Smooth Operator (2/4) By Edward C. Lynskey

(1/4), (2/4), (3/4), (4/4).

We grabbed some bench. I formed the impression that the guard resented us fouling his house. His black scowl sized us up again before he trudged through an archway. "That cupcake," said Andy, "is a barrel-full of chuckles." "Zip it up, Andy." I listened to a power mower roar outside. It coughed out. Raw cursing. Sputters with each yanked cord. Restarted, the mower resumed. Out the tail of my eye, I saw Andy tugging at his hip pocket. Wrapping papers and a sandwich baggie. Contents - dried and crumbled greenish clippings.

"You brought in weed?" I said. Andy shrugged a shoulder. "Chill out, dude, huh?" "What if we're frisked? What if that ape dicks us using that baton?" "Cheap thrills city." Now Andy grinned at me. "Shut the hell up."

After a while, Kenny materialized in the doorway. The orange jumpsuit much too large swallowed his arms and legs. Still, he shuffled projecting that macho, don't-mess-with-me attitude. I slipped him some skin. Andy piked him in the shoulder. Josh hugged him, but only for a moment. "How's it hanging?" said Kenny. "My main most men are in the house." I said, "You look like two holes pissed in a snow bank." "Bro', don't dish me grief. Come on. Shaded picnic tables await us."

As we exited a door, I took one last look at the door we'd entered. Yardbirds marched by us lounging at a picnic table. I bet it was pumpkin pie easy to sing like a yardbird in this cage. It wasn't my song. Getting into the van and booking home were my top priority. At the same time, Andy's utter stupidity seriously jeopardized that. Digging into his jeans, Andy said, "Here's a little something for the head." I tensed. "Don't go flashing that shit inside here."

Too late. Andy's fist unwrapped; Kenny flew into a psychosis. Eyes broadened. Agitated fidgeting. Fingers raked through his greasy, lank hair. "Man-o-man. Handy Andy sure is handy," Kenny said. "Roll me a jay. Sweet Mary, yes, and make it snappy, pul-eeze" "That guard is at the window," Josh said. His voice was high-pitched. "You do and I'll break your fingers," I told Andy. "I-I-I aim on leaving this hellhole." Gut-grabbing fear left me stuttering.

Andy stared over at me before licking the doobie. "It's just a smidgen of grass. Why are you up for ruining Kenny's fun?" "Let's fire it up." Kenny was panting. "That guard is still gawking," Josh said. He was the lookout. I was the knot of nerves. Josh and I swerved into the guard's sightline real casual like. I heard a Zippo flick, Kenny chug down a lung full of potent ganja, and his eyeballs crackle.

Waiting to exhale, Kenny grooved on the glorious explosion in his chest. Once he did, his words were an explosive whisper. "Whoa! Columbian Gold?" "Huh-huh. Guaranteed to blow off your balls." "Yep. There they go rolling down the sidewalk." Josh reported in. "The guard has disappeared." Andy prodded me. "You wanna toke before me?" "Nope. I like my gonads intact, thank you."

Continued... Next Page (3/4)

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