I'd never met Aunt Cheryl before the two of them greeted me at the airport and hustled me and my things into their Volkswagen bus and drove me out winding country roads to their place. I didn't feel unwelcome. They were both friendly and seemed glad to have me around. I figured, what the hell, it may be a nice nine months at that. I just hoped the schools here weren't fucked up and that my 3.8 average would transfer over to the local college once classes started in September.

They had a nice place, a big old house they'd fixed up. It was so quiet you could hear birds singing in the gathering darkness, a whip-poor-will call over and over again in the distance, the occasional hoot of an owl, and the chirp of crickets. I could smell grass and pine trees. It was a far cry from Cleveland Heights to Colorado, but I was here, and I could hack it.

"You must be worn out, Elizabeth," Aunt Cheryl suggested. We'd been sitting in the big old, high-ceilinged living roam, sipping mellow Burgundy from a jug, and eating cheese and crackers, a little after-dinner snack. All that was lacking, in my opinion, was a fat heady joint to get us all really mellow, but I didn't know if they'd appreciate me bringing out my stash and offering it around. Since they didn't offer me any, I wasn't sure how they felt about the stuff. Later, I thought, I'll have a joint to settle me down for bedtime.

Bedtime had arrived. "I have to be up pretty early myself," Aunt Cheryl continued, "so maybe we should all think about turning in."

I wasn't tired at all, but I nodded. I was a guest, after all, and just because I felt like raving on till morning I shouldn't expect that everyone else felt the same way. "Guess that makes two of us," I agreed, standing up. I finished my glass of wine, smacked my lips, and helped Cheryl pick up the leftovers.

She was a pretty lady, this aunt of mine. She smiled a lot, and she had longish hair, so straight it looked as if she ironed it every night.