2 Stories by Chester Holden
Of the Highest Stakes
“Hell,” said Upton, shrugging his shoulders, “I suppose we could eat psychedelic mushrooms and look around for god.”
Tessie cringed and asked, “Can’t those things send you on some seriously dreadful trips?”
“It all depends,” said Upton. “I see them as a sort of subconscious coin flip of the highest stakes. They’ll either send you to heaven or condemn you to hell.”
Tessie briefly thought this over and asked, “How bad is hell?”
“Pretty bad,” said Upton, shivering at whatever memory this brought to mind.
“You know what?” said Tessie, suddenly surging with determination. “Let’s do it. I want to give this a try.”
Upton then exchanged several messages with an old acquaintance before departing their apartment and meeting him on a nearby street corner. He returned a short while later with nearly no cash and a ziplock bag somewhat full of illegal fungi.
Although perhaps the worst meal she ever had, Tessie finished her share of dehydrated mushrooms without complaint. She then meticulously picked dry clumps out of her teeth and commenced washing the taste from her mouth with practically everything in their refrigerator.
The couple cuddled on their couch for the next forty minutes, watching a random wildlife documentary and anxiously anticipating a dramatic shift in consciousness. Then, without explanation, Tessie left their blanket and lay alone on the hardwood floor. She stared up at the ceiling and- eventually becoming fixated on the fast-spinning blades of a fan- exclaimed, “This sure is something. Everything is so amazingly alive and interconnected and overwhelming and happening all at the same frickin time. Especially all the lights and colors. But my god, holy crap, man. How much longer is this all going to be for?”
“You shouldn’t fret over anything so trifling as time at a time like this,” said Upton, looking with intense admiration at the backs of his hands. “Just sit back, relax, and hitch a ride with the here and now to paradise, baby. And if somehow you can’t find comfort in that, you can always focus on the unfathomable privilege of breathing.”
“What if I can’t do that either?” asked Tessie, her eyes two uncertain windows to a horrified soul.
With tears streaming appreciatively down his face, Upton replied, “Always remember that no matter what anyone says or does, absolutely everything that comes must go. And from this fundamental truth arises all beauty, love, and purpose.”
No Man for Me
It was a cold and windy late winter evening in Edinboro, Pennsylvania, and Adeline had the strangest feeling. “Take me home,” she demanded, uncharacteristically unbuckling from the passenger seat of her boyfriend’s luxury car.
“Are you alright?” said Easton. “Is there something I can do?”
Adeline turned to her immediate right, staring out the window for some time in brooding silence before sternly reiterating, “Take me home.”
“But we always stay out longer than this.”
“Not tonight, we don’t.”
“Is this about what I think it is?”
“Unless you mean my desire to go home-”
“I mean your loser ex-boyfriend.”
“Weston might not be much good for winning in reality, but at least he’s got the guts to admit it.”
“And what,” said Easton, glancing away from the hazardous snow-covered road and glaring at Adeline’s long dark hair, “I suppose that makes me an oblivious coward?”
Adeline laughed indignantly. “You talked me out of following my dreams,” she said. “You… You just want me to be your loyal little servant, to die never having experienced anything outside this dead-end town.”
“Adeline, baby, all I ever wanted was for us to be happy together. And I knew we could be happy here.”
“No, Easton. You knew you could be happy here.”
Easton then gnawed off a hang-nail and desperately replied, “Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. Tell me where you want me to take you, and I’ll take you there.”
“Give me a break,” said Adeline, finally looking away from the window. “Aren’t you ever going to grow up and be a man?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” said Easton, a single tear trickling down his cheek.
Adeline cringed in unapologetic disgust. And before looking back out the window, she emphatically declared, "Well then, you’re no man for me.”
“Hell,” said Upton, shrugging his shoulders, “I suppose we could eat psychedelic mushrooms and look around for god.”
Tessie cringed and asked, “Can’t those things send you on some seriously dreadful trips?”
“It all depends,” said Upton. “I see them as a sort of subconscious coin flip of the highest stakes. They’ll either send you to heaven or condemn you to hell.”
Tessie briefly thought this over and asked, “How bad is hell?”
“Pretty bad,” said Upton, shivering at whatever memory this brought to mind.
“You know what?” said Tessie, suddenly surging with determination. “Let’s do it. I want to give this a try.”
Upton then exchanged several messages with an old acquaintance before departing their apartment and meeting him on a nearby street corner. He returned a short while later with nearly no cash and a ziplock bag somewhat full of illegal fungi.
Although perhaps the worst meal she ever had, Tessie finished her share of dehydrated mushrooms without complaint. She then meticulously picked dry clumps out of her teeth and commenced washing the taste from her mouth with practically everything in their refrigerator.
The couple cuddled on their couch for the next forty minutes, watching a random wildlife documentary and anxiously anticipating a dramatic shift in consciousness. Then, without explanation, Tessie left their blanket and lay alone on the hardwood floor. She stared up at the ceiling and- eventually becoming fixated on the fast-spinning blades of a fan- exclaimed, “This sure is something. Everything is so amazingly alive and interconnected and overwhelming and happening all at the same frickin time. Especially all the lights and colors. But my god, holy crap, man. How much longer is this all going to be for?”
“You shouldn’t fret over anything so trifling as time at a time like this,” said Upton, looking with intense admiration at the backs of his hands. “Just sit back, relax, and hitch a ride with the here and now to paradise, baby. And if somehow you can’t find comfort in that, you can always focus on the unfathomable privilege of breathing.”
“What if I can’t do that either?” asked Tessie, her eyes two uncertain windows to a horrified soul.
With tears streaming appreciatively down his face, Upton replied, “Always remember that no matter what anyone says or does, absolutely everything that comes must go. And from this fundamental truth arises all beauty, love, and purpose.”
No Man for Me
It was a cold and windy late winter evening in Edinboro, Pennsylvania, and Adeline had the strangest feeling. “Take me home,” she demanded, uncharacteristically unbuckling from the passenger seat of her boyfriend’s luxury car.
“Are you alright?” said Easton. “Is there something I can do?”
Adeline turned to her immediate right, staring out the window for some time in brooding silence before sternly reiterating, “Take me home.”
“But we always stay out longer than this.”
“Not tonight, we don’t.”
“Is this about what I think it is?”
“Unless you mean my desire to go home-”
“I mean your loser ex-boyfriend.”
“Weston might not be much good for winning in reality, but at least he’s got the guts to admit it.”
“And what,” said Easton, glancing away from the hazardous snow-covered road and glaring at Adeline’s long dark hair, “I suppose that makes me an oblivious coward?”
Adeline laughed indignantly. “You talked me out of following my dreams,” she said. “You… You just want me to be your loyal little servant, to die never having experienced anything outside this dead-end town.”
“Adeline, baby, all I ever wanted was for us to be happy together. And I knew we could be happy here.”
“No, Easton. You knew you could be happy here.”
Easton then gnawed off a hang-nail and desperately replied, “Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. Tell me where you want me to take you, and I’ll take you there.”
“Give me a break,” said Adeline, finally looking away from the window. “Aren’t you ever going to grow up and be a man?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” said Easton, a single tear trickling down his cheek.
Adeline cringed in unapologetic disgust. And before looking back out the window, she emphatically declared, "Well then, you’re no man for me.”
Chester Holden is from Cambridge Springs, Pennsylvania. His writing has been published or is forthcoming in Across the Margin, Door is a Jar, Alien Buddha, Lit Camp, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, The Helix, Primeval Monster, On the Run, Potato Soup, and others. You can follow him on Twitter @ChesterHolden9.
