Yesterday, a welcome return to the backyard of Krissie, Mercedes and Sophi. Sophi turned 25, and we gathered to celebrate. Lights twinkled everywhere, a subtle glow lighting the dining area, a 1950s chrome and Formica table laid with lentil and golden beet salad, goat cheese tartlets and strawberry shortcake with lemon zest. The melon-peach colored walls created a golden warmth which cast everyone in a festive, moody light.
Blake and I twirled into the glow and kissed hellos, accepting paper cups of prosecco and sampling the hors d’oeuvres. Through the door, down four cement steps, the backyard glowed intermittently. A picnic table set with two subtly elegant single candelabra lit up a group of mid-twenties darked haired fellows, mysterious and brooding types. The yard continued back further into a walled off triangular shape, a dark zone of cinder block and large trees. A bench set with Catholic prayer candles and a fringed tapestry brightened its dreary point and gave the yard an air of expansiveness. Looking to the left, from the top of the stairs, a stark white rectangle painted onto an expanse of black cinder block showed Spirited Away from a projector propped on a sawhorse. A grill and table, manned by joyous Donnie in a mesh tank top and Jams, sat below a slender window to the kitchen above, a spider plant in a macrame holder in view.
Linking arms and twirling more, Blake and I perused where to perch, choosing a friendly gray bench, angled between the table and film screening area.
“I’m SO glad you decided to start carrying joints in your purse, Blake,” I mused, pulling a Parliament out of my 1980s woven leather purse.
“Yeah….” she grinned, flicking open the metal beads of her 1970s burgundy leather clamshell shoulder bag, pulling out a slender, white ‘marijuana cigarette’, one end twisted into microscopy. “I have three left from what I took from my parents.”
“Sweeeeet…” I say, and before I arrive to enunciating the “T” sound, a force slides up right next to me on the bench.
“Sweeeeeeeeettttt,” he echoes, placing an arm over my shoulder and waving a brown tobacco colored cylinder under my nose.
“What’s up, Charli?”
I turn to my right, knowing the voice. “Heyyyyy… Jake….,” I trail, “We were just checking our stash for later,” I toss off with a giggle.
“Hehehe,” he giggles back, flashing a grin.
I vibrate inside. Those charming seductive eyes, reaching my insides. I take a deep breath in, thinking about the wind blowing through my hair and my electric blue lace tank top on the bike ride over, Blake following behind. We had taken a few puffs of a J before compiling our handbags and supplies for the night.
“You girls like to smoke?”
“I do!” I announce, feeling blissed out to the point of abandon, my eyes catching No-Face hovering on the wall to my right.
“All right, cool, Charli, I’m gonna find you later and give you a treat,” Jake winks, and I try to suppress my excitement, thinking about Sophi’s and my conversation…. and her description of Jake as ‘slippery’.
“All right, all right, all right,” I say, wondering if he will catch the slight Wooderson reference.
The celebration continues to swell and glow, flames lighting other flames, tiny embers of activity filling the corners.
Sophi sinks a white handled cake knife expertly, long dark waves crashing over her shoulders and scooped neck dress, as she swiftly hands out plates of golden cake, tumbled with white cream and fresh strawberries. She is surrounded by arms and hands, birthday candle smoke dissipating while table candles and lighters flicker, glasses clinking all around.
I see Krissie break off a perfect bite of cake, whipped cream and strawberry and drop it into her mouth with her thumb and forefinger, backing up into Jake.
“Can I get a bite?” He says, as she turns around in surprise.
“Yes, you certainly can…” she demurs, breaking off another perfect bite, lifting it towards Jake’s soulful pleading eyes and expertly dropping it in his mouth. I watch her slowly caress his mouth as she pulls her hand away. Simultaneously he grabs the curve of her waist and pulls her toward him. They stumble off toward the point.
I turn to head toward my trusty bench.
“Charli?” A presence taps my heart tattoo softly.
My head turns slowly to the left and I see a pair of dark almond eyes and shiny black hair smiling at me. “Otsu? Remember?”
“Yes, of course!”
“Jake wanted me to give you something,” he says, winking as he waves the tobacco brown cylinder under my nose again. “It’s a blueberry blunt!”
We sit on the bench, Otsu and I, taking puffs.
“Coooooolll,” I exhale, coughing, starting to laugh uncontrollably, “Sounds delicious!”
I sit for a moment, focusing on the energy of the yard, taking it in, looking at Spirited Away, thinking of Krissie pulling puppet strings, attempting to place both me and Sophi with Jake and Mercedes with Otsu and now Otsu sidling up to me. I look over to the point of the yard and see furtive movements and hear soft tickle-giggle screams in the candlelight and grass.
‘Who am I to stand in the way of amour?’ I think to myself and walk over to Sophi and Mercedes…. Third dame’s a charm!
deux mille six 