IT’S MY LIFE
Me, Evan, and John Wayne
On a snowy Saturday, my big brother and I share wine, weed, and a movie
Through the industrial-sized windows in my cozy loft space, I see the snow coming down hard, swirling and twirling like hopped-up queens at the disco. It’s January. Chicago. And the Hawk is all over us. Cold and snow are in the weather forecast from now until June.
My brother Evan is on his way over. I called him early this morning, before the storm began, to see if he could cop some weed for me today.
Evan is five years older. He’s my connection. When I can’t get my usual 1/2 ounce from him, he knows who and where I can. And he’s always more than happy to make the trek and get it for me.
We’re still on, even in a snowstorm. He’ll stop here, get the cash, and then head out to his dealer on the far North Side near Northwestern University in Evanston.
Evan doesn’t drive. I don’t think he ever learned how. He rides public transportation and the weather never slows his roll. If the buses are still operating, so is he.
It’s a couple of hours before he makes it to my place. I open the door and watch as he gets off the elevator and strolls down the hall towards my apartment. Slender and leggy, my brother is never in a…
