I hoped he hadn’t meant peeing because eventually you’d just blow up.
Yellow handed Dennis a piece of paper with her phone number on it. “Enjoy the show,” she told him as she gently stroked his face and went twirling away into the crowd.
“Who the hell is that?” he asked me, handing me a beer.
I picked up the napkin that he had dropped. Her name and phone number were on it. I think her name was Susan, but I won’t attest to that. I stuck the piece of paper in Dennis’ rear pant pocket.
“Paul?” he asked, sipping his beer.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Did you get the beer Nazi?”
“No ID, no beer!” he said, smiling.
It was another few, maybe ten minutes and the lights dimmed down, the third set was starting.
“DUDE!” I heard from behind me.
It honestly took me a few moments for my reeling brain to put the image before me and match it up with Paul’s.
“BUDDY! Where the hell have you been?” I responded.
“I’m not really sure. I remember going to the bathroom with you and when I came out, I couldn’t find you. Then I realized I was starving, so I went over and got some beef teriyaki.”
“They have beef teriyaki?” Dennis asked as he turned to join the conversation. “Paulie! Hey buddy!”
“So I ate, and then I was thirsty as hell. I went and tried to get some beer, but I didn’t bring any ID.”
Dennis and I gave knowing glances to each other and started laughing.
I was floating around trying to get some brew and I ran into this guy that had brought a cooler in and was selling them for like two bucks a piece.”
“Two bucks? Damn!”
“So I bought like a six-pack.”
I looked down into his hands, bummed that I didn’t see any of them hanging there by the plastic holder.
“By the time I got the beer, I was all turned around and I had no idea which way to go. So I started playing Frisbee with this group and then I might have done some hula hooping. I was thinking that maybe I’d remember where we were by then.”
“Didn’t work so much?” I asked.
“No, so when the music started, I hopped on someone’s blanket and drank and danced.”
“So how’d you find us?” Dennis asked, still looking at Paul’s hands like beer might magically appear. That night it might have actually happened.
“I saw the girl in the yellow sundress and I seem to remember her being around us.”
“You saw Dennis’ wife!”
“What?” they asked in unison.
“Long story!” I yelled, wanting to get back into the groove of the music.
The music was playing again, my buds were back, I placed my arms over both their shoulders and we enjoyed the remainder of the show. I would have bet money that Dennis was the most effed-up one of us all, but I kept repeating over and over at how amazed I was that he knew the way home.
Nothing we passed looked even vaguely familiar to me. Other revelers walked around us, our footfalls echoing on the tree lined roadways as we trekked our way home. I caught snippets of meaningless conversations… “Jenny wasn’t even seeing him….”
“Which way to the universe?” (I could relate) “Is that a barracuda?” Even I couldn’t piece that one together.
A few homeowners turned their lights on to make sure no one decided to make their front lawns a resting spot. I saw more men and women openly pissing in the street than I will ever care to admit. I might have seen a couple having sex, or it was a lawnmower--I can’t be sure. More than once, Paul’s hand would reach out and prevent me from toppling over as I tried to scale the massive curb when the occasional car ventured forth.
Now I’m not so dramatic that I felt I was Bilbo Baggins on a quest for the ring that ruled them all, but by the time we got to our condo, I felt like it. Relief flooded through me as I took in my now favorite, intensely red couch and butcher block kitchen table.
“MEAT!” Dennis shouted, heading for the fridge. He started slapping packet after packet of various deli delight-ables on the counter top. Dagwood had nothing on us after we piled different animals onto our Kaiser rolls. It wasn’t twenty minutes later that I found myself deep in the throes of a food coma. Somehow, I had passed out and slept on the table. The next morning did not bode well for my back as I cantilevered off. Sometime during the night, my head had been cleaved in two. I could not focus on anything. I felt threadbare, like I had wrung my soul through a cheese grater. My cohorts weren’t in much better shape, although Dennis got to sleep his happy-ass in the back seat the entire seven-hour ride back home.
Paul was up intermittently to keep me company, but he just couldn’t stave off the effects of the night before and none of us was having anything to do with his secret elixir. Paul said that he didn’t even think that he could handle the smell of the ingredients anyway.
I relate this story because although it happened nearly eight years ago, it was truly one of the last times that the three of us as best friends, that had shared so many life experiences, journeys, quests and adventures got together. Dennis, just two years later, would die from a series of strokes and heart attacks. Unbeknownst to us, he had been diagnosed with type two diabetes. I guess he figured that if he ignored it, the disease would go away. It didn’t.
And like so many friendships as we grow older, there just isn’t the time available to devote to them. This Telluride trip would be, for the most part, mine and Paul’s swan song. Sure, we saw each other a few times over the remaining years, most notably Dennis’ funeral, but nothing like the days of yore. I don’t want to count our days of running from zombies. That is not a chapter I wish to include in our long and storied past. I will miss you, Paul, those days we played football, our experimentation with beer, and bongs. Our voyages to Indian Hill, to our college days and beyond. You were the best friend, damn near brother, that any man could ask for in life. I feel honored and privileged to have known you. A piece of my heart will always be missing with your passing. Rest in Peace, Paul 1966-2011.
So ends Journal Number Five. I did not get as much accomplished as I had hoped, yet I paid dearly for it. The world yet spins, but it has become a measurably darker place. Eliza stands on the threshold of victory and I fear that nothing stands in her path to stop her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“My cat’s paws are always cold, I’ve believe it’s due to her walking upon the souls of the dead.” Book of Talbotisms #76