Chapter 1, Part 1: The Awakening

A Sunday morning in November, 1996

Have you ever woken up in the morning with a thought ensconced in your mind? Like, "who the hell uses the word 'ensconced' in casual conversation?" or "why won't my eyes open?"

My eyes won't open. I'm not sure why. All I know is that my eyelids are sore, and that I don't care too much about that one way or the other, which worries me.

In retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have had those mushrooms last night. I can't be too hard on myself. Ron squished the stuff into a brownie, like a sandwich. A brownie. That shit was delicious.

After that, I went home to chill for a bit, and watch some TV. Ron had to work, and I wasn't going to hang around the gas station for three hours, waiting for the shrooms to kick in before heading out to a party in the city.

So, I laid on my bed, watching the teevee. At some point, the movements of my hand became really interesting to me, intensely meaningful. I was in a really good mood the rest of the night. If I had to put a name to the feeling, I would use confidence. Poison confidence was flowing through me. Later on, I walked into that party like I owned the place, went downstairs and sat next Danielle.

Not only could I make eye contact with her, but I was making her laugh! She has a great laugh too, like stepping into a warm bath out of a cold room. I know that sounds like beer goggles or whatever, but I swear that last night I was more myself than I have ever been. I wish I could be that guy all the time.

My eyes still won't open. Ok, fuck this. It is just a matter of will. There we go. For the love god, I can't get them past half-way open. I can imagine the reaction. What did you do last night son? No drugs, mom, you can be sure of that.

***
I walk upstairs, and into the kitchen. My dad's there.

-It's three o'clock in the afternoon, Greg.

-I know dad.

-When did you get in last night?

-I don't know.

-I raked the yard while you were sleeping.

-Sorry, dad.

I almost did the cartoon-villain shifty-eyes, but then thought better of it. He seems inclined to let me off the hook for my dopey eyes. No need to antagonize the old man.

Ah, crap. The table is setup in the living room, along with a table cloth and candles. We're having guests tonight. This should go well.