I had been to Mike Walls' house and when I had left, I had carried off a baggie containing about a quarter ounce of brownish marijuana. Unsure why I had taken Walls' marijuana, I decided to return it, but I also decided to keep enough for one joint. I took some of the marijuana out of the baggie, cleaned the stems and seeds from it and put the cleaned marijuana in a pocket on the left side of my tee shirt. I then placed the baggie with the remaining marijuana in the same pocket.
I headed for Walls' house, reached it and walked into the front room where I found Walls (about 35 years old) and Nunley (a former high school schoolmate) sitting. I was surprised to see Nunley there.
Walls' hair was gray and thinning on top; he appeared to be aging prematurely.
Walls and Nunley talked about drugs and I had the feeling Walls and been using various kinds of drugs lately. Nunley apparently had also been using drugs. I recalled having recently had a dream in which Nunley had appeared; I hadn't understood why I had dreamed about him, but I felt as if the dream might have had something to do with drugs. Although I hadn't seen Nunley in many years, I felt as if he might have started using a lot of drugs.
After I pulled out the baggie of marijuana I had in my pocket and laid it on the table, Walls said he had a lot of marijuana which he was selling and he could sell me a half ounce for $5. He mentioned that the dollar I had left for him was still there. I now remembered that when I had taken the baggie of marijuana, I had left a dollar behind for a joint and I had actually intended to bring the rest of the marijuana back just as I was now doing. Walls said that I could have the dollar back and that he would sell me the baggie I had for $5.
I contemplated buying the marijuana, but I really didn't want to because I would have to carry it around, which would bother me because I didn't like to have any marijuana around me. I even began to think I didn't want to smoke the marijuana which I had cleaned and put in my pocket. So I began taking the cleaned marijuana out of my pocket and putting it back into the baggie. When Walls asked me if I had enough for a joint, I told him that I did, but that I had decided I didn't want to smoke it.
I thought I had actually already smoked some of the marijuana, but then I realized I hadn't yet smoked any. Indeed it had been a very long time since I had smoked any marijuana. I knew I had recently had some dreams in which I had smoked marijuana, but the truth was that I hadn't smoked any for a very long time. I didn't know exactly how long it had been since I had smoked any, but I knew it had been well over a year.
I couldn't deny that I was tempted to smoke, but the temptation had dramatically decreased. I was now able to control my will as regarded smoking. I didn't voluntarily want to smoke and I had freed myself from any involuntary desire to smoke. I didn't delve deeply into the metaphysics of smoking; I simply realized I wasn't going to smoke and I returned all the marijuana to Walls.
After Connie (Walls' thin diminutive wife) walked into the room, we began watching a television show about drugs. Some people on the show were being interviewed and some women were talking about how their husbands used to use drugs and how the women had dealt with the problem. One woman was quite ugly and I made a comment about that fact. One woman being interviewed was the wife of my old Portsmouth buddy,
Phil Lane. She said that Lane didn't like to party and that she had begun to wonder where he was going when he went places. I, however, recalled that the only thing Lane had liked to do was party.When I finally stood and walked outside, Connie and Walls accompanied me. They were going somewhere, so we walked along together. Connie mentioned that Lane had been in the house while I had been inside, although I hadn't noticed him. I spoke with them about drugs and what drugs could do to a person. Walls was aware he had a problem with drugs, but Connie was much more aware that she had a problem.
She talked about a type of spirit. I was unsure whether she was referring to someone who had died or something else. She described the spirit as being about the size of a human being; it appeared to be some sort of demon.
Apparently, Connie had been having some contact with the spirit, which had been disturbing her. She told me that one time she had been inside a type of tent which looked like a dome made of white silky cloth. The demon had taken what appeared to be a paint roller (except the roller rolled fire instead of paint) and had started rolling the roller across the top of the tent. The flame from the roller caught strips of the tent on fire as it was rolled across it. I envisioned the rather dramatic scene in my mind.
Walls, Connie, and I immediately began building a cloth dome-tent similar to the one Connie had described. When we had finished constructing the tent, I pulled up a truck loaded with bales of marijuana and we filled the tent with the marijuana. Walls didn't know what I was doing. I then set the tent on fire and we stood off to the side as it burned. I thought by burning the marijuana I was going to be able to combat the evil spirit. I was quite satisfied with what I was doing.
I didn't smell the marijuana as it burned, but suddenly Walls smelled it and said, "Shit, Collier, if I had known you were going to burn those 2,000 kilos of grass ..."
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