There was nothing fractured in their ability to create together. It was as seamless as that last night back at Zakk’s place when they’d butchered the SoCo and all of Dez’s weed writing Unholy Dreams.
“When I was a kid I used to think about death a lot,” Dez said softly, taking a long drag on the joint before passing it over. “I used to wonder if I’d get to see my folks again, only how would they recognize me? I’d recognize them, from their pictures, but what if they didn’t want to know the person I’d become.”
“Kinda heavy stuff to be thinking about when you’re little.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Dez heaved a sigh and leaned back, sprawling bonelessly on the ground behind him. At least there was no risk of falling. Even if Dez slid, they were only four feet from the outcropping beneath them. The cactus might suck, but Dez wouldn’t die.
“I don’t think they’d like me much,” Dez said softly. “I picture them disappointed, like the time I painted the television screen because I hated that it was dark. I didn’t know we wouldn’t be able to see the shows on it. I just wanted it to be colorful like the cartoons I loved to watch.”
“We all do stupid shit, and make epic messes, especially when we’re kids” Zakk replied. “I thought my old man was gonna choke the life outta me when he came home to find a section of fence laying on the lawn, two of the rain gutters torn off, and several broken shingle bits strewn all over the porch. He probably would have too if my leg wasn’t in a cast.”
Dez sat up a little and fixed him with a completely incredulous look. “How the fuck did you manage that?”
“I may have used a ladder to climb on the roof with my sled so I could launch myself off it.”
“Holy shit.”
“Man that fucker flew too. Way further than I thought it would.”
“Thus the fence.”
“Yeah. That part sucked.”
“If me or my cousin pulled that, my uncle would have hammered the fence back in place with one of our heads.”
“See. That’s exactly my point. If some paint where it didn’t belong was the worse you did, your folks had it easy.”
“Ech.” Dez muttered. “It’s not like they got to see me get old enough to get into any real shit.”
“True. But none of us know happens after death. For all we know, they could be your guardian angels, keeping you from the super deadly fuck ups and watching you shred up on the stage. If that’s not something to be proud of, I don’t know what is.”
“I guess.”
“Dez?”
“Sorry, it’s been a long week. I may have forgotten some of my meds a couple times.”
“How many is a couple?”
When Dez held up his hands, shrugged, and looked away, Zakk knew it was something to be concerned about.
“I don’t mean to do it. Everything started to feel pointless. Guess there were times I was too tired to care.”
“Which is when you speak up.”
“After a while time started melting together and I sorta lost track of the days adding up. I’m good though. I took them this morning.”
“Aren’t you supposed to take them before bed?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t been to bed yet.”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ Dez, you can’t do that shit. It’s dangerous and Riley should be making sure he’s keeping track of you taking them if you can’t.”
“You’re kind of forgetting something.”
“What?” Zakk snapped, staring straight at him. Not that Dez was looking his way. He was staring at the sky again, one arm thrown over his head, joint between his lips, the bright red cherry indicating that he was still smoking the thing. Too bad. Zakk plucked it from between his fingers and took a drag of his own, since Dez kept forgetting the pass the damn thing.