Blowing Smoke

I used to be a deadbeat boyfriend who thought pretty highly of himself. While my girlfriend worked two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, I would stay home and smoke pot till she came home. And when she did come home, she had the wonderful job of cooking and cleaning up after me, while I sat on the couch playing video games and getting stoned off my ass. I also cheated on her multiple times, but she always took me back, thinking she could change me into the man she wanted me to be. I was attracted to her because she was easy to manipulate, plus she worked hard so I could sit on my ass all day and do diddlysquat. It was a good setup for me, at the time at least. Then I was scared straight. So, let me tell you how I went from a deadbeat boyfriend to the hardworking office man that I am today.

It all started after Caroline and I had one of our many fights. She argued that I should get a job, an argument that we frequently had. I told her I couldn’t because I had a bad back, that I couldn’t work because of it. That’s how I got my medical marijuana. After I was laid out in a hit- and-run, I’ve been using the hurt back excuse for everything. “My back hurts, can you get (fill in the blank) for me?” My back had healed a few months after my accident, but I milked it for a good two years. But that day, she wasn’t having it. Our argument led to me taking my bowl filled with the good stuff outside to my truck.

Now, when I say my truck, I actually mean my girlfriend’s truck. She got the truck after her brother passed away in an accident. He was a part of a hit-and-run. Someone ran him over while he was walking to the store one night. I never met the guy, but from what I’ve heard he sounded like a cool dude. I was only in the relationship with Caroline for a couple of months then, so I hadn’t met any of her family members at the time.

The truck was his baby, his most prized possession. She was determined to fix it up, which she did. I thought it was a waste of time and money, but it was important to her. So she fixed it up, and now it’s my to go-to place when I wanted to smoke, but the “wife” wouldn’t let me.

So, there I am, hopping into the truck and slamming the door next to me. I took a deep breath in and let a big breath out. I went into my pocket, grabbed my bowl, and placed it to my lips. I took my lighter, flicked it, and placed it over my bowl, burning the “Devil’s Lettuce” inside. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with smoke, and released it, blowing smoke out of my mouth. I closed my eyes and sank into my seat.

After a few more tokes, I found myself in complete nirvana. My eyes were red and there was a huge smile on my face. The car was filled in smoke and everything was going right. Then he appeared in the passenger seat.

“Can I get in on this?” a man said, making me jump back a bit.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“The name’s Hunter!” the man said.

I felt like I’ve heard that name somewhere before.

“Bro, do I… know you?”

He leaned over and took my bowl and lighter from me. I was too high to retaliate and snatch it back. He took a deep toke and blew smoke into my face.

“No, I don’t think we’ve ever met. But I know you,” he said in a choked-up voice.

He took another toke, then handed the bowl and lighter back to me.

I took a good look at him. Even though he was sitting down, his pants sagged a bit, revealing white boxers, a fashion statement I thought died in the 2000s. His white wifebeater was torn in places, and his arms were covered in tattoos. One tattoo said Death to all Suckers, with a reaper and scythe behind the lettering.

“That’s some good shit,” he said as he scratched at a little patch of hair under his lower lip. “Hey, I got a question for ya.”

“Yeah, I got some for you too, like why are you in my car?”

“What do you think happens when we die?” he asked.

“Uh, I don’t know.”

He said, “I know.” Pausing for a second, he then continued.

“Once you die, your soul is examined, then torn into a thousand pieces. You’re judged on every act you ever did in your life. After that, you fall for what seems like an eternity; your body slowly morphing back into one, then you hit the bottom hard. You don’t get much time to understand what is happening. Then the real torture begins! You’re impaled on a giant spike and burned with pokers from a sharp object for what also feels like an eternity. Once you go through this, you’re allowed to come back to earth. You become attached to a certain object that you cared for dearly.”

He stopped again, taking a deep breath.

“Man, what the fuck are you on?” I said, scooting close to the door, not wanting to be too close to the man next to me. The man’s flesh began peeling from his face. He slowly began to decay, flesh dangling off his face and a tire track starting to form across his wife beater. One eye popped out as he looked at me.

“You know what object, I’ve been connected to, Bryce?” he said, his voice becoming more deep and staticky.

“I’ve been connected to the greatest thing I’ve ever owned.”

He scooted over the center panel and leaned towards me.

“That object is this here truck!”

I tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You’ve planted your ass in my seats and forced my sister to take the bus, all because you needed to drive to your dealer to buy some weed! You’ve been the biggest prick to my little sister and it ends here! I want you to clean up your act, or I’m haunting your ass. You hear me?”

I looked at him with tears in my eyes.

“I said, DO YOU HEAR ME, BRYCE!?”

I nodded feebly.

“Good. Now go get a job, you lazy piece of shit!”

The door opened, and I stumbled out of the truck and sprinted back inside, demonic laughter behind me as I ran to my girlfriend and tried to explain that her brother is back from the grave and haunting me. She slapped me across the face, went to our room and slammed the door shut.

After that day, I became a better person. I got a boring office job and regularly helped around the house. I even laid off the weed for a while. I don’t think highly of myself anymore, because when I do, he’s there to knock me down a notch. If I slip up, he comes back, his rotting body makes me shiver every time, and he shows me what happens when we die. I get a taste of it, and I can’t handle it.