The Cobras-Chapter 8

As he walked down the dusty road towards his house, Noah reflected on his new life. He was still getting used to the lack of freedom since he moved to south county. He was happy living with his Aunt and Uncle. It was great having a new school, friends, and the opportunity to start over. He had been in some trouble up north when he lived with his Dad and stepmom. Everyone had agreed that the country air would do him good. His new friends were definitely a step up from his old friends. Not in his estimation of course, but according to the "system."  His lack of freedom didn't stem from any unresonable restrictions placed on him by his folks but simply from the fact that he was isolated. It was four miles to the nearest store and another two miles into "town". The town of Bear Ranch was only a stoplight on the road south. It consisted of a small grocery store, a tire shop, one gas station and a western clothing store. Outside of the town center it was mostly farms, ranches and a lot of country folks who had simple houses on a lot of land.
 Noah had started smoking and partying back in junior high school as a way to "belong" in his new school. Moving into the suburbs of San Francisco had been a challenge. He enjoyed sports but found the "jock" social crowd to be difficult to break into. He had been a decent athlete for most of his childhood playing soccer on several teams before junior high. But he soon found that he was far too sensitive for the bullying and hierarchial structure of their social groups. He instinctively chose the "wrong crowd"when he moved in with his Dad and participated in some petty crimes to make his mark. After two years he finally felt like he belonged. He had made a few good friends and had gotten away with a lot of delinquent behavior before he finally got caught shoplifting cigarettes. His run had been longer than most. He had been lucky and he knew it. But his luck finally ran out and that's when it seemed obvious to everyone concerned that he should move back in with his Aunt and Uncle with whom he had lived with back in elementary school when his parents were going through their divorce.
He had been thrilled at the prospect of going to live with his Aunt and Uncle again because he had enjoyed it before. They were a childless couple in their thirties. It was hard being without his little brother, and he did miss his Mom and Dad, but his surrogate parents had made him feel loved from the first day he arrived. As their "only child" he received the kind of attention from both of them that he hadn't had since his early childhood. He felt like the "prince" in their royal kingdom. Life had lived up to his expectations so far and once he made friends with some people who could drive, like Spanky and Rosco, it got a lot better. It was a new thing having to be dependent on his friends to take him places but he didn't mind. He always made sure that he had some weed to share with them so he was always welcome. Back when he had lived up north there was a bus stop about a block away and it would take him just about anywhere he wanted to go for a quarter. That independence was gone but he was a likeable kid and most people didn't mind having him around.
Getting kicked off the school bus was humiliating but it was far better than getting into a fight with the local rednecks. He had learned to size up situations instinctively and to weigh the costs of choosing one path or the other. The consequences for this minor challenge to authority were negligible. The school administration wasn't likely to get involved. The bus driver had suspended him for two weeks he guessed and since he rode to school with Rosco or Spanky it didn't really matter. But still he felt a little bad about the way he had treated the driver. Even though she was kind of a bitch he had never really had a problem with her. Maybe he would be nice and apologize to her when he came back. "Nah," he thought to himself. It would be easier just to not ride the bus for awhile and let the heat die down. He was an expert at avoiding the consequences of his actions. It was a skill developed during his tumultuous childhood.
As he turned to go down the long driveway to his house he heard the whine of a familiar car. He turned to look and sure enough it was Spanky.  The tires chirped briefly as Spanky hit the brakes and skidded across the loose gravel on the road.
"DUDE," he shouted out the open passenger window. "Get in dude. Let's go to my house and get stoned and munch out!"
"Ok, but I need to be back by four-thirty to feed the critters," Gator said. This was a new thing for him too-having responsibility and he kind of liked it. He didn't have a lot of it but what he had was important. The small herd of sheep, a few hogs, and a couple of steers were his responsibility every day, morning and night. His folks gave him a generous allowance so he was happy to have a "job" to do that helped out. Even though it was a seven-day-per-week chore it only took about a half-hour to complete. He had to feed them, check the water levels and make sure the automatic fillers were not stuck or broken. He had only been in south county for about a week when he heard the stories about the family that went on vacation and didn't have anyone reliable to take care of their animals. They hired one of the local kids to do it and the child got in trouble, got grounded and the livestock all died. A couple of the horses had kicked down a gate and escaped to a neighboring farm where they were cared for until the horrified owners returned. Gator had heard the local legend more than once and it was enough to scare him into being extremely conscientious about feeding and watering "his" animals.
\"Let's go do it now," Gator said as he climbed into the car.
"Okay, cool. You are liable to forget later and end up grounded. Then who's gonna go with me to the drive-in tonight. I'll be stuck with Frogurt and it will be like a date, " Spanky laughed.
"Actually, I think Rosco is driving tonight if you want to ride with him," Gator answered.
"I knew it. That dick told me he wasn't going tonight." Spanky said half-pissed off and half-reveling in the fact that he knew he would weasel his way into riding with him anyway. Spanky hated being left out. In his mind he was the center of the universe. Besides, how could anyone possibly have fun without him?"
Spanky drive his car back to the barn in the back of the house so Gator would have an easier and more importantly, faster time finishing his chores. The first part of the driveway was paved but the last fifty yards or so out to the barn was a dirt and gravel road that was partially under water from the recent rain.
As they reached the end of the pavement Gator said," Dude stop here and I'll get out. I don't want you to get stuck."
Spanky shook his head and plowed ahead through the water and mud that was covering the road. "Don't worry I know how to drive," he said laughing.
"Seriously," Gator said, "The mud is deeper than it looks you should stop here and let me out."
"Shuttup don't be such a little bitch," Spanky said with a smile. "I got it."
He proceeded slowly along the muddy road between the green manicured lawns in front of the barn. He stopped the car in front of the shop door on the north side of the barn facing the house.
"Front door service," he laughed.
The barn was a simple wooden one-story building with a tin roof over wooden walls and a concrete slab. There was a dirt floor in the stalls and cement flooring under the shop and feed room. When the rain was heavy the whole place would flood bringing mud and manure from the horses into the shop and feed room floor. He always had the privilege of cleaning it up. Luckily it hadn't happened in a while.
Gator stepped out into a puddle of water. Luckily it was shallow enough that he didn't get his feet wet. One thing he hated in life was wet shoes and socks. He made his way past the shop under the overhang and opened the feed room door. None of the animals came running at the noise the door had created because it was earlier than their usual feeding time. He tossed out a few flakes of hay over the nearby fence and the cattle noticed the food and moved towards the waiting alfalfa. He threw another larger flake out to the sheep in the next corral and grabbed a five gallon bucket and filled it halfway with grain from one of the feedbags. When he shook the grain inside the bucket the sheep heard the familiar sound and came running from the far side of the pasture. There were about eight of them. There were two mothers with two lambs each, a ram and an older sheep without lambs. They all cried "baa-baa-baa" as they raced to get the sweet grain.
Spanky sat in his car smoking a cigarette and listening to the radio. He poked his head out the window as Gator walked by and said, "Dude, did I tell you I am getting my brother's stereo? He got a new one so he is selling me his old one for fifty bucks. Its gonna blow Rosco's stereo away. He'll be so pissed. I can't wait," he laughed.
"That's cool, when are you getting it?" Gator asked.
"Maybe today if he got his installed already." Spanky answered.
"He bought a Blaupunkt system for his El Camino. Its going to blow doors man. Its got a hundred-watt amp. Man its gonna rock." He said admiringly.
Gator finished feeding the sheep just as a dark brown Chesapeake Retriever mix ran up to him, jumped up on him and started licking his face. Max was a mix of "chessie" and something else. He looked a bit like a Labrador with short brown hair but had a slightly smaller head and was a bit more muscular.  Noah ignored the muddy paws and grabbed his thick neck and started scratching it. Max wagged his tail and showed his teeth in a classic "dogsmile". Out came his tounge and it licked Noah's face.
"Ok buddy your're next," he said racing over to the garage where the dog food was kept. Max always won this race to the food, but he waited patiently as Noah caught up to him. He got one scoop of dry food and a can of soft food everyday. Max definitely had it good for a dog. He'd get all of this and usually some table scraps after dinner. Although Max was about five years old, he never got fat despite all of the food he ate each day. He was very active. He would chase a tennis ball for hours if he found someone to throw it for him and he would bring it back with his tail wagging every time. He was so persistant that he would even fetch something thrown into the field next door which had mustard greens three feet high. Sometimes it would take him an hour but he always found whatever was thrown for him.
Noah checked his water, filled up his dish and set it down. Max started eating and Gator petted him gently on his head.
"See you later buddy, " he said and he was off to see how Spanky was doing getting his car out of the mud. Gator watched as the yellow and black Chevy Monza started rolling backwards down the muddy road. There was standing water and some soft spots underneath where he could get stuck if he didn't keep his momentum going. So far so good. He was backing the car straight out the way he came in without any problems so far.
Gator wondered how Spanky could see the road at all with the louvers that covered his hatchback window. They looked cool and all, but they must inhibit some of his vision, he thought. Finally, just as the car was almost to the pavement something happened. His rear-drive tire slipped off the track where he had previously been and it went "plop" into the middle of a large soft mud puddle about a foot deep. The car was now stuck in the mud.
Spanky threw the car into first gear and gunned the accelerator. Mud and water flew straight up behind the car like a geyser. Most of it landed on the clean white cement just feet away on the driveway.
"Dude stop you're making a huge mess," Gator said as he ran over to the passenger side of the vehicle. "Let me get the truck keys and I'll pull you out." Less than fifty feet away sat the workhorse of the ranch, a 1976 Ford F250 pickup truck. It had a towing package and overload springs to support the cab-over camper that sat on jacks next to it. It was easily up to the task of pulling Spanky out of the mud without any further mess being created, Gator figured.
"No Gator, I got it. Watch this," Spanky said with full confidence.  He threw the car in reverse again and popped the clutch after revving the engine to about 4000 rpm. The torque of the engine bounced the car backwards as the tire spun at high speed sending mud and water forward under the car and covering the driver's side door with a thick brown layer of mud.
"Dude stop!" Gator shouted as he ran to the passenger window and looked in at Spanky.
There he was in all of his glory. He had a lit cigarette hanging from his lips. His right eye was squinted like a caricature of Popeye as the smoke drifted up his face. His head was cocked like a bull about to enter a rodeo ring. He had one hand on the wheel and one on the gear shift in the center console. He continued to wrestle the gears and pop the clutch rocking back and forth in his seat as if his sheer determination would force the car out of the ditch. It was a fountain of mud and water that was now shooting in all directions as he forced his will on the car and the elements.
"I've almost got it," he shouted above the high pitched whine of the four cylinder engine winding out.
Once more the car lurched forward and then back again. Mud and water now covered the entire car. Gator stood back in horror as the stream of mud flew back past the driveway and into the garden box covering his aunt's prized tomato plants with a thin layer of creamy brown mud and water. Finally, to Gator's surprise, the car lurched out of the ditch and came to rest in the middle of the driveway covered with thick chunks of mud and a light brown creamy film covering all but the very back of the vehicle.
Spanky opened his door and stepped out next to the car and admired his "work."
"I'm the best fucking driver in the world, " he shouted.
Gator looked at the hole next to the mud covered dirt road and the mud disaster of the driveway and garden.
"Look at this mess dude. I could have pulled you out with the truck," Gator said. He was clearly exasperated by the whole event.
"Dude you would have screwed it up. Don't worry I'll clean it up."
Spanky came around the car and grabbed the large garden hose that was coiled up next to the garage. Gator watched as Spanky moved with surprising speed as he turned on the hose and used the spray gun attachment to spray the mud off of his car. His car was clean and dripping fresh drops of clear water in under a minute. He then sprayed the mud off of the driveway out onto the lawn and in the direction of the garden boxes. Swiftly and carefully he used the mist setting on the spray gun attachment to clean off the newly planted tomato plants. Gator stood in silence as Spanky coiled up the hose. Gator looked on incredulously. The next sound they heard was the honking of a horn. It was Noah's uncle swinging up the driveway in a large brown Jeep Wagoneer. The garage door opened automatically and he pulled inside. He got out and opened the tailgate grabbing two bags of groceries.
"Do you need a hand with those," Gator said trying desperately to sound normal as if nothing unusual was going on.
"No I got it Noah. We are having steak tonight so don't be late for dinner. His uncle was a large, fit man with broad shoulders and an easy way with people. he was kind and generous to Noah. He had always treated him like he was his own son. His dark hair and blue eyes and thick mustache evoked memories of Burt Reynolds in "Smokey and the Bandit." He was a bit taller and muscular from his work as an elevator mechanic up in San Jose. He wore his blue jeans and a dungaree work shirt proudly. His brown leather belt sported a silver cowboy buckle with a turquoise stone in the center. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it up as he set the bags down briefly on the tailgate.
"Hey Mr. P you still smoking those girl cigarettes, " Spanky laughed.
"Well the boss of the house likes them so I just go along and smoke more of em," he laughed, exhaling his first drag of the cigarette he just lit. "What have you guys been doing? Washing your car?" He was looking around at all of the water on the driveway.
"Yeah we decided your garden needed a little water too," Spanky said smiling.
"Thanks. I'll put in a good word for you with the boss," he said. "Next time just leave the hose in the garden box. No need to water the tops of the plants. Got it?" He laughed ignoring the obvious fact that something more was happening here than met the eye.
Noah nodded and said, "Ok I already fed and watered the animals. I'm heading over to Ronnie's house until dinnertime."
"Mr. P" nodded as he grabbed the bags and walked around to the back of the house.
Gator got into the car and Spanky fired up the engine. He quickly spun the car around in a three-point-turn and headed down the driveway. Gator was silent but his face said, "whew that was close." Spanky chirped the tires as they headed out onto the main road. He accelerated quickly and chirped the tires again when he shifted into second. He looked over at Gator who was looking straight ahead.
"Dude you worry too much. I had it under control the whole time, " he laughed.
"I know you are trying to give me a heart attack, " Gator laughed.
Spanky reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of bright green buds dangling them in front of Gator's face. "If I killed you who would I smoke this with? Frogurt? He'd take two hits, say he was stoned and then start talking about the latest girl he's hitting on, " he laughed.
"Dude, where'd you get that stuff?" Gator said. He could smell the sweet quality of the buds as soon as the bag was in front of his face. It was clearly some "primo" Santa Cruz sinsemillia if his nose was accurate, not a common sight or smell at WAHS.
Spanky pulled the bag back as Gator tried to grab a hold of it for a better "smell test."
"You can smell but don't touch," he laughed emphasizing the word touch in a deep Darth Vaderesque voice.
"Dude I can smell it from here, where'd you get it?"
"From my bro," he said flatly.
"Cool." Gator said.
"Yeah we'll burn some with him when we get to my house, but first a little detour for Cobras only," Spanky said as he downshifted to second gear and slid the car around the corner of his street. He slowed down slightly as he noticed his neighbor, the county sherrif's deputy, eyeballing him and his rate of speed down the small residential street. Spanky saw his brother out in the driveway working on his car. He drove slowly past his house and continued down towards the cul de sac at the end of the road about a half-mile from his house. He turned the car around at the end of the road then proceeded up to a spot where the field behind them and the trees in front of the house across the street obscured them from prying eyes. He parked the car and shut off the engine.
Gator knew what to do next. He reached into the glove compartment and grabbed the "stash box" which held one of Spanky's most prized possessions, a small brass pipe with a chamber and a small bowl on top.
Gator handed it to Spanky who grabbed it and thrust it into the clear plastic sandwich bag packing a small bud into the bowl. He then unscrewed the chamber and placed two small buds inside. The idea was that the resin that penetrated the buds would make them even more potent once they had been in there for a while.
"Alright dude," Spanky said. "Lets get small," he laughed.
"Mini-sized," Gator laughed.
"Microscopic," Spanky added.
"Atomic," Gator said roughly as he lit the bowl Spanky had handed him. He inhaled deeply and held his breath displaying proper etiquette when smoking good weed.
Spanky took the pipe, lit it, took a huge hit and smiled.
"Subatomic," he said as he turned up the music on the radio. It was "Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon."
They both sat back and smiled as the car filled up with smoke.