Pink Buds

Running through the weed patch, laughing, I listened for the others as they ran all around me. Who knew there was such a gold mine, or rather, field, right here outside the city limits? Jay Jay had stopped somewhere up ahead, and I could hear him with his “Blessed Mother Mary’s.” While Will and Trina were giggling together somewhere behind me, Suzie was just ahead of me, just as giddy as I was, looking over her shoulder like she wanted to ask me a question.

Up ahead, in the center of it all, was a building. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I was drawn to it. Picking up my pace, I hurried towards the shed, wondering what was inside.

Only as I opened the door did I pause and wonder if we should even be here. Shaking the thought from my mind just as quickly as it came, I stepped through the opening. Feeling beside me, I was surprised to find a light switch, and once flipped on, it worked.

Inside this shed, a forest was greeting me. Cannabis strains of various known and unknown origins were all around me. The shed went deeper into the ground, set up like a warehouse, with more drying floors than one could imagine. Fans in the rafters helped to control the humidity. It was an amazing setup.

I walked deeper inside, going down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs was a cutting room with tables. Each surface was covered with a different strain of marijuana, some I’d never seen before.

Walking around the room, I had a sudden urge. Pulling my papers from my pack, I proceeded to sample a bit here and there. A little skunk here, a little indica there. A bit of sativa for good measure. After about six joints, I was higher than a freaking kite.

Then I came to the Fuchsia Bud, and I paused. A single bud, by itself. It wasn’t Kush, Whip, or Rozay. Nor was it any other known pink strain I’d ever seen. This was something new. First of all, the pink was some radioactive color that should have warned me off in the first place.

Instead, I pulled out a paper, busted up that sticky ass bud, and I rolled a Cheech and Chong joint. I puffed and never once thought about calling my friends to share in the glorious taste of it. As I blew out the smoke, I was amazed to see it come out in the same toxic magenta color. I smoked until the roach was no more, the joint was that smooth. Then I sat back and waited for the buzz to kick in.

After about ten minutes, I figured it would be best if I got moving, or else I’d stay down here forever. Looking around, I saw a military bag, and I decided to take my favorites with me before I left, stuffing the duffle with over forty pounds of weed.

Up top, I headed straight outside and ran into Will, who immediately asked where I’d been; they’d been hollering for me over an hour now. Telling him I’d been deep inside the building, and I’d been unable to hear them calling for me. I then told Will what I found, holding up the bag and smiling, and informed him I had brought back more. I fully neglected to mention the raspberry-hued bud.

Commenting that we should get the others and roll another fattie for all of us, I began to walk towards Suzie’s voice. As I walked past Will, he asked if I was ok. Then grabbed my elbow. I felt a zap. It was when he said my name that I knew something was wrong.

Pieppppurr

What the hell was with the extra letters?

I looked over at Will. The fool was stoned out of his gourd. So high he couldn’t even sit, he had to lie down. I bent over and slapped his cheek, feeling the same zap when I touched his face. In concern, I watched as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He was out cold.

Freaked out, I was unsure what had happened. I hollered for the others to come and help. Scared to touch Will again myself. Finally, the other three appeared. Jay Jay assessed the situation and declared Will had smoked too much weed and passed out.

I looked at Jay Jay and called him a jerk. Dude thinks he’s going to be a doctor someday. Maybe a Frankenstein or Dr. Jekyll.

We spent thirty minutes arguing about how we would get Will out of the patch, and still, he hadn’t woken up. Trina was quietly sitting by the entire time. Then they stood suddenly, picked Will up in a perfect fireman's carry, and began walking the way we had entered the field.

After that, I made sure not to touch anyone, afraid of what would happen to them. Glad I lived alone. Even happier that I worked remotely. I was able to avoid touching anyone. No pets in my building, so I had no worries about what my touch would do to a poor animal.

By the end of the week, I had gone through almost a pound of weed with no effects from the same buds that had stoned me at the pot farm. Frustrated with each passing day, I was unable to catch a buzz from the excellent bud. I smoked, and I ate buds, trying to recreate a high. All to no avail.

Finally, I decided the thing I must do was to get out of the house. To see some sites, eat some food, or do some shopping. On my way out the door, I decided to grab some cash from the nearest ATM before I picked a destination for my little excursion.

As I walked, I thought more about the toxic pink bud and its side effects. I wondered what it did to me that caused me to be unable to feel a high. Then I considered what had happened to Will. Twice I had touched him, twice a bolt had shot from me to him. Both times, he seemed to grow extremely buzzed, even though later he’d sworn he’d only smoked one joint after arriving in the field. Was this a permanent repercussion of greedily smoking that tasty bud?

Arriving at the ATM a couple of blocks from my building, I stood in line behind a little old woman from down the street and Tess, the new girl from 2E. I felt bad for the older woman because she moved slowly with arthritis and wished there was a way I could help her. Tess turned and smiled at me, shyly saying she liked my perfume. Honestly, I had forgotten to put any on, so when she said that, I knew I was reeking.

Finally moving out of the way, the aged grandmother began adding her money to her wallet, while Tess started forward and entered her info into the machine. I patiently waited, looking at my feet. I didn’t notice the three guys with bandannas at first until one of them grabbed the older lady and demanded that Tess withdraw her limit or they’d kill us all.

I could see Tess shaking as she entered more info into the ATM. The poor older lady was clutching her chest, gasping for air. I knew something had to be done, and I wondered if I could control my newfound power long enough to do it.

Looking to my side, I blew. A thin trail of smoke began to form, then waft towards the thug to my right. As I blew, the trail grew stronger and longer. It traveled up his nose, and he still didn’t know what was going on as he began to go down. I blew another quick puff in his direction, for good measure, then turned to my left and began on his comrade. Twirling my finger, the smoke I sent his way formed a tornado, which held him in the center no matter where he moved.

That left me free to fend off the third mugger. First, I had to figure out how to remove the arthritic grandma from harm’s way. I blew a small puff of air her way. Then I aimed my finger at the robber, as if I held a gun, and pulled the imaginary trigger. A condensed bullet-shaped puff of air charged from my pointer and exploded directly in his face. Shocked, he gasped, inhaling the straight shot, and began to cough and hack. The surprise caused him to let go of the lady, and I was already next to him, touching his arm and knocking him out.

Tess must have caught a contact high from all the smoke because she couldn’t tell the cops what had happened after the thugs had appeared any more than the older woman had been able to. Luckily, I’d been just outside of the camera’s eye, and it’d only picked up the third creep, Tess, and the older lady. I felt a massive relief over this.

As I continued with my day, practicing my new ability here and there, I thought about names I could give myself. I could smoke a shit ton of weed, and feel no effects, but I could pass that high on to anyone I chose. Even forcing smoke down into their airways. I was like some type of pipe for people. I was a community joint. I was the Human Bong, stopping crime by bringing a weed coma to those who break the law and bringing peace by relieving pain and suffering where I can.

A/N: This is a story I did for a small prompt Michelle made for fun in ViM. I enjoyed writing this, as my youngest daughter got involved in the brainstorming of this piece, and she also okay'd the final product.