It's Called Adrenochrome

Shortly after Louie disappeared, Brenda’s parents were killed in a freak accident involving a wealthy brat and his father’s Bentley. Brenda, lonely and depressed, went looking for Louie and after only a few months, found him safe and sound. A little skinnier than she remembered but she fattened him up easy enough. Louie cured her in a way only Louie could muster, and they fell back in love. They never married but before they knew it, they were living happily as qualified common-law spouses. Together they carved out a decent horse ranch over the last decade or so in the old growth Sequoia Redwoods on the beautiful and secluded northern Mendocino Coast of California. The ranch is a couple of miles uphill off Highway 1, about ten miles north of small-town Fort Bragg, California. They have a fine house, a good-sized hay barn, plus an early model Airstream Land Yacht converted into a guest house. And they have horses: five Quarter Horse geldings plus five mares, three Arab mares, and one Tennessee Walker Stallion. Only Louie and Brenda get to ride the Walker, the rest they use in the horseback riding outfit they started for the tourists.

Rog Blackard, Louie’s young friend and harum-scarum ward from back in the day when Louie was the Head Horse Wrangler for the Blackard Horse & Cattle Ranch, showed up at their place unexpected about two years ago and has stayed in the Airstream ever since. Rog hired on as Head Wrangler and Trail Guide for Lost Coast Outfitters. He’s good with horses but he’s also pretty good with a computer. The horse ranch is situated in a beautiful location with a million-dollar view of the Northern California coast overlooking a cove called Elephant Rock.

Louie, Brenda, and Rog take small groups of tourists for horseback rides through the Redwood and Giant Fern Forests and along the White Sandy Beaches of the Mendocino Coast a few times a week. In practical terms, the horseback riding business is a bust, a total failure, not at all profitable. The outfit hemorrhages money every month. But like most folks in these parts, Louie and Brenda’s primary occupation is not providing horseback rides for tourists; it is farming the local cash crop. The local crop that grows to premium world-class levels in the unique California coast conditions of old growth redwood forests and ancient black robust soil continuously hydrated by misty ocean coastline fog is marijuana. Pot grows very well on the Lost Coast. Humbolt is the pot growing headquarters of the USA. The horseback riding business is the front Louie and Brenda use to launder the cash they collect from pot buyers all over the world. The clandestine business of growing pot is a cash only enterprise.

Louie went to Fort Bragg earlier this morning to pick up some supplies. Driving his brand-new 1995 Jeep Cherokee up the old logging road on the mountain to their place, he passes the sign he put up five years ago at the junction of the logging road and their driveway:

LOST COAST OUTFITTERS

Guided Horseback Tours

Fort Bragg, California

Two miles —>

Louie parks his Jeep, pets each of their six dogs, then quickly enters the large shingled classic coastal four-bedroom, two-story home that he and Brenda with Rog’s help are perpetually remodeling. The home was so rundown when Louie and Brenda first purchased it with Brenda’s settlement money that critters lived inside.

Rog and Brenda are at the dining table in front of a roaring fire filling out fake Horseback Riding Injury Waivers. They use the fake waivers as proof of horseback rides to justify the cash from pot sales that they deposit weekly. It’s a tedious task to fill out the fake Injury Waiver forms. Rog ordered phone books from 50 major cities which they use to come up with unique names and addresses. They keep the waivers up-to-date and handy in the office file cabinets for if and when they ever get audited.

“Whatcha all doing?” Louie asks.

“Whaddaya think?” Brenda replies sleepily, “Filling out waivers.”

“What’d we collect today?”

Rog looks up the day’s exact amount from his ledger, “Six thousand, eight hundred thirty-seven.” The ledger is handwritten and encrypted using a scheme that only Rog understands.

Louie grimaces, he seems upset, “Don’t deposit all that. Gotta keep it under five grand, damnit, or red flags will start waving at the bank. A bank audit means we get bumped up on Sheriff Callers real list and there won’t be squat he can do about it.”

“Louie,” Brenda says softly, “you’re preaching to the choir. We know. Calm down. What’s eating you?”

“Gah. Sorry. I’m as anxious as a pasture sour gelding insight of a saddle at the moment. I ran into Sheriff Callers today. We’re next on the fed’s raid list.”

“What?!” she exclaims, “We just got raided, like, I dunno, not too long ago.”

“I know it seems that way. In actuality, it’s been over a year… so our turn is up. He’s planning it for end of next week… we got until then to move inventory. I am not in the mood for this.”

“Fuck.” She says, “Okay, well. It is what it is.”

“It’s a scam, is what it is” Rog says, “The feds know this community relies on the cash crops. And they know that if they wanted to, they could shut us all down and throw each and every one of us into prison on any given Sunday if they wanted. Sheriff Callers running fake raids out of formality just to keep the feds happy is dangerous. Something could go wrong; someone could get shot. Plus! Those helo goons purposely drop the bundles into the deepest gorges they can find just to make it difficult for us. Climbing down in there to get our own property back is risky as fuck.”

“That’s why we make the big bucks,” Brenda says, then adds, “I’ll get Brad and Jen to help us start bundling tomorrow.”

“They come by today and drop off a load?” Louie asks.

“Yeah, they did.” Brenda replies, “Ugh, what a mess she’s become. I don’t think she’s bathed in a week.”

“I went up there yesterday to remind them to make the drop today, and man oh man, how do they live like that? I don’t think their generator is working. Or maybe they sold it.”

“It’s that nasty tweak shit they’re smoking,” Rog says “that shit fries your brain. I don’t know why anybody would mess with that crap. Do you know how they manufacture it?”

"I hear they use bug spray. And mercury. And nuclear waste.” Brenda replies.

“I can’t even talk to Brad anymore.” Louie says, “He doesn’t make sense. We need to start phasing them out of the loop. Don’t cut them off all at once. They might retaliate. Just a little at a time.” He takes a long breath, “Fuck. I hate this shit. I’m seeing more and more of that poison up here every month. We need to run the suppliers the hell out of here.”

“We sure as fuck do.” Brenda adds.

“Yeah, but the last thing we want to do, realistically, is start battling with the Ese’s.” Louie says. “Speaking of Ese’s…” He continues, “Those people who bought that big fancy winery out there by Lari’s place… what’s it called?

“Lost Coast Winery” Rog says, “the buyers are supposedly from Hollywood.”

“Yeah, those folks. Hollywood people. I had a burger with Lari today and she told me about another new designer buzz showing up around town.”

“Oh, great. Just what we need” Brenda complains.

“No, this drug is supposed to be good. Better than weed. Made naturally from organic ingredients. It’s hell of expensive so it’s out of reach of the Brad and Jen types. Lari said she got some at a party the Hollywood people threw. She said it was the best shit she ever had and the buzz lasted three days.”

“Party? They had a party already? How come we weren’t invited?” Brenda wonders.

“Not our type, Brens,” Louie tells her.

“They invited Lari, why not us?”

“Because Lari lives next door, it’s good PR to invite your neighbors to your loud parties. That way, if they come to the party then they can’t complain about the noise and if they don’t come then they still can’t complain because they got invited but turned it down. Anyway… I’m thinking, based on how Lari described it, I’m thinking I’d like to try this new drug.”

“Stop.” Brenda warns him.

“Just to see if it’s as good as folks say.” Louie explains. He turns to Rog and says, “You and Sloan spent some time in Hollywood, right?”

“No, we did not.” Rog replies, rather boorishly.

“Oh, I thought you did. Anyway, they call the drug Kodachrome or something like that.” Louie says.

Brenda notices the sudden change in Rog’s demeanor, “Rog, you look like you just seen a ghost.”

“Stay away from that shit.” Rog warns.

“Then you’ve heard of it?” Louie asks.

“Yes, I have heard of it.” Rog says quietly, “It’s called adrenochrome.”