Kali sat in bed with her legs crossed.  The room was dark, save for the light of the candle on the tomato-crate-turned nightstand.  Her packed pipe sat next to her on the bed in the empty can of tuna she used for an ashtray.  Her notebook, with this crinkly pages and faded blue lines, was on her lap.

Buck had taken a detour when they left Oakland to stop by her favorite dispensary in Berkeley—poor guy that worked there had no idea what was about to happen, at least until he saw the gun in his face and his security guy was knocked out just inside the door.  It had been a miracle Buck had made that stop for her at all, but Kali had whined and pouted and stomped until he gave in, figuring he’d rather have her stoned and happy than bitching for the road trip.

So, in a hurry and afraid he’d get in trouble since things weren’t that bad when they left, he had gotten her enough to last a bit.   Kali had thought he’d just buy some, but, unlike her, Buck somehow knew things were going to shit for real and he wasn’t going to waste money on weed, and he certainly wasn’t going to waste time or cargo space in the car.  She had to listen to him grumble for an hour and half about how only she would think of going on a fuckin’ weed run when the world was going to shit.

Now it was all gone.  Who would think that you’d need so much weed to live through the apocalypse?  Sure, Kali had definitely been a little pothead pre-fall-of-mankind, but it was California!  $50 worth would last her a week.  But most of what she had now she’d gotten off of her customers, and just thinking of being out of pot made her anxious, which made her want to smoke more, which cut into her stash, which made her anxious…

Now essays had been the bane of Kali’s existence in school (when she managed to attend).  And here she was, wanting to write.  Wanting to put something down on paper so like maybe a hundred years from now someone as hot as Indiana Jones would find it and read it and fall in love with her and travel through time and come rescue her and fuck… that was good weed.  At least this time her writing wouldn’t be covered with red-ink circles and scribbles and a big fat D- at the top.

I’m not sure when Jack went mising exactly.  I never saw a whole lot of her to begin with but this time its been a realy long stretch.  Me and Charlie and Boots kept the place going but it’s gotten to the point where I just had to do something or the place was just gonna go bust ya know what I mean?  And I realy realy can’t let it go.  It’s been like my home for like 4 months now and I’m sure it’s the same for Charlie and Boots .  If the bar goes completely to shit where do we go?  I’d end up turning tricks on the street or at the fucking Doll House and there is just no fucking way.  And what would Charlie and Boots do? 

So I hired a bunch of people.  Niko first, cocky ass hole that he is and fuckin’ hot, but I don’t realy know where he stands cause he works at ATC too.  Sky is sweet and cool and his boyfriend or S.O. is a doctor and he can pour and he’s friendly to people.  Kei is super nice.  Don’t think she’s the type to shove her boobs into a guy’s face for tips but shit she rocked one of my dresses so hard I want her to keep it.  I mean srsly where else are we gonna get to wear shit like that again?  Nathan and his twang and fancy talk and that fuckin beard.   Charming, like he says.  I’ll say!  It’s a shame he left town, for sure.  I hope he stays safe, and that he remembers me when he comes back through town!

So the big news is that Kei, Niko and this friend Shane found Buck’s Bronco.  HA!! Didn’t relize til now how those two words went together.  We were lucky no one had found it yet and it was still full.  They ran into Creepers and Kei wound up with a gash in her arm and had to get stiches.   There was bugs and shit in it but we got stuff, and my clothes and my hair crap and some stuff we could all use here.  I’m torn between burning all of Bucks shit or giving it away.  Some of the clothes are good still.  Then Niko went and killed this pig.  Fuck did I know that shit was going to be so big?  Kei and Nathan cleant it and cut it up but fuck the mess in the ally took me almost all night to clean but we are eating pork chops for a few days anyway.

Kei and I had a little girl talk too.  She’s like fuckin-amasing.  Helped me take off my collar.  I werent sure how I would feel about that but its okay.  My neck feels a little funny and like naked but I FEEL GOOD.  Buck is gone for GOOD.  I’ve kicked out my life whatever was left of him, like Madonna out of a Catholic Church.  He ain’t gonna be cummin after me an I don’t own him shit.  I didn’t know how Kei woud react to me either when I told her shit but I had to tell somebody, get that shit off my chest. Lifes gotta get good somehow.

Drunk, or high, or too tired, Kali walked around her too-tidy room putting things away and folding things carefully, double checking the door and propping a chair under the knob, she climbed into bed making her now forgotten collar jingle like a bell, she closed her notebook and blew out the candle.

P.S.  The writer knows Madonna was never formally excommunicated, and the writer apologizes for Kali’s bad writing and spelling, and though she felt that Kali spelling should have been worse, its really hard to deliberately misspell stuff!  The writer also knows that the ritual to ring a bell, close a book and blow out the candle belongs to a formal old excommunication ritual, but it’s often misquoted as a ritual to break a spell or  exorcism.