Tiny Novel Part One

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"Those are pretty big bones." This from Robert with

the flair for the obvious.

"No shit." Says Richard. "Neanderthal basketball. I wouldn't touch 'em if were you."

I didn't want to touch them but I knew it'd annoy Richard. Mr.

Advice, Mr. Sensible. Fuck him. I felt one of the bones. It was dry.

Germs aren't dry, right? I picked up a leg bone, a femur. It was light

for it's size and came away from the rest of the bones without any resistance.

I stood up with it and held it against my leg. I estimated where my own

bone started, where the ball joint of my hip was, and dangle it from there.

It came down almost to my ankle.

"Jesus" I said.

"No way it could be Jesus man, he wasn't that tall."

Richard and I gave Robert a look. Sometime you couldn't believe

just how dim he was.

"That's a big bone." This with such earnest that it almost disarmed us.

"Yea, well this is a big bone too." says Richard pulling out a monster

joint from an inner pocket of his parka.

"I thought you said you were out, you bastard."

"Special occasion. A bone in honor of Mr. Bones."

"I'm a doctor Jim, not a skeleton" says Robert, his eyes a bit glazed over.

"You're a funny guy Robert" I said and gave the poor jerk a pat on the back.

"Yea, a fucking ... laugh riot ..." says Richard between pulls. He's got the

joint lit up good and passes it to me even though Robert is standing between us. I

take it but hand it immediately to Robert. Richard shrugs and moves back over to the

skeleton. Robert takes too big a nit and starts coughing. Richard laughs. Then he leans

over and blows smoke into the skull. The smoke clings eerily to it.

"Look at that smile. Probably hasn't gotten high in ages." This is funny. I mean,

it's funnier then it might seem now, but I stick the joint in my mouth and suck deep

on it so I won't laugh and give Richard the satisfaction. I hold the smoke down a long

time and hold up the bone and give it a good looking over. Then I remember this story.

"Hey, you know what?" I say blowing out the smoke.

"Huh?" says Robert now recovered from his hit.

"This reminds me. I was on this farm once. Not a real farm, some friends live there.

They had a house all to themselves man. And they had these endless parties. So like one

night I'm there and I step outside, you know, just for a second to clear my head. And it's

real dark out."

"Stop saying 'you know' all the time. If I knew I wouldn't have to listen to you

telling me this lame ass ..."

"Shut the fuck up Richard." I take another hit before passing the joint to him.

"So ... it was really dark, like, you KNOW what dark is, right motherfucker ..." but

luckily Richard to busy sucking on the joint to come back at me. "And It's cold too and

I'm just standing there and the dog comes up. Big ass Irish setter and he's got a stick in

his mouth and I figure, you know, he wants to play stick."

"Yes, I know stick" says Richard. Without stopping I flip him the bird.

"So I reach down and take the stick. But it's like, I don't know, damp, and real

heavy. At first I thought it was just a rotten piece of wood. But I hold it up to the

window, in the light. And then I see it's not a stick at all, man, it's the fucking leg

of a deer!"

I hold the bone up as I say this and wave it at Richard. Robert takes a step back.

"A god damn fucking deer leg. Like no wonder it feels damp. So I kind of scream,

you know, like AAAAH! and drop it in a big hurry."

"Like a girl you mean." I ignore this remark.

"I mean, it was just so unexpected. I thought I was hold a stick, not a chunk of

some animal. But I just picked it back up. It's just the leg of a deer, no big deal. And

the dog is sitting there waiting, panting, waging it's tail and all. So I look the leg over

real good, thinking 'yup, deer leg' and then I throw it and the dog duns off and gets it

and we play stick ... or leg, we play leg for awhile. It was cool."

"You're making this shit up."

"I've seen deer in the woods" says Robert. Richard and I exchange glances. About

the only thing he and I agree on is how dim Robert is. But Robert senses this.

"No, I mean dead deer. One was all chewed up."

"The local dogs run in packs and they'll kill a deer."

"You don't say. And you're who, Marlin Perkins or something."

Richard smiles at me like he couldn't care less and hands me the joint which by

now is just a big roach. I get one more big hit off it.

"We should get going" says Robert.

And then, as if by some signal we all go over to the skeleton again. We just stand

over it in silence. It seems like it was a long time, just standing there, but it was probably

only a minute or so. Then I put the roach on the forehead of the skull. Real carefully right

were the third eye.

"Now he'll always be stoned. Now and always into eternity." says Richard.

"Fuck you." I said. But not like I'm always saying 'fuck you' to Richard, which is

normally like every other sentence. I said it sort of hard, too hard, like I meant it. But

he didn't say anything. I glanced sideways at him ready to say it again if he gave me any

shit. But he was just looking down at the bones. And then we leave.