Douglas Cole
	Nowhere          Jalal laid out a fat line of coke, leaned back grinning and said, "There you go."          I bent forward and put the straw down and whoofed half of it. I went blind for a moment and pressed my fingers against my temples, yawning and twisting my head. Then I went down and did the rest.          Mary and Shanda were smiling. I'd done a good one. Then they each did a line, too.          Jalal was lining it up faster than we could snort it, while I poured shots of Gusano Rojo, swirling the little worm around that lay at the bottom waiting for us to arrive. We had some Steely Dan going, and the apartment door was open. Warm rich air full of the smell of jasmine drifted in, along with the sound of howling traffic just five feet away on the 10 freeway.          Jalal and I went out into the courtyard and we each lit a cigarette, which was the next thing to do after a line and a shot. No one else in the complex was up, now. We weren't blaring the music or anything, but we had those loud drunk voices. Everything had that sheen, that buzzing glow like seeing through a movie lens in delayed time. On the other side of the fence, cars went by like bullets.         We walked around the courtyard and over by the black iron gate surrounding the pool. The water sent out rippling electric bolts of blue and white reflection waves across the stucco walls of the buildings. What the hell were those huge twisted plants with killing needle points? They were made to kill. Or better yet, they had made themselves into killers. They had adapted themselves into plants that could kill. I was saying this to Jalal.          "That represents a kind of consciousness, don't you think?"          Jalal was from Morocco and his English was not too good, so I was not sure he understood exactly what I was saying. I asked him. "Do you see what I'm saying?"          "Yeah. That plant coo kill you."          "That's right." I nodded fiercely. At least we were in agreement on this. I interrogated Jalal's face, his passive grin, his veiled eyes. Perhaps no threat. No killing. No adaptations tonight. I was not prone to that kind of thought. It was just a word association going through my head. The world tweaked on its axis. I righted it.          "I like the way you and Mary..." Jalal was searching for the right word, but I knew what he meant.          "I know what you mean," I said.          "No, I mean, with Shanda. I am going to stay with just one woman, now. That. You, for you it's good?"          "Great," I said. Mary and I ha