Crack the Spine Issue 96 - Page 12

Corey Pentoney Curtains I stared at the hollowed-out speaker. It was one of those fivefoot-tall floor speakers with fake wood sides. The kind you see sitting by the side of the road or at a Salvation Army. Not the kind anyone actually used. It was lined with tinfoil and a UV lamp hung from the top. Arty had cut a hole for a vent hose in the back, which ran out the window. A fan at the end of the hose would keep the air moving and the smell from gathering too heavily in his tiny, cluttered apartment. At the bottom of the speaker was a bucket of water with fertilizer in it, and a little plant, about five inches tall, stood straight out of substrate floating just on top of the water. “You're an idiot,” I said. Arty just grinned. He was proud of the work he'd put into the thing. “Mike gave me the cut for free,” he replied, as if it would explain everything away. Mike was a co-worker of his at the Lobster Pit. “Said he just wanted a few ounces when it was ready.” “You're an idiot,” I repeated. “You don't think your neighbors will notice the smell?” “That's what the fan is for. No one's going to pay attention to the smell of a little pot wafting out of the window.” He finished off his C