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If Margaret Chanderson didn’t have great tits for a 43-year old woman, Moses would have had nothing to do with her. But she did have great tits for a 43-year old woman. Hell, she had great tits for an 18 year old girl. Moses met her through his aunt Beebee. Beebee worked at the blood bank, and Margaret was the PR Director. They both liked the stage, and since there was nothing remotely akin to Broadway in Pardina, they would make trips to the cities to see shows. Beebee had smoked weed for as long as Moses had been alive. It was her that got him high the first time, on his 14th birthday. Her and her boyfriend Andre. Andre went to the state pen in ’98. Trafficking on one count, piloting a vehicle with intent to do harm on another. In lock-up he stabbed a man in the testicles. He earned an extra 6 years. Moses heard that the guy had tried to fuck ‘dre.
Moses got weed for his aunt, and after Margaret told her she smoked, Moses got weed for her, too. Usually he just gave it to Beebee and she would take it to Margaret, but sometimes he had to make the delivery himself. He liked those times. She always had food. Always had beer. Always looked hard not to fuck, all wrapped up in flimsy summer dresses with drop-top issues. Moses had seen her perfect quarter-sized nipples so many times he felt as if they were childhood memories. Just past pink, but not brown. Rigid. Not stubs, but not creepy pinkies, either. Just so in the way they capped the breast. It made him think of Rome. And her ass. Round. Firm but meaty. The kind of ass that has had to pump out a couple kids and work its way back to budunkdadunk. The kind of ass that makes the hole seem less filthy. Moses had thought a few times about a river of pussy juice cascading down across and around that puckered brown hole. Getting it nice and wet and nice and slick so that his cock could slide in nice and easy. Margaret made a man think like that. About ass fucking a hot 43-year old mother of two. Her daughter was a few years younger than Moses. Had went to a different school in a different city in a different state, and Moses had only seen her in pictures, but he had sworn that if ever got to meet her, he’d stick his dick in her. She looked like Cameron Diaz, only pretty. She was at school in Texas. SMU. The land of rape and honey. Her name was Trinity. Named after the bar that her parents met in. She was conceived that very night. In that very bar.
Margaret said that she might be home for Christmas. Moses was being a good boy.
Her son had committed suicide when he was 12.
He was born with Down's Syndrome.
Margaret had told Moses that hanging himself was
the only smart thing a boy like Salvador could have done. That we are children in God's image, so he must be prone to mistakes, too. Salvador had been one of God's mistakes. The only part of him that worked right was his courage, and that part was extraordinary.
He usually didn’t fuck with anything other than weed, but this dude Russell had said that these pills he got were fucking sweet. He had a box with different bottles in it, V’s and P’s and K’s and D’s. There were two bottles that weren’t the typical orange-brown-transparent-shit-tan color. They were sparkled.
“Got ‘em from some dude up at the Flying J’s” Russ said.
“How much?” Moses asked.
“$140 a bottle. There’s 35 in each. I’m selling them five a pop.” Russ said.
“Nice. How much you cut me if I take 20?” Moses asked.
“I’ll take 85 man, leave you a few to play with.” Russ said.
“You fucked with them yet?" Moses asked.
“You know I don’t fuck with pills, dog.” Russ said.
“You know what they do?” Moses asked.
“Nope. I sold some though, and ain’t no one called me bitchin’, so they must not be bunk.” Russ said.
“I hear ya, I hear ya.” Moses said.
“You want 20 of one or you wanna break it between the 2?” Russ asked.
“Give me 10 of each.” Moses said.
“You gonna take any tonight?” Russ asked.
“Nah, dog. I got a game at 8 tomorrow. I gotta be there at 7. After I go to girl’s house to drop this shit off, I’m gonna go home and play some game for a while and crash. I might fuck around with it tomorrow.” Moses said.
“Well, let me know. I’m kinda curious as to what it is these things do.” Russ said.
Moses’ cell phone vibrated, and he answered.
“Right on dog. Right on dog. I hear ya. Yeah. I feel ya dog. Cool. Cool. Yep. Cool bro, I’ll talk to you in about 10 minutes. Peace.”
He hung up. “That was my boy. I gotta get this to him. I’ll holla atcha tomorrow.” Moses grabbed Russ’s hand, squeezed and shook, let go, and went out the door to his car. It was getting cold. He had to stop by Hatchet’s and drop off an ounce, then head out west to Margaret’s house to drop off her ounce. He knew Hatchet would buy pills. He’d bet on Margaret, too. He pulled into Hatchet’s driveway, killed the engine, locked the doors, knocked, sat on the couch, passed the joint back.
“How much are they?” Hatchet asked.
“6 a piece.” Moses said.
“They any good?” Hatchet asked.
“They’re the fuckin’ bomb, dog.” Moses said.
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Birth sign: Taurus
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