So, it was party time. We casually walked in and I got jumped by Tad, Roy's quasi brother-in-law (as he's been dating Roy's sister forever). He hugged me and sang praise my way. I silently questioned the sincerity of his drunken belligerence. I was greeted by a few distant friends with hello's ranging from hugs to nods and the bull shit in between. Roy's woman Nancy greeted me better than expected. I've always gotten the feeling that she didn't like me very much, but I've always questioned my intuition on account of her friendliness.

People were relaxed and having fun. Terrible hip-hop blasted from the radio, but the people around were musical philistines so they didn't know any better. We all stood in a garage with a beer pong table set up, and I played a couple of games with my other fairly close friend, Larry.

Larry's a tall, skinny, blond fellow with scattered and see-through facial hair. He's very flaky as a friend. We were in a band together with the other two member's M.I.A. for quite some time. He dates a redhead that at times can be considered really hot, or really ugly, depending on your mood. She, Alice, once had a thing for me and Larry knew that. No room nor need for jealousy, though. "I don't want her/you can have her/she's too brat for me".

Somewhere between the 8th and 9th beer, everyone headed into the house where Roy turns on his DJ mode. He has a good selection of music in my opinion, considering our similar tastes in music. We're both quite partial to oldies music and older country (back before it became pop music). I told him to put on "Candy Man" by Sammy Davis, Jr. but he couldn't find it. What else is new... I suddenly remembered backroading in the winter listening to 92.1 before it switched formats for the 5th time. We would listen to the Righteous Brothers and the Supremes. We would listen to songs like "Sugar Shack" and "One Eyed, One Horned Flying Purple People Eater". And these were good times. Driving drunk down Dexter Trail not giving a damn about driving 19 mph with two cars stuck behind us. We would stop and piss because beer ran threw us like it was a Kenyan. These were the good times. These times are what made us friends.

I forgot to mention Caitlin. This is an odd girl. I've never really talked to her all that much, but she's always appears excited in the rare times we see each other. She's cute, so I go along with it. The last time I saw her was at her friend's cabin on Long Lake which was a great night. I don't even remember how Caitlin and I became friends. Some forlorn message over the internet I think, even though we went to the same high school. I still don't know why she didn't just start saying "Hi" in the halls.

During the course of the evening's events, (which were your standard bullshit party with talking, patronizing, and sycophantic drivel) I found a young man laying down asleep aside a toilet which smelled of recent vomit. I woke the boy up. It was Rick, a former classmate of mine. I would always pick on him and treat him bad. I apologized for this on a few occasions after I departed from high school because I really did feel guilty about it. He awoke, said "what the fuck..." and crawled over to the shower and started running his head under the water. I warned him not to splash about and to be respectful of Evan's home. He mumbled incoherently.

After finding Rick, I informed his closer friends of his situation and they proceeded to fuck with him, probably deservedly so. I don't care either way. Wondering what happened to my group of closer-than-the-rest friends, I remembered Roy's sister, Gabby saying something about going to a platonic male friend of her's place with her group of female friends. I called Roy to see where he was at. He didn't answer. I looked all around Evan's homestead for any sign of my friends to no avail. I had been ditched.

This made me angry.

In no mood for sobriety, I stole a beer out of a random case sitting on Evan's porch and lit a cigarette. Smoking is something I always loathed growing up, but in my post-pubescent haze of idiocy, I started. I've never been a heavy smoker, topping out at around 4 a day, but I still don't think it's a particularly good thing. I finished the beer before the cigarette and tossed it carelessly into the yard. I walked out to my car still smoking and took off. But not before I headed back and took another beer or three out of that abandoned case and tossed my smoke into the flower bed. Fuck those ass holes inside. They don't deserve to get drunk.

I took off and called Gabby. She claimed to still be at her male friend's house, but I couldn't go there. It was never explained why. Trying to call Roy and Larry failed multiple times. Cutting my losses, I decided to go home. I headed down the road, barreling toward nothingness and the monotony of another day. On a whim, I decided that it would have been better to stay the night at Evan's so as not to get arrested tonight.

Smoke. I smelled smoke. My cigarette. The flower bed. The kitchen. The house. The bodies huddled on the lawn in raw cotton and bewildered mind sets. It was beautiful and complete. Flames reaching the top of the clouds. Smoke chugging like Amtrak into God's face. It was like a big "Fuck You!" and it was all because of me. I started hollering to everyone, asking if they were alright. I don't want to be a murderer, you know. Just an emotional custodian. Was it an accident? Technically. Perhaps subconsciously, I wanted a cleansed palate and no lemon on earth would work.

Such beauty and freedom is enough to make the toughest of bastards weep.

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