Chapter Seven

--October, 1968

Iron Butterfly – “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida”

Around the time the nights got longer and the neighborhood kids went out trick-or-treating, Bill Benson sat on the basement stairs being anti-social. He was dressed as the Lone Ranger because with the mask on, no one could tell that he was staring at Simone. She stood across the room dressed as Barbara Eden, stoned out of her mind, smoking with Cody. Bill could hear only snatches of their conversation. They talked about how, as an aspiring model, Simone had been going to photo shoots in the city. Apparently, Cody said something funny because Bill could see her exposed stomach clenching with every laugh.

“Stop it!” Janet hollered in Bill’s face as she plopped down beside him. Her face was painted green like the Wicked Witch.

“Stop what?” Bill said, annoyed more than anything.

“That thing you do - that people watching thing! It's creepy!”

“I wasn’t looking at anyone...”

Janet followed his line of sight, right past Simone to Amy O’Dell. “Yes, you were. You were looking at your girlfriend and I think it’s sweet!”

Sensing she was being talked about, Amy looked up from tuning her acoustic guitar and eagerly waved at Bill.

“I wasn’t looking at her!” Bill blurted out.

Afraid that Amy had heard, Janet lowered her voice to hiss at her brother. “What is your problem?!”

But Bill was incredulous. “I don’t have a problem. I just see her falling in love with me... and I feel...” He tried to come up with the words but couldn’t.

“What?”

“Well... nothing.”

“How long have you felt like this?”

“The whole time.”

“You’ve got to tell her!”

“No, I don’t.”

Janet moved to get up. “Then, I’ll tell her--”

“Like hell you will--” Bill pulled his sister back down onto the stairs.

“This isn’t right, Bill!”

“Yeah? Who asked you?”

Maggie stood nearby, dancing sensuously to the Hendrix record that was playing. She was dressed skimpily in a tube top, a pair of hot pants and a choker necklace. “You know, Bill, if you’re done with Amy, I happen to be free...”

“You’re always free, Maggie.”

Maggie scoffed. Janet was quick to stand up for her. “Bill! What the hell!”

“I’m just saying you’re only supposed to date one person at a time.”

“Are you calling me a whore?” Maggie cocked a hand on her hip, waiting for an answer.

“I mean, look at what you’re wearing--” Before Bill could finish speaking, Maggie was beating him about the face and chest.

Over on the couch, Cody rolled a series of new joints, but kept losing weed in the shag carpeting. It would land down near his moccasins, forcing him to lean over and pinch it out of the carpet fibers. As he came up with nearly a dimebag’s worth, the Mod Squad went to commercial and a drive-in trailer for a movie called “Night of the Living Dead” came on. John Birch, who had taken great pains to resemble Abbie Hoffman, leaned over to get Cody’s attention, pointing. “You know what this movie’s really about, right?”

“It’s not about zombies?” Cody had a roach clip necklace that kept going out whenever he’d get lost in thought.

“No man, it’s a metaphor! For what black people go through in this country.”

“Jesus Christ...”

“Look what they do to anyone who resists! Anyone who takes on the establishment--”

“Yeah, like the Mod Squad!”

“I’m serious! If they can kill preachers and senators and get away with it then who won’t they kill?!”

Bill held Maggie at bay long enough to interject, “J.B, they caught both those shooters!”

“Yeah, and if you believe that then I got a bridge to sell you...”

Cody decided to have some fun. “If I could vote I’d probably vote for Nixon--”

J.B. stared at him, mouth agape. “What?! Why?!”

“He’s anti-war!”

“How do you know that?! He won’t debate!”

“Because he’s too good at it. It would be unfair.”

“I honestly cannot tell if you’re fucking with me.”

“I would never...”

Bill managed to duck Maggie once again. “He lost in ’60 and he’s up against the V.P. He’s not going anywhere J.B, calm down--”

“I’m not the one who needs to calm down, it’s this asshole!”

Cody took the biggest of hits and held it in, wincing. “Why am I an asshole?!”

“Because you fried your last brain cell! The fact that you are a few short years from voting should scare the rest of America!”

Cody laughed and picked a speck of green from his tongue.

Furious that he couldn’t get a rise out of Cody, J.B. continued, “I mean, I know your father didn’t teach you better--”

Cody’s head shot up and the room got quiet. Before anything could happen though, Matt got between them and led J.B. away. “Come on, don’t say that. You know what his home life is like...”

J.B. sighed and reluctantly nodded. When he was sated, Matt took his spot back on the couch where Janet gazed adoringly at her boyfriend. “You’re so damn sweet, just when I think you can’t get any sweeter!” She showered Matt with kisses until he turned to make out with her. They went at it for a few moments before Janet broke it off, suddenly--

“Ugh, that’s disgusting!!!” Everyone followed her gaze to see Bludgeon shitting on the basement carpet, his elderly, hind legs spasming from the strain.

“Oh, Jesus!” Bill yelled up the basement stairs. “Ma, Bludgeon’s B.M-ing all over the basement!”

The sound of Sandra walking across the kitchen floor above them filled their ears as she called down the stairs. “Then clean it up – you know where the borax and sponge are!” The older the dog got the more contempt she seemed to have for it.

Bill dropped his face in his hands at the prospect of such grunt work. “Mom, can't you do it? I’ve got people over...”

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“He is your dog William Randall! I am not picking up after him!” And with that, she slammed the basement door.

Aware of the eyes on him, Bill crossed to the spillover sink next to the washing machine and loudly fished out a bucket and a roll of dust-covered paper towels. He wore a grim frown as he attended to the stain. To add insult to injury, the person nearest to him was Simone. She peered down at him as he cleaned up the dog shit, a look of disgust upon her face. Bill let it wash over him.

As he slowly made progress, Glen Tonche came in from the garage door, a balled-up lunch bag in his hand. “I got it! The guy tried to fuckin’ stiff me too, but I got it!”

Matt clapped his hands together. “Man of the hour!”

The others moved down as Glen pushed his way onto the couch. He pulled a beat-up tin of Altoids out of the bag and popped the top off. Bill looked over to see ten or so dusky-looking Cheshire Cat stamps. Murmurs of “score!” “fuckin-a!” and “bitchin!” circled the room. Even J.B. forgot he was angry for a moment, saying, “Does anyone else love Glen right now?”

Maggie inched closer to the Falcon on the couch. “I’m startin’ to warm up to him.”

As everyone crowded around, Bill returned the soap bucket to the sink and noisily washed his hands, making a chore of it. Amy finally had to walk over and lead him back to the group. “Come on...” she said, pulling him towards Glen. Bill reluctantly took a seat next to him and waited as the guy lifted a square to his mouth.

At the last second though, Bill grabbed his wrist. “What do I do?”

“You fuckin’ eat it. You don’t do anything. It takes care of the rest.”

Bill nodded and let go. Cody just continued to hold his arm out. “I’m not feeding you, you can take it.” He dropped the tab in Bill’s hand. After a moment of hesitation, Bill swallowed it and washed it down with his beer. He leaned back next to Amy to wait.

“When does it start?”

“Soon.”

“Yeah man, just relax.” John Birch said, laughing. “I knew this one kid - no kidding - he got so high he thought himself to death.”

Matt shook his head, smiling. “Such a liar!”

“I’m tellin’ the truth! He was havin’ a bad trip and he just had a bad fuckin’ brain anyway, man. I also knew this other kid who chewed off his own lips because he thought they were getting in the way of his breathing!”

Janet playfully kicked at his leg. “Shut up! You’re gonna scare people!”

A few seats down, Bill sat frozen on the couch, a look of fear on his face as stark as night. Maggie took pity on the kid. “Ignore him, Bill. I’ve taken it before and there’s nothing to be worried about.”

It was quiet in the room until she suddenly screeched with delight. “I’ve got a great idea! Let’s go to the fair!” she cried.

“Oh, my lord! Yes!”

“The carnival would be amazing on acid!”

Bill sucked in a deep breath as everyone went for their coats.

After a coin flip, it was decided that J.B. would drive everyone. They piled into his Lincoln with the couch seats, the one with the “I’ve gone to pot” bumper sticker on it. Amy and Bill were the last two to climb in and Bill found himself pushed next to Simone. He tried to breathe normally, but as J.B. pulled out of the driveway, Bill held onto the back seat for dear life, a horrible stomach drop feeling taking over his thoughts. While everyone else was having a gay old time, Bill couldn’t stop focusing on the bad. It was made worse time and time again by Amy, who kept trying to take his hand. He was running out of ways to pull it free...

He snuck a glance at Simone. She and Cody had their heads leaned back, looking out the window, as he pointed out the different constellations. With her gaze diverted, Bill let his eyes dance over her body. Her Jeannie get-up was almost too much to bear. He was elbow-to-elbow with her gossamer sleeves, her hand just inches away. Slowly, he extended his pinky out to touch hers. He was breathless. Just as they were about to touch, Amy took his other hand in hers, asking “you feelin’ okay?” Bill nodded, silently.

By the time they arrived at Memorial Field, he was falling apart. The crowds didn’t help.

Despite being Halloween night, there were hundreds of people milling about the ten-acre park. Once they were on line for the Tilt-a-whirl, Amy rested her head on Bill’s shoulder. When he didn’t reciprocate though, she looked up and noticed his thousand-yard stare. “You alright?” she asked. “You’ve been kinda’ quiet...”

He tried to sound the words out. “I’m... I’m scar—"

But the Carnival barker was already waving them forward with a booming, “Next in line?!”

Amy hopped forward smiling, arm-in-arm with Bill. “That’s us!” She handed the carnie their tickets and pulled Bill up after her onto the hot neon pulsating ride. They quickly found seats, but as the metal bar came down on their car, Bill’s eyes rolled back into his head. Amy was so determined to have fun she hardly even noticed.

There was the groan of unoiled machinery as the ride started and the lights and the music both kicked in. Everyone else seemed to be having a ball, peaking at just the right time. But as the track whipped them about, Bill couldn’t hold it in any longer. He gripped the sides of his car and vomited. With the velocity of the ride, though, and the torque with which they were currently turning, the vomit had nowhere to go -- but back up into his face.

When the spinning mercifully ended a few minutes later, Bill came down off it wobbly, his hair wet and his t-shirt moist. Amy rubbed his back with nothing but concern in her eyes.

Cody was the first to catch sight of Bill. “What happened to you?!”

Amy explained, “Billy got sick.”

“Gross.”

“Shut up, Cody!”

Bill tried to mumble, “I think it was something I ate…”

“Yeah man, acid! We’re gonna go on the coaster. Are you coming?”

Bill caught sight of his sister. “I need to go home,” he said. He realized that the Carnival was a lot like life. It was supposed to be fun, but wasn’t.

Janet considered what he had said, then watched as Glen Tonche started talking to her boyfriend. She turned back to Bill, quickly. “Well, J.B. drove and no one else has a car, so you’re gonna have to wait. Just go sit down while we go on a couple more rides. Then we’ll leave.”

“No, I need to leave now...”

“I’m sorry, Bill. But you can’t rain on our parade.” She ran after her friends, leaving Bill and Amy alone. Amy led her boyfriend to the nearby Fun House and sat him on a bench just outside of it.

“I’m gonna catch up with the others. Will you be okay?”

Bill didn’t respond.

“Here are a couple tickets if you wanna go on any rides.” She held out a string of tickets, but Bill didn’t move to take them, so she just draped them around his neck. Giving him a kiss on the forehead, she patted his back one last time and headed off.

Once she was gone though, Bill realized he was truly alone. He looked around, frightened. The carnival lights bled into the night air as repetitive accordion music droned on and on. His eyes were dilated, only brief glimpses of the real world getting through. His imagination kept setting images rippling into horrible falsities.

Getting up, he stumbled along the festival grounds, soon finding himself at the garishly lit Hall of Mirrors. A tall Clown stood by the entrance taking tickets. Bill stepped forward, warily.

“Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” the Clown asked.

“I need a ride…” Bill said, his eyelids fluttering.

The Clown looked him up and down. “It’s five tickets to enter.”

The words echoed terribly. “What?”

“I said, ‘All your friends are going to laugh at you.’” The Clown took a live rat out of his pocket and started to eat it. Bill gritted his teeth and started to shake. The Clown, in turn, snapped five tickets off of Bill’s neck and waved him through.

As Bill tripped his way inside, he noticed a tinny version of “Camptown Races” playing over the broken loudspeaker. He ran through the corridors, fleeing from his own reflection. He hated the way he looked. Every time he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, he ran faster. He followed the twists and turns until finally he cornered himself and couldn’t go any further.

Turning around, he saw his image. His visage -- that was what they called it. It was horrible... He punched it. Glass shattered and splintered his hand.

He turned back around and there he still was. He punched with his other hand. When he saw the damage it caused, he screamed. “I can’t remember how to breathe!”

Out on the fairgrounds, his friends were climbing down from their coaster ride when they heard Bill screaming. A moment later, he came tearing out of the Hall of Mirrors covered in blood, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Somebody kill me!!!”

**

The next day, Bill sat on his living room couch, hands bandaged. He was deeply pale with a blanket draped across his lap. His mother sat next to him, rubbing his head. “There, there...” she kept saying over and over again.

Bill sputtered. “I’m such a fuck-up...”

But Sandra wouldn’t hear it. “Hey now, none of that talk! You are special. You are different from everyone else and you will never be the same.” Her words seemed to have the opposite of their desired effect on Bill.

There was a knock at the door. As Sandra got up to see who it was, Lynn approached her older brother, cautiously. “Mom said you did drugs. That’s why you’re like this?”

Bill nodded. “Yep.”

“But only bad people do drugs.”

He nodded again. “Yep…”

Before Sandra could reach the door, Amy poked her head inside. “Hi. Can I come in?”

“Of course, Amy dear.” Sandra helped her out of her coat and the two of them shared a quiet word together.

“How’s he doing?” Amy asked.

“He’s good, I think. A little shook up...”

“Can I talk to him?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—"

But Bill cut her off. “--It’s fine, Mom.”

Sandra was about to object, but instead just wrung her hands. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” She said, before leaving the room.

Amy took her place on the couch as Bill sat up, weakly. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” he asked.

Amy laughed, unsure of the question. “Why was I worried?”

“No. Why are you here?”

Amy shrugged. “You’re my boyfriend. I was worried about you.”

“Exactly. What kind of girl are you that you'd stay with me after something like this?”

Amy stared at him as if she couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of his mouth. “What?”

“Just go,” he said. “We’re done.”

Amy shook her head in disbelief, but Bill wasn’t having it. “Come on now, don’t make a scene...”

But her eyes had already started to mist up. “Are those tears?” he asked.

Amy ran her hands quickly over her face. “Don’t worry. They’ll stop soon. You’re not worth it--”

“Did I make you cry?”

“What do you think?!”

“Why would you cry over me?!”

But Amy couldn’t hear him anymore. She ran off, bawling. On her way out the door, she passed Janet coming in from outside. “Hey, Ames—" But Amy blew right past her.

Janet turned back to Bill. “What did you do?!”

But he just kept staring at the front door. “I can’t believe it...”

“What happened?!”

“We broke up.”

“Why’d you do a stupid thing like that?!”

Bill turned to face his sister, his face suddenly hard. “None of this would have happened if you just drove me home!”

Janet gaped at him. “Oh, so it’s my fault?!”

“Yes!” Bill screamed.