Lee approached him as he descended the stairs and greeted him with a hand-carved tray with several different blunts, joints, and bowls, and an engraved, silver lighter with the Wequilibrium logo on it. “You must be starving. Enjoy one of these first and the food will taste even better than you can imagine. I’m going to suggest that you go lightly. You haven’t eaten solid food in three weeks, and you have cleansed out a lifetime of toxins and debris so your system is clean in ways it has never been before. I don’t want you to get so high that you sleep through the entire weekend.”
Marvin knew that all the cannabis, all the tobacco, all the fruits, vegetables, and livestock; he knew that anything and everything that could be grown or made within the Wequilibrium community, was, but he had no idea which one to choose. He started to ask about the different strains but Lee had anticipated his questions and he was rattling off names and THC content percentages before he even had an opportunity to ask. Lee, trained to be hyper vigilant, and fully recognizing that Marvin was experiencing sensory overload, recommended the Golden Goat joint which was an indica/sativa hybrid that would give him a nice body high and amazing insights but not put him down for the count. Lee held up the lighter and allowed Marvin to take a hit and watched as he exhaled slowly.
Marvin felt, possibly for the first time in his life, spoiled. Spoiled wasn’t the right word, merely being offered a selection of weed didn’t count as being spoiled, but, in his mind, it was a rare sensation: someone was there to take care of him and didn’t want or expect anything in return. He sat on the sofa in silence, still trying to take it all in. He only took about four puffs and put the joint out in the ashtray, wanting to save it for after he had had a meal.
The high hit just right. He felt relaxed and receptive. “I don’t understand.” Those were the only words Marvin could form as he looked at the dinner table that had formal plates, cloth napkins, and wine glasses and candles that looked like he was in an expensive restaurant. And the food smelled amazing. He hadn’t felt hungry the entire time he was cleansing because he was sipping on all kinds of soups and broths, drinking smoothies, juices, teas, and water all day long, from morning till night, but the smells of whatever he was about to eat had him salivating like a Pavlovian dog.
“Get used to it. You’re going to eat and drink like royalty every day. Speaking of, what would you like to drink? I have beer, wine and a multitude of different flavored moonshines. Anything nonalcoholic, I have. I bought some Patron for you. The beers we have are unlike anything you’ve ever tasted before so I can’t say, ‘Oh, this tastes like Heineken or Sam Adams or Coors Lite, but they’re all really good.'”
“We don’t have anything close to Hennessy yet. Everything we have is made by members of the family and our Distillers are still working on phase 1 of the plan. We have an extraordinary selection of beer, wine, and moonshine because, well, 1. We have an inexhaustible supply of fruit, fruit, fruit, and more fresh, in season, ripe, exotic fruit than you can shake a stick at and we figured that would be the easiest to experiment with. And 2. We figured that moonshine would not only be a perfect metaphor for the New World, and we could incorporate fruit, but it would also be the most forgiving as no one really had expectations of what it should taste like. I think we found the perfect balance of moonshine that tastes amazing and packs a punch.”
“How did you know that I like . . . Oh, the thingy I filled out,” remembering the questionnaire as he sat down in the upholstered Louis the XIV dining room chair that had been reupholstered with a dark, navy blue, floral print that somehow looked very masculine to him, like a throne. “When I drink at home, alone, to get drunk,” he added, “I’m a tequila man. I haven’t done that in a while. The need to get drunk doesn’t hit like it used to. I’ll have a beer or two when I’m hanging out at a cookout or something, and I drink a Henny and Coke when out and about and I end up in some club smoking a cigar. I’ll take some water aaaand something else. How about you decide.”
“I’d love it if you tried this wine. I think you’ll Love it. I made it and it’s one of my favorites.”
“Wait, you made it? You make wine?” The look on his face was so very typical of new members of the family.
“Just take a sip. See if you like it. When I first moved here, when I first joined the community, I didn’t drink that much wine, let alone think I could make it. Before The Shift, when I drank wine, it was purely because I thought it was the sophisticated thing to do and it was expected of me in the social circles I ran in. This is a cherimoya wine and it really compliments . . .”
“Wait! A who what kinna wine?” Marvin interrupted. Marvin felt intimidated and stupid. Unlike before The Shift, however, he wasn’t afraid to ask questions he didn’t know the answer to.
“A cherimoya. To me, it tastes like bananas, and it’s got a little taste of pineapples, maybe just a hint of strawberries. I’m absolutely sure you tasted it during your cleanse, in the smoothies or juices you had, you just didn’t know what it was called. Like I was saying, I never really ENJOYED wine before, now, I Love it.”
Lee poured some wine and waited. Marvin swirled it in the glass and took a whiff like a seasoned sommelier. He didn’t swish it around in his mouth though, he just swallowed and added his best wine tasting review. “It’s sweet, but not too sweet, and full-bodied, lots of flavor while mellow. I like it!” Lee smiled as he filled Marvin’s glass just as he was filled with pride because, while he hadn’t made that specific bottle, it was his recipe that he had perfected and that made him feel accomplished.
Raising his glass, Marvin said, “Cheers.”
Lee added, “Here’s to healing our collective wounds and residing in the lap of Love.” The crystal engraved glasses made a beautiful sound as they clinked.
Lee served the first course. It was an avocado and crab salad with Cajun seasoning served on a bed of arugula with parmesan crisps with pomegranate/balsamic dressing. Everything tastes better when it’s made from organic, home-grown ingredients and it’s made with love so the pomegranate had more tang, the avocado seemed creamier, the seasonings packed more punch, and the lettuce had more crunch. Even the beautiful lace parmesan crisps were packed with flavor. Having grown up right on the Chesapeake Bay, Marvin loved crab and these were huge lumps of sweet crab.
One bite. One bite and Marvin’s eyes rolled back in his head. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Well, that’s what it sounded like he was saying because his mouth was full. The look on his face looked like he was having an orgasm. Again, Lee beamed with pride because while he hadn’t cooked one thing for the evening, he had selected the perfect menu items that pleased his guest.