* * *
4:20
* * *
you're looking down again / and then you looked me over / we're laying down again / on a blanket in the clover / the same boy you've always known / well i guess i haven't grown // same boy you've always known //
* * *
* * *
After two weeks, we're suddenly a family.
Given that it's year fourteen, it falls to Floor One to make a new claim for leadership. Seeing as Floor One's leader is Phoebe, she's back in the saddle again but infinitely more easygoing. We have a steady rotation of scouts in the city around us, plus a full compliment of sentries around the tower walls, but most of the effort is put into repairing our way of life. With Martha wanting more work on cars, I opted to get our greenhouse working again and headed to the basements.
In my Fortress of Underground Solitude I'm keenly unaware of the social goings-on around, but I observe a lot through my floor. The boys are integrating, perfectly.
Josh has developed a keen instinct for keeping Lisa satisfied as she either regains her health or gets worse – we really can't tell – and Phoebe was kind enough to assign him as Lisa's personal Nurse until she's up and about again. He makes sure she's well-fed, clean, entertained and anything else he can set his mind to. Justin, strangely enough, quietly goes about his menial duties as a scout and guard without complaining. Much like Cypress, he's strangely serious about it all, but enjoys it nonetheless.
I'm staring at him over one of Cypress's old
National Geographic
s right now – I like the pictures. Or that's my explanation – I'm staring at Justin, who is eating a breadstick.
What right does
he
have to be so cheery?
"So you're down in the Growhouse now," he says suddenly – I purposefully look up from my magazine.
"Why?" is all I can think to ask.
"Maybe… Phoebe thought it was best?"
"No, I mean why do you ask?"
"Nothin', just… I hear you guys were all into growin' pot." I cock the brow over my eye.
"Uh-huh?"
"Well, it's been like, a long time, and I could…" he pauses, like he's not sure if he should proceed, but adds, "I could sure go for a good hoot."
My cocky eyebrow has settled – what?
"I thought you guys never smoked pot."
"Well, you see magazines, you find it, you try it – whatever."
"How many of you?"
"Smoke?"
"Yeah."
"Three that I know of, self included."
A broad smile spreads across my face, and I point a finger.
"You're totally a chronic, aren't you?"
"What's chronic?"
"Gram a day."
"Well, yeah."
"Fuck – let's go smoke a bowl." I thumb over my shoulder towards the stairwell and he nods, munching on the breadstick as we go.
He needed a redeeming quality.
We share that bowl, and many more as the days start to swing by. Phoebe's impressed with my work, and when Reiko from Floor six applied for my post as an Alpha, Phoebe shot her down and let me pick a new assistant instead. Reiko was assigned to the courtyard garden.
For first few weeks she came down here every few days, borrowing this or that, all the while making snitty comments about my fledgeling crop. Reiko all tall and perfectly-proportioned and cute with her almond eyes and full lips and the only thing that gets that bitch out of my mind wears a worn-out baseball cap.
Today, he comes up behind me as I lean my jaw on my knuckles, staring at a little budlet that's seen fit to pop up.
My vision goes black, and I bat Justin's hand away, not looking from my tiny plant.
"Stop doing that," I tell him.
"This place looks so much better."
"Well, they fucked up the lights pretty bad, I had to do some running around to replace 'em."
"What's that?"
He's looking over my shoulder, I can tell.
"It's my plant."
"What kind?"
"Tobacco."
"Wacky tabacky?"
"The wackiest." I finally turn to him, and smile as he presents me with a plate of food. Good food, too – the kitchen's been running for ten days, now.
"This is all you guys grow?"
"We keep the veggies one floor down," I tell him through my food. "I'll get to that in a couple of weeks."
"So, I'm doin' my circuit, right?"
I know this voice – this is 'Justin's-got-something-he-thinks-is-important' voice, and I roll my eye as I eat.
"And guess what trots right up to me, not growlin' or nothin?"
"What?"
"A big fuckin' black wolf."
"Fuck off."
"Phoebe's got it upstairs – it's friendly as all Hell, too. We think it's Cypress's."
"This I gotta' see," I put my plate down.
"What, right now?"
I pause. Should we…?
"Alright, one bowl," I nod.
"Atta girl."
* * *
Stoned out of our minds, my toque and his baseball cap pulled down low over our eyes, we wander, giggling, upstairs.
Justin's great being stoned with – I
do
get the vibe, but everyone else probably does too, he's so Goddamn friendly. Point is, he makes you laugh a lot. It takes us a while to get out to the courtyard, and when we do a circle's already formed around Phoebe and the wolf.
It's weird, even though she sold us out to the old ones, everyone's had a renewned faith in Phoebe. She seems to be making all the right calls, though I personally don't buy it.
She's sitting in front of the wolf, stroking it's head. As soon as I step into view the beast jumps to her feet and trots over to me.
"Hi Douglas," I say politely. The wolf isn't as scary as Crow made it out to be.
"How did you know his name?"
"Her name – Crow told me."
Phoebe shakes her head and stands.
"I thought you knew what to do when and if this dog showed up," she says.
"He just told us to wait for the wolf," Justin recites, kneeling to the shaggy beast. "Now what?
Woof
."
Douglas is not amused. She looks up at me, puzzled as she pants.
Now she looks questioningly, asking 'w
hy did you leave them?'
"It's not like she tried to get me to follow her or anything," Justin shrugs.
"But still, he sent her up here," Martha says. "That means they're alive."
"That means
he's
alive. Michelle and Richard could be dead," Justin says.
"And the others."
"We're a decent size already – sixty can hold its own."
"That's not the point-"
"Sophie – what does the dog want?" Phoebe snaps at me.
Pressure.
I look at Douglas, and she pants up at me in the hot sun.
"The dog wants water."
* * *
Douglas seems to like me. I say this because she won't go away, not that she's offered deeper insight into Cypress's situation. The Alphas are meeting right now up in Fourteen with Phoebe to discuss a broader plan. Do we stay and wait for Cypress? Do we continue the River plan? Does Justin
like
me? Like,
like
me like me?
"Who are you talking to?" Anze pops an eyebrow at me.
"What?"
I just noticed her. She's carrying two five-pound bags of weed. Her hair, once a brilliant green is a pale, pale off-white. I'd never noticed how white it was before – but her natural color is closer to silver than blond.
For some reason, it makes her eyes greener.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asks, stepping back.
"I'm not." I pull my toque down.
"You're totally stoned."
"I'm the official Tower Potgrower, d'think I'm a nun?"
Her jaw drops and she shrieks, "You fucked Justin!"
My jaw drops and I shout, "
What?
I'm
stoned! Who
fucked Justin?"
"You."
"Since when? I hope it was good."
I find a smoke – it's real good. Smokes are always better when you're stoned.
"Well
did
you?"
"I just said, no. He's not
sayin'
that, is he?"
And now she blushes a deep pink as she says;
