Chapter 2: Expectations (c) from "A Stamp to Mail My mind away"

 

  2.

Expectations

 

 

 

He thought, “I thought that things would be different. I earned my Associates degree from Gulf Coast Community College. Muliti temps was hiring my friends to do substitute teaching. Surely, they would hire me. I had been working with Multi-temps to do manual labor. Surely they would hire me to be a substitute teacher.”

 

He’d go over to his friend, Lil D., house. Lil D. had a great spread. It was a private extension of his parent’s house. It was walking distance from the beach, and Walgreens. “In walking distance to get new needles.” His parents lived down-stairs.  Down-stairs there was a kitchen, sunroom, dining room, den, laundry room, and three bedrooms. D’s father made a fortune building houses along the bayou. Word spread fast to all his parent’s friends, and friends of friends. Many days his parents would hold big parties-that’s where his father would sell ‘A piece of the good life’ to them.

 

Upstairs, D had a huge bedroom, a game room, a walk-in shower, an outside jacuzzi and a huge porch/patio. He had an outside spiral staircase, in the back, so that it made it so Lil D’s friends and acquaintances would come and go as they wanted without being scrutinized.

 

He felt obliged to be in D’s company. They all grew up together. He remembered when Lil D. moved to the neighborhood. Carlton’s parent’s house was across the street from his parent’s house. He remembered when they were all about ten years old, they all got pretty wasted from D. bringing some beer that his parents wouldn’t notice was gone. Of course, they also got into his parent’s scotch. His parents didn’t notice either.

 

Carlton had the weed. He brought his drummer, Jaremy, to D’s house. “You sure you want to hit this? I mean you’re about to work for the man,” Carlton said as Jeremy rolled the first joint. “Naw man, I got a full month before I go to basic. I scored high enough on the ASVAB that all the armed forces are begging me. And it’s not like the real army, it’s just The National Guard. They’re giving me a five thousand dollars sign on bonus.” While we passed the joint around, Jeremy continued talking about his great plans for the future. Carlton was talking about all the cool things he was going to do at college in Oxford. D was talking about all the experiences he had while teaching through Multi-temps. He also planned on returning to Oxford to party. And once again, he felt out of place, thinking to himself, “I’m reminded of my place in this world.” Maybe he could get high enough to imagine, being on their level. He knew they loved him, regardless of his station in life. He was the special education student. He was the kid who scored fourteen on the ACT. He did love being in the cool crowd, even if it was by association. “Who would think I had value?” He did have one thing to contribute to the festivities. That was his musical composer machine and a four track. 

“I can write kewl stuff, poetry, songs, and stories.” He only had the gumption to share when he was high and drunk. “I went to Multi-temps, they never offered me teacher substitution job. All they ever offered me was to clean the Coast Coliseum and doing janitorial work.”