The Start of Something New

You ever hear of those stories that involve an unknowing character that never tries anything, but is suddenly thrust into a new world that they would have never discovered had it not been for the intervention of something, or someone?

I never liked those stories. People hate change after all, so why would a narrative fit that troupe?

Well, at least that is how I perceived things, until I - gasp - met someone that forced me to change! Life has a way of making that happen.

My name is Rodrigues Contador, no relation to that cyclist (though I get that a lot), and I certainly wasn't vested in cycling back then. I lived in Lethbridge, Alberta, Canada for a short time many years ago. It's a small city that has been dubbed by some residents as "Deathbridge." Essentially, people came to Lethbridge to die or retire, at least that was what the residents I met said. Not exactly a growth city; however, it has been touted as one of the fastest growing cities in Alberta, so I guess change is happening to the ol' city after all. Still, that doesn't change the fact that nothing happens there.

Lethbridge is as boring as eggshell paint on a wall. I loathed the idea of even travelling to that city, but my friends were insistent on the idea. Scott Bergman, a red-haired, freckled, giant of a guy, came to me with the idea one day while we were playing videogames at an internet café. Some people called Scott "Screech" because he looked just like that character from Saved by the Bell, but I never watched the show; though "Stretch" would have made sense since he was such a tall guy.

We were playing some first-person shooters against some of the regulars at this café, and we were losing like normal when Scott came over after a match and whispered, "Come outside for a toke." Did I mention I was a pothead?

This was normal since we both smoked a lot of weed, so I was surprised when he said to me, "It's time to get out and take over the world!"

I had just inhaled my second puff when I started coughing a fit.

After my throat attack subsided, I responded incredulously, "What are you talking about," and passed the joint back to him.

"High school is over and done with, and now we can do whatever we want!" Scott took a deep inhale from the joint, raised his hands up, and slowly exhaled a large cloud of smoke into the air, and then shot me this huge, wide-eye smile. He was pretty excited, I wondered what got into him. He was a very optimistic guy, and he was one of those people that saw the good in everything.

"I think we should get out of Edmonton for a while and just live it up, get high all the time," he said, passing the joint back to me.

I thought about it for a moment, uncertain and a little freaked out by the idea.

"I don't know man. Where would we even go?" The joint was done, so I pocketed the filter.

"That's the thing, I already have a place in mind, and we have a house and jobs waiting for us," exclaimed Scott while he opened the door to the café.

I was surprised but intrigued. "Is that right?" We got to our computers and took our seats.

"It sounds pretty good, but I need to think about it," I said.

"For sure brother! No rush!" Scott threw on his headphones

I was at the computer at this point when I realized I wasn't sure where it would be. We had switched from a shooter to a multiplayer online battle arena or MOBA for short, so I sent him an in-game chat asking where.

He replied: Lethbridge.

I thought to myself, Why the hell would we go to Lethbridge?

Lethbridge wasn't exactly the nicest place for a guy like me to go. I heard rumours about people of colour not exactly being treated well while in the city, not to mention all the Mormon's and their constant door-to-door preaching. I put it aside though, enjoyed my high, and got to playing our game.

Scott told me later that our mutual friend from the café, Lionel, had been living in Lethbridge for the past year with his mom and sister. He said that Lionel had a place for us to stay, and that we would be living it up in his new business: a bookstore.

"Are you for real?" I said wide-eyed while we sat by the river downtown a few days later, smoking a joint.

"Sounds pretty good, doesn't it?" said Scott, grinning from ear to ear.

I imagined it, myself sitting at the cash register, feet up on the desk, guitar in hand, and strumming to my heart's content. It was a blissful dream, one where I was fulfilling all my desires at once, save a girlfriend of course.

After passing the joint to Scott, I told him I was in. "I knew you would do it!" said Scott, all while slapping me across the back as hard as he could. I nearly fell into the river, and he had to grab my jacket. Compared to him, I was basically a child in size. Like I said, he's a tall one.

And just like that, we started planning everything out. Things worked out for me because the place I was staying at was being sold to someone else, so everyone that lived there had to move by the end of the month.

We put in our two-weeks’ notice at the kitchen we worked at, and we then called up our supervisor, a good friend of ours named Went, to help us out. His dad was a delivery truck driver, and he had a small truck that was exactly what we needed to move us to Lethbridge.

At the end of the month, after saving up at least $1500 for the house, we were on our way to Lethbridge. Walter, Went's dad, was an aging hippie, with an enormous white beard, and long white hair tied in a ponytail covered with an Edmonton Oilers ballcap. Being a hippie came with the amazing positive of being a fellow pothead. He asked us, "Do you guys want to smoke a joint?” He pulled a joint from his left ear and passed it over to Scott, who was sitting between us in the truck.

"Give it a light son, I need to play some games." Scott reached for his Bic and off to the races we went, literally.

We were shooting through traffic on the 101, the highway that led to Lethbridge. We passed cars, we trailed them, we raced them. Walter said he enjoyed his rides best when he treated the road like a racetrack, with everyone having their own finish line. However, as we learned, he liked to zip ahead and one up any unsuspecting drivers.

Before we knew it, we were at Lionel's place, unloading our stuff from Walter’s small truck. Lionel’s mom was insistent that we throw everything into the backyard.

When me and Scott finished and covered it all with a tarp, we went inside Lionel’s place to find his mom sitting at the kitchen table in her house with a cigarette in hand. His mom’s long red hair gleamed in the sun, despite being in a topknot.

“Are you boys hungry? How about a slice of chocolate cake?” Before we could say anything, she put the cigarette in her mouth and walked over to the fridge, not bothered by the smoke as it masked her face.

“Yes ma’am, I’m starving!” Scott exclaimed. I was hungry too. We were easing out of our high and were craving some food, especially something sweet.

“Me too,” I said while grabbing a chair in the brightly lit, rustic kitchen.

“Lionel will be back soon; he still hasn’t finished up with work.”

We didn’t want to tip her off on being high as we heard she wasn’t a fan of any sort of drugs. She brought plates with the chocolate cake slices on them, and some cutlery with them. I was ready to dive in, same with Scott, when she asked us, “Where are you guys staying anyway?” Scott, his faced stuffed with cake, murmured with his mouth full, “We ‘ave a p-ace.”

Lionel’s mom was surprised. She tipped her head back and belted a laugh, “Are you serious? How can that be? Didn’t you just arrive?”

I hadn’t touched my cake, but her words freaked me out, “What are you talking about? Lionel said we have a place and jobs ready for us.” I was confident in this, after all, all my stuff was sitting in the backyard, and my ride drove away. This had to work.

“Lionel said that?” She laughed some more, “Oh, you boys are cute. Lionel has been working, and then he comes homes to play videogames. When the hell would he make the time to get a place for you guys?”

I exclaimed nervously, “But he said he would have jobs for us! Lionel has a bookstore he bought.” This had to work out for us.

“Lionel told you that?” She took a drag from her cigarette, exhaled, and leaned into her seat.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry, but there is no bookstore. I’m kicking him out because he’s a lay-a-bout that never paid any rent around here.” She belted a few more laughs, “How in the hell could he buy a bookstore?” Her laughter hit me right in the chest, right where my hopes resided. I couldn’t believe it. There was no bookstore, and there was no place.

I looked at Scott, who looked angry, perhaps feeling played by Lionel, and then I looked at my cake. I was hoping to try a delicious, spongy dessert, but instead I had tasted a dose of reality. I suddenly lost my appetite.

After her bout of laughter, Lionel’s mom said, “Listen you two, I don’t know what he told you guys, but he is going house hunting today. You might find a place during this hunt, but I’m telling you: there is no house, and there is no bookstore.”

Lionel’s gelled and slicked head popped up from the entryway behind his mom. “Hey guys! What’s shaking?” His smile genuine, and completely unaware of what we learned.

“Lionel, glad you could make it,” Scott was pretty upset. “I was hoping you would show up.” Scott stood up and curled his hands into fists.

“You told them that you bought a bookstore?” His mom turned to look at him.

Lionel stammered, “Well, it-it’s in the works. I know a guy that -”

“Honey, I don’t care about that. These boys need a place to stay, and you lied about a store? I suggest you get looking for a place and get out of here!” Lionel’s mom had no patience for him. Our welcome had walked out the door.

After we all left the house, Lionel looked at us both. “I guess it’s time for an adventure?”

Scott, who had been holding on to his anger and resentment, suddenly had a glimmer in his eye. “Yes, let’s make something out of this!”

“What?” I said, turning to Scott in shock.

“Come on! We can hang out at motels, meet people, maybe stay at their places till we move in. Let’s make something out of this!” Scott looked to Lionel for support.

Lionel nodded his head in agreement. “Let’s do it. It won’t be so bad. We can stay at my girlfriend’s place for tonight.”

Without much of a fight, I agreed. I figured this would be a one-week thing, but little did I know that we would be on the street for a long time.

I also didn’t realize that chocolate cake was my last opportunity at a good meal.

Go figure.