Oliver Benjamin
2. Johnny Ganjaseed
Niles sat back in the lobby of Partment’s halfway house, both fatigued
and awe-struck. As far as halfway houses went, he guessed this one
was as goofy as they got.
World O’Partments was something like a lunatic franchise: it was
well decorated, clean, comfortable, and chock full of nuts. A giant
logo above the entrance read “World O’Partments,” pink block letters
orbiting around a cheerful blue-green earth. Hopeful tenants showed
up every day but Partment never got tired of telling them, “Sorry.
You’ve got to be crazyto live here.” It was the official slogan.
The Rastafarian was waiting to discuss business with Partment,
for whom he had arranged to supply a massive shipment of special
seeds. Coffee beans, of course, were seeds too, like all legumes, but
this was not the species Partment had arranged to buy.
Niles thought it odd how he had become a pusher of pips to
fringe elements of the population. Between helping to fuel Roy’s
attempts to become a rebel coffeehouse and Partment’s insane plans
to overthrow civilization, he believed himself a true subversive, a
Johnny Appleseed gone absolutely modern. Partment had a similar
nickname for him, but it was one he preferred not to use on the
premises—this was a technically a halfway house after all. A sign
prominently displayed behind the counter warned: “Abandon dope,
all ye who enter!”
Partment was busy doling out money to his meter militia—the
lobby was filled with homeless folk waiting to receive their monthly
cut. They were not his tenants, but a standing army of free agents
culled from the nearby streets and beaches. Checks from last month’s
errant parkers were tallied and fifty percent was handed back to each
soldier who found the offending vehicle, the other fifty percent
funneled directly back into his operations. What those operations
were, no one was really sure, but at the very least he was providing a
source of income to the needy while penalizing the arrogant
“automatons,” as he called them, for taking up insane amounts of
territory for free.
The vagrants filtered out of the building in search of cheap booze
or drugs. Partment saluted each as they left. By this time, Niles had
fallen asleep on the tattered sofa and was rattled awake by the old
man’s rebel yell.
“Up and at ‘em!” he screamed.
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