Smoking marijuana at home…
Smoking marijuana was pretty new to me at this point. It had been maybe a couple of weeks since I first smoked “mota”, not knowing that it was marijuana. It was also the first time I brought marijuana home with me from my friend Tim’s house.
The ride home with marijuana
My parents picked me up from Tim’s apartment, and we headed home. I remember being pretty quiet on the way, wondering if they could tell I had been smoking marijuana or not. As a matter of fact – I was convinced they knew I was smoking marijuana, and that if I said more than a couple words to them, it would be as good as admitting guilt. To make matters worse, every so often, I’d catch a whiff of the joints I had in my wallet. Of course this made me twice as paranoid.
The rest of the ride home seemed to be fairly unmemorable, other than the feeling that I was “caught” already and I needed to keep quiet. I was in my own zone at the time, so I didn’t pay attention to much else. “Tired” seemed like a good excuse as to why I was being so quiet – just in case someone asked, I was ready.
Once we got home, I remember an immediate sense of relief. I went right to my room, and put my wallet – with the marijuana in it – in my desk-drawer, so no one would “come across” it and snoop, or happen to smell the marijuana that was inside and get curious.
The rest of the day I spent in my bedroom – playing video games and relaxing – generally trying to avoid much contact with my parents. I figured something about the grin on my face, or the half open eyes might give me away and get me in trouble.
After a couple hours of playing Zelda, I drifted off to sleep and woke up the next morning feeling refreshed.
It must have been Sunday morning, since I slept-in late, and didn’t have school until the next day. I grabbed a cup of water from the water-cooler in our kitchen and chugged it down like usual. This time though, I was dying of thirst and that ice cold water hit the spot.
Once I went out into the living-room – I heard our parents say something about “leaving for a few” and “leaving the kids at home alone for a little while”. Then my dad said “something, something… you boys are going to clean out the garage for me when we get back….”.
Then our parents got ready and headed out the door, which is when I started to get an idea to smoke some marijuana while they were away, before cleaning out the garage, and whatever else it was we were supposed to do.
Time to smoke a joint
I’m not sure where our parents had to go at the time, but I do know – they weren’t home, and I really wanted to smoke one of the 2 marijuana joints I had stashed in my wallet.
My older brother, who is exactly 2 years older than me (and 14 at the time), was around the house somewhere, but since I didn’t see or hear him, I figured it was safe to step out back and take a few puffs of one of the joints I had. I wasn’t sure how he would act if he knew I was smoking marijuana, but I did know that he had a habit of blaming things he did on me, as well as telling on me when I did something I wasn’t supposed to. Also, I was pretty sure I heard him say something on the ride home about “smelling a funny smell, when he came to Tim’s door to get me”. The safest bet at this point I thought, was to just go somewhere that he wasn’t at, and not tell him about smoking marijuana at all.
Anyway, I didn’t see or hear him anywhere, so I figured he must be back in bed, or in the bathroom (the places where he usually hid out when there was work to do).
I grabbed my wallet out of my bedroom, swiped a lighter from off one of the tables, and headed back behind the tool shed where we kept our dirt-bikes stored. Then I took one of the joints out of my wallet, and rolled it between my fingers to make it round again (it had gotten smashed-flat in my wallet).
I put the joint in my mouth, lit a lighter, and was just lighting the end of the joint and taking a puff, when out of nowhere…
“What the hell are you doing?” I heard my brother ask from beside the shed.
I jumped back and tried to hide the joint, but it was too late. He saw the lighter, saw the joint, and now I had to think of what to do – and quick!
“What the hell is that?” he asked.
“Uh, well – what do you think it is?” was about all I could come up with to say as I blew the one puff of smoke I got while lighting the joint – out.
I couldn’t figure out how I just got caught smoking marijuana, but either my brother was being way too sneaky, or I fucked up.
Damn it! He must have been in the backyard all along, or he followed me out like a sneak! Either way…..
I was caught smoking marijuana for the first time – or so it seemed.