Chapter Twenty-One

-- March, 1973

Big Star – “The Ballad of El Goodo”

In the steam-filled, second-floor bathroom of the largest dorm on campus, Nick Benson smoked a joint with his friend, Marco. They had turned the showers on to disperse the smoke and mix it with the steam.

It made sense when they were high.

Nick brought the number up to his peach fuzz lips and took a hit. Leaning back against the yellow tile, he began to exhale slowly when he suddenly heard Mr. McCaffrey, their dorm parent, going around doing surprise bunk inspections--

“Shit, it’s McCaffrey!” Nick said, coughing. “What’s he doing here, it’s the weekend! Doesn’t he have a life?!”

Marco pointed to the roach, still in Nick’s hand. “Get rid of it!”

Without thinking, Nick tossed the remains down the laundry chute and joined Marco in running out of the bathroom.

“What are you crazy?!” Marco yelled over his shoulder.

“You said ‘get rid of it!’”

“I meant flush it down the toilet!”

Somewhere in the bowels of the building, a lit marijuana cigarette landed in an industrial laundry hamper and started the Agony-Bishop fire of ’73.

**

The next day, Nick sat alone on a bench outside the Headmaster’s office. He stared blankly at the regal, blue carpet until his father emerged. William didn’t look happy. He sat down, wearily, next to his son. “I can’t do this again, Nicky. It took everything I had for them not to kick you out. As it stands, I gotta pay for an entire new wing to this building and dedicate another just to get you to stay.”

“I don’t wanna be here anymore.” Nick muttered.

William sighed, frustrated. “Well, we’re running out of options, kid. You’ve been kicked out of everywhere else...”

“I know.” Nick said, refusing to meet his father’s eye.

“They say you excel in art class. Is this about the reading? You’re not dumb, you know. A lot of people mix the letters up.”

Nick kneaded the floor in front of him with his shoes. “Sometimes I feel like my brain doesn’t work right...”

His father leaned in. “We could get you a tutor.”

But the boy just shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter. By the time I’ve caught up they’re already on to the next lesson.”

“Then what are we going do?” William asked.

Nick shrugged.

In the end, they sent him to public school, where he could fall through the cracks.

**

Two weeks later, Nick walked out of Summit High as the end of school bell rang. He was surrounded by his usual crowd of female admirers. He said his goodbyes to them and was just about to start walking home when he heard a car horn. Nick turned to see his brother’s friend, Cody, leaning on his bright red, hot rod.

Nick’s face lit up. “What’re you doing here?!” he asked.

Cody suppressed a smile. “Eh, you know, all my friends are off at college, so I thought I’d see what you were doing.”

“Cool.”

“You wanna go for a ride?”

Nick looked at the car. “In this?! Fuck yeah!”

“Well, it’s not the lunar rover, but it’ll do...”

Nick threw his books in the back and hopped in. “Bitchin! Now I won’t miss Bandstand!”

Cody pulled out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of burned rubber in his wake. He made the ten-minute drive to his house in just under three minutes. The roaring engine could be heard for blocks around. Swinging the wheel, he clipped the curb on his way into the driveway, but didn’t seem to care. He threw the parking brake on and climbed out of the car, leading Nick up the walk towards his three floor, pale blue gable-front home.

They entered the kitchen, deep in conversation. Cody explained, “It’s called ‘Midnight Cowboy’ and apparently the guys in it have sex with each other--”

Nick laughed. “How would that even work?!”

Cody shook his head, shrugging. He headed for the fridge, digging for snacks.

“What’re you guys doing?” The question came from Sheila, Cody’s little sister. She was a snaggle-toothed misfit who walked around under a depressed cloud. Even though she was overweight, she was quiet as the wind, having snuck up on the both of them.

Cody swatted her away. “Nothing! Get out of here!”

Nick laughed and jumped on the bandwagon. “Yeah, get out of here, doo-doo face!” Cody cackled. He loved the novelty of someone else putting his annoying sister in her place. Sheila gave Nick a once over before fading out of the room.

Cody pulled a plate of cookies from the fridge and put one in his mouth, talking around it. “Here, there’s something I want you to see,” he said, motioning for Nick to follow him.

In his father’s home office, Cody opened the door tentatively to make sure the coast was clear. When he saw that it was, he made his way over to his father’s desk. Nick followed after, unsure. The office was neat and sterile, no place for kids.

From one of the bookshelves, Cody pulled a dusky, beige hardcover. Nick saw the cover only briefly: “The Joy of Sex.” Cody flipped through the pages, explaining “This was just published. Have you heard of it?”

Nick shook his head. He took in the writhing illustrations, breathlessly. As he stared at the naked bodies with their generous amounts of pubic hair, Cody pointed at one of the couples. “That one’s my favorite.”

Nick nodded. After a minute or two, Cody returned the book to the shelf. He crossed back to his father’s desk. Under the day planner was a key. He fished it out and headed over to a nearby mahogany bureau.

“I call this the ‘Cabinet of Wonders.’” Cody said. He opened it and stepped back to give Nick the full view. There was row upon row of glass tanks filled to the brim with pills...

Like a candy shop...

“How?” Was all Nick could get out.

“My dad’s a surgeon.” Cody shared, proudly.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Nick’s eyes were moist. “You sure your dad’s not gonna come in?”

“No chance. My parents are never home. Well...” Cody said, waiting. “Take your pick.”

Nick reached for a bottle of bright yellow ones, but Cody stopped him. “No, that’s Nembutal. Those are yellow jackets. You don’t want that. That’ll make you fall asleep.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Then help me out...” Nick said, unable to choose.

Cody pointed. “Those are goofballs, they killed Marilyn Monroe. That’s Darvon, Halcion, couple Midnight Runners there...”

“How about these?” Nick pointed to another jar, one row down.

“Much better! Those are Seconals - you know, red devils?” Cody lifted the glass lid and took a handful.

A half hour later, the two of them laid sprawled out, immobile on the couch. Their jaws were slack, their breathing chemically slowed. They looked around the living room, blankly. After a moment of doing nothing, Cody said, “I think I’m starting to feel it.” Nick tried to nod but just ended up drooling.

On the T.V. in front of them, a movie of the week played. It was a repeat, “The Failing of Raymond.” The boys watched as Dean Stockwell went up behind his teacher, Jane Wyman, and began to strangle her with a rope. At the mere sight of this, Cody and Nick exploded into laughter. They had never seen anything so funny in all their life. They laughed until they were red in the face, braying like donkeys.

By the time the sun set, they were asleep on the couch, the T.V. blaring. Sheila peeked her head into the room and saw them snoring away. Creeping in, she turned the television off and was about to leave when she looked back one more time at Nick. She took a blanket from off the back of the couch and tucked him in for the night.

**

The trick to avoiding the Truant Officer when you were cutting class was to stick to the side streets. A kid walking alone drew too much attention, so it was best to dart from bush to bush. Nick was supposed to meet Cody’s connection today. He had been given specific instructions to rendezvous with Cody at the library and they would go on together from there. But when Nick arrived, Cody wasn’t waiting outside.

Nick was hesitant to enter; these places always had some kind of school function going on. What better way to get caught? Still, without Cody there would be no connection, and without a connection there would be no drugs. Screwing up his courage, Nick walked inside.

He realized with some surprise that he had never been in a library before. It wasn’t the dusty palace of boredom he was expecting. Instead, it was architecturally modern and newly renovated. Everything was beige and the air was still.

He found Cody standing to the side watching one of the librarians sing a song to a kindergarten class. “Hey! You said outside!” Nick whispered.

Cody waved him off. “Eh, I knew you’d find me.”

“Well, let’s go. They’re having standardized tests today. I’m not exactly allowed to be out and about.”

“Go where? We’re here.”

“What do you mean ‘we’re here?’”

Cody pointed. “That’s Travis.”

“The librarian?!” Nick looked at the man. He was clearly a hippie; a thirty-eight-year old with a beaten-up, train conductor’s hat sitting atop his frizzled, Roger Daltry hair. When he saw Cody, he waved and passed his tan acoustic guitar off to an older librarian, who had been sitting listening with the kids. Travis hurried over to Cody and Nick.

“Cody, my man!” he greeted him, quietly.

“Travis, this is my buddy, Nick.” Cody said.

Travis clasped Nick’s hand. “Right on, right on!” he said. “Any friend of Cody’s is a friend of mine.” He held the handshake for a little longer than normal, staring at Nick as if he were a snack.

When Travis finally spoke again, it was as if nothing amiss had happened. He clapped Cody on the back. “Man, this guy knows everything about space! What was that thing you were telling me?”

“About the oxygen tank exploding? Yeah, they had to use the moon’s gravity as a sling shot to get those astronauts home.”

“Fuckin’ far out, man.”

Travis stared off into nothingness. When he didn’t speak for a few moments, Nick and Cody exchanged puzzled looks. Eventually, Cody pierced the quiet: “So, you got the thing?”

“Oh yeah!” Travis blurted, whacking his forehead with an exaggerated thwap. He pulled a bottle with a stopper in it out of his overalls pocket and handed it to them, very out in the open.

Cody quickly pocketed the thing. “What’re you crazy?! Someone could see!”

Travis shrugged. “Act like you have a secret and people will think you have a secret.” Cody nodded and followed the advice. He handed his dealer a wad of cash. Travis blanched, “What are you nuts?! Handing me money is incriminating as hell!”

“Shit! Sorry! We’ll just go.”

“Well hey, wait a minute--” he grabbed Cody’s arm before they could get far. “Take it easy with that stuff. It’s top shelf - just a drop’ll do ya. It’s blotter acid, it’s not like the tabs.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“You got it. Now get someplace safe.”

**

With both their houses occupied, Cody and Nick headed into the woods. Their town bordered Watchung Reservation and Nick knew of a clearing where they wouldn’t be seen. When they got there, the boys took turns taking pulls off the bottle until it was empty. Then they sat down on a fallen log to wait it out.

They didn’t have to wait long. It came on quick, barely half an hour. And it was good too. Nick tried to relay a story about his brother and this stuff, but he kept forgetting his place and eventually gave up.

There was a thin layer of sweat on his upper lip and forehead and he wished he had brought something to drink. Because it was unseasonably warm. Especially in New Jersey, where winters usually lasted until May.

May....

May.

May was a weird word. And if you kept saying it, you kinda forgot what it meant.

Man, he could have really used some water. He wanted to ask Cody if he had any, but Cody was busy making snow angels in the dirt.

Nick saw a toad. A big, bumpy one with shades of purple and green. It looked wet enough. He had heard that if you licked a toad it got you high. He wouldn’t connect the strep-like infection he’d get a few days later to this incident. No, he most certainly would not. But he licked it anyway. It did nothing for his thirst unfortunately and he didn’t feel any different. If he was being completely honest, he felt a little crappy.

“Cody, let’s go get something to drink at 7-11.” But Cody was busy vomiting.

Nick stood. “It’s okay, I’ll come back for you.”

He left his friend and began the long walk into town. Walking was really tough if you focused solely on the mechanics of it. Nick got lost several times on his way out of the woods, doubling back each time to find the trail again. It was an elusive trail. It liked to hide from him. He even stopped to vomit himself, which he heard was good when you were on acid.

Or was that mushrooms? He’d ask Cody later.

It took the better part of an hour to find 7-11. As it came into focus, the familiar green and red of the logo seemed to Nick for the first time as unseasonably festive. Of course, there was a small hiccup when Nick remembered that he didn’t have any money. He’d given the rest of his to Cody. After weighing the pros and cons, Nick decided that stealing would be alright. That God would be okay with it. And if he was going to steal, he might as well steal a lot...

It was hard to focus on the words written on the drinks. Nick’s eyes kept rolling back into his head. When he did manage to look straight ahead, he noticed that the shop owner seemed to be following him. Instead of dealing with the situation directly, Nick decided to turn his back on the man. That seemed to do the trick.

When he had finally gathered the soda and snacks he wanted based on their vague shape alone, he made a run for it. It would have been much more dramatic, but the door was a pull, not a push. He ricocheted off the glass and clattered to the floor. Somehow, he only managed to lose half his stash in the process. Getting to his feet, he pulled the door open.

When he got clear of the exit, he ran like a man possessed, losing Ho-Ho’s and Little Debbie’s down suburban streets he kind of, sort of, remembered.

Convinced he was in the clear, Nick hid behind a bush and vomited some more. He drank a little soda and was beginning to think he was too high when the Truant Officer pulled up. “Where do you go to school?” he asked.

Nick left his food bounty behind the bush, just in case the guy might think he stole it or something. He swallowed hard and somehow managed to speak. “Summit High.”

“Don’t you boys have testing today?”

Nick was thinking about running, when the Truant Officer said, “Don’t do it.”

“Don’t do what?” Nick asked.

“Don’t run. You just said you were thinking about running.”

“I did?!”

The Truant Officer ran his hands over his hungover face. “Man, just get in the fucking bus.” Unable to think of an alternative, Nick finally obliged.

**

Wearing a shit-eating grin, Nick’s Principal told him what great timing he had. Nick was returned to school with mere seconds to go before the KAPTAs or the COMAs - or whatever the tests were called - were set to begin. The Principal dropped him off in the blue-tiled cafeteria with the other students.

Nick was given a test booklet he had to rip open to begin. He turned to the first page where a very solemn Native American stared back at him. The section was about reading comprehension, which he might have understood but the words were doing that thing they did back in the 7-11.

“You can do it,” said a voice.

Nick looked around. No one had spoken. He kept darting his head around, listening for sounds coming from the walls.

“Down here,” said the voice.

Nick looked down as instructed and found that the Indian (or were they not supposed to call them that anymore?) was talking to him.

Nick gulped. “Are you my spirit guide?”

The Indian considered him for a few moments. “Sure. Look, I know you’re high, Nick. Everyone else knows it too.”

Nick snuck a peek at the girl next to him who was busy staring at him, mouth agape. Nick slowly put his hand up to block her out. He returned his focus to the Indian, who continued: “There’s only one way to beat ‘em, Nick...”

“What’s that?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“You gotta ace this test.”

“Oh, easy...”

“It’s okay, I’ll help you. Now, look at the first question.” Nick focused really hard and was able to make the letters stand still. The question read: Which of these will ruin your life?

* a.) Papoose

* b.) You are way too high

* c.) Is that girl still looking at me?

* d.) Maize

He thought as hard as he could until he realized that it was a trick question. You were supposed to add an answer of your own! “It’s so simple!” He blurted aloud to multiple shushes.

When he vomited again, he managed to trap most of it in his standardized test. Leaving it on his desk, he excused himself to the bathroom.

**

He woke up several hours later in Cody’s living room, spread eagle on the couch. He had no idea how he’d gotten there but was grateful he wasn’t in school anymore. From the look of the setting sun, several hours had passed.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Sheila said, entering the room.

“How did I get here?” he asked.

“You must have been tired. You were sleeping on the porch when I came home from school. I let you in, don’t you remember?”

“Not really.” He said, propping himself up on his elbows.

Sheila tucked some hair behind her ear. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something?”

Nick thought about how empty his stomach was. “Okay yeah, I haven’t eaten since breakfast,” he said, rising. “Whattaya got?”

Sheila smiled and led him into the kitchen.