e and Jim poked holes in the coke can and set a block of hash on top of the holes and lit it. He stood on top of one pump housing at the dike, and I stood on top of another one right beside him. Some younger teenagers were whispering awe at our audacity for smoking hash within eyeball range of the beach--moms with kiddies and all that. We posed for them and passed the pipe all casual. The smoke was harsh like burning tires. We laughed and smoked it all.

People who didn't know Jim called him gay. People who did know him knew he was gay but didn't call him anything, just only couldn't stop a stray hand from creeping up to rest on his shoulder for half a second.

The sheriff's car pulled up to the parking lot. The old man stepped out and shuffled toward the beach. One of the moms pointed toward us. Jim flicked the top of my shoulder with the back of his hand. He pointed with his head.

"Ayuh," I said.

Standing on top of the pump housings made us about ten feet above the water--just the right height for surveying the world.

Jim jumped straight into the air. He spread his arms and shouted, "Wow! It's Fresca!"

That was his special thing to make me crack up. I tried not to laugh, but it built up and built up and finally came bursting out of me in a loud donkey bray. Jim laughed at that and I laughed at him, and we both laughed and laughed as the sheriff walked toward us.

We dove into the water and let the current carry us away. It was our plan all along. We climbed out of the water downstream, and onto a rock big enough to lay on and we spread out and let the June sun replace the energy we lost.

On the rock Jim grabbed my arm. He cocked his head as if listening for danger. "Shhhh" he said.

I waited.

The sun dried us and Jim never moved and neither did I.

Jim let go of my arm and dropped his eyes to meet mine. The sun just swung enough behind him so the reflection off his hair made a halo. "My friend," he said. 'I've just been visited by the supreme being. He told me that everything was different. As of this second there is a new world order."

I said, "I know it. I feel it too."

"I know you do," he said. The love shooting out of his smile, the kindness and warmth, and trust just radiating out of him at once made me feel guilty for lying and glad that I did. I didn't know if it was a joke or not. Does sunlight lie?

It occurred to me, who could ever say different? If we said the world was different, then it would be. Who could prove the world was the same? Ha! Dammit, the world was different. It was a whole new place.

"Jim, how is it different?"

"Man, I can't say what is the same. We are, all of us and every thing in the world just slightly shifted over. He floated both of his hands through the air as he talked, weaving them in and out. Sometimes they went so fast they left images behind like an old moving picture. "Could be we are the only people who even noticed. We were lucky to be wet and stoned at the same time. That might have done the trick."

"Will it last?"

Jim smiled like Jesus might have smiled. His blue eyes sparkled juicy pleasure. "It can't not last. It's like changing a disposable diaper: The old one is in the trash, gone forever. Everything is fresher." If Jesus ever once talked about baby shit, this was how it would have looked.

"But it won't last, right? Just like that diaper, it gets full again?"

Jim stood and stretched. He luxuriated in it. He acted just then like we both knew you couldn't act in a town like were we lived. He stretched like he was looking for a beating. But there was only us. He dove into the water. When his head broke the surface twenty feet away, he shouted into the sun, "There is more love in this world!"

I dove after him.

 

[END]

© 2003 David Bulley