Eddie's House
I was probably about 10 or 11 years old at the time. I was at my
childhood friends' house,
Luke and Tim in Leucadia, California. Living next door to them was a redheaded,
freckle-faced kid named Eddie. He had so many orange freckles in fact, it was like he
didn't have any because his entire face had become this orange freckle color. His parents
were disgusting. Even back then I knew there was something seriously wrong with his
family.
We're talking about a chain-smoking mother who just sat on the couch all day watching
crappy TV, and a father who I couldn't even fathom how fat and greasy he was. Their yard
was a dirt pit filled with trash and fleas, but it didn't compare, not even close, to the
inside of their house. I only ventured inside once, but I'll never forget it.
First of all, I had no idea there was some sort of invisible wall of death that separated
the outside of his house to the inside. It's one of those things you don't know until it's
too late. The door opened and I stepped in. The first thing I noticed was an odor that hit
me like a ton of bricks. I thought I was going to pass out. My initial reaction was panic
-
flashes of a premature death by suffocation crossed my mind. To this day, I have
absolutely
no idea what you could possibly mix to make that smell. I do know that cigarettes, burnt
tortillas, stale saltines, rotten beans, peanut butter, wet dogs, and chickens were
involved somehow. I could already feel the fleas attacking my legs. The fireplace was the
biggest ashtray I've ever seen in my life. I've still never seen a pile of cigarette butts
that big. You couldn't see the top of the pile. I don't know how high it extended up the
chute, but I remember making a mental note to look at the chimney from the outside just to
see if I could see any butts popping out. Another thing about cigarette mountain was that
it was still burning and smoking! I felt lightheaded. I started getting dizzy.
Eddie offered me a stale saltine covered with peanut butter. I don't know why I accepted
it, but I did. What the hell was I thinking? You know how cigarette smoke will stick to
your clothes, leaving that viciously rank odor? That's exactly what happened to those
saltine crackers. The stench penetrated deep inside the crackers, and then I knew it was
quite possible I might vomit all over his mom if I ate that rotten peanut butter thing
sticking to my hand. I immediately started plotting ways to get rid of it without anyone
noticing. Eddie was standing right there, and his mom sat on the couch next to I don't
know
how many cartons of cigarettes. I asked to use the bathroom in hopes of secretly flushing
it down the toilet. My plan failed becuase Eddie's little sister was taking a bath. Poor
girl. I imagined her immersed in mud while using a plunger to scrub her back.
I felt like an idiot standing there with that cracker and knew I couldn't stall any
longer.
So, I did what I had to do. I stuck it into my mouth with a smile and wiped my hands off
on
my pants. Normally, a stale peanut butter cracker wouldn't be all that bad, but this was
on
another level. My tongue burned as if acid was poured on it. My whole face was beginning
to
get numb, and I'm sure I lost all sensation in my mouth. My vision blurred and I was
slightly disoriented, but I forced my jaw to continue moving up and down. Eddie told me he
was going to make another one and asked if I wanted one. "No!" I yelled. "I
mean, I'm not
really that hungry right now." At this point I had at least two flea circuses
traveling
across my body. I proceeded to compulsively scratch myself. I felt like a freak, but I
couldn't help it.
Suddenly, Eddie's mom cut the grossest fart I've ever heard in my entire life. I didn't
know what to do. It didn't even seem real. Nothing was said. She just tossed her old
cigarette in the fireplace and lit up a new one. I knew at that moment I had to get out of
the house as soon as possible. There was no time for Eddie to come back from the kitchen.
I
tried to speak his name, but I had somehow lost my voice. Only a small squeak came out. My
legs were wobbly and weak, but I forced them to move.
I finally made it outside and gasped for air. Eddie came out a couple of minutes later and
asked if I was alright. I didn't know how I made it out of his house with my life. I just
smiled and told him I was fine.
As I left, I looked up at the chimney...