The Joshua Tree Prophecy 4: Buzz Kill
The Joshua Tree Prophecy
By Lucas Boulderguard
Buzz Kill
Halfway up the basement steps, a pounding carried from the front door. Hardly a gentle knock, it was more like the steady rap-rap-rap of a police officer.
"Holy shit," slipped out of my mouth and I froze mid-step while a dozen paranoid thoughts clang around in my noggin. Mostly half-kiltered weed-mares. My stash is gonna get me put away for a long time...Holy fuck! And, oh my god... oh my god... oh my god. I was loopy enough in my post-toke glaze that I could almost believe that... I just completely snapped and killed someone and forgot all about it. Like temporary insanity, man. And, that fucking tree I saw... It was like a vision.
After a few seconds, the only thing pounding was the inside of my chest. I wheezed a quick breath. Coughed. And breathed again. And reason finally started to take over. Even if the police think I'm the Bud King, they need a search warrant. And even if they have one, my stash isn't big enough to break any laws. And, no, I didn't blank out and kill someone without remembering it. And... I don't have a clue why I saw myself in the desert by a Joshua Tree. Probably because Mom always tells me the story of how I kicked in her womb when she saw the fucking tree.
I let out a little chuckle at myself for being such a cunt and climbed the rest of the way up the steps. Crossed the kitchen and stopped in the foyer. The knocking came again but softer. More civilized. I stepped around the corner.
"Fuck!" My voice was a pitch higher and louder than I intended. It wasn't Nicolai; it was the brother, Jurien. Not quite as creepy as his brother and not quite as handsome. "Alright, fuck it! At least I've got my buzz on."
I crossed to the front door and glanced out. He had come alone. I opened the and...
"Hey, do you have a car?" As soon as the door stopped moving, his words came at me like darts. No greetings. No introductions. No bullshit small talk.
I took a step back. "Excuse me?"
"A car! You know one of those things with wheels. You drive them." He turned an invisible steering wheel.
I shook my head. More of a 'woah' than 'no' "Are you fucking autistic or something?"
"No, I'm not fucking... Jesus, I need to borrow your car, dude!"
I glanced at the driveway. Empty. "What happened to your truck?"
"My mom had to take it back to the rental and..." He held his hands out. "What the fuck does that have to do with... anything?"
"No, I don't have a car." I fibbed.
He crossed his arms. Glanced at my piece of shit Toyota hatchback parked in the driveway. "And that?"
"Doesn't run."
"Bullshit!"
I slammed the door in his face. Flipped the lock and fastened the chain. I was halfway to the stairs when the pounding began again. Fuck, this guy's a psycho! I was about ready to phone the police when the most bizarre thought just popped in my head. Don't forget the apple crisp. Save yourself the trip. Maybe the munchies were kicking in. I don't know.
I scooted over to the refrigerator, slung open the magnetic door, and snatched the apple crisp. I turned back to all the rude-ass banging.
Careful to leave the chain fastened, I opened the lock, and cracked the door open.
"Hey, dude, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm tired from the move and cranky... And I'm Jurien. Your new... neighbor." He spoke like the word 'neighbor' was a hard find.
"Just so ya know... most people start with the greetings and introductions. And only after a certain amount of small talk and an offer to suck their neighbor's dick, do they ask to borrow their car."
"Look, I just need to get my brother to the Res."
"Res.? As in Reservation?" I asked.
He nodded.
"Sorry, I can't help you." I knew all about the Rez. But my assholeishness quota had just been reached. I shoved the apple crisp through the gap in the door.
"What's this?" He took the apple crisp and raised it to his face.
"Well, welcome to the neighborhood and shit."
He held the crisp right under his nose and sniffed. "What? What are you..." He raised his chin and stared at me with two dark eyes. "Why would you do this?"
"It's called being neighborly."
He slammed the crisp against the porch and I slammed the door. Double-checked the dead bolt.
"You can't do this to us, Joshua!" He screamed through the door, but I was already halfway to the basement steps.
"JOSHUAAAAAAAAAA!" He shouted.
I bounded down the steps, bolted across the basement, and ducked into my den.
"JOSH!" His voice carried through the house. "I know about the prophecy!"
I slammed the steel door, slid the bar across, and closed the world out.