Via Prague

‘OK,’ I said, in review. ‘We’ve known each other three years and this place doesn’t exist.’
‘Right,’ Gordon said. He went back to rolling the joint, taking a cigarette from my pack, he broke off the end to mix in tobacco.
‘This place doesn’t exist?’ I asked.
‘Hell, no!’ Gordon said, with a start. ‘If Kristina caught me in here -‘ his Australian baritone drawled the ‘here’ out.
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I guess we all need our secrets.’
‘Absolutely.’
Pavel came by. He took our empty pint glasses and returned with fresh drafts. On the TV a Coen brothers film was playing, O Brother Where Art Thou. It was the third night in a row Pavel had shown the film. I watched the film until Gordon passed the joint.
‘I thought I’d find you two here!’
We looked up. John, a short, stocky Englishman had just come in. ‘Do you mind?’ He sat down.
‘What’s this I hear about this place doesn’t exist?’
‘I was just telling our man when he meets my girlfriend that we’ve known each other three years and this place doesn’t exist.’
‘Right, why three years though?’
‘Otherwise she’ll wonder where I met him.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘I’m meeting my partners tomorrow,’ Gordon went on. ‘They’ve already put up half a million, and maybe more soon. Kristina would be furious if she saw I was here smoking. Oh, another thing, Jack -‘ he looked at me. ‘And we don’t smoke.’
‘So when will I meet her?’
‘Oh, you’ll meet her.’
‘It’s a lot to remember.’
‘I’ll remind you when the time comes.’
‘So you’re all set with the business?’ I asked a little later. We were still sitting and smoking.
‘Yeah, now we’re registering the company and Tomas is working on the website. Hope to have it up before Christmas, for the rush.’
‘Lots of tourists in Prague then.’
‘Yeah, exactly. So,’ Gordon handed me the joint, but it was dust. ‘This will probably be my last night for a while. Gotta keep my head clear, know what I mean?’
‘Have you ever done jury duty?’ John interrupted, apropos of seemingly nothing.
Gordon and I shook our heads.
‘In England,’ John continued, leaning forward. ‘There was a girl - eighteen, nineteen - she had a boyfriend who was in prison serving time for armed robbery. When they searched her on the way in for a visit they found an eighth of weed on her. They suspected her of trying to smuggle it in for her boyfriend and so they arrested her.’
‘Did you convict her?’ I asked.
‘Well, the question we had to decide,’ he went on, ignoring the interruption. ‘Or what we felt we had to decide … You see, she claimed it was hers, for her personal use and she just forgot it was in her pocket. So we had to decide was she telling the truth, that she just forgot, or was she lying. We asked the court to provide us with a sample of the evidence -‘
‘Right.’ Gordon and I exchanged grins.
‘I see where this is going,’ Gordon said. ‘Let me guess, you shut the doors, rolled a fatty. Case dismissed. Lack of evidence.’
‘Not quite,’ John said, swallowing his own smile. ‘What we did was, we got the sample, passed it around … and it was very good stuff. The bud thick as your thumb, green and sticky. We asked ourselves - if you had weed of this quality hanging about, could you possibly forget about it?’
‘No,’ Gordon said.
‘Right,’ John said. ‘That’s what we decided. There was just no way she could have forgotten about it.’
‘So you convicted her?’ I asked.
‘Yes, absolutely.’
‘What was the vote?’
‘Oh, unanimous.’
Gordon and I nodded.
‘Poor girl though,’ I said. ‘What was the sentence?’
‘Oh, I can’t remember now.’
‘In a way it’s too bad,’ I said. ‘I guess it’s pretty harmless, to bring some pot to your boyfriend in jail.’
‘Right,’ John said. ‘But we weren’t there to decide that. And the girl got caught after all.’
‘Go for a shot of rum?’ Gordon asked.
Gordon went to the bar, and came back with three little glasses of the amber-colored Czech rum. We drank them quickly. Then John produced his own small bag, put a small bud on the table, took the broken cigarette and broke off another piece to add to the pile.
‘By the way Jack,’ John looked over at me. ‘Gordon and I have been talking. We want to know the reason that you insist on never buying any weed yourself.’
‘Like I told Gordon, I never ask for it.’
‘Right, but still -‘
‘Look, if you need a beer, I’ll buy you one. If you need money, I’ll lend you some. I just don’t pay for pot.’
‘But isn’t that rather strange, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Maybe. But also, this is the only place I ever smoke it. People just pass it around. If you pass it to me I’ll smoke it. But I don’t ask for it.’
‘It’s fine with me,’ Gordon said mildly. ‘I brought it up that one time, that’s all. I respect what you’re saying.’
‘Yes, but still it’s nice,’ John continued. ‘I mean, for form’s sake, you know, to pick one up now and again. Otherwise -‘
‘Otherwise I’m a sponger.’
‘Well,’ he made a wry face. ‘I wouldn’t use those particular words, but yes, I suppose in a way.’
‘So how much is a bag?’
‘250 crowns.’
‘If it makes you happy, I’ll buy one,’ I said. ‘After all, for form’s sake.’
‘I would appreciate it.’ John went back to rolling the joint.
‘Not today though.’
‘Not today?’
‘I’m already fucked up,’ I said. ‘I’d probably buy it, then forget I had, if you know what I mean.’
‘Touche.’
‘I agree with Jack,’ Gordon said. ‘Don’t buy it. Besides we never smoke any of your stuff anyway.’
‘What? Never smoke any of my stuff?’
‘No.’
‘That’s rubbish!’
‘Hey, I’m only kidding man.’ Gordon smiled. Presently he checked his mobile, then rose and put on his coat.
‘What? You’re not leaving, are you?’ John protested. He’d just finished rolling the joint and was reaching over to use my lighter.
‘Sorry,’ Gordon said. ‘But I’ve got to get home. Kristina will be getting off work by now. If she walks by and looks in here -‘
‘This place doesn’t exist,’ I said.
‘Right. This place doesn’t exist.’
‘Well, at least stay and smoke this with us,’ John insisted.
‘No, I gotta get going. See you guys maybe in a few days.’
‘Give Kristina my regards,’ I said.