Decisions

Decisions As March christens the half way point in the beautiful state of Oregon, only twenty miles away from Portland. Zack a former flower child of the sixties was home on a Friday afternoon in his small rundown three bedroom ranch style home in the secluded countryside. His mind was stirring with the velocity of a small cyclone, as he ponders what to do about bills, being that he was just let go from his job of fifteen years due to company downsizing. While pacing about the house he realized he needed some fresh air to clear his mind, and reattain focus, Zack exited the house through the handle-less, rickety, screen door at the back of the house and headed towards the old shed in the yard. The shed was an old version of an undersized barn, red in color that has a substantial fade do to age and the years of exposure to the elements. It was built in the early seventies and leaned to the left like that famous tower they are so proud of in Italy. As the walk progress through the knee high pale, wispy, green grass, a familiar stench much resembling that of a frightened skunk filled the air. Zack turned the corner of the the old shed, and his face melted like a Salvador Dali image, in utter disbelief. A small plantation of six foot tall, lime green, five and seven leafed, plants gleamed into his cornea's. The door to a bedroom in the house swiftly opens, with a stern voice bellering out “Franklin Ringlinder, what the hell is wrong with you'” A red headed, skinny, ginger boy appears from under the rainbow colored, unicorn comforter on the bed in the corner, “what are you blabbing about dad'” “what the hell do you growing behind my shed kid'” Frank surprisingly responds without a bit of remorse, “That's my weed dad.” “You know I could lose my house for this, and you could end up in prison!” “Dad I'm not going to get caught, hell, you didn't even know it was in your own yard.” Zack just shakes his head in total disbelief, “Well how about you get out of bed and follow me out to the shed so we discuss this.” “fine I'll meet you out there in few minutes when I get dressed.” Five minutes pass as Frank rolls around the corner of the shed skuffing his feet on the wispy grass, making a skwoosh, skwoosh sound. “Frank” says his father in a low monotone voice, “Explain yourself.” “Well I needed money to get a new car for college, So, I decided to think smart and make the most money possible, while doing the least amount of work.” Again, Zack shakes his head, while trying to grasp the reality of what's truly going on. “Dad.” “What'” “I make $6,400 dollars a month, You should be proud of me!” “Are you kidding me right now'” “Dad, Lets be realistic right now, The economy sucks, you lost your job, and I'm hitting up this cash camel before the bubble bursts.” “Seriously dad, you have bills and no job, why don't you join in with me and we can split the profits'” “What so we both can go to prison, Are you a complete space case Frank!” “No, I'm just a realist with the means to solve things, my way works, and works well, deal with it!” “I'm cutting this shit down before you ruin both our lives!” “The hell you are!” “Oh you just watch me, This is my property.” “Not if you don't pay the mortgage, and I don't see you doing that with no job, now can you!” As Zack's head glares at the ground, his body frozen like a statue, as these words come out, “I'm not happy about this at all, but, I'm going to cool off and think about this.” “What, Like really, you're gonna think about doing this'” Zack's head shakes in a left to right direction, with his arms thrown up in the air as he walks back toward the house in silence. Zack and Frank decide to start their inquisitive journey to find the most legal way to game plan their future endeavors to conquer the recession or rather depression that the illustrious United States is unfortunately blessed with. Zack was definitely caught off guard by this situation, but wasn't as close minded as most would be due to the fact that he grew up in the sixties and at one point indulged in the movement of that era. Ultimately he decided to research the pros and cons of the situation which unfolded upon his life. The internet, being what is has become today, created what some will likely call the information age. The information age is such a wondrous thing with almost limitless sources of knowledge and resources literally at the fingertips of everyone. Zack inquired on the legality issues of the small plantation that his son had blessed his property with, as well as the incarceration duration that would follow upon the fluke luck of local law enforcement coming to visit. Further more the search continued to the profitability margins of the previously accessed product, and means of dispersal with the least amount of risk available. Through this research Zack discovered how much of a bubble was created with the local level legalizations that had been acquired by multiple states in the surrounding areas. This of course lead Mr. Ringlingder to the dispensary aspects of the industry. Zack was very leery of the idea, however in the same regards, understood the bubble concept, as well as the profitability margin, which by the way had far surpased what he initally anticipated. He had also found out that they would not distribute the product on a small scale because he could expedite it to one person or rather business, and while doing this, would never actually have to drive anywhere with the product. The dispensaries have a high volume need for product, thus they would send a delivery person to his place of residence to acquire said product. This of course is when the journey to acquire an agreement with a local dispensary began. In downtown Portland, Zack and his son pulled up to the dispensary and entered the front door, only to be amazed at the sight's of the business. It gleamed of professionalism, and the idea Zack once held of the legalities of the industry soon faded. “Hello” said David, the dispensary owner. Zack rebuttal “Wow, what a set up you have here” “Yeah it is quite amazing, we have come along way in a short time, come on back and I'll show you the shop and process role you will hopefully be playing” “Sounds great” says Zack As Zack, Frank, and David proceed through a door that reminds him of a vault door at a bank. The room was filled with bags of product, microscopes, and large digital scales. There's four employees in this forty foot by forty foot processing area, with what appears to be a rather busy staff. As David is about to elaborate on the intake process of the product, they hear a lot of commotion and yelling coming from the from of the store followed by some very loud banging on the entry door to the rear processing room with the a voice shouting, “Open up DEA!” “Shit we're being raided” says David. “Are you serious” responds Zack. As Frank eyes open like a deer caught in headlights, “This isn't good dad” David walks towards the door with a pale glow on his face “I'm opening it, hold on”, “And you two, don't do anything, just stay right there and don't worry you wont be in any trouble” Zack opens the door and a swarm of agents all dressed in black storm the room. “Get on the floor now” “Hands out, legs spread, now!” Everyone in the room complies with the demands made by the DEA agents, as the head agent takes David off to the side to talk. “My name is Casey and I'm sure you know why we're here and what we intend to do.” “Yes I do officer, but these two over here are just potential clients, can they just get out of here'” “Yes, after they have been searched we will release them.” “right on, thank you so much.” After being searched and lectured a bit by the head agent, Zack and Frank were released to go on their way. Both with the look of the walking dead on their faces ambitiously head to their car being completely silent. As they get in the vehicle both turn their heads and say “Holy shit”, simultaneously. “That was intense dad.” “Yeah tell me about it, we are luck as hell kid.” “What do you mean lucky.” “You know damn well what I mean.” “Are you serious, you knew that was a realistic possibility.” “Yeah maybe I did, but now that the fear became a reality, I am done.” “Done, what, come on dad.” “You heard me, I want that crap out of my yard tonight!” “Dad come on, really'” “By tonight!”