Munmun(54)

A rottysmell cigstick got passed around our walking group. Angel handed it to me.

“Nothanks, don’t burn cigs,” I said.

“What about weeds, which is what this is, wow can you not smell that,” she said.

I looked at Grace, Grace shrugged.

“Nerds, how about for once you be chill,” suggested Angel, so Grace and me took puffs and strolled giggly and hothearted into middlepoor heaven.

? ? ?

The beebeecue took over half a ballfield, many families in attendance, blankets and nets, balls and grills, portable soundsystem. Angel Family you can recognize because they’re the shortest and most cheerfull. Birthdayboy Angus was a chubby happy little guy turning thirteen and chomping meats.

Tray and Brand and me got sucked into a ballgame. I was prepared for a Lifty type deathmatch of Kill Or Die Furiously, surprise surprise though, there’s another way to play sports. No one racing at topspeed, no one attacking the knees, no stoppages for uncontrollable brawling. No hard jukes to break ankles, just little hipfakes, jogging, dancing. No ferocious bullet passes, just light little rainbows to each other, clever geeometries, the game was basically Who Can Score The Slowest And Most Beautifull, infact no one was even counting goals.

The former faceboy Fillup was playing too, at one point flashed me his bullfists and a wink, I frownnodded sternly, Fillup I continue to have your back, let’s remain chill though.

Then came time to munch the glorious beans and meats, crunchy leaves and plants, herbs and garlics, stewy sauces and amazing chewy breads, I ate ravenously and then lay down on the dirt and moaned like a cow.

“Dave, if you keep making these sexsounds I don’t think we can be friends,” Tray clowned me.

Someone turned up the music, laughs, cheers, everybody please direct your attention this way, it is time for Angus to perform his soyouthinkyoucandance.

He had a face of intense concentration, must have been practicing for days. Look at him hustling and splitting, spinning on his tum, now on his head, sweating furiously, holycrap did he just pull four roses out of his boxerbriefs, kid who could those even be for.

I laughed, Grace laughed, I watched her laugh.

Prettysoon everyone was dancing so I asked her to dance.

The daylight faded, the streetlights blinked on, after a while I knew it was after seven, didn’t care though, didn’t even check the phone. Just held Grace’s waist, looked down into those eyes or else rested my chin in that hair, mirrored those hips, tried not to step on anyone or knee anyone in the face, some poorer relatives are quarterscale or fifth.

Angel whisked us away to sit in a circle with some cousins, sip again from the weedstick, say a little cloud into the air, let every close thing get closer and every far thing get farther.

Thoughts got louder, darkness got darker. Words became meaningless sounds unless you listened at them harder, then they split into many meanings, dozens, hundreds.

Overall it was nice and great. Grace was leaning into me from the side, my arm was around her, her skin was trembly through the soft teeshirt, her crinkly frizz was tickling my neck.

The weedstick came back around, another puff, we leaned even deeper into each other, smashedtogether like dead trees.

She whispered into my ear, a long pearly string of sounds, every ell was a glimmer shining off every bee.

“What what what, say that again,” I giggled.

“I usually like barely ever really basically never burn weeds,” she said.

“Yeah me neither,” I told her.

She turned her face to me, drank up my eyes with hers.

“I want to kiss you but I think I’m way too drugged,” she whispered.

“Oh dang,” I responded stupidly, Warner you need to brainstorm better responses for talking to girls, what exactly is Grace supposed to do with an ohdang.

She swayed a little bit, eyefocus going in and out.

“The last puff was a mistake I think,” she said.

“Do you need help, wait, uhoh, can I help you somehow,” I asked.

“Nonono, I’m okay,” she said, then turned and poured vom into the sand, kids started shrieking, I tried to keep her hair out of it, I was sort of shrieking too.

Prettysoon Grace and I were in the back of a halfcar, upfront the driver was a kind random uncle of Angel named Gill.

“I’m such a mess, ohmygod I’m so embarrassed,” Grace moaned.

“Look, I’m just happy I get to take care of you, continue getting little bits of vom out of the hair,” I told her.

“Ohgod I feel so dizzy and sick,” she cried.

No kidding, probably it was the car justasmuch as the weeds. Driving in a halfcar is hectic, you’re below half of everyone, dodging like a pinball in the shifty canyons between trucks and bikes, lights are blocked from view. On top of that the engineering of a halfcar is never going to be the best engineering in the Yewess, pretty janky and clanky.

“Eyes closed, head between knees, almost there,” I told her, rubbed her back, kind of wished she was sick everynight, I could nurse her just like this.

We pulled up in front of the family stand, dull red awning loudly telling you, EAT THE BEST COWSOY.

I started to open the door, Angel Uncle piped up and said, “Warner, how about you stay in the car, I’ll walk her to the door.”

“No no, I can do it,” I said.

“Not sure if you’re picking the right time to meet the parents,” he stagewhispered.