Whale Time: Re: Avram

Re: Avram
Pernambuco, Maracaipe

all stories and essays by Avram Klein

Brown Weed

My brown weed habit quickly turned into twenty grams of Pernambuco bud. Christchopher, my source, came and got me in my campsite while I was taking a shit in the outhouse with the door open. We went back to his place in the heart of the fishing village of Maracaipe and he laid the huge quantity of weed out on his bed loosely wrapped in the page of a magazine.

He and his girlfriend, his buddy Sergio, a few other people, and I passed a joint in the living room and watched an old Kelly Slater video. We got pretty irie and laid there not moving, while the surf rock drifted through our heads and Sergio explained to me in Portuguese how good Kelly Slater is at surfing.

After a while we became restless and I thought it would be only right for me to roll a joint. I was feeling rather festive because it was the first time I had bought a lot of weed in a couple of years.

Sergio and I went into the kitchen and I plucked five buds off the top of the huge pile of shake and dropped them on a rolling paper. Sergio was a little confused about what to do with all the weed, but with the aid of some scissors, three papers and Christchopher's rolling skills, we constructed a pot cigar. It was lovely and burned just like a cigar with a huge, red pointed cherry.

After some time I foolishly excused myself thinking we would all be making it out to the disco in Porto do Gualinas later that night. I attempted to make my way to the beach but became confused and got caught in a church courtyard with no sense of direction and my one contact lens soaking on my toungue.

I wandered a few feet down each street leading out of the courtyard only to find, to my chagrin, the mom and young son who own my campsite watching me. The mom suggested that I had been drinking and then the boy, smiling bright, yelled cheerful orders as I continued to wander in several wrong directions.

He eventually ran over and lead me down a path through the trees. I slapped him five and was off. Out on the beach, the headlights from the buggies kind of freaked me out.

I reeked and had a ton of pot in my pocket. I wandered down onto the sand and sat for a while staring at the sky. The clouds formed the clear black image of a plane with the moon as the light on the wing. The plane was surrounded by a giant sea horse. I wasn't sure of the significance of the images, partly because of two giant bad guy faces next to the plane. It was warm and comfortable out there on the beach, but frightening all the same.

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