N10 GANGLIA AND DEMOND

I. CASTING AN ENSEMBLE

Leaving tweakers is always a good thing. In Anderson County, everybody seems to be on something. I have began an arrangement in which I go to the apartment of an acquaintance to shower every day. I do not care to move in because I do not wish to get mixed up with anything unseemly. Avoiding drama is an all-consuming task that holds my determination.

Demond is eighteen years old, a high school drop-out, a fast food manager trainee, and he might be a burgeoning sociopath. He recently moved in with Ganglia. Ganglia is a thirty year old single mom that works the kitchen. Demond is her boss and they both work the late shift. 

The arrangement began well and it lasted about two weeks. I spent the night there three times and two were with permission. The last time was a few nights ago and everyone’s attitude seemed to be a tired indifference. It was all coming apart. 

I should not be surprised. Shortly after we began hanging out together, I was privy to view the angry ghetto chick that dwells just beneath Ganglia’s skin. It does not take much to bring out the ghetto chick. A neighbor had said something and Ganglia began screaming at her across the way. I kept trying to walk her son away while this was going on. There is no reason for him to watch his Mum make an ass of herself.

II. THE SPEED OF INCREASING POPULATION

Chuck and Linus were her two friends that moved in shortly after the arrangement began. Chuck was waiting on a job transfer and he had a friend named DK that was a dad within a family of four of which included a wife, a young son, and an infant daughter. They also moved in and this was now six additional people along with her, her pre-teen son, and Demond. I remain as a floater. The difference between truth and fiction is what does not slip through the lips. This is a waiting game of delayed motion and decisive acts. Everyone’s story will surface soon enough and the world still turns. 

Somewhere at the first of this emerging melee, Demond decides to do meth with Chuck, Linus, and her young son rides through this orbit. Bay Leaf tells me some story about him explaining to Ganglia’s son about why he is doing meth. Bay Leaf could be an idiot because the boy probably would have lived without the meth information. The kid always seems to walk in on someone doing something. 

III. HOW DAYS PASS

The density of pot smoke has ingrained itself as the room’s scent. My suspicions have been fulfilled and this was another reason for maintaining distance. I do not care to be around weed, its smell, high, and the trouble that accompanies it. Everything has been primed to determine who will be the first person to flake out. More weed goes through the house. I have wondered how much second hand smoke these kids inhale. 

I have learned to stay up for days at a time because I have to. I think my record has been four days. Naturally I nod off during those four days but this does not count as sleep because of the nature of short durations in public places. I just do not want the herb or anything else in my system. 

Apparently, CPS is a looming presence in Intangible’s life as well as the family of four. Ganglia and all else do not consider pot to be a drug because it is ‘safe,’ natural, and grown in the earth. Hemlock, poison ivy, and opium also come from the earth. Why is opium considered a drug, hemlock a poison, and poison ivy as a thing to be avoided? Stoner logic is one of mental gymnastics in slow motion. 

Last Thursday, everyone was gone from the apartment all day. Usually there are clusters of people sleeping. I can understand Ganglia, Demond, and one of the two friends sleeping. I am assuming that everyone else joins in to make it a communal event. When I return home, the family is gone. I heard some reason for sketchy vibes. I thought that I was the only one that thought that things were getting sketchy.   

Everyone seems to join Ganglia and Demond when they work at night. That is the dining hour. This all becomes repetitive and boring until a flare of near excitement occurs at the end and that is where we shall venture to. 

IV. ANOTHER FALL INTO PIECES

A night or two before this, Demond and Ganglia argued at work. Later on, he sent his girlfriend home. That would not seem to sit well. Later on, one of the two friends was also sent home. Ganglia was beside herself. She wanted cigarettes and then she asked to borrow twenty bucks. The friend told her no because he did not have it. She left. I wonder if she relapsed. According to her, she has been off her medication. 

Ganglia has been acting strange, all passive-aggressive and avoiding me. The following day, he works all night and quits the next morning. That night, he and her son get pulled over by the law driving her car. Her son is not in a seat belt and Demond has warrants. He goes to jail and the cops call CPS. More drama. Everyone sleeps the next day. Demond never stops bitching, she is losing it. I get up and clean the place up. If CPS came, she would be busted. The place reeks of weed. Prescription bottles are on the top of the refrigerator. Weed and paraphernalia accompany all of this. Seeds are on the table. Dishes are dirty. There is a mattress propped against the wall. The upstairs smells. The list goes on. I do not know why I clean the downstairs. I am thinking to help her out because she is this single Mum chick...wait...

She claims that she is bi-polar and I believe her. Her moods and reasoning drastically shift. She wanted to fight the neighbor a few days ago. Ghetto chicks abound her and she has membership: all crass and tacky. She is always bitching. Her normal voice to her son is bitchy. I have yet to see any affection or adoration. I feel for the child. He craves attention and guidance. He seems to always jump through hoops to please her and what pleases her is his absence. 

V. HER FOND PERSONA

She is all haughty now. I came by earlier to grab some things from the back porch. The smell of weed hit me at twenty paces. I was surprised to see a light on. The boy was supposed to be in Tyler with her sister. Instead, the other friend was smoking out and babysitting her son and nephew. This is unbelievable. I return later to get cleaned up. She sends the friend down and I agree to putting it off till ten a.m. Ten a.m. comes and she has changed her mind about that and the storage unit. I somewhat expected habitual lying to be part of her nature. Whatever.

It is hot. I leave. I ask an acquaintance if I could put some things in his truck. He agrees. I get the stuff out there and I do not see him. I find him and he changes his mind. I told him that I do not mind him going through things because I get the notion of people using others to harbor stolen goods. I just want to place some clothes and computers in a safe place. It does not matter. I stash everything and then I go into the laundromat and sit in a daze for about an hour. I am sure that I will be ripped off by the end of the day. 

Somehow or another, I became persona non grata. There is no logic behind it and I am writing the matter off to her requiring a scapegoat. Someone has to take the heat for this ongoing hilarity. Ganglia can not accept her accepts and I would guess that she might have a lot of narcissist tendencies. None of the guys can look me in the eye, nor do they have anything to do with me. That is the look of manipulation downcast eyes mean that they know that they are doing wrong. If I receive the blame, then she gets to keep the perfect side of herself.   

This would be a tale with no end. It would just fade into the woodwork texture of imitation vinyl. It will not be long until they screw themselves. Poor kid, drugs use losers.

GANGLIA AND DEMOND   +   NATIVES 10   +   LEAGUE OF DREAD

by El-Pooh!