by A. R. Breck
Hundreds, and I mean hundreds of people sit in a large clearing. Small groups of people, people sitting alone, and huge groups of people make up the entire circle. The entire clearing. People with colorful clothing, topless women, and people of all ages fill the crowd. Smoke streams into the air, and taking a whiff, I feel comfort when I realize it smells like home.
More Marijuana.
"Here's home," Crow says, turning the ignition off on the car.
I look at my friends, although only Neil and Trish look back at me.
"You live here?" Neil asks.
Crow nods as he opens the door. "A lot of us do. Some travel and come back. A lot of people stay short-term, long-term, doesn't matter. This is home."
The sun is setting, and the trees are turning black in the shadows. Most people are barefoot as they walk around, and what looks to be a wild party is going on, or maybe it’s only just the beginning of one.
We all step out of the car, and music plays off into the distance. The same type of music that played in the car on the way up here, and I'm beginning to think it's part of their circle—Rainbow Circle—whatever, type thing.
We follow Crow and Danae into the clearing, my toes pressing into the dried grass. It crunches beneath my feet. There's a chill in the air higher up in the mountains. I wish I had more than just this scrap of fabric over my breasts and this threadbare skirt, but I don't. Most of what I had was left in the Winnebago.
Only a short while after we came to California, our Winnebago went missing. Neil was parking it on the side of the road, out of sight from the beach, just over on the other side with the houses and shops. It took maybe about a week. We weren’t sure where it went, and we had no way to look for it. Once it went missing, so did most of my clothes, and my rocks from Arizona.
My fingers go up, wrapping around my ballet slippers necklace. I'm glad I kept this on me. I've taken it off once or twice, only because I didn't want to lose it in the ocean if the clasp broke or something. But I kept it on the day our van went missing, and I'm so grateful I did.
The gold has faded from the sun and the salt over the years. I find myself clutching it at night, warming the slippers with my palm. I wonder why I don't just take it off, throw it in the woods, leave it in the desert, let it sink to the bottom of the ocean. But even taking it off is painful, and the thought of parting with it settles a panic in the pit of my stomach.
I shake my head, clearing my thoughts as I watch everyone talk to Crow, shaking his hand and shouting out a hello as he passes. It's like he's the top dog here or something. People worship him.
I walk past people who look like they're on another planet. They watch the trees, dazed out in their own world. My eyes widen as I pass a person fully naked, staring into nothing.
There's a blanket littered with items at one end of the circle. The music is louder here. Someone has a guitar, which is hard to look at. Music in general is painful.
It all reminds me of Roman.
Danae grabs a dropper and passes it to Crow. "Here you go, babe."
He takes it, tipping his head back and putting two drops on his tongue. He passes it to Neil.
"What is it?" he asks, tipping the small dropper and watching the clear liquid swirl around in the small tube.
"Acid." Crow's voice is lighter and heavier at the same time. He smiles at us, a loose grin on his face.
I look around, seeing everyone looking like they’re in a completely different dimension.
Is everyone on acid?
"How much do I take? Two drops? The entire thing?"
Danae puts up a finger. "Only one."
Neil shrugs, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. I watch his fingers push on the rubber top, my throat dropping into my chest as I watch the liquid dribble out, and one drop slip from the seal and onto his curled tongue. He holds the dropper out, and Willie grabs it, repeating Neil's actions. No hesitation, no worries. His scrunched face relaxes the moment the liquid hits his tongue.
I try to swallow, but the lump in my throat makes it difficult. Trish looks as hesitant as I do as she grabs the dropper from Neil. Her fingers are shaky as she clutches it in her grip. She looks at me, fear in her eyes. "What do you think?" she whispers.
I shake my head. I haven't taken drugs. Not since that night all those years ago on Roman's deck on New Year's Eve. Not a hit, not a drop, nothing. None of us really have, mostly just keeping to ourselves most of the time while we traveled.
But now we've ended up in the Rainbow Circle, with drugs and Deadheads surrounding us.
I knew that feeling in the pit of my stomach before we headed here, that hesitation and worry. That time is now. It's here. It’s this.
Without another thought, Trish tips her head back, dripping a small drop onto her tongue. She rolls it into her mouth. Her arm snaps out, the dropper ending in front of my chest. I take it, clutching the slippers around my neck with my other hand.
Where is Roman right now? What is he doing?
He wouldn't want me to do this.
But thoughts of Roman always lead me down a dark path, and today I don't want to end on my dark path. I close my eyes, tip my head back and squeeze the dropper, letting one drop settle on my tongue.
It tastes like nothing, and rolling it around in my mouth, it’s light, slightly oily as the substance covers my tongue. Nothing happens, though, and I anticipated flying to a different galaxy immediately. I’ve heard stories of acid over the years, how dangerous it could be if not taken correctly. How wild the high is. Worry lingers in the back of my mind. Uncertainty.
We all sit down in the grass, and I pass the dropper off to Danae. She takes two drops and settles it back with her things. Crow sits beside her, curling his arm around her waist as they sway to the music.
"When does it hit?" Neil asks.
"You'll come up soon. Just let it ride," Crow rumbles. He pulls out a joint, sparking it up and passing it around. Everyone takes it, smoking the joint down until it's a tiny roach pinched between my fingers.
I suck in, a cough hitting me before the smoke even fills my lungs. My finger burns as the cherry brushes my skin, and I wince as I pass it on, my eyes watering as a flush takes over my body.
And then I feel everything.
It feels like my body is morphing into something else. An animal, a plant, the entire earth. My hand raises and I settle down onto the grass, letting the long green blades brush against my legs and ankles, tickling my feet. They feel soft, soft like butter, cotton, air, as my fingers wrap around them. My palm swallows them, and it feels like my body ingests them.
Whoa.
I roll onto my back, looking up at the sky. Night has come, pushing the sunlight to the other end of the earth. The air is cool, brushing against my bare neck all the way to my feet. It feels like every breath I take lifts me off the ground. I feel suspended in the air, levitating above the earth as the world expands around me.
I close my eyes, seeing the galaxy reflected behind my lids. Every time I open my eyes, the sky lights up, the tips of the trees swaying in the mountain air. Then I close my eyes again, seeing each star I've memorized since I was a little girl.
I name them off, just as I always have.
Ursa Minor, Ursa Major, Cygnus, Cassiopeia, Draco.
The list goes on, and on, and on. I feel like I name off constellations for a century, each one morphing into something else. It's like the stars come to life, moving and creating a movie in the sky.
I watch.
I feel the grass crunch beneath me, sounding like it’s coming through loudspeakers. I look over, seeing Willie walk up to me.
"Feel it?"
I blink at him, not sure how to use my tongue. Not sure how to use my body at all.
It hit me at once.
He lies next to me, his body one hundred degrees as he sits flush against me. It feels too hot, like there are flames coming off his body. I look over at him, literally seeing flames curling around his clothes. He
doesn't flinch, like it's not even there. But it looks like it is, so it must be me.
I shuffle away from him, only an inch. I can tell he doesn't like this. His arm slings around my stomach, pulling me flush against him. His arm feels like a weight, like it's a million pounds of fire as it wraps around my naked stomach. I breathe, not sure how to use words right now. Not sure how to tell him that I don't want this.
Instead, I close my eyes, riding the wave.
And let the world consume me completely.
I wake up the next morning, feeling out of sorts. My body feels overused, like I ran a marathon overnight. I sit up, looking around the open field. Most people are still sleeping, either on blankets or on the grass. There are some tents, but most people are sleeping underneath the open sky.
Willie lies next to me, his arm wrapped around my side.
What happened last night?
My skirt is bunched up to my thighs, and I frown, pulling it back down to my ankles. I slide out of his hold, rolling over and getting up.
I need to go pee.
I see Trish and Neil sleeping next to Crow and Danae. Danae is sleeping directly on top of Crow. Crow's arms are splayed out onto the blanket, and for some reason he reminds me of Jesus on the cross.
The grass is damp this morning, and my toes get wet with dew as I walk across the field and into the trees. There are a few people sleeping against the stumps, and I walk past them, tiptoeing across sticks and logs, hoping I don't wake anyone up.
I find a private spot and pull my skirt up, squatting down to the ground to relieve myself. When I'm finished, I get up, wandering back the way I came.
Willie is still asleep, but Neil and Trish are sitting up. They both look out of it, completely disoriented. Just as I feel.
"Hey," I whisper as I walk up to them.
"Dude, what happened last night?" Neil runs his hands over his face. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."
"You look like you got hit by a truck." Trish grimaces.
"We really took acid, huh?" He looks at us with wide eyes.
We both nod.
"What's the plan?" I ask, sitting down beside them. My legs cross beneath my skirt, and I run my hands down the length of it, attempting to get the wrinkles out.
"No plan." Neil shrugs.
I frown.
That's the thing. I really don't want to stay here. These people seem nice, but this isn't something I want to do long-term. I don't want to trip on acid for the rest of my life.
I didn't come all this way to lose myself.
"I want to leave," I whisper.
Trish looks at me, the same look on her face.
Neil frowns, confusion lining his face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
I shake my head, not really sure. It just doesn't feel right to be here. It doesn't feel like it did in Arizona or in San Diego. This doesn't feel like home. This feels like a stop.
And I'm ready to go.
"Little birdie looks ready to fly away." Comes from behind Neil. I look over his shoulder, seeing Crow staring at us.
"What was that?" I ask, confused.
"You. You look like you want to leave. Didn't you have a good run last night?"
I bite my lip. He doesn't seem angry, more so just curious. But there's something in his tone that puts me off. It worries me.
"It's just not really my thing." I cringe.
He shakes his head, pressing his hand into the ground so he can sit up. He goes into his bag, grabs his little dropper from last night. Sticking his tongue out, he lands two drops onto his tongue. He closes his eyes like it tastes like candy, even though I remember from last night that it was flavorless.
He gets up, walking over to me with his dropper in hand. He stands right in front of me, looming over me like a mountain. I stand up, and Neil and Trish do the same. We're all a little leery now, a little hesitant.
I look down as Crow opens his hand, leaking the rest of the dropper into his palm. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he mumbles at me, "Fly away, little birdie."
Neil shoves me out of the way, just as Crow inhales deeply, blowing the entire palmful of acid in Neil's face. He coughs, stumbling, falling to the ground, wiping the oily liquid from his face.
"What the hell?!" Trish shouts, kneeling in front of Neil. He looks disoriented, a little confused.
I stand there, shell-shocked at the scene in front of me. What just happened?
"Bummer. It was meant for little birdie." He shakes his head, turning around and settling back down next to Danae, who hasn't even stirred.
Come to think of it, Willie is still passed out as well.
I look over to Neil, who hasn't said a word. He's barely blinked, actually. He's just staring, looking confused. Lost.
I walk up to him. "Neil, are you all right?"
He looks up at me, wonder in his face. His eyes travel around my head, down my body and back up again. He doesn't say a word.
"We need to get him out of here. Before they do something else," Trish says, a tremor of fear in her voice. "Help me get him up, would you?"
I go to the opposite side of Neil, lifting his arm around my shoulder and pulling him to stand.
Glancing over at Willie, I whisper, “Willie." He doesn't move, not doing anything besides lying in the grass, his mouth hanging open as he dreams his dreamless sleep. "Willie." I kick him, and this gets him moving. He snorts, wiping his mouth as he blinks away his sleep.
"What? What's going on?"
I nod my head toward the way we came, and he must notice the tension in the air, because he stumbles to his feet, looking disoriented as we walk away from Crow and Danae. People are starting to wake up, sitting up in the grass and staring at us in shock as we walk by.
We make it to the cars, walking down the gravel road and toward civilization.
I watch as a man lights up a cigarette near his car, staring at us as we walk past.
"What's wrong with him?" Willie asks, finally getting his bearings.
Tears form in my eyes. Whatever happened to him, was meant to happen to me.
"I don't know, but we need to get him to the hospital." My voice shakes with my words.
"Hospital ain't going to help him." Comes the voice from behind me.
We all pause, Neil stumbling but following our lead. He stands there, staring straight ahead. Like he's tripping hardcore.
He must have overdosed.
"What do you mean? Do you know what happened to him?" Trish asks.
The man nods, taking a large drag from his cigarette. The smoke trails through his nostrils as he walks around us and stares at Neil. He shakes his head, pity and regret in his gaze. "He ain't coming back."
"What do you mean?" Willie frowns. "He's just tripping, right? It might just take longer for him to come down?"
The man shakes his head. "He was puddled."
We all frown simultaneously.
"What's puddled?" I ask, looking over at Neil. He stands there, his head tilted to the sky as he watches the trees.
"Someone blew acid in his face, right?" The man asks.
Trish nods.
He shakes his head, taking another drag of his cigarette. "How much?"
Trish shrugs, panic in her eyes. "Like, the whole dropper."
The man winces. "Puddling is what happened to your guy here. Most likely, he'll be in his trip forever. If he comes down, and they rarely do, he'll never be the same. This guy is gone." He shrugs. “Sorry. These people aren’t bad people at all. We just live life a little differently.”
Tears fall down my cheeks, shock and terror that this could've been me.
I could've been gone, in just the blink of an eye.
Would anyone have ever known? How would anyone even find me? My parents don't even know where I am.
Would Roman ever know?
I swallow down a panic attack and look at Trish. "We need to take him to the hospital. Maybe they can do something."
The man shakes his head. "You
're wasting your time."
Willie looks at the man, urgency in his gaze. "Can you take us to the closest hospital?"
The man takes a step back, his hands raised in the air, cigarette poised between his fingers. "Hey, man. I'm not getting into this. If he got puddled, he must have done something."
"It was supposed to be me," I cry.
Trish cries too, pleading, "Please, just take us to the hospital. We have no idea where we are."
The man grimaces. "I'll take you to the closest town, but I ain't taking you to a hospital. You'll be on your own from there."
We all nod, grateful for any kind of help.
The man nods toward his van, and we all shuffle in, shoving Neil into the middle. Willie sits in the front, his hands gripping his headrest as he turns around, staring at Neil. He tries to talk to him, asking him questions and shaking his knee.
Nothing happens.
I cry the entire time down the mountain and into town. The man doesn't say anything, doesn't ask us any questions. He just drives us directly into the closest town, parking on the corner of an empty street. There are shops nearby, but none even look open yet for the day.
"Thank you, man," Willie says, giving him a smile.
"Where's the closest hospital?" I ask through my tears, unable to stop the terror of this morning. I could be dead right now, or mentally, anyway. Who knows what kind of trip Neil is going through in his mind right now.
The thought of that terrifies me.
The man points out the passenger window. "Three blocks that way you'll find the emergency room."
We all nod, thanking him again before shuffling Neil down the road. He can walk himself, but his feet are wobbly, and we want to get him there as soon as possible.
My eyes glance at a sign that shows a nearby airport, and my heart lurches in my chest. This is the first time the thought of going home has hit me so hard. This is the first time I've felt as lost, as homesick as I do in this moment.
I don't want to be here anymore.
We walk into the emergency room, and the scent of disinfectant slaps me in the face. The doctors give us disappointed looks when we tell them what's going on. They put Neil in a wheelchair, the wheels slightly squeaky, and bring him to the back, telling us to stay in the waiting room and they'll update us when they can.
