The rain had been falling for days. It drummed against the skylight over the bed. Joseph rolled over to see he was alone. He pulled back the comforter and sat up. The heat was turned off and the room cold. He looked around at a mess of dirty clothes. He reached down and picked up a pair of wool socks. They were crumpled and rank, but he pulled them on anyway, and stumbled across the room. Stepping out onto the second floor balcony, which overlooked the main room, the craftsmanship of the house impressed him yet again. The living room and kitchen were one large room, with high wood panel ceilings. The back of the house faced west and was entirely plate glass. It sat a top an outcropping of rocks directly on the Salish Sea, looking out over distant islands.
Below Emily stood by the window staring across the water. She was beautiful in the morning light, her figure silhouetted against the storm. Steam rose from her cup as she took a long drag from her spliff.
Joseph walked downstairs and over to where she stood. He put his arm around her, but she immediately moved away from his touch. She handed him the spliff, and laid down on a pile of blankets positioned in front of the wood stove. Sometime during the night the flames had gone out.
The spliff was harsh and scorched Joseph's throat. He coughed violently as he walked to the kitchen, where he dropped it in the sink and opened the refrigerator.
"Do you want an egg?" He called across the room. "There's only two left."
Emily didn't answer. He reached into the sink and pulled out a frying pan from under a pile of dirty dishes. The pile came down with a loud crash, paying the mess no mind, Joseph lit the range, cracked the eggs into the pan, and tossed the shells on the counter. Sloppily he flipped the eggs, breaking the yolks. Once the eggs were somewhat cooked, he scooped the mess onto a plate and walked them over to Emily.
She was expressionlessly smoking another spliff. Joseph offered her the eggs, but she continued to smoke and stare into the empty stove. Joseph sat down on the couch and gazed into the back of he Emily’s head.
"I want to leave." She said without looking at him.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean we've been here for a week and a half and I can't take it anymore."
"But, this house is amazing."
"It feels like they're gonna walk through the door any minute."
Joseph had no response; he had been feeling the same way. They were squatting the house and lately he found himself looking over his shoulder, thinking that at any moment the owners would return and they'd be forced to run. After initially breaking in, life had been exhilarating. It felt as if they had found paradise, broken free from society and were living in a dream. They spent nights loving in front of the wood stove. Mornings were filled with much of the same. But as the days went on, anxiety grew and now loomed heavily over the house like the clouds over the Sea.
Besides one trip into town and occasional walks around the beach, they hadn't left the house. Their communication had grown distant and cold. Emily hardly talked, Joseph would sometimes try to force mundane conversations, but most of the time he was also quiet, usually too stoned to do much of anything besides read a few lines and fall asleep, or put on the house’s one Miles Davis album. Although it had only been 10 days since the ferry brought them out to the island, it felt as if they had been living in the house for months.
Prior to the island, Joseph had been crashing with some people he knew in a college town. They lived in an old church, which now functioned as a music venue. People constantly came and went, sleeping on the floor, and partying at all hours of the night. The place was trashed, piles of garbage filled the kitchen; the whole thing reeked of stale beer and cigarettes. Down in the basement, where Joseph was set up, there was serious water damage, but compared to other situations he had been in, life at the church was pretty alright. He was making money by shoplifting cases of beer from different grocery stores around town and selling them to college kids. This is how he met Emily. One night at a show, Joseph was getting drunk and bullshitting with some touring band, when a group of kids he recognized walked in. These were some of his number one buyers. They were all maybe 19 or 20, and by the looks of it, from well to do families. Joseph would shamelessly mark up the prices to these kids. Often getting $20 for a six-pack. On this day, he told the kids he was feeling generous and would give them a 12 pack of PBR for only $30.
"Fuck that!" Came a female voice from the back of the group. "They sell that for $10 at the gas station."
"Well this isn't the gas station and if you don't want it then you don't have to fucking buy it." Replied Joseph, irritated that someone in the group had questioned his hustle.
"No its cool man." a kid with short gelled hair and an expensive rain jacket quickly replied. "We'll totally take it," He held out $30.
Joseph took the money and handed him the case. As the group dissipated into the crowd, Joseph's eyes met the girl's who had called him out on the price. She was small with dark hair and hazel eyes. He was immediately attracted to her. Her eyes shined back into his, even as she disapprovingly shook her head. He watched her walk away before returning to a conversation about potential apocalyptic scenarios.
Later on in the night, when the church had filled up with an unwashed crowd, and a sloppy punk band was playing with their treble way too high, Joseph slipped outside into the cold January night. Grey slush clung to the curbs, and a bitter wind was blowing. He pulled the hood of his old winter coat tightly over his head and rubbed his untrimmed beard for warmth. Looking around for someone to bum a cigarette off, he noticed the girl from earlier wearing a heavy black jacket and smoking by herself.
He walked over to her, "Got another one of those?" She didn't answer, but handed him her spliff. He continued, "I'm living in the basement if you wanna come in and hang out down there. It's not so cold or crowded."
She gave him a half-smile and shrugged, then followed him around to the backdoor leading to the basement. The steep narrow stairs led down into a dark room with concrete floors and a low ceiling. Sound bled down from the wooden beams above. Heavy stomping and footsteps came from the crowd and a distorted mess from the band. Stacks of boxes and piles of miscellaneous items cluttered the walls, only a narrow path led to the to the back of the space where a faint light shown. Despite living in squalor, Joseph was not without a bit of style. He had cleared a corner and laid down an old piece of carpet. He had then hung some sheets, which were softly lit by a broken lamp he'd found amongst the mess of storage. He'd laid down his camping pad along with every blanket he could get his hands on. It was actually quite cozy, although not much warmer than outside. Stacks of his writings lay strewn about, he pushed the papers aside, so they would have a place to sit inside the makeshift tent. They climbed in and sat close together, the ruckus from upstairs faded into a soft white noise as she put her arm around him. They sat face to face for a minute before he kissed her. They shed their heavy coats and wet socks, then slid under a down sleeping bag.
In the morning, Joseph woke up to find her sitting up reading through the papers on which he had been scribbling poetry and lyrics. She looked at him and smiled, "This stuff is terrible."
He laughed and pulled it away from her, "You have to hear me read it out loud to get it."
With a dramatic voice he began:
"A new era of intimate details,
Which I would rather forget,
Opens to a shower of roses,
So sweet fragrant and frustrated,
An end to your sad longings,
Which while they remain,
Nothing can be done or saved,
No immediate comfort in the ideal,
Held up to the light,
With no action in another."
"You're ridiculous." She smirked, "Do you hide down here and write this shit all day?"
And with that their relationship began. They spent the rest of January together. Joseph would spend every night at her place. She lived on the top floor of an old brick apartment building. From her window was a view of the bay and San Juan Islands. Every night they would stay up late telling stories about where they came from.
Emily was an only child from a privileged family. She grew up somewhere out east that Joseph had never heard of. She was taking Gender Studies at the college, but rarely went to class. Her parents paid her tuition and living expenses. The apartment resembled an Ikea showroom. There were always organic groceries in the refrigerator and she was constantly making fine teas and coffee. Growing up, her mother was an alcoholic and her father usually away on business. She had done well in school and wanting to get away from her family, decided to attend college in the quaint little town on the Puget Sound.
Joseph was also from a middle-class family. He grew up in a small suburb outside Seattle and since leaving home at 18 had been trying to erase the fact that he spent his youth in comfort and luxury. After high school, he set out for a romanticized life of wandering up and down the West Coast. Rarely did he talk to his family, except when things became especially dire, he would call and ask for money.
One afternoon in early February, while smoking in bed Joseph recalled an interaction from the previous summer. During a bike trip around the San Juan Islands, he had met a couple in a town on Orcas Island. They invited him back to their families vacation home. It was on a huge lot, covered in madrona trees, with a private beach and a beautifully constructed home. Over dinner, they told him about how the family rarely visited the house during the winter months. Joseph who had become restless in Bellingham, began to form an idea. He jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen where Emily was making coffee in a long t-shirt. Excitedly, he explained his plan to her; they would take a ferry out to Orcas Island, break into a vacant mansion, and live like royalty for the rest of the winter. Although this sounded rather insane to Emily, she had completely stopped going to class and needed something to take her mind off the impending conversation she would be having with her mother.
So they made a list of what they would need. The first item, was enough weed to last several months. Joseph immediately got to work this. He threw on a jacket, grabbed his backpack and ran downstairs. Emerging onto the street, he was pleasantly surprised to be met by a few weak rays of sunshine. He crossed the street and walked into the adjacent park. Joseph felt the world was his for the taking and whistled a happy melody. As he reached the other side of the park his target came into view. It was a big old house, painted white, with beer cans littering the yard. He knew the kids who lived in the house; he knew they never missed an opportunity to talk about how in 1963 an issue of Playboy had named it one of the Top 10 Party Houses in the Country; he also knew they were especially stoked to have recently installed a stripper pole in what would have been the dining room; but most importantly, he knew a jar sat on the coffee table containing at least a few ounces of weed.
Creeping around back, Joseph hoped nobody was home. He opened the backdoor, and walked into a laundry room overflowing with empty cans. The house seemed to be deserted. So he quickly went to the living room and found the jar. He threw it into his backpack and then pocketed some cash sitting beside it on the table. Running to the back door, he locked the handle and stepped outside as calmly as he could. His heart raced as he began walking down the alley.
"What's up dude?" Came a familiar voice from behind him. Joseph broke into a cold sweat. He turned to see one of the kids who lived in the house walking up behind him.
"Hey man!" Joseph called back, he couldn't remember the kid's name, he thought maybe it was Kevin. Unsure if the kid had been seen leaving the house or not, he continued. "I just came by to see if I could get a 20 sack off you."
"Yeah bro, you should have just gone in I'm pretty sure Shawn is home."
"I would have, but the door is locked."
"Really? That's weird."
"I could just come back later, I've got some things I've go to take care of real quick anyway."
"Nah dude, it's all good, I got you."
The kid unlocked the back door and walked into the house. Joseph nervously followed him in. He pulled out one of the $20 bills he had just stolen and said, "Here you go man" handing it to the kid.
The kid took it and replied, "Thanks bro," then continued on into the living room, where he threw down his bag and jumped onto the couch. Joseph stood by the exit ready to bolt, waiting for the kid to figure out the jar was gone.
The kid stood up and walked to the stairs, "Just a second Shawn must've grabbed the weed." Joseph only half heard these words as his mind raced between whether he should make a break for it, or stick to his story. Unable to make up his mind, he stood frozen by the laundry room door. The Kid came running back downstairs in a panic, "Dude, I think we were robbed. Did you see anyone when you walked up?."
A wave of relief ran through Joseph's body, the kid didn't suspect him. "Are you fucking serious dude?"
"Yeah, I had like 3 ounces of weed on the table and like 200 bucks."
"Shit, I didn't see anyone." Then an idea came to Joseph, "Actually, you know what? You know that sketchy kid Cory, who was telling us about how he'd been stealing people's x boxes. I think I might have seen him at the end of the alley when I walked up."
"Dude, I knew it! That's exactly who I thought it was!"
"Man, I'm really sorry, that's so shitty. But I really gotta run, I gotta meet my girl, I'll hit you up later though."
"Alright man, I'm about to go beat this fuck's ass"
Joseph gave him a fist bump and then rushed out of the house elated. Suddenly he stopped and remembered something. Turning and going back into the house he saw the kid sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Joseph looked at him and for a second almost felt sorry, then said, “Um, hey man, do you think I could get that $20 back?”
Upon returning home, he shared the good news with Emily. They decided to leave first thing the next morning and began packing their bags.
No comments:
Post a Comment