The Brush Strokes

He lit another cigarette, rested his arm on the bar and then ordered
another shot of whisky. He took the glass in his hand and gulped the
Jack Daniels down in one. Took the cigarette up to his mouth and took a
drag. "You know, James," He slurred to his companion, "It's hard to
find your way when your mind is this fucked." James just nodded. He was
used to Jakes lines of woe. "You gotta find it in yourself, you've got
to want to find your own head when things get this bad for you." Jake
had been in the bar every night for the last month and most days
too.

"Jake," The bartender walked over, "What is your problem? Every night
you're in my bar, talking about your losses and you never seem to do
anything about finding them again. I'm not complaining, your spending
money on my drinks, but man, you gotta pull yourself back together.
Rose wasn't that special."

"What do you know about it, Arn?" Jake spat back at him. "Hit me with
another shot."

Rose had walked out of Jakes life a month ago. She'd been cheating on
him with another woman. He'd taken it hard. He was insulted. It was an
insult to his manhood, his masculinity that his fianace had taken with
another woman. "You ain't never had this happen to you, either of you.
You can't understand what I'm feeling here."

Jakes cigarette was burning low as he took another drag. The smoke was
hot and burned the inside of his mouth, all the way down to his lungs.
Arn placed another shot of whisky in front of him. "Man, I gotta get
out of myself." He took off his long leather coat. James shifted
uncomfortable on his stool.

"Jake, you've got to get yourself together again. For your own sake,
and ours. Remember when we used to have fun when we went out? All we do
now is sit in Arns bar and I watch you drink a bottle of Jack every
night."

"Shut it." Jake stared at his friend, his brow furrowed and his eyes
half-closed into slits. "The times before, Rose was around for me when
I got in. Nursed my hangovers in the morning, brought me a cooked
breakfast in the morning. Talked to me, asked what we'd gotten up to,
acted like she really cared, really loved me and all the time she was
fucking some other bitch!"

"We gotta get you away from this town for a bit. Get you into another
space, someplace you ain't never been, where nothing can remind you of
Ro&;#8230;"

"Everything reminds me of her!" He shouted, cutting James off
mid-word.

"DUDE!" James shouted back, "You have to do something, you're drinking
yourself to death."

The night went on like this, as did every night and after the bar
closed, Jake and James headed back to James' apartment in Camden.

"You got any dope left?" Jake asked.

"Jake, I think you're fucked up enough on the JD, don't you?"

"Roll a joint.. I can't sleep when I'm this angry."

"You're always this angry. Every night it's 'roll me a fuckin' joint'
you're becoming dependant on it to help you sleep."

"Better that then sleeping pills."

James nodded in half agreement. "You know where it is. Roll yourself
one. I'm going for a shit."

Jake headed to the table in the far corner of the room. The walls where
painted black, Jake had done this to James' apartment the night Rose
left him. James thought it was a good idea. The carpet was a dark blue.
On top of the table was a small wooden box with a hinged top. Jake
opened it up, the smell of the skunk was potent. He took the small bag
out along with a pack of king-size Rizla papers.

Next, he removed a cigarette from his packet, licked along the length
of it and scraped the paper away. Bits of tobacco fell onto the carpet.
He emptied half the cigarette into the Rizla, which he had positioned
on top of the wooden box. Then, he opened the bag containing the skunk.
He pulled a small twig out and started to pull the leaves apart,
tearing them into tiny pieces and spreading them evenly over the
tobacco in the Rizla. When he had packed it full, he picked it up and
started to roll. He licked the gum on the paper and sealed it into a
perfect round. "James! It's ready. I'm lighting it up now. And hurry
with that shit I'm dying for a piss now!"

He placed the newly rolled spliff in his mouth, searched his jeans
pocket for a light. He pulled out a box of matches and struck one. The
glow from the flame lit up his face, his hair getting singed in the
process. He should've tied it back really, or at least brushed it from
his face first. He inhaled as he brought the match to the end of the
spliff and then exhaled a plume of white smoke. "Ahhh&;#8230;" he
sighed. James returned from the toilet as he took his second drag.
"Man, this is some good shit."

"Thought you wanted a piss?" James asked, trying to mask the fact that
what he really meant was "Gimme the fucking joint."

"Oh yeah." Jake replied as he handed his friend the spliff. He walked
to the bathroom, switched on the light, lifted the seat cover and
started to piss.

A couple of minutes later he returned. James' eyes had half closed.
Jake could tell he was getting stoned. He took a drag and held it in,
counted to ten and breathed it back out slowly. He could feel the dope
getting into his brain and loosening up his thoughts. "Get another
rolled, Jimmy."

James complied. He hated being called that, but really wasn't in the
frame of mind to complain. As he rolled, he looked at Jake finishing
off the first spliff. "So, what're you gonna do? You've moped around
for the last month. We gotta get you outta here."

"I think you're right. Where do we go?"

"Ireland. We can go to Dublin for a week or two, get shit-faced, score
some gear and get us both laid."

"What about the bombs?"

"Fuck that shit man.." James trailed off as he placed the newly rolled
joint in his mouth. He took the matches from Jake and sparked up. "We
don't need to worry about that."

"Yeah. " James burst into uncontrollable laughter, giggling like the
proverbial schoolgirl. He assumed a bad Irish accent and continued, "If
dey tink dey can fuk wit us, dey got anoter ting commin'."

This set Jake off laughing swell. "Pass me dat little fukka over here
will ya?" James slowly passed the spliff and led back on the
floor.

"Hay, do you think we should do something with this ceiling? It's
awfully dull!" Jake said, forcing an upper class English accent onto
his question.

"Let's smoke a bit more... then see what we feel like doing."

Another half an hour passed with them both rolling joints. They smoked
five in this time. Jakes head span. He felt his skin become clammy and
his heartbeat increase. "Shit, I'm whiting." he panted, "Get me
something sweet to eat, to eat, treat, beat, skeet&;#8230; " Jake
wasn't making much sense now... well, not to anyone other than James
who had again burst into laughter.

"Shit man, there's some&;#8230;" James paused whilst he thought
about what to say next, "Chocolate in the fridge... you know where the,
um... " Another pause. "You know... Ahh... bollocks... the
um&;#8230; fuckit&;#8230; I'll get it meself." James gave up
trying to remember the word 'kitchen', stood up, stumbled and went to
the fridge for chocolate.

"Cheers man." Jake slurred. He ate the chocolate bar and led still for
a while. "What do you think Rose is doing at the moment, James?"

"Jake, let's not go there&;#8230; "

"Seriously... do you think she's licking that other bitch out? Fucking
her? I bet she is&;#8230;"

"Jake&;#8230;."

"Tell me James, you ever thought of what it'd be like?"

"Fucking a man? Dude..."

"No, I mean&;#8230; oh I don't know..."

"What are you saying, man?!" James exclaimed.

"I've forgotten &;#8230; each to their own. Except Rosy was mine and
that bitch took her away." Jakes head was clouding over, he could feel
sleep calling him.

"Wow&;#8230; I've never noticed the little brush markings on the
walls before where you painted&;#8230; like&;#8230; it's
so&;#8230; I'm not sure&;#8230;"

"Trippy?"

"Yeah, trippy. Man&;#8230; weird huh?"

"Yeah&;#8230; dude&;#8230; let's go out&;#8230; I feel like
some air or something&;#8230; I think."

They got up from the floor and headed to the door and out into the
night.