Sharing Smoke

She’s sick in the bathroom again. It’s the third time this week. These new medications seem to be making her sicker than she usually is and I am eager to give her some relief. She keeps me lined up next to her pill bottles and medical equipment. She’s warm and kind and it's been a pleasure for me to help her as her life nears an eventual end. She pauses for a second after washing her hands and rinsing out her mouth.

She takes a deep breath before picking me up and inhaling some of the contents of my container. Sweet pineapple flavoring masks the intense bitter taste of the CBD/THC hybrid product that her doctor suggested. Sitting down momentarily, her face slowly relaxes and she smiles lightly. I watch her stand back up and begin to gather the dirty laundry she has draped around her furniture and across the floor. Sticking me in her pocket with a fistful of quarters, she heads to the communal laundry room – basket of clothes in her arms. I like laundry day because the clothes are always so warm and soft. I usually get to sit next to the neat stacks she folds them into while watching Gordon Ramsay yell at people on her TV. These days of the week are fun with her and are a nice break from the usual stress we’re going through when her medications are making her too ill to get out of bed.

Taking me out of her pocket with her quarters, she sets me on a dryer while walking over to a washing machine. Throwing her items in the machine, she counts out quarters and drop them into the paying mechanism before adding her laundry soap and closing the door. She turns and begins walking to the laundry room door, pulling it closed after walking through it. She’s forgotten about me! I begin to wonder if I’ll miss today's episode of Hell’s Kitchen and clean laundry that slides so nicely against me while being folded.

The laundry door opens again quickly and a hurried woman walks to the machine I am sitting on. She eyes me quizzically while pulling her dry towels out and dropping them into her white, rectangular laundry basket. She closes the machine door and looks around. No one else is in the room right now. I watch her strain her neck to look out the two windows that open to a small grassy shared outdoor area – looking to see if anyone is coming. She quickly snatches me and shoves me down her blouse against her breast and bra. I’ve never been placed here before, but I could definitely get used to it! Together we walk back to her apartment of #33 with her clean laundry. Inside her living room, she sets the basket on a table before walking down the hall to where her two sons are playing video games in their room. Her voice is cheerful and happy.

“Hey boys, I’m going to walk over the community garden for a little bit. Do you think you guys can fold the towels I just washed when you're done with your game?” The boys are older and seem more responsible than the little ones my owner sometimes complains about; but they are still pretty loud. I feel relieved when we're back outside. She walks past the laundry room towards the parking lot where a garden has been planted in a communal effort to provide fresh produce and flowers for residents. It’s a nice area to sit at. My owner is there a lot these days. She isn’t much of a gardener anymore but she still enjoys the atmosphere of it. The lady in #33 sits down at the end of a picnic table and pulls me from her bosom, resting my tip beneath her nose. She sniffs me before examining my base and locating my power button. Pulling a large draw into her light lungs, she coughs as she exhales – drawing the attention of another resident who she didn’t see walking her way.

“Oh shit!” she laughs and wafts the air around her mouth to disperse my smoke.

“Well, well, well!” A man approaches, trash bag in hand. He must have been walking to the dumpsters.

“I thought I was alone for a second.” She smiles and apprehensively holds me out to him.

He contemplates taking me at first. He looks around to make sure no one can see him before lifting me from her hand, while smiling coyly at her. He sits beside her and draws some smoke from my container.

“Ew, what's this flavor?”

“No idea.” She responds. “I found it in the laundry room.”

His eyes surprise mid-way through his second draw at her sudden confession of thievery. She giggles awkwardly causing him to gasp into fits of coughing.

She bursts out laughing, causing a ricochet effect between them. Their fits of giggles intertwine with silent gasps of air as they struggle to catch their breath. Eventually their hysterics begin to settle and together they remark on the growing garden and the peaceful breeze of the evening. It's quiet. It's peaceful. The three of us sit together enjoying the relaxed ease. They are both beautiful humans and I admire their faces expressing back and forth to each other. Her smile gleams. His eyes fixate on hers and he drinks her voice into his soft-blue hueful aura.

“You're doing really well with them, you know.” His voice slides up behind hers. “They're really good kids. Growing into polite young men.”

She smiles lightly at him and they lock eyes for several seconds before she blushes and dips her face. He embraces her head in his hands and kisses her forehead. “I better get back. Uncle Ray is probably ready for me to make him some dinner.”

“Tell him I say hello?”

“Actually! You should come say hi yourself!” He takes her hand, lifting her from the table and leading her away from the area. I watch them fondly as dusk begins to settle. Their forms fade away down the isles of pale tulips, and summer squash that my owner likes to cook with. Night is settling in and my plastic container begins to cool. The thick syrup-like material in me will begin to crystallize soon, and I wonder if it might degrade the material if it freezes. It's been incredibly cold at night lately.

I don't have to sit alone for long though. A woman carrying boxes from her car to her apartment sits down to rest across from me. She seems tired as she checks the time on her phone and sighs deeply. Catching the lamp light against my glass cartridge, she turns her attention towards my direction.

“Oh!” She exclaims upon my sight. She thinks for a moment before continuing. “I think I’m just going to take this as a sign.”

She glances around quickly then wraps her fingers around me before picking up a small box and begins heading towards her apartment of #3. The inside is surprisingly empty. I've never seen one of these apartments before someone has moved in. We walk to her bathroom and I watch her sad face as she wipes drying tears and splashes water across her flushed cheeks.

We head to her empty living room. There’s no furniture, just a bare-bulbed lamp on the floor next to a small stack of boxes and a tall, thin bookcase. She slides her back down a wall and sits crossed legged on the newly shampooed carpet. Her eyes are red and she carries an air of defeat about her.

Another tear rolls down her cheek, but she doesnt start to cry. Adjusting my heat setting, she turns me up to burn as hot as possible and takes a very long and hard draw from my container. We sit in silence together for a few moments in the dim light, our shadows flowing together harmonically against the light smoke twirling in the air.

She’s young and innocent looking, and I realize this might be her first official apartment on her own. Maybe that explains the tears. I'm eager to cheer her up, and before I know it, she has her phone in her hands. Linking it to a small speaker, her silent new home is soon filled with loud, energetic music. My owner also likes to listen to music, but I’ve never heard this kind before. It’s very bass heavy and it echoes playfully off her bare walls.

She suddenly bounces to a stand and turns her music up louder. Hitting me again, we dance together to the beat of her sounds. I’ve never experienced dancing before but I instantly understand why humans enjoy it. Her shoulder length hair falls from its ponytail, tickling my sides. She shakes it out playfully while enjoying more of my contents. Her voice soon fills the air, and her vocals fall in line with the beats of her selected songs. She’s laughing and I can sense the energy change around her. Her thin frame spins and jumps around her new space playfully.

“OK.” She sighs after several minutes have passed. “Back to work. I can do this.” She pulls her hair back into a pony again, and sits me on her counter where I enjoy the sight of her carrying more boxes in from her vehicle outside. I admire her singing and dancing, and in turn, I feel happy and excited for this moment in her life.

She carefully unwraps fragile items from old newspapers and places them with intention on her wooden bookshelf. It's nearing dawn now and I can tell she is beginning to slow down. Pulling her tennis shoes on, she grabs me from the counter and uses me a couple more times as we head to the mailboxes. Setting me atop the large communal box of stacked mail lockers, she fumbles with her new keys, trying to open her specified box. Pulling the key in and out, and turning it hard left and right - she finally forces it open. She pulls out two pieces of mail, though neither appear to be addressed to her.

“Guess I’ll leave these in the front office.” They must belong to the tenet before her. She walks away toward her unit, and I listen to her sweet humming as it fades off in the distance peacefully. I sit alone for a while as the dawn rolls in. I can’t yet see the sun itself, but it’s light enough now to experience the morning unfold.

A loud car pulls into the complex's newly painted parking lot, picking up a resident before leaving the same way it came in. Crows are gathering into a dark murder in the trees that surround this place and their loud vocalizations echo in the air. Several residents walk by, heading to their own apartments, or to the dumpsters that have yet to be collected this morning. I wonder if my owner has noticed me missing this time. She is becoming more and more forgetful and sometimes I go days without seeing her. I’ve come to know so many of the humans who reside here. They are hard working individuals. They are poor. They are resilient. They are starting over in their lives, are falling ill, or are needing assistance to keep living on their own. They are families. They have loved ones. They smile and they fight. They laugh and they argue. They struggle and they support each other. They have made a wonderful existence here, together, as one organism and I am happy just to be able to view this experienced life with them.

A loud knocking sound disrupts my thoughts. It’s the mailman loading up the now unlocked boxes with today's mail, and he eyes me sitting alone as he shuffles his envelopes. There’s no room for larger packages in these lockers. Those items get placed in the laundry room for tenets to pick up on their own. The man tucks a couple long packages under his arms and grabs me with his spare hand. We head into the laundry room and he places me gently on a wooden table that residents use to fold their laundry on. He checks the screen of his scanning machine hooked to his belt, beeping in the packages barcodes. He sets them next to me, then exits the laundry room - holding a door open for a resident trying to enter.

“There you are!” It’s my owner! “Your poor thing! You’ve been locked up all night!” It’s nice being in her warm, soft hands again. We head back home to #9 and as we enter through the front door, I can hear Gordon Ramsay scream, “It’s raw you donkey!” My owner laughs and sits me upright back on her shelfs of medications and medical equipment. I gleam as she heads back to her reclining chair and begins setting up her treatment for the day. She laughs softly as the show continues and I feel grateful to be back home with her after my night out with the neighbors.