CHAPTER 10: FIRST CONTACT, PART 1
Night comes to Ocean Shores and brings an end to the touch of the sun on the beach town, turning the warm day into a far colder night.
This is the time when many people are already home and have been there for some time, concluding the last activities for the day. Perhaps it is a quiet evening alone or with friends or maybe lovers, maybe it is a night just as busy preparing for another day of work coming tomorrow. Whatever the case may be, it is usually the case that the people of Ocean Shores are in their homes, and no longer on the streets.
Usually the case, but not in this instance. Just as these are strange days for Ocean Shores, there are, in turn, stranger things coming to the streets.
[Soundtrack Cue: KMFDM - More 'N' Faster]
Racing down the vacant streets of Ocean Shores, a group of individuals set out into the night. Dressed in high-tech suits provided to them by their employer of millionaire skate park owner Alex Gravity, their outing is not one of simple adolescent fun, but of a specific mission of which they have been employed for.
Their goal is destruction in the purest and simplest form, but a secondary objective for them is to also test out their primary method of transportation. The untrained eye, were it upon them on this night, would perceive that these individuals were simply riding skateboards, perhaps modified in some way to explain their fast speeds...
...but further inspection will indicate that this is not the case. These individuals rode atop skateboards with no wheels, but instead hovered off the ground in defiance of gravity. As popular culture would call them, what these riders coast off into the night on are hoverboards.
Science fiction films and futurists have inspired the concept in the collective consciousness, with many attempts having been made to create such a contraption. Many wished to create it simply to live the fantasies of film and pulp science fiction, and others sought the challenge of a chance to make a new discovery in science...
...but like others who are the ones who actually reach the achievement, the one who approached the goal with the intent of money is the one who actually succeeded. These individuals, after stealing a particular strange technology from a mid-air heist on behalf of their employer, have found the key to gaining that success.
The technology is one that has been imagined as one to let man find another way to simply have fun, but these men have all been chosen to use the technology in a less honest, more selfish way, and one that feeds into an antisocial, perverted idea of 'fun' that they all share.
Though the riders are young and reckless with only primal instincts running them, they know that they have been sent to this town for a reason, on a job, and they make sure they will see that job completed. It is their newest member in which they will achieve their first mission, who is more than familiar with Ocean Shores.
Lars Rodriguez has been a fairly experienced skater for the majority of his life, second always to Otto Rocket in many competitions and challenges. Nonetheless, he is still a force to be reckoned with in any skating competition, and a race down the streets of Ocean Shores is one that he can easily win, and one he now tries to initiate.
He is the group's own tour guide who is familiar with Ocean Shores, but it is his board that he seeks more familiarity with, using this self-imposed challenge to learn.
Pushing the limits of the board as far as he can, he raced faster down the streets of Ocean Shores, seeing how he can keep his balance on the advanced piece of sports equipment. He is impressed at the ability in which he can find balance much easier than any normal board, and how no debris or dirt beneath him slows him down or makes his trip bumpier.
The handling and turns of the board are another aspect that he tests out, deliberately making his turns harder to accomplish by coming up as close to the edge of a turn as possible, and only moving at the last second. He is able to pull off his close calls each time, and so are his teammates, in attempt to catch up with him, but his antics are nonetheless tiring and distracting from their main goal.
Breaking Lars out of his hold of excitement, the group reminded him of the greater task at hand.
"Hey, newbie, glad you're enjoying the ride, and we like a good challenge ourselves every now and then, but we've got a job to do." One rider said.
"Hey, relax. Just trying to see what this baby can do. That's half our job too, right?" Lars asked.
"It's the lesser half, not the better. You said you know where this electronics place is the boss wants us to hit, where is it?" Another rider asked.
"Right this way, boys. You can't miss it, and neither would I."
[Soundtrack Cue End]
[Soundtrack Cue: Hed(pe) - Get Away]
Concurrent to the journey of the rogue skaters is another unexpected soul to be on the streets of Ocean Shores, this one forced out from a house where he would have been welcome and alone to skate to his own home. The ride of a skate is always enough to lift the spirits of Otto Rocket, but, even after attempting to vent out his frustrations in a productive way, the limits and exceptions of this outlet have been found.
After trying to perform several kickflips that would have normally been no challenge for the seasoned skater, too many falls to the ground proved that he was far too upset about his own actions and the actions of his father to focus on anything, and his failures only fueled the anger and frustration he felt.
Deciding to stop skating, Otto no longer decided to walk off his troubles, but instead broke his board in half and angrily threw it against the wall of an alleyway, pacing back and forth in place. He knows the consequences from his immediate action has cost him money he does not have for a new board that he needs for his sole source of income, and it once again fuels his anger.
Out of rage and frustration, Otto took an empty 40 ounce bottle off the ground and smashed it against the wall as well, hoping that more destruction would aide in his healing. Still not satisfied with breaking the glass, Otto continued to take several pieces of garbage off of the ground and throw them at the wall, trying to vent his frustrations out.
Like all self-destructive violence, it does not solve any problems, making the only damage done internal and increasing what harm has been done.
With nothing physical left to destroy in his immediate vicinity, he departed from the alleyway in search of a way home, or at least somewhere that he can stop thinking over his woes. The anger in his heart not only began to blind his judgment and thoughts, but now also his vision itself, leaving him so frustrated to a point where keeping his eyes open and not clenched shut in rage was a challenge.
In the few flashes of sight that came back to him, he took notice of a young man and woman walking down the streets across from him, holding hands and happy laughing with one another. He can tell that the two are happy and in love, sharing a commodity he is severely lacking in.
He has no idea as to what the rare sighting of a young couple is doing in the streets of Ocean Shores with him; perhaps they are tourists sharing a vacation somewhere small and quiet to themselves, maybe they are one of the few locals that still live here, or maybe these two were specifically put here in this moment in time by some cruel deity to remind Otto of what he does not have.
In an enraged state of delusion that rivaled a state of complete drunkenness, Otto lashed out to the two, lunging at them in an unfocused attack. His attack is not something coordinated enough to cause any harm or pain, what attempt of an attack he makes resembling something like a hungry beast lashing out at prey, but with the beast too starved and weak to catch it.
And just as a clever and strong prey would do to defend itself, the two pushed Otto off, letting him fall to the ground. He made no immediate attempt to get up and retaliate afterwards, still far too unfocused and angry to comprehend even where he was at the present moment in time.
His position is one that clearly signaled a man needing help, and there is a short contemplation from the couple to offer help, but his previous attempt of an attack is a memory recent enough to make them drop the suggestion. Instead, the two left him behind in response, with no sight of a good Samaritan in sight for Otto.
Otto is eventually able to get himself up, and get on his feet again to start walking back home. He no longer remembers where home is at this moment in time, nor does he even care to wonder if he is going in the right direction; his goal now is to walk and solely to walk, hoping he moves far enough away from his troubles to find peace.
Needing to calm himself down, Otto sat down on the ground, leaning against the nearest wall he reached. After his walk turned to an unintentional meditation, his aggression soon turned to fatigue and sadness, leading him to stop making any more attempts to move his limbs or body.
His total eclipse of bodily functions locks his mind in a state of isolation, turning all of its energy in towards itself. Otto began to sadly contemplate his life and what choices has led him to this moment, lacking the understanding in how he managed to make the choices he did and reach where he is now. Still are his emotions overwhelming enough to make him forget everything else, and continue to shut down.
Soon, his eyes close and he falls asleep, turning to unconsciousness to let his body heal the wounds of unconsciousness.
[Soundtrack Cue End]
Unbeknownst to him, the resting place has chosen is the electronics outlet and repair shop known as Squid's Electronics, which has closed its doors for business but a few minutes ago, and its owner having departed to keep up with a prior appointment. Otto was meant to be a part of said appointment, but his current state is what keeps him from making the meeting.
But as this location is now the interest of the rogue skaters, he has now set himself up for an appointment with other players in the larger game.
At the humble and humiliated abode of Otto and Twister, the latter continued to sit at his laptop, the house's one and only connection with the world wide web. Just as he has done for the past few days, he continues to hit the 'refresh' button of the machine while viewing one of their skating videos.
He has been at the task for a long time, and, with the day now coming to an end, he has decided to check what income increase has occurred from his efforts. Clicking on the creator's tab of options for NewTube, he scrolled to 'monetization' and clicked it, bringing up on display what their channel has earned.
When he sees the numerical amount, he is disappointed to see that all his efforts have gained him is...
"A dollar? Really? All that button-pressing for just a dollar? We need to get more computers." Twister thought aloud.
Money may be on his mind, but also on it is the meetup he has planned with Otto to have a cannabis smoke-session with him and the newly-invited Sam, awaited both the co-resident of the house and their guest to arrive. Looking at the screen in disappointment, he turned to further impatience over Otto and Sam, the monetary situation which was on his hands adding to his anxiety.
A ring on the doorbell is heard while he is in his own thoughts, relieving that anxiety with the arrival of at least one of the two. Getting up from his chair (the chair for the computer desk itself being a cheap lawn chair, the two either unable to afford or not bothering to buy a proper desk chair), he stepped to the door and opened it, revealing the arrival to be Sam.
"Oh, hey, Squid, you made it!" Twister said.
"Yeah, hey, Twister, good to see you." Sam said.
Stepping inside the house, Sam immediately clenched his nose at his immediate entry, feeling an olfactory assault the likes of which he has never smelt before.
"Oh, Jesus, what the hell is that smell?" Sam groaned.
Twister then sniffed in the air, attempting to discern which specific smells that Sam sensed.
"Uh... I think that's our Chinese leftovers from last week... Some puked-up Chinese leftovers from when we were drinking too much... Otto's sweaty jersey... Oh, yeah, and my cum. Don't worry, I know for sure my tissues went in the trash." Twister answered.
"Ugh. For fuck's sake, dude. This place is even worse than the last time I came here. Have you guys never heard of spring cleaning?" Sam asked.
"Actually, we have memory-foam mattresses. The spring ones kept getting bedbugs."
"That's not what I- Wait, bedbugs? Twister, those haven't existed since, like, the early 20th century. How dirty is your home that you guys brought back bedbugs? Don't you guys ever take out your trash?"
"Trash collection doesn't come around here anymore."
"And you can't just bag it and take it to the dump yourself?"
"The dump's, like, 15 miles away, we don't have a car, and we don't even have any money for trash bags."
Unable to offer any further advice on the poor financial situation of Otto and Twister, Sam dropped the subject with a shake of his head.
"Is Otto here? I thought we were all gonna smoke tonight." Sam said.
"I thought so, too, but he hasn't gotten back from that dinner party at his dad's. I just hope it's going okay."
"Yeah, me, too. I remember how much they always seemed to be at odds a lot of the time. It's a shame, because, when they weren't fighting, they seemed like the best of friends. Like you'd swear they weren't just father and son."
"I know. I do worry about Otto a lot, man. I care about him a lot. Anyway, never mind that, let's smoke it up, like you came for."
"Shouldn't we wait up for Otto?"
"Nah, it's fine, he'll probably be back any minute. He'd do the same if he were in our shoes, anyway."
"Heh. Yeah, that is true. Maybe it's time we were a little selfish, too."
No longer willing to wait for Otto to arrive back, Twister and Sam sat down on the couch with the former holding a joint in his hand. Lighting the marijuana cigarette one one end, he brought the smoke-session to an official beginning. Looking at the burning paper and herb, Sam began growing anxious about the experience, unsure of how the plant would alter his consciousness.
"So, what exactly is it gonna be like? Am I gonna just go completely numb? I don't think I like the idea of not having any of my motor control-" Sam began to ask.
"Hey, relax, Squid, once you're high, you're not gonna care about any of that. You're just gonna have a good time, and you're gonna feel just fine. You'll be, like, totally at peace, like we said. You know what it's like? It's like a little mini-vacation. Like when you're jerking off to get some tension off, because you don't have anything else to wind down with. Same concept here, except it's a lot stronger, and it's just as natural as well." Twister said.
"...Okay, that's an, uh, interesting comparison to make, but I don't see how inhaling burning plants is 'just as natural' as masturbation."
"Hey, it worked for the Native Americans. Those guys smoked tobacco, which is really not at all good like weed, and they smoked it all the time, and they turned out fine. I mean, then America did the whole Trail of Tears thing, but still. I feel the pain of my brothers."
"What do you mean, 'brothers'? You're Mexican."
"Yeah, we're both the people who were here on this continent first, until the Europeans came and fucked everything up. They got the English, we got the Spanish."
"Oh, okay, I guess that's true."
Disregarding the half-baked and butchered social commentary, Sam took the marijuana joint and sucked in the smoke, attempting to inhale it into his lungs. Upon trying to breathe in the smoke, the heat of the fumes burned at the tissue of his lungs, prompting him to immediately cough it out.
"Oh, fuck... That burns..." Sam coughed.
"No, no, no, you're doing it all wrong, man. You gotta let the smoke sit in your mouth for a minute and let it cool. Then you inhale it." Twister said.
After recovering from the painful coughing fit, Sam then put the joint to his mouth and sucked in another serving of smoke, attempting to try inhaling it again. Taking Twister's instructions of letting the smoke sit in his mouth, he waited until he felt the smoke no longer feel so warm, then took in a deep breath to inhale the smoke.
As soon as it entered his lungs, he exhaled it back out, taking in his first dose of cannabis, rewarded with a hearty pat on his back from Twister.
"That's good, Squid, that's good." Twister said.
"I don't feel anything yet. Is that normal?" Sam asked.
"You won't feel it that quick with that little puff. Especially not a big guy like you. We gotta keep going."
Then, a knock at the door was heard, promptly catching the attention of the duo.
"Oh, finally, Otto's here. Here, keep going and smoke up, I'll be right back." Twister said.
Opening the door to his next guest, Twister did not find the missing Otto, but instead the unexpected Tito Makani, standing at the door with a serious look on his face.
"Oh. Uh, hey, Tito, what, uh, brings you here?" Twister asked.
"I'm here on a peace mission, cuz. Looking for Otto, he here?" Tito said.
"Uh, no, he's not back yet. He didn't come back with you?"
"Nope."
"Then the party...?"
"Went down worse than I thought. They had another fight, and Ray kicked him out of the house."
"What?! Why would Raymundo throw him out?!"
"Well, Otto was starting to act too rambunctious to stay at the party, throwing a lot of 'F' words at all of us."
"You know, Tito, you can just say 'fuck'. We're not kids anymore."
"I don't like to use that word. I don't like using any bad words. You know the Hawaiian language doesn't even have any cuss words in it? None whatsoever. That's because we believe in family and brotherly love, we're that dedicated to it, ain't no room for that kind of words in our culture. Now, you gonna let me in, little cuz, or are you gonna let me stand out here all night?"
"Oh, right, sorry, come on in, Tito. Mi casa es su casa."
"I don't think so, cuz. If this were my 'casa', I'd be taking to the place with a roll full of trash bags and bleach, or, for mercy's sake, maybe a blowtorch to-"
Upon stepping in the house, Tito sniffed in the air, catching wind of a scent he was more than familiar with.
"What's that I smell, cuz?" Tito asked.
"Oh, that's our Chinese leftovers from last week... Some puked-up Chinese leftovers from when we were drinking too much... Otto's sweaty jersey..." Twister began to say.
"No, no, not that. I smell somethin' else."
Tito's nose led him to look at Sam on the couch, watching him attempt to puff away at the joint rolled up and cough in pain once again.
"Hi, Tito." Sam coughed.
"Yeah, we were supposed to have a little smoke session between me, Otto, and Squid, but Otto never showed up, so we just got started without him. The Squid's never smoked before, so now's his time to shine." Twister said.
"Good to see you again, cuz. Looks like you're having a little trouble trying to 'shine'." Tito said.
"Yeah, this stuff... Ugh... really burns. I don't know Otto and Twister do it." Sam said.
Stepping up to Sam, Tito took the marijuana cigarette from his hand, putting is his mouth and taking a puff, much to the surprise of both Twister and Sam. They are amazed not only to see this warm figure from their childhoods engage in an adult activity alongside them as if the event were normal, but also the expert-like manner in which he smoked the joint, inhaling and exhaling as if he were breathing normal air.
Tito has his own reaction to the event as well, but it is one of disappointment upon smoking the joint. Failing to feel any significant impact from the joint whatsoever, he looked down on the cigarette with the scorn usually held by world-class chefs disappointed with an inferior dish.
"Me neither, cuz. I don't know how Otto and Twister do it. This is what you boys will accept for a good smoke? This might as well be tea leaves. This couldn't get a cockroach high." Tito complained.
"Tito, dude, since when did you smoke weed?" Twister asked.
"Oh, long before any of you came around, cuz. In fact, I was telling Otto at the party how Ray and I used to smoke up plenty back in the day, and I would've told him more if he stayed, as well as share a little of this with him."
Reaching into the pocket of his shirt, Tito pulled out a bag of marijuana, showing its contents to the two young adults. Their reactions to the bag are further amazement at the complete and utter destruction of the warm uncle they came to know and love, watching it become replaced with a much more accessible version of that man in an instant of time.
Tito repaid their reactions with a smile of his own, taking an emotion not unlike an uncle who sneaks Christmas presents to a child not allowed by their parents.
"This, cuzes, is Pineapple Express, one of the finest strains money can buy. This will get you higher than the highest mountains in all of Hawaii." Tito said.
Reaching out his hands in attempt to come to reality with an alleged powerful strain of marijuana, Twister gently lowered his hands underneath the bag, taking on an emotion akin to the feeling that the fabled King Arthur felt when taking the legendary Excalibur for the first time.
Sticking his nose into the bag to take a sniff, he took in a deep inhale, smelling an herbal scent stronger than any other strain he had smelt before, all but confirming Tito's exaggerated yet intriguing presentation of the cannabis before any even had a chance to smoke the strain.
"Uncle Tito... You are the savior of the universe." Twister said.
"Well, don't thank me yet, cuz. I'll be more than happy to smoke this with you boys, but we gotta find Otto first. Then, all four of us can sit down and smoke together, and I finally get to do what I've been wanting to do with you since you first grew up." Tito said.
"Aw, no, forget it, Tito. Otto can take care of himself. Let's smoke this without him, c'mon."
Twister tried to reach in the bag for a bud, but Tito withheld his bag before he could do so, sticking to his ultimatum.
"Ah-ah-ah, cuz. I said, we gotta make sure Otto's okay. We bring him back first, then smoke." Tito said.
"C'mon, Tito, Otto does this all the time. He'll go out super-late doing whatever he does, and he comes back eventually in the middle of the night. This is all just part of his routine."
"Yeah, well I don't think having a big fight with his dad and having an angry outburst at all of us is a strict part of his routine, so I wouldn't be so quick to assume he's okay. Ancient Hawaiian saying: 'When the coconut tree has gifted its fruits every year but the present one, then the tree is not in good health'."
As always, Twister does not comprehend what point was attempted to be made in the cryptic koan, making him look back in confusion.
"...Huh?" Twister asked.
"Like I said, cuz, we find Otto and bring him back. Now, quit arguing and get in the car, and let's go look for him." Tito said.
"Look, Tito. You know Otto like I do. If he's mad, then trying to talk him down's not the best approach. He's gonna do what he's gonna do, and we can't do much to stop that. I know for a fact that he's gonna show up here again, so all we gotta do is wait and he'll be back. And while we're waiting, we can have a little smoke. No need to worry ourselves over nothing."
A metaphorical uncle to the brash and free-spirited Otto Rocket, Tito is one of the few people to know him and what actions he takes and what habits he makes, and he is well aware that Twister is correct in pointing out that a search would be nothing short of futile. Concern is what stays in his heart first and foremost for his nephew...
...but he knows better than to let worry create unnecessary stress, and what he currently has is the best panacea for stress.
"Alright, cuz. You win. But you better not just be saying all this just because you can't wait to smoke my weed." Tito said.
"No, no, totally not. Nope, no, no, sir." Twister said.
"Uh-huh."
"No, really. I know Otto's gonna be okay, and I don't want good ganja to go to waste."
"Alright, alright. C'mon and sit down, we'll get started."
Seating himself at the couch between Twister and Sam, Tito began rolling his own joint out of his own marijuana, tightening it and finishing the cigarette. Lighting up one end of the joint as it now began to give off smoke, he handed it to Sam, offering him the first hit of the herb.
"Sam, you're the one we're trying to break in, would you care to start that off?" Tito asked.
"Uh... okay. I was already starting to feel something from the other joint, I don't know how much strong this is gonna be." Sam said.
"Don't worry, dude. Just breathe it in, hold it in as much as you can, and enjoy the ride." Twister said.
Following Twister's instructions once again, Sam inhaled a large portion of the smoke as soon as it cooled, holding the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds' time, a timespan increased with his practice on the other joint, and finally let it out, coughing heavily as he exhaled.
As Sam let the vaporized cannabis out of his lungs, Tito gave a laugh at his heavy reaction and dedication to consume the herb.
"That's it, cuz. You're off to a good start." Tito said.
Tito's assurance of Sam's progress is but one sign that he is well on his way to a great high, but a personal, physical sign is what comes next for him. His mind began to grow woozy and tipsy, bringing the first and most obvious signs that the smoke had been taken into his body.
"H- Hey, Tito, Twister, I feel kind of weird. I think it's about to happen, is this-?" Sam tried to say.
Then, it stopped.
The sensation had now taken full hold of his mind, making him stop short in mid-sentence before he could complete his thought. The thought itself is still in his mind, but there is a feeling so overwhelming that it takes over all ability to act and speak, as if it superseded all other desires and control over his bodily functions.
Then, it snapped back in.
And what Sam does next is laugh.
[Soundtrack Cue: KMFDM - Zip]
Regaining control over his body is perhaps the wrong description of what happens now to Sam, because he cannot currently do anything but expel his new feeling of a high by laughing maniacally and rocking back and forth in his seat. There is nothing else that he can bring himself to do in this moment in time except expel his excitement, continuing to laugh loudly enough to be near a scream.
After getting off the couch, Sam began to furiously pace across the room, continuing his maniacal laugh as he did so. His run made him collide into walls without a care, acting beyond the excitement displayed by a child might give in this situation, even with the proper stimulants of sugar and caffeine to facilitate that attitude.
Never having seen anyone react to marijuana the way Sam did, Twister went into complete shock at what he had witnessed, not knowing what to think of his old friend's seemingly going insane from the marijuana strain. To view someone awkward and reserved like Sam act completely out of character from his normal self, he can do nothing but stare in amazement at what he is going through.
He turned to Tito, hoping to see that he would be just as shocked to confirm that he had the correct response to the situation, but Tito's response was but a smile and a chuckle, appearing to not be impressed with the reaction nor being unfamiliar with it, and taking pride in seeing the power of his herb on full display.
"Uncle Tito... What the hell did you give him?" Twister asked.
"I told you, cuz. Pineapple Express, fresh from Hawaii. My family's been growing it for years, best strain you'll ever smoke." Tito replied.
"I've... I've never seen anybody react like that on weed. Like, ever."
"They ain't never tried Pineapple Express before, cuz. And I've seen it plenty of times, especially overworked white boys like him. That's just a testament to how much the world needs a little more love from Mary Jane."
"Well, then, no arguments here. I'm going next, I need to try this!"
Carefully taking the cigarette from Sam's hands, trying to grab it from his hand as he continued to pace about, Twister put the joint in his mouth and immediately sucked in its smoke, inhaled a large dose of the Pineapple Express. As soon as the smoke had left his lungs with an exhale, he took another inhale, attempting to get as much of the marijuana in his lungs as possible.
A brief period of waiting is how long it takes for the drug to take its effect on him, his past experience of smoking making the process take longer. Soon, he, too, joined Sam in the lunacy, starting laughing uncontrollably as well, but falling to the floor instead of run about like his friend.
While Tito was glad to see the two enjoying his marijuana, a caring figure to the two and their group since the beginning, he still could not help but fell left out from the party, not having a chance to take in his own supply. Walking up to the intoxicated Twister, he took the joint from his hands, looking at the two with amusement over their childish selfishness regarding the plant.
"I guess beauty all came before age in this instance. Oh, well." Tito said.
Taking the joint and smoking it as well, Tito smoked the marijuana cigarette down to the butt, consuming the last of the herb for himself. Having the largest weight of the group and the most experience with cannabis, he is the last one to feel the effects of the strain, and he chose to take to the couch to await the smoke to take effect.
Laying back on the couch, he began to feel all parts of his body relax, leaving him to lean back and let his tensions and stress go. Now, with all of the marijuana smoked and sent into the bloodstreams of the group, the three occupants of the house were left fully intoxicated and under the influence of the herb, and loving every minute of it.
It is a nice beginning to a nice night, but it is certainly missing Otto, a fact which is disregarded by the group in light of his recent actions.
[Soundtrack Cue End]