The Halo Series Boxed Set

by Kimberly Knight

  “God!” I groaned. “You’re so pushy.”

  “Maybe, but I love you, and I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

  “I don’t want to hurt either.” A tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

  “Smoking pot won’t kill you. If so, I would have died in high school.”

  “You used to smoke pot? Geez! I’m like the only one who’s never smoked.”

  He chuckled. “Probably.”

  It was hard for me to find joy in life. How could I enjoy anything while my wife was suffering?

  I worked for a few hours a day while Cheyenne was at a summer program at the community park. She went all day while a counselor played games with them and kept them out of trouble. It was good for Chey to be out of the house and play. It also allowed Brooke to get as much rest as she needed. My mom stopped in a few times to bring us food and check on her, but she didn’t stay long. Brooke was sleeping a lot, and still not eating.

  Everyone knew marijuana was given to patients with cancer and that people used it to get relief from pain, but it had been years since I’d bought an eighth of weed, and not in New York. I had to figure out a plan.

  “How’s B.B. doing?” Avery asked. I didn’t correct him about her initials. B.B. was better than B.C. when it rolled off the tongue.

  I stopped counting the pile of cash on my desk and sighed as I leaned back in the chair. “In a lot of pain, sleeping most of the day, and still not eating.”

  He sat down on the couch near the desk. “That’s understandable given the hell she went through.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Want to hear something funny?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “She’s never smoked pot before.”

  He snorted. “What? Are you serious?”

  “She says it’s not her thing.”

  He thought for a moment. “I guess I can see that, but I thought everyone at least tried it in high school.”

  I shrugged. “Not my wife apparently. Probably has something to do with her having to take care of Bailee.”

  “So you thinkin’ you want to get her some now?”

  I nodded. “Might help her. I just need to figure out how to get some.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “We can ask around here.”

  I chuckled. “You want to interrogate our staff?”

  “Nah. We slip it into conversation.”

  “In what world do we live in where we can bring it up to our staff? It’s not like we live in Colorado where it’s legal.”

  “Well, this is for medical reasons. Can’t she just get a card or something?”

  “She doesn’t even want to do it. You think I can convince her to get a card?”

  “I’ll talk to some people around here.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Discreetly.”

  “All right, let me know. I need to get a vaporizer for her, too.”

  Avery left and I started searching online for vaporizers. Luckily, I could buy anything from a company based out of Seattle that also had two-day shipping.

  After an hour or so, Avery came back into the office. “Who’s the best friend ever?”

  I glanced up, eyebrows raised. “You?”

  “Of course me.” He laughed.

  I looked past him and saw Traver walking into the office behind him. “Easton,” he greeted.

  I leaned back in my chair. “Traver, what’s up?”

  Traver rubbed the back of his neck. “Avery said you needed some … uh … information?”

  My eyes moved to Avery. “I told Traver that if he gives you some certain information, he won’t be fired.”

  I chuckled. “All right. I’m listening.”

  Avery closed the door and clapped Traver on the back as they stood in front of my desk. “Just tell him what you told me. It’s cool.”

  “I can hook you up with my dealer.”

  I cracked a smile. “Your dealer?”

  “Don’t fire me,” Traver blurted.

  “Sit down. I’m not going to fire you.”

  “See?” Avery asked. “It’s all good, man.”

  Avery sat on the couch and I gestured for Traver to take one of the chairs in front of my desk. “Can you get me some and I’ll give you the money?” I didn’t want to associate with a drug dealer.

  “What are you looking for?”

  I shrugged and laughed. “Weed?”

  Traver grinned. “I gathered that but what kind?”

  “What do you mean what kind?” Back in the day we bought whatever we could. I had no idea there were different kinds. “I want the green kind. Pot, weed, grass, herb, cannabis, reefer, Mary Jane, kush—”

  Avery was laughing and I was trying to think of every name possible to tell Traver what I wanted.

  “I know what you want. There’s just different strains of it,” he said, cutting me off.

  “Different strains? Like What?” I furrowed an eyebrow.

  “All right,” Traver sighed. “I’m assuming this is for Brooke?”

  My eyes darted to Avery’s and then back to Traver. “Yeah …”

  “So you’ll want something that’s higher in CBD and not THC.”

  “CBD?” I knew what THC was, but I’d never heard of CBD.

  “Cannabidiol. It’s in a different type of plant.”

  I shook my head. “Whatever. I don’t need a history lesson. Just get me something that will help her with pain.”

  Traver grinned. “They’re all for pain.”

  I groaned. “You know what I mean.”

  “So like ACDC, Blueberry Essence, Maui Bubble Gift, Purple Cheese—”

  “Traver.” I stopped him from continuing. “I have no idea what any of those names mean except the band ACDC. Just get me what I need.”

  “Cool,” he stood. “I’ll have it to you within the next few days.”

  I pulled out some money and handed it to him. Now I needed to figure out how to get Brooke to actually do it.

  Someone could tell you that they were hurting, but until you lived it yourself, you had no idea what it was actually like.

  Living with pain twenty-four-seven made me think stuff like running the car off the road to end it all. I knew I would never do it—kill myself, but I understood why some people did it now. I had a better understanding as to why pain has such a strong voice in people’s lives.

  The agony I was living in was unbearable and felt as though it was getting worse. Since I still had the nerve medication from the time before, I started taking some. It wasn’t working. I would be fine one minute and then shooting pain would radiate down my arm causing me to cry out. I was starting to tolerate the constant throbbing pain that seemed to pulse non-stop.

  My emotions weren’t in check anymore either. I had no idea what was wrong with me and why I would cry at random times. I would see a commercial and start crying. I would be talking to Nicole on the phone about nothing and start crying. It was as though my pain was trying to escape by tears.

  I was in my normal spot on the couch, still in my pajamas when there was a knock at the door. Rolling off the couch as best as I could, I made my way to the door. When I looked through the peephole I noticed it was Nicole.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked as I opened the wooden door.

  “I got off early and wanted to come check on my favorite patient.” Nicole slipped in and I closed the door behind her.

  We started walking toward the couch that was starting to have an imprint of my entire body on it. “I would be better if my damn arm would calm the fuck down.”

  We sat on opposite sides of the couch, our legs crossed under us. “B, you had a nerve cut.”

  “I know,” I groaned. “I don’t understand why the oxy isn’t working.”

  “Oxy isn’t for nerves.”

  “I’m taking the same dosage of the nerve medication as I was before and that’s not working either.”

  “Do you want me to check with Dr. Albert and see what he says?” Dr. Albert
was the doctor she currently worked for.

  “Sure. I need a primary doctor anyway. I should probably start seeing him.”

  “I’ll get you in.”

  “Thanks,” I said and turned my attention back to Family Feud.

  “So where’s Cheyenne?” Nicole asked.

  “She goes to a summer program with Courtney.”

  “That’s cool. Whatcha eating for dinner?”

  I looked at the clock above the TV to see that it was almost time for Easton to come home and force me to eat. “I don’t know. Whatever Easton shoves down my throat.”

  She chuckled. “You need to eat so the oxy doesn’t fuck with your kidneys or liver.”

  Tears formed in my eyes. “I don’t mean to not eat.”

  Nicole moved closer and wrapped her arm around me, my bad arm going into her side with ease. “Why are you crying?”

  “I don’t know.” I really didn’t.

  “Crying from the pain?”

  “No. Yes. No. I mean, I hurt. I really do—like fucking bad. But I’m not crying because I’m in pain. I just cry out of the blue all the time.”

  “You’ve been through a lot.”

  I grunted. Obviously.

  “It might be a side effect of the oxy too.”

  “Great.” As I wiped the tears from my eyes, I heard the garage open. “Easton’s here.”

  “And that means Avery is too.”

  I looked up at her. “Why?”

  “Because we want to see you. We don’t hang out that often these days.”

  “Because we’re old married ladies now.” I tried to laugh at my own joke, but couldn’t.

  The boys walked in and Easton’s gaze immediately met mine. “We got pizza,” he said, stopping with two pizza boxes in his arms.

  “We’re not waiting for Cheyenne?” I asked.

  “She’s staying at my folks.”

  “Okay.” I watched Avery walk toward us with what looked like a packing box. He kissed Nicole before putting the box on the table. “What’s that?” I pointed at the box.

  “That, B.B., is going to help you.”

  “What?”

  “Let me ask you this,” Easton said. “How do you feel about Purple Cheese?”

  My eyebrows furrowed and Nicole stifled a laugh. “Purple Cheese?”

  “Yeah. Purple Cheese.” Easton set an orange prescription bottle with no label on the coffee table and then sat next to me.

  I looked at all three pairs of eyes as they stared at me. “Is there Purple Cheese in there?” I pointed at the case, seeing something in it, but couldn’t make it out.

  He smirked. “There is.”

  “And where did you get this cheese from?”

  “Traver.”

  “Does he make it?”

  Avery snorted and I glared at him.

  “No,” Easton answered.

  “Will you two fuckers knock it off?” Nicole snapped. “It’s pot, B.”

  I groaned. “No thanks.”

  Avery started to open the cardboard box on the table. “Just try it,” Easton said. “If you don’t like it or it doesn’t work, you don’t have to do it again.”

  “It will make you feel better,” Nicole stated. “Then you’ll get to eat all the pizza you want. You like pizza.”

  I did like pizza. I mean, who couldn’t like something that you could order in a million different ways. Don’t like cheese? Just have sauce. Don’t like pepperoni? Get veggie. Gluten free? There’s a solution for that too.

  “What are you scared of?” Easton asked. “Everyone in this room has done it except you.”

  “So this is peer pressure?” I asked.

  “No,” Nicole stated. “We all know how it will help you. We only want the best for you.”

  Avery started to pull contents out of the box. I watched as he set a black looking tower fan on the table, a clear long tube, various glass pieces and what looked like a wad of plastic bags.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s the vaporizer I told you about,” Easton answered.

  “How does it work?” I couldn’t believe I was asking about it like I wanted to actually use it.

  Easton leaned forward and grabbed the tube. “This goes in the top and you can smoke from it. Or,” he reached for a glass elbow looking thing, “you can attach this to a bag, let it fill up with smoke and then suck from it.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  He cracked a smile. “Research.”

  I relaxed a little. “So you’ve never used one of these?”

  Easton and Avery laughed as they looked at each other. “There’s no power outlet under the bleachers or in the park.” Easton chuckled.

  I rolled my eyes. “How does it work?”

  Avery reached into the box again and pulled out a black case. It looked like a giant round pill box. He twisted it open. “You put your Purple Cheese inside here, close it up and twist it so it grinds down to flakes.”

  “Why?”

  “It burns better.”

  I was totally confused. “How does it burn without being lit on fire?”

  “How about I show you as I get it ready for you?” Easton asked.

  I looked to Nicole and she grinned.

  “Fine.”

  Easton opened the prescription bottle and pulled out what looked like a nugget of weed. The unmistakable smell instantly filled the air. Of course I knew what it was—how it smelled—whatever. As I watched Easton grind the Purple Cheese, and Avery put together the vaporizer, I talked myself into doing it. I knew it wouldn’t kill me, but maybe it would make me feel better.

  “Are you sure it won’t burn my lung?” I asked my husband.

  “It shouldn’t,” he answered.

  Well that was reassuring.

  “You want to do the bag or the whip?” Avery asked.

  “The whip?”

  He held up the tub thing.

  “She should try the bag first,” Easton responded for me.

  I shrugged not knowing the difference.

  Avery set up the bag and I watched as he turned on the machine. Easton emptied some of the grinded pot into the top of what appeared to be an hourglass, and then turned to me. “So this will heat up the weed and cause it to smoke. Smoke will fill the whip and start filling up the bag. When you start sucking in the smoke, you’ll need to hold your finger on the whip after you remove the bag.”

  “So complicated,” I murmured.

  Nicole stood. “I’ll go get you some water.”

  “Once you have a lung full, hold it in as long as you can before you blow it out.”

  “Um … okay.” So I was going to do this.

  Nicole came back with a glass of water and set it on the table. I watched the bag fill with smoke as Family Feud played in the background.

  “Here, I’ll control the whip. Just put your finger on the hole of the elbow adaptor to stop the smoke from coming out until you’re ready.” Easton held the puffy bag out for me to take.

  I placed my finger over the adaptor and he took the whip back and held it in his hand. “So I just inhale?”

  “Yep,” Easton answered.

  Nicole was sitting next to Avery, leaning into him, and they were both staring at me like I was a TV show. It felt weird being the center of attention and doing something I’d never done before.

  “Just do it, B,” Nicole said.

  I glared at her for a beat and then lifted my thumb from the hole, placed my mouth over the opening and inhaled. I don’t care what Easton said, it burned. It felt as though my lungs were on fire. I could literally envision my lungs turning to ash. I tried to hold it in the best I could, but could only do a few seconds. I blew out, smoke filling the air in front of me.

  “Fuck,” I hissed. “It tastes like shit. And it burns!”

  The three of them chuckled.

  “You’ll get used to the taste,” Easton stated.

  I shook my head. “I’m not doing it again!”
/>   “Just trust us,” Avery said.

  “It hurts my lungs. Do you know what it’s like to have only one and half lungs?” I whined.

  “Baby,” Easton interjected, “do it one more time and we won’t ask you to do it again.”

  “No!” I snapped.

  “Oh my God, B, stop being a baby.”

  I glared at Nicole. “I’m not being a baby—”

  “Then do it again.” She waved her hand in the direction of the bag I was still holding. I groaned and did it again. This time I coughed and my chest ached with each one.

  “There we go,” Easton said. “Now that was a hit.”

  I was still coughing, not able to speak. The pain was severe, and my chest felt as though it was breaking in half. I couldn’t speak as I coughed over and over. I understand what people meant by the term “coughing up a lung”.

  Easton took the bag from me and Avery turned off the vaporizer. I didn’t know what to expect or how soon something would happen to me. I did know that I was never doing it again because it hurt like a motherfucker and tasted like … well, it tasted like how it smelled.

  “Let me see your scar, B,” Nicole said and sat up from Avery’s side. I lifted my shirt, thankful I had a sports bra under it and Nicole moved closer. “Wow,” she breathed.

  “I know. It’s big.” The scar ran from the base of my neck, down on the right side of my spine and then curved under my shoulder blade.

  “Yeah, but I was just looking at the actual scar. Your surgeon did a great job closing you up—twice.”

  I stopped paying attention to Nicole and started to watch TV again. “If you were setting a girl up with Dracula, name something positive you’d say about him,” Steve asked. The buzzer on Family Feud went off.

  “He’s a good sucker?”

  A smile spread on my face as I watched Steve scold the contestant. “You can’t say that on TV!”

  I cracked up. “Oh my God. That’s hilarious!”

  Tears rolled down my face, but not from being sad. “He’s a good sucker. Yeah, that will get a chick—wait, that would get a man.”

  “Men suck on women,” Easton stated.

  I looked at him for a beat and started to laugh again. “Yeah, they totally do.”

  I continued to laugh at the TV. It felt good. My pain was gone, and it felt as though I was in a different world.