Excerpt: ‘Stoned’ by G.M. Skovlund

The following excerpt is from the newly released book, Stoned by G.M. Skovlund. 

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I go back to painting. It’s not long before the last stroke of creamy white paint is applied.

‘He who dies with the most toys wins!’ Dumb quote.

I tap the paint lid back on the can and grab the stencils, pen and paint brush. The shop is quiet other than the radio blaring ‘American Woman’. I figured Drew must have changed the station when dad left the shop. The paintbrush is rinsed and clean so I feel pretty safe about leaving. The paint can go back by the door and I need to check to see if anyone is still here.

After sitting the can down, I walk over to the supply room. No one is in there so I better lock the doors. The overhead door is just a push button. It seemed like it took forever to close. As I walk in between the semis towards the front door I can’t help but notice how huge they are. It’s kind of creepy in here when I know I’m alone. Everything echoes. A few birds fly from the rafters making me stop and look up. When I look up to the ceiling, I see the nest that the birds had built. I wonder if the guys know about it. If Barry did he probably brought twigs in to help the bird. He’s such a Dr. Doolittle. I hear a truck has pulled up as I get closer to the door, so I figure I better wait until whoever it is comes in, and then I don’t need to bother with locking it. Hopefully it’s not a trucker or customer…that would be awkward.

The door swings open and it’s Tim. He looks surprised to see me standing that close to the door.

“All done?” Big smile, again.

“Yeah…do you want to look at it before I leave? In case it’s not what you wanted?”

“Yeah… let’s take a look.” He starts walking back and opens the overhead door. The sunshine spills into the shop once again. I’m feeling uneasy being here alone with him, and I shouldn’t.

I follow him out to the trailer. He’s looking it over slowly, pausing to look closer in spots. Great… I did something wrong.

“How about I give you two hundred now and you can start on my other trailer next week?” Wow. Not the reaction I expected.

“Sure… I mean are you sure? That’s a lot of money.” I stammer.

I really think that’s too much. I really don’t want to take that much; this was too easy of a job.

“Do you realize how much it would have cost me to have a body shop do this? You’re saving me a lot of money. I really appreciate you doing this.” He takes his wallet out and tries to hand me the money. I shove my hands in my pocket. It’s too much.

“Tim, that’s too much.”

“Gia. You’re so sweet to not want to take it… but you earned it. I can’t have you paint for me if I feel like I’m taking advantage of your sweet nature.”

I think I just turned every shade of red there is. He’s holding the bills out to me and has his head drooping down to look me in the eye. I feel so… stupid.

“Okay. I don’t want you to feel bad.” I say and then laugh a little at him. This is ridiculous. Why wouldn’t I take the money? I don’t have a job! Sweet nature?

“Thanks Tim. When do you want me here next week?”

I need to get out of here before I blush any more than I am. Hopefully he will think it’s just that I’ve been in the sun to long.

“I’ll let your dad know and he can approve it, okay?”

He seems satisfied that I took the bills. I feel we are back at a normal conversation now. Sweet nature?

“Okay… see you later.” Tim says.

“Yep… see you!”

I walk as fast as I can to the front door. The bathroom at home is hopefully ready to be used. I’m not in the mood for that camper shower contraption. I can hear the big overhead door closing at the back of the shop; instinctively I look back and realize that Tim has been watching me as I walk towards the front door. I didn’t think I would see anything but a big door coming down, but he caught my eye. How embarrassing can this get?

I turn back to the front door quickly and the view of the door is nothing but a glimpse of a can, black goo splashing, and then a startled look from Drew. The clank of the can he was holding ends the seemingly slow motion movie of the mess.

I’m covered in black… goo. I don’t know what it is. What the…? My hat is dripping, t-shirt is sopped, and my jeans… splattered.

“I’m sorry Gia! I’m sooooo sorry… ” Drew is dancing from foot to foot as he panics over the spill. He grabs the nearest shop rag and offers it for me to use. I grab it and start to wipe, but it just smears. How do I get this off?!

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