Category: Stories

At Anya’s place the other night I met this guy named Homer. We went out to the balcony to smoke and Anya brought us her grandfather’s lighter which he’d got while serving in Vietnam.

“It always works and when my grandpa took it he said it was still lit in the American’s hand.”

“A fine tale!” barked Homer, though I wasn’t so sure.

The two of us got to smoking and talking.

“So, how do you know Anya?” I asked.

“She is the sister of Jae. I work with Jae’s boyfriend Conner, who plays basketball. Twenty years ago, I played in a very fine basketball game with Conner. I had with me my five friends: Jasper, a center who stood 10 cubits high and wore Jordan’s sewn in America not in a sweatshop; Carol, Jasper’s cousin, was my starting forward. He was 10 cubits high as well and wore four shooting sleeves, two on each arm. From Florida came Reggie, he towered over men at 12 cubits tall and had taken a vow to only shoot from beyond half court. Achilles, the finest point guard in the land; he could have gone pro but there were health concerns. Finally, steadfast Harold, only three cubits high but with the jump of a lion. Each brought with him ten good friends who could be trusted to take his place should he fall.”

A simple “I don’t, really.” would have sufficed.

But Homer was merely pausing to take a drink of his beer which had dripped from his beard as he began again. “Conner played the point guard and there was none finer. His moves penetrated the paint. It was said that he had been to Tracy McGrady’s summer camp as a child and that he had crossed over T-Mac. Tracy became wonderfully wroth and dunked on Conner, but anon his blood was sated and he declared that Conner was a true point guard and worthy of his shoes, and he did give Conner his shoes. But Conner, having love and respect for T-Mac said “I shall not wear these shoes for there are none worthy, not even I”, and instead he tied them together and wore them across his neck as if it were a power line. From that day on, Conner was barefoot whenever he stepped onto the blacktop but kept T-Mac’s shoes draped about him at all times as a talisman. His shooting guard was a man named Glenn who stood 9 cubits high and feared nothing. Al was their power forward it was said that he had never missed a shot in his entire life and that he now traveled the land trying to miss, for it was a curse. At small forward they had LeBron-“

“Wait,” I interjected no longer able to contain myself. “You did not play against LeBron James, that’s cap.”

Homer annoyed by my impudence gave me a stern glare before he continued.

“Nay, it was a different LeBron though some say he was more skilled. The center of Conner’s team was a man named Devon, Devon came from New York and his father was named Creedence, who was a plumber and Creedence had once dated a woman named Gloria, wonderfully fair, and her father Heston was a dockworker but Heston’s brother, Rick had played for the Pittsburgh Pipers of the ABA and with such a lineage Devon had no choice but to be great. Each man brought with him twenty men should he fall.

And lo, the play was magnificent and each man did many fine moves which echo in the greater Spokane area to this day…” Back in the apartment I could hear people playing two-truths and a lie. “…but with the score tied and Carol needing to get to work the game needed to end on the next point. Conner had the ball at the three point line and Harold was guarding him. Conner moved first left and then, with the aid of T-Mac he moved to his right. Harold, a valiant defender of all that is good and of basketball players, tried to stay with him but his achilles ruptured. But the gods smiled at us and I managed to get the rebound from Conner’s miss. I took the ball down the court and with a sweet spin move, got our revenge on Conner and laid him low. Then I threw it up and Harold flew through the air and dunked the ball, thus ending the game. Having exerted himself to his fullest, he died on the baseline, happy and revered. Then Conner, overjoyed to have such a great game, did tell me that I was the most wonderful dribbler he’d ever seen and that I was now the new and rightful owner of T-Mac’s shoes and that I should wear them well. And so I have.”

He gestured down to a pair of very old and very dirty T-Mac 7s in the Houston rocket colors.

Afraid that provocation would set him off again I merely said, “Uh-huh.” and began scrolling on my phone. Eventually Homer grew bored and said that he would show me a trick with the zippo that a ‘great and learned man’ had once shown him.

“I will run it across my jeans to turn it on.” he said in his usual declarative voice that I had become numb too.

“Be careful, it’s really old.” I sort of mumbled.

Homer pulled the Zippo across his knee to the right which opened the lighter, but the force was too much and it snapped at the hinge.

Anya was understandably upset, but once I told her that Zippo’s have a lifelong warranty on all of their items and they would surely repair this one she calmed down a bit. I had been trying desperately to leave the balcony but Cody stood in the doorway and practically blocked me in. I knew then I had been set up.

“Here, use mine.” Cody said with a smile and he handed me a faded neon pink Bic. “I’ve actually had it since college for some reason. It’s the first lighter I ever smoked weed with.”

“Unmatched quality!” Cried Homer and after a few tries he got the lighter to flick on and began to smoke again.

“Do you see that girl?” He asked, gesturing back inside to one of Jae’s friends from college.

Oh God, where was this going? “Yes.” I said as monotone as I could. I moved towards the bannister and looked over the small forest which backed onto Anya’s apartment. Staring straight at the ground, I tried to discern whether there was anyone on the first floor patio some 16 feet below us that might hear whatever he said next.

“Once, I, being filled with desire messaged her on Tinder for she had several photographs at the beach which showed that she was wonderfully wrought. And we did match and after a meal of pizza and beer, we did lay together for three days and after I met her sister and I was again filled with-”

“Fuck!” I had, intentionally, dropped Cody’s lighter into the bushes below.

Nonplussed, Homer said, “No matter, as I was saying…”

But I cut him off. “No, no that is Cody’s special lighter! I’d better go get it.”

I don’t know why but I began to climb over the bannister. Perhaps I was so eager to leave Homer that I did not think I could stand it if he offered to walk with me and so elected to go a way he would presumably, not follow. Maybe I was so enthralled by his tales that I wanted myself to be in one, or perhaps I was very high. I am not sure if you have ever been to the Oakview Apartments in Spokane, Washington but the balconies are not designed to be climbed on. I hung from the outside of the bannister with my toes still on the concrete of the balcony and surveyed the surrounding edifice desperately looking for my next move. Another interesting feature about the Oakview Apartments is that their bannisters are also not made to hold up someone weighing 195 pounds. Suddenly the metal lurched forward six inches as the welds began to break. Shocked, I let go and plunged the 16 feet to the forest ground below me.

And sure, I broke my coccyx, my left leg, got a concussion and slipped more discs than a sweaty discus thrower at the 4th annual Olive Oil Games, but I was safely on the ground.

As I slipped into blissful unconsciousness I heard Homer distantly say, “This one may be worth writing down.”