Before we even departed I knew this excursion was not going to be like the last. There were no tents, tarps, cordage or any other camping gear aside from a Weber grill. There were a few small coolers, two large ice chests, plenty of alcoholic beverages and other substances. For the next five days we would lodge and revel in comfortable accommodations.
While pulling into the motel parking lot I thought: 'Well sheltered from unpredictable weather conditions, but we are at the mercy of our own self indulgence.'
Whitey and I arrived first, but the others pulled in a half minute later. My good friend Bear and I would take care of registering two double occupancy rooms high around the motel's back side. Built on a sloping hillside, the Colony House Motel's upper back rooms would allow for a bit more privacy than around front. Paying for a night's lodging for now, we drove up the steep lane to our rooms. Before unloading gear and provisions we checked out our accommodations. Bear and Denny unlocked the door and ambled in. Whitey and I entered our room. Sharing a room with Whitey would be better than being kept awake all night listening to Bear's thunderous snoring. Lean built, slightly above medium height with shoulder length dirty blonde hair, Whitey was a few years younger than me and although somewhat of a borderline psychotic, he did not snore. Enduring six months of my roommate's overly loud snoring which went through our apartment's thin walls, I looked forward to a good night's sleep without having to insert hearing protection. Denny lost a coin flip and ended up with Bear. "Good thick walls." I said to myself while knocking upon one. However there was one small problem, a thin wooden inside door which led into Bear and Denny's room. Putting the key into that door, I opened it and saw yet another door which flew open. "Howdy there neighbor!" Bear roared. "Let's get our shit inside and commence to celebrating!" Taking a good look at Whitey, he said: "Looks like you've already started." Having crashed at our pad last night, Whitey had been swilling beer and smoking weed since our late morning departure from Williamsburg. After picking up supplies in Charlottesville, I had to drive his Chevy Cheyenne pickup truck here. Thank goodness Afton Mountain was fog free on this sunny early summer day and my staying sober in case the interstate was obscured by a low cloud.
Travel bags, suitcases, coolers, ice chests, boxes, paper bags contained all we would need to get us through at least a few days. First getting our meat and other perishables into the two motel mini fridges, we then took stock of other provisions. Never a liquor drinker, unless absolutely necessary, Whitey had brought in five cases of his favorite Budweiser beer and a half ounce of some mid grade weed. He stared at the stack of beer on our floor and muttered: "I should of got a few more cases." For the last half decade, I rarely saw him sober. A beer drinker since he was twelve, for the last several years since getting a job at Newport News Shipyard, Whitey had become a chronic alcoholic. Just two weeks ago he got his full driving privileges back after his second DUI. Pulling a beer off the stack, Whitey looked about the room, popped open the can, emptied it's warm contents down his gullet, belched and declared: "I like this kind of camping!"
"Damn right!" Bear growled while entering our room. "No pitching tents, no stringing up tarps, no sleeping on the ground, no snoopy ass campground neighbors or park rangers."
"No campfires, no nature sounds, no picnic table to feast, drink and gamble upon, you fragile old woman." I returned then inquired what party favors did he bring along.
"Three cases of Ballatine Cream Ale, two bottles of Crown Royal, a fifth of Smirnoff, and a half gallon of dark Bacardi Rum."
"What no dope?" I asked knowing Bear had scored a quarter ounce of cocaine yesterday. Not wanting the others to know about this just yet, he cut me a fierce glare. "You're the dope man." He told me, then inquired: "So what are we smoking?"
"Just that shit Whitey has." I lied having a little surprise of my own. Whitey however barked: "Shit is it? Fuck y'all, I'll smoke it all myself and share none with you!" At that Bear smiled and whispered: "Denny supposedly has in his possession a big hunk of hashish."
"Do say." Whitey returned with a grin. Then I ran down my inventory. "Two bottles of mescal, three fifths of Stolichnaya, a jug of homemade peach and berry brandy and if yer good I've got a surprise."
"A surprise, oh that will be fucking swell!" Whitey slurred.
"I've two cases of Becks and plenty of cognac!" Denny shouted from the other room over the cable television noise he had brought forth.
"Turn that damn thing off!" Bear growled then plugged in our boom box and fiddled with the FM dial until finding a decent rock-n-roll station. "I'm sick of fucking television, let's listen to some music."
Entering the room with a small Tupperware container, Denny chuckled: "Oh I've got a treat for you boys."
"A treat?" Whitey mocked.
Lifting the air tight lid Denny shoved the container into Whitey's face and said: "Take of whiff of this you sot."
"It's hash." Whitey returned without any hint of excitement.
"Black Moroccan." Denny added. "When's the last time you seen anything like that around here?"
"Not since around 1977." I replied while having a whiff myself. Going for my travel bag, I said: "Well kids since it's show and tell time,," Pulling an old honey jar out, I continued: "Have ye a look at and whiff of this, my friends." Crammed inside were large dark green and purplish dried reefer flower tops. Like Denny's Tupperware container, my jar went around as well.
"What a strangely wonderful aroma." Denny stated, then inquired: "Where in the hell did you come across this?" Not wanting to reveal my connection, I replied: "Some Kat I met in a bar." In all actuality, this smoke came from our downstairs neighbor back home, a young William and Mary student who was putting himself through school by selling drugs. He had also sold Bear the cocaine. We kept his identity a secret as not to screw up a good connection. "That Kat said it was Burmese brain bender. I've not tried any yet, but now seems a good time to start. Reaching into the travel bag again I grabbed my steatite pipe. Plucking a bud from the jar, I broke it apart and loaded my stone bowl. Raising it aloft, I pointed it's stem to the north, east, south and west then blessed the bowl with butane flame.
The pipe went around three times before it was spent and oddly enough I felt nothing at all. Evidently no one else did as well. "What kind of beat shit is that, man? Hope it didn't cost you alot, because if it did, you got spanked, fellow. And you called my weed mid-grade shit." Whitey hissed. Never having gotten spanked on weed by my neighbor, had me wondering what I spent a hundred and fifty bucks on. Then it sneaked up and grabbed me by my skull like a bobcat pouncing upon a cottontail. Before I could blather a word, Bear issued a low howl and said: "That's some serious crazy ass creep weed, man."
"Indeed." Denny concurred atop a chuckle. Turning my altered attention upon Whitey, I scoffed. "Spanked, eh? Spanked your fucking brain, boy."
"Let's mix some hash with it." Denny suggested while placing his chunk of Black Moroccan on the motel table. With a pocket knife he shaved off a few small pieces. "Well if this Burmese trip weed doesn't take us up there, that black bubblegum hash will." I laughed then proceeded to break up another bud. Bear then chimed in. "If that don't take us up, I've got something that surely will." Never much of a cocaine user, I would at least snort a small amount once Bear brought it out and before my comrades went into a coke snorting frenzy. Off course this didn't mean that Bear was a cocaine addict, but during such excursions, we would all overly indulge upon one or more substances. As long as we kept everything cool and didn't trouble other guests, the Colony House Motel appreciated our patronage. However we would have to keep a leash on Whitey, especially when the cocaine came out and I knew that evil white powder would soon make it's appearance.
The weed-hashish mixture should of been enough for now. We were well up there after our second bowl full, but for some, that wasn't quite enough.
Rising from the edge of a bed, Bear lumbered into his room then a minute later all hell broke loose. "It's not here!" We heard him roar followed by a thunderous flurry of cursing. Entering the other room we found Bear, tearing through his travel bag. "What the hell is going on?" I inquired. Wheeling about, his bloodshot stormy grey eyes blazing, Bear bellowed: "It's not here!"
"What's not here?"
"My fucking coke!"
"Did you remember to pack it?"
Bear tilted his shaggy head upwards, gazed at the ceiling fan and replied: "I can't remember."
"You addled dope head." I sneered, but Bear paid me no mind as he reflected upon his movements before leaving our apartment. "I'll bet I left it in my dresser drawer." He sadly mumbled, "Or did I leave it in my other pants pocket in the dirty clothes bin?"
"Oh don't fret, you oaf." I said, "We've got enough here to see us comfortably through. Crack open a bottle of mescal and have a few good slugs." Personally I for one was glad Bear had forgotten his cocaine. No telling what sort of problems it would of brought about.
Still a bit down regarding his forgetfulness, Bear with a bottle of mescal in one hand and bottle of grapefruit juice in the other grimly stated: "We need ice."
"Why yes we do." I agreed and added: "Cards or coin toss?" That's how we decided who would carry out tasks or make runs in those days. We all voted on drawing cards. Shuffling the deck and allowing Denny to cut, I was offered the first draw. A eight of diamonds, but luck was on my side as Whitey drew a two of hearts, Bear a two of spades and Denny a four of diamonds. "Diamonds win!" I laughed. Bear and Whitey muttered a few choice words and set about hauling our two large ice chests out to the ice machine. Once they had exited our lodgings Denny commented: "Maybe it's a good thing he forgot that coke. I'm screwed up enough as it is." I had to agree with him. "Top shelf booze, hashish and weed, what else could we possibly need?"
"Some ice and maybe something to eat a little later." Denny replied as I placed a little more weed in my pipe, lit it up and passed it to him. Exhaling a stream of smoke he said: "Several buxom mountain gals would add a nice,," His words were interrupted by Bear and Whitey's return. "Man this place is fucking dead!" the latter hissed as he dragged an ice chest into the door. "There's only two other rooms taken from what I've seen."
"It's Thursday and still early." I reminded Whitey, adding "When this place starts filling up tonight or tomorrow, we can't have you troubling the other guests like what happened in that hotel down in Nags Head last summer." It was around this time last year that Whitey got us kicked out of a nice beachfront hotel by picking a fight with a lounge bartender for cutting him off due to excessive drunkenness and over all bad behavior. Having never been in a loving relationship, Whitey's approach in regards to females was rather lewd. His affairs were short and lasciviously boisterous either with what we referred to as party chicks, or hookers, but even those women could stand him for no more than a weekend, if that. Bear and I on the other hand were dating a couple of Colonial Williamsburg employees, but it wasn't anything overly serious. Denny like his brother R.W. had hooked up with pretty young women from very wealthy families who took care of most of their needs. Denny worked seasonably as a roofer while R.W. tended in a hotel lounge which was also somewhat seasonal. My roommate Bear worked as maintenance man for our apartment complex which allowed us a discount in rent. I worked two jobs as a maintenance man for another apartment complex and as a line cook at Williamsburg's Holiday Inn 1776. In fact the hotel restaurant's manager was a bit miffed I had taken five days off at the beginning of summer. 'Too bad' I thought as she had okayed this time off back in March. She had somewhat of a crush on me, so I didn't expect all that much flack upon my return to work. A company women, she suggested we stay at the Afton Mountain Holiday Inn, but I informed her that the Colony House was considerably cheaper, but would gladly bivouac at a company hotel if either she pay for our room, or else give me a raise. I embraced my manager in a bear hug, planted a kiss on her lips, then said "Love you. See you in several days." and ambled out not realizing the outcome of such a casual display of affection.
Aside from Bear's occasional growling about not having his cocaine, all was blissfully euphoric. A giant of a man, Bear was good to have around as his size alone intimidated others not to trouble us with any unnecessary bullshit. Near 7' tall, powerfully built, with a mane of long shaggy brass colored hair and a beard of a golden reddish hue he looked like some ancient Germanic or Norse tribesman. All he lacked was a harness of scale mail and a spangenhelm. As usual he was clad in blue denim, both shirt and jeans. Even in the hottest of weather conditions he garbed himself in this manner. With his perfectly combed shoulder length dark brown hair and eyes of the same color, Denny was probably the most handsome of our party. Denny along with his brother R.W. had been married and divorced, both had fathered children and now paid child support. By moving to Williamsburg they more or less discarded their old lives, children included. When not working, or in the company of their rich girlfriends, they drank and pursued other young women which abounded in Williamsburg. Bear and I had wagered on which one of the brothers would get caught cheating first and come knocking upon our door for a place to crash. I was kind of glad that R.W. wasn't here because upon occasion the two brothers would fight with one another over some of the stupidest reasons. Making sure he wasn't coming up, I inquired:
"Think anyone else is coming up?"
Throwing down a shot of mescal then chasing it with grapefruit juice, Bear stated: "Well if they don't arrive by tomorrow afternoon they're going to be shit out of luck as all the other rooms will be taken by then." He then inquired if I invited our old friend Flip, who still lived in Hampton. Whitey living not all that far from Flip replied. "You know Flippy is now in a family way. He ain't going to be going anywhere like this with us for awhile."
"Poor bastard knocked up his current wife on their first date and now she has another one in the oven." I informed them, adding "And no, Flip will not be joining us." Whitey then imparted some dreadful news. "My cousin Joyce attends nursing school with Flip's wife and she overheard her tell another chick that after he puts her through school she's taking the kids and leaving him."
"It's like he has a sign on him saying use me or I'm a human step ladder. Maybe someone should hip Flip of his wife's plans." Bear grimly stated.
"Well it ain't going to be me." I said, "I tried hipping him that his last lady love was running around on him only to have that dolt accuse me of attempting to break them up so I could get into the sack with her. In fact she had already approached me with such an offer, but unlike you, Whitey, I didn't take her up on it." All of our glassy bloodshot eyes were upon Whitey, but he cackled in twisted mirth. "Hell, I was tapping Donna a week after she got up with Flip up until they broke up a little over a year ago." At that Denny howled with laughter and chuckled: "Damn Skid, you were tapping Donna for almost five years?"
"On occasion after he dropped her off at home following one of their dates. You know the deal, Denny after tapping her a few times yourself."
"You damn dirty dogs!" I growled, "Right after a date, you didn't even give her a chance to shower?" At that Whitey winked at Denny and then both of them cackled like hyenas.
"Shit!" Whitey hissed, "Donna wasn't giving up to Flip. That goof was hanging onto honeymoon promises. As soon as she got where she was going in life, Donna ditched Flip for a Langley fly boy. She told me to fuck off as well." Denny in jest rubbed his eyes while feigning crying. "Oh poor Flippy the bad luck hippy." Then with a sinister grin said: "Such is the lives of fools and dogs." Having broken up with a high school sweetheart who was seduced by Denny while I worked at my after school job, I returned with: " Remember Denny, when the dog is away, the cat will play." He knew exactly what I was referring to as I had returned that past breech of friendship by seducing his now ex wife while he was cheating with another woman. "Dogs, cats and fools." I chuckled and asked: "So Denny, what about R.W., is he coming up tomorrow like he said?"
"His girlfriend won't let him come unless she comes with him." Denny replied.
"Oh so she's getting a little hip herself, eh?" I laughed.
"I hope to hell, he don't come up with that snooty wench." Bear growled, causing him to throw down another shot of mescal just thinking about her.
"Oh she wants to come up here, but my brother is dead against it."
"Why is that?" I inquired while accepting a shot that Bear poured for me.
"Because he thinks we're either going to drunkenly slip up and mention his running around, or else we're going to hit on Mia." Grapefruit juice dripping off his beard, Bear snarled and rumbled: "That little wench doesn't have to worry about me talking to her, much less hitting on her. I hope the fuck they both keep their prissy little asses in Williamsburg."
Mia, R.W.'s girlfriend was the half Asian daughter of a high ranking army officer. Having just turned eighteen, still living with her parents, she was going to attend William and Mary. Petite, with long raven black hair and jade green eyes, Mia was exotically beautiful, but spoiled rotten. Mia was also extremely rude to R.W.'s friends from the old neighborhood, especially Bear whom she referred to as a Neanderthal ogre. On a large allowance and also having cashed in on a deceased grandmother's trust fund, she was paying R.W.'s rent, other bills and keeping him well dressed. In return Mia had her own personal little party pad and love nest complete with a kept man, or so she thought.
"For crying out loud, she has my brother looking like some foppish MTV video star dandy." Denny said with great disgust. "Floofy hair, eye liner, makeup, and prissy ass duds."
At that I issued a short bark of laughter. "Oh he's just keeping up with the times in order to score with the young chicks. It is after all 1983. But why are you belly aching over that fop? Both of you brothers have it pretty good for now."
"For now." Bear chuckled and rolled his bloodshot eyes at me at which I continued: "Both hooked up with young comely, naive in regards to meaningful loving relationships, but otherwise impressionable women of high means. Oh adventurous men of leisure. Both you and your brother are imparting a hard learned but otherwise valuable lesson to these young gals concerning what not to look for in a husband or soul mate. In time, unless they're addled, both will wise up and move on to places far from our places in this world. Hopefully they won't depart from your caddish lives as eternally scornful, man hating shrews." At that both Bear and Whitey howled with laughter. Denny's handsome face twisted into a snarl as he cut his dark eyes at us three. "You misanthropes are just envious, because the only women who will consort with your ilk are party chicks, call girls, lounge hookers and older wayward housewives!"
"Dogs, cats and fools." I repeated while Whitey was either bearing his teeth like a wild animal or smiling. It was difficult to tell the difference. "Let this bird of paradise come!" he hissed, "I for one would like to meet this Mia and get to know her better."
"Stop evoking that snobbish wench's name!" Bear growled, "I for one don't want her ass up here molesting my vacation!"
Then the phone in Bear's room began ringing.
No one got up to answer it, but Bear slightly slurred: "Wonder who could be calling?" No sooner than he uttered those words the phone started ringing again. This time Bear rose to his feet and lumbered into the other room.
"Who is it?" We heard Bear growl and following a half minute of silence, "Tough luck man, there's no vacancy. We're all crammed into one room. Maybe you and Mia should head south down to Nags Head." followed by another half minute of silence then, "He's at the pool. Hey got to go now so later." Bear lumbered back into our room with a smirk upon his wide face. "Your brother R.W., but I took care of things."
"What do you mean, took care of things?" Denny asked.
"Look man, I don't want any drama, snobby little teen queens , or you and your brother getting into stupid little spats. After leaving my coke at home, I don't need any other screw ups, dig?" It was then I caught a weird glimmer in Bear's stormy grey eyes. "Wait a minute." He mumbled, then turned about and re-entered his room. This time he shut the inner door.
"Wonder what that was about?" Whitey chuckled while getting himself a half chilled beer from one of our ice chests. In the short time since we touched down here, He had already swilled down more than a six pack. Then a grim possibility bounced around in my skull. Pouring, then throwing down a shot of mescal, I replied: "If that oaf is doing what I think he's doing, I'm going to wrap a chair around his head." Right then the door opened and Bear lumbered in with a smile upon his face. "You fucking idiot!" I growled, "You told R.W. where the spare key was hidden outside so he can get your dope and bring it up here!"
"What are you psychic or something?" He laughed.
"Fool!"
"Fool, hell, jingle bells!" he chuckled. "Let him bring me my coke, then I'll banish his and Mia from our happy little camp."
"Oh you got it all planned out, eh?"
"Of course. Any objections?"
"Oh no, Great Bear, but remember, you reap what you sow, old boy."
"So when can we expect them?" Whitey inquired.
"Probably later tonight sometime." Bear returned, adding: "They're bringing up one of Mia's girlfriends, somebody named Brandy."
"Ahhh, Brandy." Denny happily sighed.
"You know her?" Bear demanded while pouring himself a shot.
"She's a William and Mary junior, a year or so older than Mia. A tall leggy creature she is, built like a model, but I've only seen her once and that was a fleeting glimpse." While getting up to get another beer, Whitey issued a "Hmmmmmmm." adding, "A model you say?"
Now faced with the reality that sometime tonight we were going to have both right much cocaine and more company, I would prepare myself. Taking a ceramic mug from my travel bag, I poured myself a cream ale and a mescal chaser. Quite a toper, especially while on these party excursions, I could keep up this pace all night, thus shielding my soul from what weirdness which would surely come. Quaffing down the ale, I had two shots of mescal and said: "Alright, we'll have ourselves a little gathering, but I swear by the spirits of these foggy mountains, I'll take my dogwood stick to anyone who starts fucking up too bad."
"Damn man, chill out." Denny advised me, then he suggested: "Let's take a dip down at the pool. Relax. Take a big drink down there with you. Get a little fresh air, Skid."
"Ahhh good Denny, the off beat and obscure voice of reason! Sounds like an excellent idea. Let's mix up another bowl to smoke first and make a pitcher of good drinks to take down there."
"But we don't have a pitcher." Denny stated.
"No, but we do have an ice bucket."
"A pitcher." Denny chuckled as he filled it with ice, the rest of our first opened mescal bottle and a splash of grapefruit juice. Passing the weed and hashish blend to Whitey I asked: "What about you and Bear, care to join us for a cool dip?"
"I'm in." Whitey replied on an exhaled cloud of smoke. "What about you Bear?"
Never seen in anything but his denim duds, Bear declined, but offered to grill some steaks outside while we were down at the pool.
Although small, the Colony House's pool was filled with cold mountain water. It was known as the Rose Pond because of the red rose painted on the pool's concrete bottom. Pulling up an extra folding lounger to a umbrella shaded table upon which we sat our improvised pitcher, plastic motel courtesy cups and the fresh six pack of beer that Whitey brought down. Only Denny brought along a beach towel and swimming trunks. Whitey and I sported cutoff jeans and white motel towels. Our sunglasses hid three pairs of bloodshot eyes. From our comfortable perches we gazed down at Route 250 and out beyond that, the Blue Ridge Mountains. After pouring Denny and myself a drink, we three raised our beverages to cheer these ancient mountains. For the last month I had been pulling fourteen hour working weekdays along with eight or more on Saturdays and Sundays. This little five day getaway was like paradise.
"Tomorrow we should take a drive down the Blue Ridge Parkway, that is if someone else drives my truck." Whitey drunkenly mused aloud. Since landing at this motor lodge, Whitey was pretty much comitted to polluting his sense of being probably into a series of blackouts. That's when things could become unpredictable. Hopefully he would pass out before any such weirdness occurred on his part.
"Who's going first into the ice water?" Denny asked as he stood up and proceeded to dip a foot into the frigid water. Issuing an "Ooooooooooh" he said: "Well?" At that, Whitey guzzled down another beer, removed his sunglasses, saluted the late afternoon sun then dove in like an otter. Swiftly surfacing, he gasped, issued a howling scream and loudly sputtered: "Holy shit! I'm turning blue!"
"Better not piss in the pool, cause I'm coming in next." Removing my sunglasses, I got up, took a few steps back to allow for a running start which climaxed with a cannonball into the freezing waters. That was the extent of my swim. The water proved to be a tad too sobering cold as it wasn't all that warm up here to begin with. Sitting down, I wrapped the little towel around my shoulders in a attempt to fight off a chill. Whitey, obviously too intoxicated to be overly affected by the freezing water, casually climbed out, shook himself like a dog and asked Denny if he was going in.
"Hell no. That's like a glass of ice water. It would probably give me a,," Before he could finish, Whitey grabbed the back of Denny's lounge chair, then swiftly dragged both it and him into the pool. Quite shocked and angered Denny emerged from the cold waters. "Why the fuck did you do that for?" Whitey however climbed out of the Rose Pond, shook his dripping head, cut Denny a leering glance and after a full minute replied: "Why the fuck did you bring your swimming trunks and beach towel?" Turning then diving back into the pool, Whitey retrieved lounge chair along with Denny's towel and sunglasses in an act of no hard feelings.
Returning to the motel's upper back side, we were met by the sight of Bear hovering over his grill and the aroma of sizzling steaks..
Catching up with the Altitude
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
there's a storyteller somewhere in your blood - enjoyed - 
Doll, you may have found a place of rest but I'm still on the trail.
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
Well thanks. Figure I'd get these memories written down in case I get dementia and end up in a nursing home playing with Fisher Price toys.the mingo wrote:there's a storyteller somewhere in your blood - enjoyed -
Back to this strange tale of high adventure -
Dinner consisted of rib eye steaks and canned baked beans washed down with cold brew followed by another good smoke. After cleaning up we moved chairs out onto the walkway outside our rooms. We were well shaded by both building behind us and ascending mountain forest just across the parking area. We had the whole upper back side to ourselves for now. Although it was early June, I could feel a twinge of cool air in the occasional downdrafts. The frigid pool water and a shower had sobered me up quite a bit, so I was back at it again, but at a slower pace.
Late afternoon gave way to early evening which deepened into the somber grayness of dusk. Off in the gloomy distance, a great horned owl was welcoming the coming night. During this time we said very little while taking in both evening air and sounds. Nocturnal insects began hovering and gathering around the dim outside lights. Most spectacular was a huge Luna moth that landed on the outside wall between a light and Bear's shaggy head. A walking stick insect crawled across the walk and up a rail then we heard the trilling of a few gray tree frogs.
"My kind of camping." Bear said, adding: "I do miss the fire, but won't miss waking up with a kink in my spine from laying atop roots or rocks underneath a tent floor."
"You big whiner." I called him and reminded Denny: "You're going to wake up with a kink in both ear drums. Glad there's a thick wall between that terrible noise and me."
"You snore too!" Bear growled.
"Not like the blasts you emit. Loud enough to wake the dead and send them running away."
"Fellows, fellows !" Denny laughed, "Live in the now." Oddly enough he began talking about the past. "Any of you remember that crazy party we had at Hornes Coliseum Inn down in Hampton when I got out of the army back in 1975?"
"Sure do." I replied, "Glad I booked that room with a fake ID."
"Yeah that place got torn to fuck." Bear added, "But hell, we were just kids then."
"You guys were, but I had already did a hitch in the army and was still wild as hell."
Whitey, the youngest of us chuckled and called Denny an "Old Fart."
"I guess in a sense we all are." He returned, taking no offense.
"Hell, none of us are even thirty yet." Whitey argued then guzzled down another beer. At that Denny quaffed a bit of cream ale, lit up a cigarette and said: "Old in a sense we're all basically looking and carrying on the same as we did last decade. We mostly listen to old rock-n-roll, watch re-runs on television and still partying like it's 1973 instead of 1983. We are still young enough to adapt and change with the times, like R.W., but we do our best to resist. Perhaps it's a survival instinct ingrained deep into our sense of being."
"The 1980s!" Bear snarled, "Ha! No more evident than in Williamsburg, a town that pimps itself out as being two hundred years in the past. Sometimes I just want to go fucking berserk, but the money's good so I refrain from breaking heads."
"He growls and gives them the peace sign, and that usually scares them off." I added.
"Them? Who are they?" Whitey asked, as he was not all that familiar with Williamsburg culture. However he would soon be encountering representatives of that strange scene.
"Who you ask?" Bear chuckled, "Fruit loops, flakes, new wave peacocks, preppy college kids, rude tourists and Colonial Williamsburg employees who seem to be stuck in the 18th century twenty four hours a day. The bars suck. No pool tables, bartenders who slight you on the pour. Damn how I want to knock some of those freaks five hundred years into the future, but this chick I see sometimes tells me to deeply take in and exhale ten breaths of air through my nose and that usually works for awhile."
"What if you have a stuffy nose?" Whitey laughed.
"Bear stays close to home during the cold and flu season." I took the liberty to reply.
Then we heard a vehicle coming up the steep driveway and saw headlights shining from around the bend. "R.W.?" Bear grunted.
"No that's not Mia's car." Denny returned as the vehicle parked next to Bear's Ford truck. It was a small hatchback and in the gloom we could see 'JUST MARRIED' written on the back glass with whipped or shaving cream, or some other creamy substance. All our eyes were upon that small car as the driver's door opened and out popped a smallish rat face fellow with black plastic frame glasses, a Polo shirt, Bermuda shorts and a white cap upon his head. Opening the back he began hauling luggage in and after finishing that task, opened the passenger side door. Fully emerged from the small car she was a head taller than and carried twice the bulk of her new husband. As they came further into the dim glow of the outside lights we could see her a bit clearer. Her dark eyes that were magnified by extremely thick glass, glared at us as she was escorted to the door next to Bear's. Then unexpectedly Whitey shouted: "Hey man, aren't you going to carry her over the threshold?"
"The little fellow's jaw dropped, while she continued glaring at us. "Come on Norman!" She ordered then the both of them shuffled in and slammed the door.
"Oh isn't that touching." Whitey dryly stated and suggested, "Maybe it's time to go inside."
"Let's spark up another bowl." Bear added.
"Let's roll one up instead." I said.
Sticking six rolling papers together, I filled them with a mixture of Whitey's and my weed along with some thin shavings of Denny's hashish. Upon completion it was the size of a cigar. Handing it to Bear, I gave him the honors. "I appreciate this." He thanked us and continued: "When my prescription arrives we'll all get blasted."
"Well we have to keep it cool with the newlyweds right next door." I reminded them. "That chick looked like the type who would call the front desk or even the police if our little get together gets out of hand."
"Yeah she didn't look like a happy camper." Denny added.
"Looking at them had me thinking about how Flip's honeymoon played out, right up there at the Afton Inn." Whitey grimly stated and added: "I'm never getting hitched up with a women."
"No decent woman would have you." Bear chuckled then lit up the jumbo sized joint. Toking hard, he filled his huge lungs and passed it back to me. That number went around about six times then got snuffed out halfway. There was a minute or so of silence while we sat around the small motel table like grinning apes in that smoky room. "Who turned off the radio?" Bear mumbled. Then the phone in his room began ringing again.
"Who the fuck could that be?" He growled as he wobbled to his feet and lumbered through the inner door. Within a half minute he returned. "That was R.W. down at the desk checking in. He wasn't sure where we are located." With that bit of news Denny ambled over to the full length mirror and began combing his hair.
"Primping are we?" Whitey laughed.
Then came a knock upon the door. "Open up Skid, it's me!" we heard a familiar voice shouting in from outside. For a large fellow with a head full of smoke, Bear got up rather quickly and opened the door. What entered looked completely foreign to my friends and I. Clad in a blue silk tank top, khaki shorts and shod in expensive white sneakers, he bopped right in. Although Bear, Denny and I were use to R.W.'s appearance, Whitey who had not seen him for a few years, stared in twisted amazement. Leaping to his feet, Whitey focused upon R.W.'s hair. Somewhat close on the sides, his curly light brown hair was fluffed up high on the top with long curls in the back. "What the fuck do we have here, Duran Duran?" Whitey was brutally forward. "Shit, R.W., you look like a fucking poodle."
"Whitey." R.W. sneered, "How in the hell did you end up with these gentlemen?"
"Never mind that!" Bear growled, "Did you find my coke?"
"No."
"What?" Bear roared with anguish upon his face.
"I looked all though your dresser, and through your dirty clothes bin and found nothing aside from clean and dirty clothes."
"Shit man! Where in the hell did I put it?"
"Probably in a place you least suspect." I replied then asked, "So where are your fellow travelers?"
"Down around front getting organized in their rooms."
"Rooms you say?" Whitey mockingly asked.
"That's right. We both took single bed rooms. A little privacy, if you know what I mean." Casting a glance at the low dresser with an assortment of liquor bottles, R.W. inquired about getting a drink while Bear glared at the wall.
Denny fixed his brother up with a vodka and tonic. "So is Mia and her friend Brandy coming up here to join our little celebration?"
"As soon as they get settled in, freshened up and take a ride into Waynesboro for a few things." Then he he asked: "Got anything for the head, Skid?" Denny pointed to the half of that huge joint resting in an ashtray. Snatching it up, R.W. said: "Alright! I've been jonesing for a buzz since waking up this morning and all the way up Interstate 64. I flicked my lighter for him and then he drew hard upon the number. After a few good tokes, "Oh yeah!" He tossed down his vodka tonic and gave swift condolences to Bear regarding his lost cocaine. I watched as a mistrustful Bear stooped down and attempted looking up into R.W.'s nostrils.
"Ah come on man!" R.W. laughed, "I wouldn't do a fellow Skid that way."
"You don't look like a Skid to me, Poodle." Whitey taunted. Ignoring him, R.W. said "Like I mentioned, the girls are going to be riding into Waynesboro for some supplies and personal items, so I'll hang with you guys until they get back."
Whitey's eyes crossed and he chuckled: "Personal items, you say?"
"That's right Whitey. Items so personal, even I don't know what they are." R.W. returned with his eyes crossed as well then blurted out: "Oh shit! I forgot to tell Mia to get me a razor and some shaving cream." At that Bear mentioned: "Don't worry about it. I've got razors and shaving cream in my kit."
Taking a good gander at Bear's bearded face, I had to ask: "Why the fuck do you carry a shaving kit with you. You ain't shaved in a decade."
"Just a weird habit. Mostly I store other things in my kit like,,," He paused and a wide smile split his broad face. Lumbering back into his room, he returned shortly clutching a small glass jar. "Dotard!" I scoffed, "You had it all along!" Bear paid me no mind as he held that little jar full of Bolivian baby powder close to his bloodshot grey eyes like it was the most important thing in the universe. "Haaahaaahaaaheeeeeeeehaa!" He howled and with a bit of concern said: "I've nothing to work with." Then his eyes darted to that big mirror hanging over the low motel dresser. Snatching it off the wall, Bear saw our table's surface was too small, so he placed it upon my bed. Unscrewing the lid, he poured a small pile onto mirror glass. Unsheathing his razor sharp hunting knife, he went to work chopping the powder into a finer consistency. Finished with that task, he divided it up into ten good sized lines, pulled out his wallet, then a new dollar bill and rolled it up into a snorting device. Like a human vacuum cleaner, he sucked two lines up into his nostrils and handed the rolled up bill to me. "It's,, fucking great,,,,man." He stated while attempting to snort the dose further into his sinus cavities. "Tell you what Bear, I'll do one line and you or someone else can have another one."
"Who said you get a second one?" He hissed as the coke drained down into his throat. Leaning over the mirror, I snorted up a line. This was quite enough of the white stuff for me. Denny, Whitey, R.W and once again Bear had goes at it.
"Now hang that big ass mirror up before someone it gets broken." I so ordered.
All of us were on our feet jittering about, smoking cigarettes and blathering nonsense. "Say nothing about this to Mia, boys. She's down on the hard stuff." R.W. asked of us to which Bear returned: "I'm not scheduling my recreational substance abuse around the dislikes of your girlfriend, but don't fret, I'll say nothing to her about what you sneak around and do."
"He should be thankful for that." I added while feeling my face go numb.
"So what's the deal with this Brandy chick?" Whitey inquired, "Is she seeing anyone?"
"She's totally out of your league, old boy."
"I'll be the judge of that, Poodle." He came back at R.W. in an overly southern accent. "Never know about them high society gals once they're beyond the fringes of what they know. "
"You be a gentleman now, Whitey." Bear commanded with a slimy gob of white nose snarf hanging out his right nostril.
"For goodness sake Bear, go clean the coke buggers out of your snout." I told the big man. In a few long strides he was over at the sink. Turning the spigot, he dipped fingers into running water. Sticking two wet fingers up each nostril, he drew in those unsightly white globs. "Waste not, want not." He chuckled.
"So you guys want to take a night dip down at the pool."
"Already been in the water." I replied, "But do go down there and jump into that ice cold water with a head full of coke and have your fucking heart explode if you want."
"Oh yeah, I forgot just how cold that little pool gets sometimes."
"Remember weather is a month behind what we left down in Williamsburg." Bear reminded.
As the intense cocaine buzz began to wear off we were again seated around the little motel table drinking and attempting to plan future activities. "Usually Mia has our trips all planned out, but she's at a complete loss up here. Brandy on the other hand hails from Charlottesville and knows this area fairly well. She wants to go up on the Blue Ridge Parkway and snap some photos." At that Whitey rolled his shit brown eyes, smirked and commented. "Oh I know some very scenic places not far from here at all." My concern for Whitey's behavior faded with each shot of mescal. If he became too much of a liability, Bear would knock him out and put him into bed for the night, that went for the Dibble brothers as well. If Bear got out of line we would usually stand clear and let him go. All in all, we were for the most part well behaved enough for this motor lodge. The Colony House Motel was rather accommodating to fellows like us as we ventured to the outer limits of our substance addled minds. I can recall two different occasions when we stayed here and dropped acid. Bear locked himself up in the bathroom and carried on meaningful conversations with something he called Mr. Yap. In these mystical mountains I didn't know if it was some local spirit or purely a LSD induced hallucination. Perhaps Mr.Yap could of been both, that is if he wasn't talking to his pecker. Taking a good look at my friends I thought about what Denny said regarding us not progressing with the times. Even R.W. with his new wave doo indulged like us, but I knew he would get some flack from Mia when she got back. I also recalled Denny's mentioning of her wanting to find out things about R.W. and suspected it more knowing how she loathed getting around the old neighborhood Skids. Like Bear, I did not want my small vacation molested by unnecessary drama, but after another shot of mescal and a glance at Whitey, thought: 'This could unfold into something rather amusing, if not highly entertaining.Hell, they're already here so let the chips fall and the fur fly.'
"Music!" Bear demanded and with that Whitey went into his bag and pulled out some cassette tapes. Walking over to our boom box he stuck one in. Black Sabbath, Master of Reality. R.W. re-lit the huge number and it went around again. "That's bothering me." Whitey mumbled.
"What's that?" Denny wanted to know. Saying nothing, Whitey rose to his feet, leaped up, landed upon the bed then proceeded to hang a framed still life painting of a wine bottle and bowl of fruit upside down. "Much better." he said after hopping down and taking a good look at his presentation. I must admit it added a nice touch to our lodgings. He also wanted to drop the television out of our only window, but it was bolted down. What I liked about that window, it allowed a good view of the front entrance and parking lot. If anyone at this time had been looking out of that window, he would of saw Mia and Brandy getting out of a white Firebird. We however were smoking, drinking and blathering away about past times. Just as Bear was beginning to tell his night in the Hampton City jail drunk tank story again, came a knock on our door. We all looked at each other as our smoky room smelled like an Afghan hash den. I stood up, walked over to the door and peered out through it's peep hole. All I could see was a blue eye, distorted by the peep hole's lens peering in. "Who's there?" I shouted.
"Mia!"
"That doesn't look like Mia's eye!" I returned. "Now who is it? Speak up!"
"Mia and Brandy! Reggie are you in there? Reginald, open up!"
"Reginald!" Whitey laughed.
"For god's sake, open the door!" R.W. demanded.
Swinging it open I saw the owner of that blue eye as well as another just like it. True to Denny's description she was built like a fashion model and rather comely. Tall, with good slightly shapely features and a mane of tawny hair streaked with gold coloring. Her sky blue eyes were rimmed with a fair amount of liner and silver shadowing. She wore a little black dress and was shod in black flats. With a sweeping bow I introduced myself, offered a polite greeting and welcomed both young ladies inside. Mia who was clad in a brand name T-shirt, shorts and little white sneakers whipped her long raven hair back and stated: "Brandy, this is Reggie's brother and home boys. As Denny rose to introduce himself, Mia looked at Whitey and said: "I haven't seen this one before."
"Chris Whitehouse, at your service, darling." He greeted. She looked him up and down then said: "Would be rather appealing, that is with a trim and some nice clothes."
"Well then baby, take me to the barber and out shopping.Then we can go out dancing." He came back at her. Whitey wasn't known to hold his tongue when it came to snooty acting women. In fact that's what turned Flip's old girlfriend Donna on about him. "You must be Brandy." He smiled at the tall young lady, "I've heard good things about you."
"What are you guys smoking in here and do you have anymore?" She inquired.
Hearing that, Bear, Denny, Whitey and I looked at each other and nodded our heads. At least we didn't have some anti-drug harpy in our midst..
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
Doll, you may have found a place of rest but I'm still on the trail.
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
Mia however was upset, especially after taking a good look at R.W.'s obviously substance addled condition. "Back from shopping so soon?" He meekly inquired. At that her eyes narrowed and she hissed: "Couldn't wait for me to get back, could you?" Brandy however went on to explain that a tractor trailer had overturned and was blocking the road into town. Mia again asked: "Couldn't wait, could you?" Taking a quick nervous glance at us, R.W. seemed a bit embarrassed, but then puffed his chest out and said: "Hey babe, dig yourself. These are the Skids." He referred to us by the old neighborhood name we called ourselves. "I mean we're all the way up here, everyone's off work or out of school, so why not?" At that, Mia's lips twisted and her brows knotted up, but before she could say a word, Bear stepped forward with his broad face spit into a wide smile. "Oh come on Mia, wind down. Let me get you something to drink." He dwarfed Mia and he blotted out the ceiling fan light casting a shadow over the smallish young woman. The few occasions back in Williamsburg Mia had come into contact with Bear, she was terrified as were other patrons of that local bar scene. To her, he, Denny, and I were heathenish examples of the wild life she pulled R.W. from. The whole affair thus far had me thinking of some spoiled princess trying to raise an ocelot cub into a fluffy and pampered Persian cat. And R.W., although almost a decade older than Mia, he had all but adhered to the conditions of having a sugar mama. While in her company on a silken lease, but when she was away, he somewhat reverted back into a small graceful, spotted wildcat well able to catch scent of, any females in heat. Avoiding the college bars, that Mia patronized by means of a fake ID, R.W. would frequent hotel lounges meeting up with older well off Williamsburg women, single or otherwise. Mia now suspected something was going on, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. Hoping to coyly extract information from his brother and even more so friends, Mia quickly came to the realization that she was out of her element. Ignoring Bear's offer of a drink, she requested that R.W. have a private word with her. "May I suggest Mr. Yap's office? He's out right now and don't think he'll mind." I said while tapping Bear's broad shoulder. "Mr.Yap? What are you talking about?" She returned in apparent anger. "He means the bathroom." Bear grunted. Whitey flashed a sinister smile and said: "Yeah the odor should be gone by now."
"Oh gross!" Mia hissed and demanded: "Reggie, come outside with me." R.W apparently knew that tone and swiftly complied. After they exited the motel room, Bear shook his shaggy head and growled: "Oh hell, here we go. I should lock the fucking door and crank up the music."
"That's probably a good idea." Brandy surprisingly agreed and put forth her question once again. "So what are you guys smoking?"
In short time we had processed a small pile of weed and hashish shavings, but this time for the pipe. Filling the pipe with more to spare, Denny handed it to Brandy and I flicked my butane lighter. Drawing in perhaps a bit too much, she coughed out clouds of pungent smoke. "Go easy on that. You don't want to hack a lung out." Whitey advised as he pried the pipe from Brandy's fingers as she caught her breath. He in turn took a long toke and coughed as well as he passed it to Bear. My pipe went around the six of us twice and it was quite evident that Brandy was a bit more elated than before. The next go around, I took the first toke and passed it to Denny. Each of us had another two good puffs and the pipe was set to rest for little while. Our current combined stash was nothing to turn one's nose up at, everyone present were obviously enjoying it's effect. My perception of time and location was invariably altered, but this was a vacation so it concerned me not. The music from our boom box had a curious hypnotic rhythm and as I glanced at my friends and new arrival in their euphoric state, felt a extreme sense of not only belonging, but freedom as well. Bear, always an excellent host, rose to his feet and inquired if Brandy needed refreshment. She opted for his suggestion of a vodka lemonade. "Sounds good, Bear make me one too." I said.
"Make your own damned drink. What do I look like, a fucking bartender?" he growled.
After our smoke we commenced to drinking. Brandy looked to be having a good time and like the rest of us had all but forgotten about Mia and R.W. until both stepped back inside dripping rain drops. "That settles that!" R.W, laughed while Mia's eyes were fiery green slits. "That settles what?" Bear chuckled. Ignoring Bear, R.W. with a bit of command in his voice said: "So get yourself a drink and settle down." Taking a close look at R.W.'s partially water damaged floofy hair-doo and cocking an ear towards the door, Whitey asked: "Damn, Poodle, is it raining out there?"
"Came in from nowhere." he replied while making a couple of drinks. "One minute we could see stars, the next dark clouds rolled over and it started pouring." Mia said nothing as she grabbed her small shoulder bag and went into our bathroom.
"That settles what?" Bear repeated in a lower tone.
"She wanted her, Brandy and me to leave." R.W. whispered
"Back to your rooms?"
"No back to Williamsburg."
"And this sudden rainstorm saved your ass that trip, eh?" Whitey chuckled not at all mindful of Mia in our bathroom.
"That and I wasn't going to go back anyway." he replied just as the bathroom door opened. "Come and get your drink." he told her. Mia smiled, but angry fires played in her eyes. Accepting the drink, she surprised us all by gulping it down and requesting another. "Thirsty, eh?" Whitey laughed then guzzled yet another beer.
"May as well get into the spirit of it all." Bear stated with a smile and added: "We even got a bowl ready for you."
"A what?" she returned.
"Something for your head."
R.W. then took it upon himself to inform us: "Mia doesn't smoke that stuff."
"Who says I don't?" she corrected him.
"But remember the last time?"
"What of it?"
"Alright then." R.W. concluded, "Fire it up, Skid."
There was enough of our mixture left upon the table to load another bowl. I passed the pipe to Mia and blessed it with butane flame. She deeply drew the smoke into her lungs and surprisingly enough did not cough it out. Holding it in for about a half minute, she exhaled a thin stream of smoke which swirled under the ceiling fan. While passing the pipe to R.W., her scowl was replaced by a goofy smile. With the exception of Bear, the rest of us who had already smoked declined letting Mia and R.W get in a few good tokes. After her third go at the pipe, with somewhat glassy green eyes, Mia stated: "This pot tastes funny."
"Funny you say?" Whitey chuckled prompting Brandy to explode in laughter with Mia joining in. "It's top shelf weed mixed with some extraordinary black hashish." Denny informed her, but she was laughing too loud to hear him.
"Oh great. A couple of cacklers." Bear growled as he opened an ale. Personally I thought it was an improvement. Her transformation from a shrew like party pooper to a young cackling hen, suited me just fine. It seemed like Mia took up the pipe as an escape from conditions beyond her control and sense of reasoning. Around a hundred and fifty miles from home in the company of the kind of people she usually didn't associate with as well as a savage Appalachian rainstorm outside making departure impossible, she adapted splendidly. Quite caught up with the altitude, Mia was rather pleasant to be around. Both her and Brandy listened closely as Bear spoke of strange experiences. One in particular involved him, Denny, our friend Flip, his former girlfriend Donna, her friend Kimberly and I while camping at Peaks of Otter in 1978. Stammering and slurring Bear attempted to begin the story only to have Denny break in: "Donna was becoming a real problem."
"Do tell, old chum." I urged him on.
"She was furious with Flip because he wouldn't take her home."
"And why was that?" Mia inquired.
Denny cut his glassy eyes at her and replied: "Because Flip didn't make a fuss about an apple pie she had made herself and brought along for our first night's after dinner dessert. Actually her pie sucked, the apples were too sour and under cooked while the crust was burnt. No it wasn't a good pie. With the exception of Bear who took one bite and tossed his slice into the fire, we were charitable enough to eat part of ours before feigning fullness. Donna didn't but it and asked Flip what he thought as well as why Bear tossed his into the blazing campfire. Flip who was making a pathetic attempt of showing us he still had a pair told Donna it wasn't one of her better pies, but Bear here told her to buy,,"
"A fucking Betty Crocker cookbook!" Bear chuckled. Denny howled with laughter then continued. "Oh Donna went slam off telling Flip that was the last thing she would ever cook or bake for him then proceeded to get sloppy drunk and wanting to hang all over me, I guess to make Flip jealous."
"So what did he do, fight you?" Brandy asked.
"No, by that spring I'd already had enough of her and actually felt sorry for Flip. I gently peeled her off and pushed her away."
"Yeah because Flip was there." Whitey interjected, "Otherwise you would of tapped it."
"At least I didn't ever nail her in Flip's garage while he was inside eating dinner with his folks." Denny stated. At that Whitey cackled, rolled his eyes and informed us how Flip walked in on them up in his garage attic while they were fully engaged in an intimate act atop his pool table. "I didn't hit him once, but he was swinging at me while I was getting my pants back on and fleeing at the same time. That was five years ago and he still hates me." Whitey informed us.
"Can't say that I blame him." Bear added. Brandy gave both Denny and Whitey an odd look and said: "So you were both screwing that guy's girlfriend. What about you two?" She asked while her eyes darted from Bear to me.
"I made out with her once." Bear confessed, "But that's it."
"And you?" she inquired while looking at me.
"She was my squeeze until she fell for Flip."
"Sounds like this Donna got around." Brandy stated and then wanted to know what else happened at Peaks of Otter. Denny got up, poured himself a shot of mescal, poured it down his gullet and continued. "Donna got shit faced drunk and began bawling like a baby which a concerned camping neighbor and her husband heard. They were a few sites down from us and took it upon themselves to enter our camp to ask if everything was alright."
"That's when it got weird." I said, "Donna drunkenly sobbed and blathered away how terrible of a young lady she was. She went on about how she had been making it with two of his friends and another guy we never heard of. Well with all that information our neighbors departed back to their campsite."
"And your friend, Flip?"
"Too much information for him as well." I replied, adding: "Since Flip rode up with Donna in Kimberly's pickup truck, he couldn't just up and go back home, but he went up to the ranger's station at Peaks of Otter and paid for another campsite a good distance from ours. Flip moved his tent along with a few supplies there and we didn't see or hear from him until it was time to leave."
"Did he break up with Donna?" Mia asked.
"No. It was the other way around." I returned, "She broke up with Flip, or rather just left him without a word a couple of years later for some fly boy from Langley."
Denny laughed and added: "Left Whitey too."
"The morals of feral dogs." Brandy stated and inquired if we still carried on in such a manner to which Whitey replied, or rather lied: "Oh not me, I'm looking to hook up with a steady lady friend, but in my search have not come across no one quite as beautiful and charming as you, darling." Instead of going all moon eyed over his come on, Brandy began laughing. Whitey's sneer bespoke of a man not yet entirely rejected. Of course now he was competing with Denny and possibly others for Brandy's favor.
By 11:00 the rain stopped falling, but a heavy fog rolled in. Such weather conditions are common around Afton Mountain. Opening the door I stepped out to get a breath of fresh air. Not able to see anything beyond five feet of me, I listened to my friends the gray tree frogs' occasional trilling exchanges. From further up the wooded slope came a heavy rustling through the underbrush right as Brandy and Bear stepped out. "Who's up there?" she asked while her eyes attempted to pierce the fog.
"Probably a bear." Bear replied and in a somewhat serious tone added: "Guess I'll have to fight him over you." Taking a good look at Bear's huge frame and wild shaggy hair distorted by both fog and outside light she stated: "I'll put my money on you."
"Oh yeah.He could scare a bear away with looks alone." I laughed then informed Brandy that black bears often came down to the Colony House at night and dumpster dive. Bear however lifted his head and issued a rather frightful roaring howl and judging from the rustling from above, sent whatever it was back further up the slope. Swiftly stepping back inside before our honeymooning neighbors stuck their heads out, I suggested we smoke a few more bowls, but Bear was in the mood for something else. "Anyone up for a couple of lines?"
"Lines?" Mia inquired.
"Some toot."
"Toot?"
"Cocaine." Bear clarified. Much to my surprise Mia who was obviously already wasted, smiled and said: "Hell yeah."
While drifting back into the waking world, I saw that Whitey was already up and swilling beer. He was also smoking a joint and watching Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes. Taking a good whiff, I could tell he had been into my stash. Seeing that I was awake he dryly stated: "You can put a man in a monkey suit, but all you got is a man in a monkey suit."
"Been in my stash, I see."
"No I ain't. This is my weed."
"Bullshit, Whitey. I can smell it the difference."
"Oh alright. I rolled one from your stash." He confessed then offered me a toke. I promptly refused. "Not until I've had coffee and perhaps something to eat." Whitey belched, called me a "light weight" and opened up another can of his liquid breakfast.
"That cheap swill is going to do your drunk ass in one day." I informed him, but he merely replied: "Could be, but today is not is not going to be that day." Then he asked me what time did I crash out. Recalling the events of last night, I replied: "About a half hour after you. There was no point in sticking around."
"That clumsy fucking oaf." Whitey hissed in regards to what happened shortly after 11:00 last night. Bear moved the party into his adjoining room and by that time we were all somewhat wasted. Denny and I had turned down his offer of cocaine, but the others readily accepted. Instead of removing the mirror off the wall as we had did earlier in my room, Bear decided he was going to do it off the porcelain cover of a motel toilet's water tank. Having no fully covered toilet seat, this appeared a rather precarious operation. Sitting backwards on the commode, Bear began preparations, but found himself in an awkward and uncomfortable position. Rising, but still straddling the toilet, he lifted the porcelain cover. Drunk and screwed up on quality smoke, his motor skills were not up to par and the heavy smooth cover slightly slipped in his grip causing a small amount of tilt. Both open jar of cocaine and hunting knife slid off right into the toilet. Standing at the bathroom door and enjoying a cream ale, I saw the terrible pathos in his widened grey stormy eyes. He stood straddled over the toilet like a statue, both hands grasping the porcelain cover as he glared down at disaster. "Oh fuck!" he roared, slammed the cover back in place. Sticking one paw like hand into the water, he plucked out his jar and rumbled a curse upon seeing that his entire stash had dissolved. Then he pulled out his hunting knife and hurled it at the dresser. It stuck a full two inches into the wood between Mia and R.W.. With bestial fury twisting Bear's face, he grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured the clear liquor down his gullet. With booze glistening in his beard, he swore off cocaine forever.
"Yeah that kind of turned the party into a weird direction." I stated while tying my shoes. The hurled knife frightened Mia and she had R.W. escort her to their room. Denny laid down and started watching television while Bear along with Brandy quaffed large amounts of liquor. Twelve straight hours of beer drinking finally had caught up with Whitey and he staggered into our room to crash with me soon to follow.
"That big dumb ass." Whitey hissed, "That was a shit load of coke he fumbled into the shitter."
"Where shit belongs." I added. Actually I was somewhat glad it happened in a selfish way. Personally I didn't care all that much for cocaine, or being around those under it's influence. "No telling what kind of dope fueled acts of perversion would occurred otherwise." I grimly stated.
"Yeah too bad." Whitey mused aloud, "Both of those gals are real lookers.
"Indeed so, but keep in mind they are not your usual lower peninsula strumpets."
"Indeed they're not." Whitey returned with a sinister grin.
Not having a desire to ponder what ill plans swirled inside his beer soaked skull, I went down for a cup of coffee from the motel office's courtesy pot.
It was a beautiful early summer morning. Shreds of last night's fog were being burned away by the fiery rising sun. The cool clean air breathed new life into me. Looking at the parking lot, I saw that our honeymooning neighbors had left. The squeaking of a housekeeping cart's wheels got my attention and I turned to look upon a middle aged Black woman pushing one out of our departed neighbors' room. Her hair was twisted into West Indian styled dreadlocks and the loose housekeeping smock failed to conceal her buxom shape. Her dark eyes seemed to hold mine captive as she spoke in a heavy accent. "Dey did not even leave me a tip."
"Cheapskates." I returned, but should of said nothing at all."
"Dey say to me dis morning dey were scared."
"Scared?"
"Dats right, scared. Dey say to me dat wild people scared dem away. Don't worry, dey did not tell de front desk clerk, but de tell me." Now having an understanding of what she was getting at, I pulled out my wallet, opened it up and gave her a twenty dollar bill. "It was probably us they fled from. We've been here a good many times and are usually model guests." I offered in explanation. "I do not doubt dat." she said and flashed a wide toothy smile. Pointing to her name tag she introduced herself with less of an accent. "My name is Alison, just let me know if you need anything. With a wink she began pushing her cart over the foot bridge on her way down the lane. Assuming she was heading back down to the Colony House's front side, I accompanied her. "Are you Jamaican." I asked.
"Not Jamaican. I'm from Barbados."
"What brings you to the Blue Ridge?"
"Circumstances you should not concern yourself with."
"Forgive me for being nosy." I apologized.
"Not a problem." Alison returned. Then she surprised me by inquiring: "So you and your friends were doing it up last night. Drinking and maybe a little ganja, eh?"
"Huh?"
"Oh don't worry boy, I partake." Alison said as we rounded the corner and she unlocked another recently vacated room. Not knowing what prompted me, I offered: "Come on up for some refreshment when you're off."
"I just may." she laughed while rolling her cart inside.
Returning to our room I found Whitey full of mirth and laughing hysterically. "What the fuck is so funny?" I asked.
"You got to see this!" he cackled.
"See what?" Walking over to the adjoining doors, he opened both and told me to have a look inside. That last sip of coffee almost squirted out my nose as I looked upon a truly weird scene. Denny laid on one bed with both pillows and covers piled over his head no doubt to muffle Bear's thunderous snoring. On the other bed were both Bear and Brandy, both still asleep. With hed resting upon Bear's legs, her arms encircled one of his size 16" feet as if it was a teddy bear. Aside from being barefooted, both were fully dressed. Quietly closing both doors, I said: "Let me finish my coffee and smoke a joint, then I'll wake them up."
Breakfast up at Afton Mountain's Howard Johnsons was especially tasty. Bear seemed in a good mood in spite of his loss. Brandy, Mia and R.W. even rolled in just as we were finishing up, so we stayed and had another cup of coffee with them although Whitey was a bit disappointed the restaurant served no beer. It was here where we planned our day. Bear, Denny, Whitey and I wanted to go up on the Blue Ridge Parkway while Brandy Mia and R.W. wanted to go shopping. Mia however told R.W.: "Why don't you have fun with your friends and let us girls go into Waynesboro."
"Good. We'll give you some money to pick us up some more provisions." Bear said. On a paper place mat, he made his list and passed it around the table.
Four bottles of vodka
Four bottles of mescal
One half gallon of rum
Three cases of beer
Two cases of ale
Five two liter bottles of Pepsi
Five two liter bottles of 7UP
Five cartons of lemonade
Lots of porkchops
Charcoal
Potatoes
Beans
Chips
"How am I going to get all of that into my car?" Mia wanted to know, but Bear told her to pack sensibly.
We all secured our lodgings for another two nights. Mia wanted to stay at the Holiday Inn atop Afton, but there was no vacancy. R.W. and Brandy were good with our present accommodations. As the ladies drove off towards Waynesboro, we men prepared for our lofty journey over and along ridge tops. We loaded a few back packs with extra clothing in case the weather changed and other such necessities like a first aid kit as well as snacks. Whitey packed as many cans of beer he could fit into his while we warned him if he got caught it would be his ass and not ours. He compromised by letting me drive. Denny and I prepared more smoking mixture. Containing it in Bear's old coke jar, I ribbed him a bit. "At least if I drop this in a stream, or a toilet, it can be dried out." Bear attempted to smile my remark off, but his lips twisted into a savage snarl. "Yes my friend, we have to be more careful, that's why when I drop you off a cliff, I'll be careful enough to grab my jar beforehand."
Down near Reeds Gap, we found a scenic pullover to park the two trucks. There was rock strewn meadow land and beyond that Appalachian forest. Whitey started to pull a beer from his pack, but Bear growled: "You fucking drunkard, just wait until we get up in those woods before you get to swilling that shit!" Tapping the ironwood walking stick I made for him on his free palm in a threatening manner he informed Whitey as well as the rest of us: "Don't screw up an get the park rangers taking close notice of us, or I'll break some heads." I wholeheartedly agreed. What tolerance mainstream society had for party people such as us during the 1970s was now replaced with Nancy Reagan's 'Just say no' approach to recreational drugs and those who used them. Even silly potheads were looked upon as menaces by the Reagans as well as all their followers, law enforcement in particular. Still aside from our looks, we passed for hikers. Lucky for us, but not our surroundings, the Reagan administration had made serious cuts into the National Forests and Parks. That meant less Rangers patrolling hundreds of miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway.
We melted into the trees and out of anyone else's sight. Ascending upon a narrow winding path, we swiftly reached the summit and rested. Pulling out my doeskin pouch which held pipe, Bear's little jar and tamper, I prepared a bowl for us. Whitey who already drank five going down the parkway, guzzled a sixth then seventh beer. "I can tell folks back home that I hiked the Appalachian Trail."
"More like you got snokered in the woods." Bear said then informed Whitey: "And this is not the Appalachian Trail. It's just a little path we know about." Bear corrected.
After the pipe went around we quietly sat for awhile taking in our shadowy surroundings. The thick foliage obscured distant vistas and all but blotted out the sky. Sitting in a circle beside the path we all glanced at each other waiting for someone to speak, but it seemed all of us were mesmerized by bird songs. Even Whitey appeared pleased with these surroundings and had eased up on his beer swilling. One thing was for certain, the higher altitude tinged well with our smoking mixture. "Kind of a creepy place." R.W. stated. He or Whitey had never been to this spot with us before. Lighting up a cigarette, I informed him: "It's a very kind and giving place which will recharge the soul. Bear, Flip and I discovered it several years ago. We visit this place occasionally and are always welcomed." At that Whitey chuckled then opened up a warm beer and guzzled it down. He then looked at me and said: "Spare me your mumbo jumbo, man. Still it is a good place to catch a buzz."
"Not mumbo jumbo, Whitey." Denny returned, "These are some of in not the oldest mountains on this planet. There's a lot of strange energy in these hills." Leaning in and taking a close look at R.W.'s hair, Whitey chuckled: "I'll say."
"What the fuck was that suppose to mean?" R.W. demanded, but Whitey merely laughed and replied: "I feel recharged, what about you guys?" Changing the subject even more I asked Bear: "So what's on the agenda this evening?"
"Grill some pork chops, have a few drinks and maybe get up a poker game."
"Why not party by the pool?" R.W. suggested. "The girls want to take a dip."
"Freeze their asses off." Denny said and added: "There's nothing quite like watching women in skimpy bathing suits after they emerge from extremely cold water."
"Pool party." Whitey agreed. Bear however shook his shaggy head in disagreement.
"I don't do pool parties."
I knew that was coming. Having known Bear since he was a little kid, I had never seen him go swimming, or wear a pair of shorts during the hottest of days. Even now with the temperature hovering in the mid eighties, he wore blue jeans and a denim long sleeve shirt of the same hue. It was just another weird quirk, and my roommate had several, but who could ask for better. He always paid his half of the bills on time and could cook fairly well. Then there were his hard to handle moments, especially when drinking liquor. All in all, he was somewhat adjusting to Williamsburg life. The young giant found he could shoo away bothersome people without laying a hand on them. A savage snarl and low rumbling growl usually got results. Although strong as an ox and rather fierce when set upon, he was not as battle crazy as others from our old neighborhood. Now some had taken to gun play and a few of them were dead. These days Bear was more happier at meals, drink or else occasionally hooking up with Colonial Williamsburg women or his barmaid friend. Then surprisingly enough he said: "But I brought a pair of swimming trunks with me. We can hang out by the pool for awhile."
Coming back down out of our high woods hideaway Denny pointed at the distant parking area and said: "I recognize that car." We saw an emerald green vehicle and upon getting a bit closer could see it was a 1967 Mercedes Benz L319d Campervan. Beside it we saw a familiar figure bobbing up and down with both hands shielding his eyes from the sun. "What in the hell is he doing up here?" R.W. asked his brother. Denny shook his head and replied: "I thought he never got out of Isle of Wight County. Something's going on." We speeded up our descent as to reach the parking area before he took off.
Scott Driskill always struck me as rather different. At age thirty two he held no job and still lived with his mother. Although Scott grew up in our old neighborhood, his mother bought a small farm across the James River in Isle of Wight County after he cashed in on a trust fund left by a wealthy grandfather upon his eighteenth birthday. Both his mother and sister raised Nubian goats, while he cultivated marijuana on undeveloped portions their property. He and Denny were close friends. When weed was scarce in our area, we would sometimes cop from Driskill. This was always a strange experience. He had converted the basement of his home into one of the strangest pads I'd ever been in. Hung with fishing line from the ceiling were over a hundred plastic models of air and spacecraft. These ranged from the Wright Brothers' plane to a Federation star ship from the old Star Trek series and everything in between. On the walls were posters, some dating back to the psychedelic era of 1967, some were of black light art. He had a sizable library on a good many bookshelves as well as much strange bric-a-brac laying all about. During a sale Driskill would ramble on topics only he seemed to comprehend while listening to music from Doug and the Slugs, The Dead Kennedys, Ten Years After and Kraftwerk. Tall, lanky with a dirty blonde Rod Stewart like hairstyle, he wore tinted granny glasses and black clothing. I went out with his sister once, but all she could talk about were goats. Bear referred to his whole family as being rather flaky.
Driskill cut quite a figure there by the Blue Ridge Parkway, clad in black Levis and a equally somber black long sleeve shirt. Upon his head was a weird looking pearly white wide brimmed hat like the one Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones use to wear. Still bobbing up and down, he appeared blitzed out of his mind.
"Scott! What are you doing here?" Denny shouted from across the parking area. "What brings you to the high country?"
"High country?" He muttered then cackled like a hen. "Denny is that really you? I just saw Edgar Allen Poe taking a dump by those bushes." He pointed to some rocks, but there were no bushes there to be seen. Bear rolled his eyes and said: "Oh yeah, I see him now." To which Driskill shambled over to the rocks, stared at them for a half minute and screamed: "Be more fucking cheerful, Ed!"
"That flaky fucker has lost the rest of his mind." Bear said as Driskill grimaced at the outcropping. Then he started mumbling unintelligibly.
"What do you think, acid, shrooms, or PCP?" Whitey chuckled.
"Hell if I know." Bear replied, "But he's certainly out of his rabbit ass mind. Look at him."
Now Driskill held both hands aloft and shouted: "High country!" He then walked back to us, approached me and shook my hand. "You of all, know the deal."
"The deal?"
"Yeah the deal. What it is. You know the scene. You're part of it, man."
It was quite obvious Driskill was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug or some heavy duty narcotics. His head bobbed and his eyes darted about. "My mom, sister and I are at Wintergreen with two aunts and a cousin. Bad scene man."
"What the fuck have you been smoking, Scott?" Bear inquired. Moving his hands in a circular motion, Driskill replied: "If I only had something to smoke. Something to level me out a little."
"Level you out from what?" Denny asked. Head still bobbing, Driskill hissed: "Mescaline." then issued a weird tittering sound. Now Bear was interested. "Mescaline? You mean the real deal and not that synthetic shit that was going around a few years ago?"
"Capsules." Driskill lisped, "The real deal."
"Got any more?" Denny asked.
"Back at the Chalet in Wintergreen. I've got twenty seven more caps. Copped them from some kat there at the resort."
After walking Driskill back up into the woods to smoke another bowl with him, we gave him about two bowls of the weed-hashish mixture and twenty bucks. In return, once we got him back to Wintergreen, he would give us ten capsules of mescaline. Denny drove him back in his old Mercedes with us following behind. Before leaving we invited him to party with us at the Colony House, but he declined. "I want to set on the deck and hear the leaves sing."
With Driskill safely with his family at Wintergreen and transaction complete, we began the journey back to our lodgings...
"Oh gross!" Mia hissed and demanded: "Reggie, come outside with me." R.W apparently knew that tone and swiftly complied. After they exited the motel room, Bear shook his shaggy head and growled: "Oh hell, here we go. I should lock the fucking door and crank up the music."
"That's probably a good idea." Brandy surprisingly agreed and put forth her question once again. "So what are you guys smoking?"
In short time we had processed a small pile of weed and hashish shavings, but this time for the pipe. Filling the pipe with more to spare, Denny handed it to Brandy and I flicked my butane lighter. Drawing in perhaps a bit too much, she coughed out clouds of pungent smoke. "Go easy on that. You don't want to hack a lung out." Whitey advised as he pried the pipe from Brandy's fingers as she caught her breath. He in turn took a long toke and coughed as well as he passed it to Bear. My pipe went around the six of us twice and it was quite evident that Brandy was a bit more elated than before. The next go around, I took the first toke and passed it to Denny. Each of us had another two good puffs and the pipe was set to rest for little while. Our current combined stash was nothing to turn one's nose up at, everyone present were obviously enjoying it's effect. My perception of time and location was invariably altered, but this was a vacation so it concerned me not. The music from our boom box had a curious hypnotic rhythm and as I glanced at my friends and new arrival in their euphoric state, felt a extreme sense of not only belonging, but freedom as well. Bear, always an excellent host, rose to his feet and inquired if Brandy needed refreshment. She opted for his suggestion of a vodka lemonade. "Sounds good, Bear make me one too." I said.
"Make your own damned drink. What do I look like, a fucking bartender?" he growled.
After our smoke we commenced to drinking. Brandy looked to be having a good time and like the rest of us had all but forgotten about Mia and R.W. until both stepped back inside dripping rain drops. "That settles that!" R.W, laughed while Mia's eyes were fiery green slits. "That settles what?" Bear chuckled. Ignoring Bear, R.W. with a bit of command in his voice said: "So get yourself a drink and settle down." Taking a close look at R.W.'s partially water damaged floofy hair-doo and cocking an ear towards the door, Whitey asked: "Damn, Poodle, is it raining out there?"
"Came in from nowhere." he replied while making a couple of drinks. "One minute we could see stars, the next dark clouds rolled over and it started pouring." Mia said nothing as she grabbed her small shoulder bag and went into our bathroom.
"That settles what?" Bear repeated in a lower tone.
"She wanted her, Brandy and me to leave." R.W. whispered
"Back to your rooms?"
"No back to Williamsburg."
"And this sudden rainstorm saved your ass that trip, eh?" Whitey chuckled not at all mindful of Mia in our bathroom.
"That and I wasn't going to go back anyway." he replied just as the bathroom door opened. "Come and get your drink." he told her. Mia smiled, but angry fires played in her eyes. Accepting the drink, she surprised us all by gulping it down and requesting another. "Thirsty, eh?" Whitey laughed then guzzled yet another beer.
"May as well get into the spirit of it all." Bear stated with a smile and added: "We even got a bowl ready for you."
"A what?" she returned.
"Something for your head."
R.W. then took it upon himself to inform us: "Mia doesn't smoke that stuff."
"Who says I don't?" she corrected him.
"But remember the last time?"
"What of it?"
"Alright then." R.W. concluded, "Fire it up, Skid."
There was enough of our mixture left upon the table to load another bowl. I passed the pipe to Mia and blessed it with butane flame. She deeply drew the smoke into her lungs and surprisingly enough did not cough it out. Holding it in for about a half minute, she exhaled a thin stream of smoke which swirled under the ceiling fan. While passing the pipe to R.W., her scowl was replaced by a goofy smile. With the exception of Bear, the rest of us who had already smoked declined letting Mia and R.W get in a few good tokes. After her third go at the pipe, with somewhat glassy green eyes, Mia stated: "This pot tastes funny."
"Funny you say?" Whitey chuckled prompting Brandy to explode in laughter with Mia joining in. "It's top shelf weed mixed with some extraordinary black hashish." Denny informed her, but she was laughing too loud to hear him.
"Oh great. A couple of cacklers." Bear growled as he opened an ale. Personally I thought it was an improvement. Her transformation from a shrew like party pooper to a young cackling hen, suited me just fine. It seemed like Mia took up the pipe as an escape from conditions beyond her control and sense of reasoning. Around a hundred and fifty miles from home in the company of the kind of people she usually didn't associate with as well as a savage Appalachian rainstorm outside making departure impossible, she adapted splendidly. Quite caught up with the altitude, Mia was rather pleasant to be around. Both her and Brandy listened closely as Bear spoke of strange experiences. One in particular involved him, Denny, our friend Flip, his former girlfriend Donna, her friend Kimberly and I while camping at Peaks of Otter in 1978. Stammering and slurring Bear attempted to begin the story only to have Denny break in: "Donna was becoming a real problem."
"Do tell, old chum." I urged him on.
"She was furious with Flip because he wouldn't take her home."
"And why was that?" Mia inquired.
Denny cut his glassy eyes at her and replied: "Because Flip didn't make a fuss about an apple pie she had made herself and brought along for our first night's after dinner dessert. Actually her pie sucked, the apples were too sour and under cooked while the crust was burnt. No it wasn't a good pie. With the exception of Bear who took one bite and tossed his slice into the fire, we were charitable enough to eat part of ours before feigning fullness. Donna didn't but it and asked Flip what he thought as well as why Bear tossed his into the blazing campfire. Flip who was making a pathetic attempt of showing us he still had a pair told Donna it wasn't one of her better pies, but Bear here told her to buy,,"
"A fucking Betty Crocker cookbook!" Bear chuckled. Denny howled with laughter then continued. "Oh Donna went slam off telling Flip that was the last thing she would ever cook or bake for him then proceeded to get sloppy drunk and wanting to hang all over me, I guess to make Flip jealous."
"So what did he do, fight you?" Brandy asked.
"No, by that spring I'd already had enough of her and actually felt sorry for Flip. I gently peeled her off and pushed her away."
"Yeah because Flip was there." Whitey interjected, "Otherwise you would of tapped it."
"At least I didn't ever nail her in Flip's garage while he was inside eating dinner with his folks." Denny stated. At that Whitey cackled, rolled his eyes and informed us how Flip walked in on them up in his garage attic while they were fully engaged in an intimate act atop his pool table. "I didn't hit him once, but he was swinging at me while I was getting my pants back on and fleeing at the same time. That was five years ago and he still hates me." Whitey informed us.
"Can't say that I blame him." Bear added. Brandy gave both Denny and Whitey an odd look and said: "So you were both screwing that guy's girlfriend. What about you two?" She asked while her eyes darted from Bear to me.
"I made out with her once." Bear confessed, "But that's it."
"And you?" she inquired while looking at me.
"She was my squeeze until she fell for Flip."
"Sounds like this Donna got around." Brandy stated and then wanted to know what else happened at Peaks of Otter. Denny got up, poured himself a shot of mescal, poured it down his gullet and continued. "Donna got shit faced drunk and began bawling like a baby which a concerned camping neighbor and her husband heard. They were a few sites down from us and took it upon themselves to enter our camp to ask if everything was alright."
"That's when it got weird." I said, "Donna drunkenly sobbed and blathered away how terrible of a young lady she was. She went on about how she had been making it with two of his friends and another guy we never heard of. Well with all that information our neighbors departed back to their campsite."
"And your friend, Flip?"
"Too much information for him as well." I replied, adding: "Since Flip rode up with Donna in Kimberly's pickup truck, he couldn't just up and go back home, but he went up to the ranger's station at Peaks of Otter and paid for another campsite a good distance from ours. Flip moved his tent along with a few supplies there and we didn't see or hear from him until it was time to leave."
"Did he break up with Donna?" Mia asked.
"No. It was the other way around." I returned, "She broke up with Flip, or rather just left him without a word a couple of years later for some fly boy from Langley."
Denny laughed and added: "Left Whitey too."
"The morals of feral dogs." Brandy stated and inquired if we still carried on in such a manner to which Whitey replied, or rather lied: "Oh not me, I'm looking to hook up with a steady lady friend, but in my search have not come across no one quite as beautiful and charming as you, darling." Instead of going all moon eyed over his come on, Brandy began laughing. Whitey's sneer bespoke of a man not yet entirely rejected. Of course now he was competing with Denny and possibly others for Brandy's favor.
By 11:00 the rain stopped falling, but a heavy fog rolled in. Such weather conditions are common around Afton Mountain. Opening the door I stepped out to get a breath of fresh air. Not able to see anything beyond five feet of me, I listened to my friends the gray tree frogs' occasional trilling exchanges. From further up the wooded slope came a heavy rustling through the underbrush right as Brandy and Bear stepped out. "Who's up there?" she asked while her eyes attempted to pierce the fog.
"Probably a bear." Bear replied and in a somewhat serious tone added: "Guess I'll have to fight him over you." Taking a good look at Bear's huge frame and wild shaggy hair distorted by both fog and outside light she stated: "I'll put my money on you."
"Oh yeah.He could scare a bear away with looks alone." I laughed then informed Brandy that black bears often came down to the Colony House at night and dumpster dive. Bear however lifted his head and issued a rather frightful roaring howl and judging from the rustling from above, sent whatever it was back further up the slope. Swiftly stepping back inside before our honeymooning neighbors stuck their heads out, I suggested we smoke a few more bowls, but Bear was in the mood for something else. "Anyone up for a couple of lines?"
"Lines?" Mia inquired.
"Some toot."
"Toot?"
"Cocaine." Bear clarified. Much to my surprise Mia who was obviously already wasted, smiled and said: "Hell yeah."
While drifting back into the waking world, I saw that Whitey was already up and swilling beer. He was also smoking a joint and watching Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes. Taking a good whiff, I could tell he had been into my stash. Seeing that I was awake he dryly stated: "You can put a man in a monkey suit, but all you got is a man in a monkey suit."
"Been in my stash, I see."
"No I ain't. This is my weed."
"Bullshit, Whitey. I can smell it the difference."
"Oh alright. I rolled one from your stash." He confessed then offered me a toke. I promptly refused. "Not until I've had coffee and perhaps something to eat." Whitey belched, called me a "light weight" and opened up another can of his liquid breakfast.
"That cheap swill is going to do your drunk ass in one day." I informed him, but he merely replied: "Could be, but today is not is not going to be that day." Then he asked me what time did I crash out. Recalling the events of last night, I replied: "About a half hour after you. There was no point in sticking around."
"That clumsy fucking oaf." Whitey hissed in regards to what happened shortly after 11:00 last night. Bear moved the party into his adjoining room and by that time we were all somewhat wasted. Denny and I had turned down his offer of cocaine, but the others readily accepted. Instead of removing the mirror off the wall as we had did earlier in my room, Bear decided he was going to do it off the porcelain cover of a motel toilet's water tank. Having no fully covered toilet seat, this appeared a rather precarious operation. Sitting backwards on the commode, Bear began preparations, but found himself in an awkward and uncomfortable position. Rising, but still straddling the toilet, he lifted the porcelain cover. Drunk and screwed up on quality smoke, his motor skills were not up to par and the heavy smooth cover slightly slipped in his grip causing a small amount of tilt. Both open jar of cocaine and hunting knife slid off right into the toilet. Standing at the bathroom door and enjoying a cream ale, I saw the terrible pathos in his widened grey stormy eyes. He stood straddled over the toilet like a statue, both hands grasping the porcelain cover as he glared down at disaster. "Oh fuck!" he roared, slammed the cover back in place. Sticking one paw like hand into the water, he plucked out his jar and rumbled a curse upon seeing that his entire stash had dissolved. Then he pulled out his hunting knife and hurled it at the dresser. It stuck a full two inches into the wood between Mia and R.W.. With bestial fury twisting Bear's face, he grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured the clear liquor down his gullet. With booze glistening in his beard, he swore off cocaine forever.
"Yeah that kind of turned the party into a weird direction." I stated while tying my shoes. The hurled knife frightened Mia and she had R.W. escort her to their room. Denny laid down and started watching television while Bear along with Brandy quaffed large amounts of liquor. Twelve straight hours of beer drinking finally had caught up with Whitey and he staggered into our room to crash with me soon to follow.
"That big dumb ass." Whitey hissed, "That was a shit load of coke he fumbled into the shitter."
"Where shit belongs." I added. Actually I was somewhat glad it happened in a selfish way. Personally I didn't care all that much for cocaine, or being around those under it's influence. "No telling what kind of dope fueled acts of perversion would occurred otherwise." I grimly stated.
"Yeah too bad." Whitey mused aloud, "Both of those gals are real lookers.
"Indeed so, but keep in mind they are not your usual lower peninsula strumpets."
"Indeed they're not." Whitey returned with a sinister grin.
Not having a desire to ponder what ill plans swirled inside his beer soaked skull, I went down for a cup of coffee from the motel office's courtesy pot.
It was a beautiful early summer morning. Shreds of last night's fog were being burned away by the fiery rising sun. The cool clean air breathed new life into me. Looking at the parking lot, I saw that our honeymooning neighbors had left. The squeaking of a housekeeping cart's wheels got my attention and I turned to look upon a middle aged Black woman pushing one out of our departed neighbors' room. Her hair was twisted into West Indian styled dreadlocks and the loose housekeeping smock failed to conceal her buxom shape. Her dark eyes seemed to hold mine captive as she spoke in a heavy accent. "Dey did not even leave me a tip."
"Cheapskates." I returned, but should of said nothing at all."
"Dey say to me dis morning dey were scared."
"Scared?"
"Dats right, scared. Dey say to me dat wild people scared dem away. Don't worry, dey did not tell de front desk clerk, but de tell me." Now having an understanding of what she was getting at, I pulled out my wallet, opened it up and gave her a twenty dollar bill. "It was probably us they fled from. We've been here a good many times and are usually model guests." I offered in explanation. "I do not doubt dat." she said and flashed a wide toothy smile. Pointing to her name tag she introduced herself with less of an accent. "My name is Alison, just let me know if you need anything. With a wink she began pushing her cart over the foot bridge on her way down the lane. Assuming she was heading back down to the Colony House's front side, I accompanied her. "Are you Jamaican." I asked.
"Not Jamaican. I'm from Barbados."
"What brings you to the Blue Ridge?"
"Circumstances you should not concern yourself with."
"Forgive me for being nosy." I apologized.
"Not a problem." Alison returned. Then she surprised me by inquiring: "So you and your friends were doing it up last night. Drinking and maybe a little ganja, eh?"
"Huh?"
"Oh don't worry boy, I partake." Alison said as we rounded the corner and she unlocked another recently vacated room. Not knowing what prompted me, I offered: "Come on up for some refreshment when you're off."
"I just may." she laughed while rolling her cart inside.
Returning to our room I found Whitey full of mirth and laughing hysterically. "What the fuck is so funny?" I asked.
"You got to see this!" he cackled.
"See what?" Walking over to the adjoining doors, he opened both and told me to have a look inside. That last sip of coffee almost squirted out my nose as I looked upon a truly weird scene. Denny laid on one bed with both pillows and covers piled over his head no doubt to muffle Bear's thunderous snoring. On the other bed were both Bear and Brandy, both still asleep. With hed resting upon Bear's legs, her arms encircled one of his size 16" feet as if it was a teddy bear. Aside from being barefooted, both were fully dressed. Quietly closing both doors, I said: "Let me finish my coffee and smoke a joint, then I'll wake them up."
Breakfast up at Afton Mountain's Howard Johnsons was especially tasty. Bear seemed in a good mood in spite of his loss. Brandy, Mia and R.W. even rolled in just as we were finishing up, so we stayed and had another cup of coffee with them although Whitey was a bit disappointed the restaurant served no beer. It was here where we planned our day. Bear, Denny, Whitey and I wanted to go up on the Blue Ridge Parkway while Brandy Mia and R.W. wanted to go shopping. Mia however told R.W.: "Why don't you have fun with your friends and let us girls go into Waynesboro."
"Good. We'll give you some money to pick us up some more provisions." Bear said. On a paper place mat, he made his list and passed it around the table.
Four bottles of vodka
Four bottles of mescal
One half gallon of rum
Three cases of beer
Two cases of ale
Five two liter bottles of Pepsi
Five two liter bottles of 7UP
Five cartons of lemonade
Lots of porkchops
Charcoal
Potatoes
Beans
Chips
"How am I going to get all of that into my car?" Mia wanted to know, but Bear told her to pack sensibly.
We all secured our lodgings for another two nights. Mia wanted to stay at the Holiday Inn atop Afton, but there was no vacancy. R.W. and Brandy were good with our present accommodations. As the ladies drove off towards Waynesboro, we men prepared for our lofty journey over and along ridge tops. We loaded a few back packs with extra clothing in case the weather changed and other such necessities like a first aid kit as well as snacks. Whitey packed as many cans of beer he could fit into his while we warned him if he got caught it would be his ass and not ours. He compromised by letting me drive. Denny and I prepared more smoking mixture. Containing it in Bear's old coke jar, I ribbed him a bit. "At least if I drop this in a stream, or a toilet, it can be dried out." Bear attempted to smile my remark off, but his lips twisted into a savage snarl. "Yes my friend, we have to be more careful, that's why when I drop you off a cliff, I'll be careful enough to grab my jar beforehand."
Down near Reeds Gap, we found a scenic pullover to park the two trucks. There was rock strewn meadow land and beyond that Appalachian forest. Whitey started to pull a beer from his pack, but Bear growled: "You fucking drunkard, just wait until we get up in those woods before you get to swilling that shit!" Tapping the ironwood walking stick I made for him on his free palm in a threatening manner he informed Whitey as well as the rest of us: "Don't screw up an get the park rangers taking close notice of us, or I'll break some heads." I wholeheartedly agreed. What tolerance mainstream society had for party people such as us during the 1970s was now replaced with Nancy Reagan's 'Just say no' approach to recreational drugs and those who used them. Even silly potheads were looked upon as menaces by the Reagans as well as all their followers, law enforcement in particular. Still aside from our looks, we passed for hikers. Lucky for us, but not our surroundings, the Reagan administration had made serious cuts into the National Forests and Parks. That meant less Rangers patrolling hundreds of miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway.
We melted into the trees and out of anyone else's sight. Ascending upon a narrow winding path, we swiftly reached the summit and rested. Pulling out my doeskin pouch which held pipe, Bear's little jar and tamper, I prepared a bowl for us. Whitey who already drank five going down the parkway, guzzled a sixth then seventh beer. "I can tell folks back home that I hiked the Appalachian Trail."
"More like you got snokered in the woods." Bear said then informed Whitey: "And this is not the Appalachian Trail. It's just a little path we know about." Bear corrected.
After the pipe went around we quietly sat for awhile taking in our shadowy surroundings. The thick foliage obscured distant vistas and all but blotted out the sky. Sitting in a circle beside the path we all glanced at each other waiting for someone to speak, but it seemed all of us were mesmerized by bird songs. Even Whitey appeared pleased with these surroundings and had eased up on his beer swilling. One thing was for certain, the higher altitude tinged well with our smoking mixture. "Kind of a creepy place." R.W. stated. He or Whitey had never been to this spot with us before. Lighting up a cigarette, I informed him: "It's a very kind and giving place which will recharge the soul. Bear, Flip and I discovered it several years ago. We visit this place occasionally and are always welcomed." At that Whitey chuckled then opened up a warm beer and guzzled it down. He then looked at me and said: "Spare me your mumbo jumbo, man. Still it is a good place to catch a buzz."
"Not mumbo jumbo, Whitey." Denny returned, "These are some of in not the oldest mountains on this planet. There's a lot of strange energy in these hills." Leaning in and taking a close look at R.W.'s hair, Whitey chuckled: "I'll say."
"What the fuck was that suppose to mean?" R.W. demanded, but Whitey merely laughed and replied: "I feel recharged, what about you guys?" Changing the subject even more I asked Bear: "So what's on the agenda this evening?"
"Grill some pork chops, have a few drinks and maybe get up a poker game."
"Why not party by the pool?" R.W. suggested. "The girls want to take a dip."
"Freeze their asses off." Denny said and added: "There's nothing quite like watching women in skimpy bathing suits after they emerge from extremely cold water."
"Pool party." Whitey agreed. Bear however shook his shaggy head in disagreement.
"I don't do pool parties."
I knew that was coming. Having known Bear since he was a little kid, I had never seen him go swimming, or wear a pair of shorts during the hottest of days. Even now with the temperature hovering in the mid eighties, he wore blue jeans and a denim long sleeve shirt of the same hue. It was just another weird quirk, and my roommate had several, but who could ask for better. He always paid his half of the bills on time and could cook fairly well. Then there were his hard to handle moments, especially when drinking liquor. All in all, he was somewhat adjusting to Williamsburg life. The young giant found he could shoo away bothersome people without laying a hand on them. A savage snarl and low rumbling growl usually got results. Although strong as an ox and rather fierce when set upon, he was not as battle crazy as others from our old neighborhood. Now some had taken to gun play and a few of them were dead. These days Bear was more happier at meals, drink or else occasionally hooking up with Colonial Williamsburg women or his barmaid friend. Then surprisingly enough he said: "But I brought a pair of swimming trunks with me. We can hang out by the pool for awhile."
Coming back down out of our high woods hideaway Denny pointed at the distant parking area and said: "I recognize that car." We saw an emerald green vehicle and upon getting a bit closer could see it was a 1967 Mercedes Benz L319d Campervan. Beside it we saw a familiar figure bobbing up and down with both hands shielding his eyes from the sun. "What in the hell is he doing up here?" R.W. asked his brother. Denny shook his head and replied: "I thought he never got out of Isle of Wight County. Something's going on." We speeded up our descent as to reach the parking area before he took off.
Scott Driskill always struck me as rather different. At age thirty two he held no job and still lived with his mother. Although Scott grew up in our old neighborhood, his mother bought a small farm across the James River in Isle of Wight County after he cashed in on a trust fund left by a wealthy grandfather upon his eighteenth birthday. Both his mother and sister raised Nubian goats, while he cultivated marijuana on undeveloped portions their property. He and Denny were close friends. When weed was scarce in our area, we would sometimes cop from Driskill. This was always a strange experience. He had converted the basement of his home into one of the strangest pads I'd ever been in. Hung with fishing line from the ceiling were over a hundred plastic models of air and spacecraft. These ranged from the Wright Brothers' plane to a Federation star ship from the old Star Trek series and everything in between. On the walls were posters, some dating back to the psychedelic era of 1967, some were of black light art. He had a sizable library on a good many bookshelves as well as much strange bric-a-brac laying all about. During a sale Driskill would ramble on topics only he seemed to comprehend while listening to music from Doug and the Slugs, The Dead Kennedys, Ten Years After and Kraftwerk. Tall, lanky with a dirty blonde Rod Stewart like hairstyle, he wore tinted granny glasses and black clothing. I went out with his sister once, but all she could talk about were goats. Bear referred to his whole family as being rather flaky.
Driskill cut quite a figure there by the Blue Ridge Parkway, clad in black Levis and a equally somber black long sleeve shirt. Upon his head was a weird looking pearly white wide brimmed hat like the one Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones use to wear. Still bobbing up and down, he appeared blitzed out of his mind.
"Scott! What are you doing here?" Denny shouted from across the parking area. "What brings you to the high country?"
"High country?" He muttered then cackled like a hen. "Denny is that really you? I just saw Edgar Allen Poe taking a dump by those bushes." He pointed to some rocks, but there were no bushes there to be seen. Bear rolled his eyes and said: "Oh yeah, I see him now." To which Driskill shambled over to the rocks, stared at them for a half minute and screamed: "Be more fucking cheerful, Ed!"
"That flaky fucker has lost the rest of his mind." Bear said as Driskill grimaced at the outcropping. Then he started mumbling unintelligibly.
"What do you think, acid, shrooms, or PCP?" Whitey chuckled.
"Hell if I know." Bear replied, "But he's certainly out of his rabbit ass mind. Look at him."
Now Driskill held both hands aloft and shouted: "High country!" He then walked back to us, approached me and shook my hand. "You of all, know the deal."
"The deal?"
"Yeah the deal. What it is. You know the scene. You're part of it, man."
It was quite obvious Driskill was under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug or some heavy duty narcotics. His head bobbed and his eyes darted about. "My mom, sister and I are at Wintergreen with two aunts and a cousin. Bad scene man."
"What the fuck have you been smoking, Scott?" Bear inquired. Moving his hands in a circular motion, Driskill replied: "If I only had something to smoke. Something to level me out a little."
"Level you out from what?" Denny asked. Head still bobbing, Driskill hissed: "Mescaline." then issued a weird tittering sound. Now Bear was interested. "Mescaline? You mean the real deal and not that synthetic shit that was going around a few years ago?"
"Capsules." Driskill lisped, "The real deal."
"Got any more?" Denny asked.
"Back at the Chalet in Wintergreen. I've got twenty seven more caps. Copped them from some kat there at the resort."
After walking Driskill back up into the woods to smoke another bowl with him, we gave him about two bowls of the weed-hashish mixture and twenty bucks. In return, once we got him back to Wintergreen, he would give us ten capsules of mescaline. Denny drove him back in his old Mercedes with us following behind. Before leaving we invited him to party with us at the Colony House, but he declined. "I want to set on the deck and hear the leaves sing."
With Driskill safely with his family at Wintergreen and transaction complete, we began the journey back to our lodgings...
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
Upon pulling into the Colony House Motel, we saw Mia's car parked outside of her front side room. Backing the trucks in, we got out to pick up our provisions. Just as R.W. raised a fist to knock on the door, it swung inward. Brandy and Mia were in their bathing attire, both carrying beach towels as well as tall insulated plastic tumblers filled with beverage. We all gawked at them for a good several seconds as they were wearing some particularly revealing bikinis.
Brandy lowered her sunglasses."Back from the wilds, are we?"
"Yeah we hiked a good ways on the Appalachian Trail." Whitey lied.
While loading up our supplies, R.W. changed into his swimming trunks as he was going to brave the frigid water with Mia and Brandy. We were invited to join them, but for now, provisions had to be stored or iced down. 'This isn't turning out to a good little holiday' I thought as we drove up the steep lane leading to our back side lodgings. Coming around the bend we saw two other vehicles, a mud caked Jeep and Gold Dodge Charger. "New neighbors." Whitey chuckled as we parked. Just as Bear and Denny pulled in beside us the door next to ours opened and out stepped a rather portly man, probably in his late forties with a shaved head, plaid shorts and white Tshirt bearing the image of Larry Flynt. He regarded us with a nod and crooked smile. Behind him was a woman which had all of us staring. This was either his wife, lady friend or by her attire could be in the local entertainment business. She wore what appeared to be an extremely short silver sparkly haltered party dress, black fishnet stockings and high heel cowgirl boots. Her long shag cut mane was of three or more different colors. Although still somewhat shapely, in the face, she looked to be in her mid fifties. She gave us a wink while getting into the Dodge with her companion. As they drove off there came a cooling breeze down the hillside and I filled my lungs with good mountain air. Thinking about our bit of trading with Driskill, I had the feeling this night would be unusually interesting. Having taken Mescaline before as well as chewed some peyote buttons a few years back while traveling through Arizona, I kind of knew what to expect and pondered how it would play out here. Here at the Colony House, at one time or another, I had been under the influence of just about everything, but could somewhat keep my cool. It was the other fellows which concerned me, especially Whitey. While tripping and not provoked, Bear would usually blather away. The same held true with Denny who was weirdly entertaining during such occasions. I recalled the time him, Bear and I were doing some purple micro-dot back in 1973 and out of the blue came up with a poem -
Micro Dottie
She's quite a hottie
She's inside my head
Held by a purple tentacle
While she leads me to bed
"Come with me" she said
Yeah Micro Dottie
With provisions unloaded, Whitey guzzled down three beers in rapid succession, then got into his shorts to take a dip down at the pool. He was a little disappointed due to his only getting two cases of Budweiser instead of three. There just wasn't enough room in Mia's small car for another case of beer.
"So Denny, you're not going down to the pool?" Bear inquired while storing the mescaline in a mint tin and putting it in his mini-fridge. I however knew Denny was being more reserved if not more cautious as Whitey would no doubt be a bother at such a setting. No he would await a better time and place to attempt making a play on Brandy or perhaps even Mia. I had experienced such weirdly humorous situations before with these brothers. No matter how cultured and debonair they appeared, after a little too much alcohol, both would transform into rabid critters, often at each other's throat. Mia of course would encourage this bizarre rivalry between the brothers and seemed to derive some weird pleasure from it, but now Whitey was in the mix so I could expect anything to happen. Fortunately Bear was on hand to break up any badger fights.
"Nah, I'm going to take it easy with you fellows." Denny replied and asked: "So when are we going to pop that mescaline?"
"After everyone gets back from the pool and we have a bite to eat." Bear returned then opened another ale.
"We got ten hits between seven people." I reminded them.
"We three do two apiece and if any of the others want to come along on this trip, they can do one." Bear stated.
"But Whitey is bigger than Denny, wouldn't he need to do two?" I asked. To which both Bear and Denny laughed and had me pondering possibilities. "Yeah you guys are right, I wouldn't want to see Whitey on two."
"Thank you." Bear chuckled. "We would have both law enforcement and representatives from the nearest state mental hospital here with guns and nets."
Denny looked at Bear and I with a little uncertainty. "You think we can handle it? Scott was pretty fucked up on two."
"Come on Denny, who do you think you're talking to here? All three of us are seasoned troopers." Bear returned with a roar of laughter. "Right after dinner we'll see who's coming along on this trip."
Of course both R.W. and Whitey had let the cat out of the bag by telling Brandy and Mia we had in our possession ten hits of organic mescaline. During dinner Brandy informed us she had did acid before, but Mia never experimented with hallucinogens. Mia did however inform us she had read a couple of Carlos Castaneda books and was curious. With that Bear rose from his chair and said: "Well start cleaning up and I'll get things ready.
With grilling utensils cleaned and paper plates, food scraps and other such trash bagged up and hauled to the dumpster, Bear pulled out the mint tin. Like some hippy cult leader he placed a capsule apiece on Brandy's, Mia's, R.W.'s and Whitey's tongues. He, Denny and I swallowed the other six. Then Denny and I blended another batch of weed-hashish smoking mixture which would blaze a trace to higher elevations. Whitey as usual swilled one beer after another while ogling both young women present. Denny, with a mescal and grapefruit juice in one hand and a joint in the other spoke up. "We are about to enter other dimensions
and should come and go as a group so no one gets lost. We got to stick together."
"Give me a fucking break!" Whitey protested. "I've did two four way hits of blotter before."
"And would of ended up at the loony bin if we hadn't of tied you to a chair up in Flip's barn." Bear added. "If you get all crazy like that again, I'll knock your ass out into the day after
tomorrow." I remember that night well, both Whitey and my cousin Charlie had mistakenly consumed the equivalent of eight hits of blotter each thinking it to be only two. Charlie busied himself with magic marker hieroglyphics all over the plywood ceiling, while Whitey thought something was after him and would not venture outside even to urinate which he did in an empty half gallon rum bottle. Within an hour he imagined Bear, Flip and I to be what was stalking him. It was after he began brandishing his large bottle of piss at us did Bear put a sleeper hold on Whitey, sat him in an old wooden dining room chair. Flip bound him with nylon cord. A minute or two later he awoke, still tripping his brains out, begging Bear not to eat him. Bear cracked open a beer, put it to Whitey's lips, allowed him a good quaff and said: "If i was going to eat you, I wouldn't offer you a drink. Now shut the fuck up and watch TV or I'll gag you." With that Bear switched on Flip's small portable black and white television set. Whitey quietly watched an episode of The Six Million Dollar Man and drooled, occasionally issuing a chattering sound when he wanted Beer to give him a drink. After another two hours we released Whitey and allowed him to shoot pool with us even though he was knocking the wrong balls in pockets or completely off the table. All the while Charlie illustrated the life of what he called McDick the Cat on half of Flip's ceiling. Out of the numerous drawings, I saw only one that vaguely resembled a feline and it looked to have seal-like flippers.
Taking one hit of mescaline, Whitey wasn't really my concern when I saw a quick beam of pale green light shoot down from the ceiling fan light in Bear and Denny's room. 'Odd' I thought, 'Usually I feel something first before the initial hallucinations begin.'
'There it was again.' Another such beam shot down and was absorbed by the dark green motel carpet leaving a temporary phosphorescent stain. With that I stood up and felt as if my feet left the floor. It was almost like I floated into the bathroom upon a breeze. The effects had come on swiftly due in part to my eating sparingly during dinner. Ready to urinate, I saw the toilet water turn colors and slowly begin to swirl into a face.
"Fuck you Mr. Yap. You're one of Bear's amigos so talk to him. I'm sure he'll be in soon." Then I swiftly my eyes to look at the wall instead before finishing up and floating out.
Denny took a good look at me and said: "Oh yeah. the bus is here."
The motel room seemed huge and everyone far away from where I stood just outside the bathroom. Instead of rays shooting down from the ceiling fan light, the whole room and everyone present were bathed in a pale green glow. I was mindful enough not to look in the mirror above the sink behind me. A Meskwaki friend had once warned Bear and I that looking at one's reflection while under the influence of hallucinogens could prove dangerous. Denny was not so cautious as he rose from the edge of his bed and looked into the mirror. Combing his hair he wanted to know: "Are the walls all wavy to you?"
"Now that you've mentioned it, yes."
"It's like I'm looking at the placid surface of a pond." He said while gazing into the mirror. "Check it out, Skid."
"I'd rather not." I returned, aware of a tremendous thirst and tightening sensation in my stomach. Opening an ice chest to pluck out a brew, I could feel a numbing cold spreading from fingers to shoulder. This chill subsided after quaffing down a half an ale which along with dinner I vomited up minutes later in the toilet. Brushing my teeth, The toothpaste tasted like sand. While rinsing, I shot a swift glance into the mirror, but averted my eyes. Oddly enough my stomach felt much better afterwards. Whitey appeared to be having no such problems. He sat on the edge of Bear's bed guzzling down beer. "Shit man! This taste like fucking ditch water!" He hissed. I had to laugh while taking a good gander at his visage. Bottom lip stuck out and brown eyes bugging. Then he started laughing at me. For a few minutes there both of us could not quell our howling laughter. He called me - "Moon Critter Drowning Otter" and I called him a "Cracker Ass Cracker" Then everyone joined in with their own hysterical laughter. Brandy then called me Moon Critter which for some odd reason prompted me to lean down and kiss her eyelids. "No one has ever done that before." She said, but I was now temporarily occupied with the bluish glow just above R.W.'s fluffy hair. He started to say something, but it couldn't get out the words. It was quite obvious we were all feeling the effects of those mescaline capsules. Everyone with the exception of Mia were attempting to talk at once while she gazed up at the ceiling light mumbling something or another about life not ever being the same.
Two cigarettes in a row I lit the filtered ends and would of did the same to a third, but received some assistance from Brandy who had one with me. She appeared to be handling everything rather well. Bear on the other hand announced: "I got to get some fresh air." Brandy, Denny and I decided to join him...
Once out side I enjoyed the mescaline's effects much more. No longer closed in by those wavy walls, an extreme sense of freedom swept through my soul. I felt extremely light on my feet as we followed Bear across the small footbridge to where his truck was parked. Even under the influence of a heavy duty hallucinogen, Denny attempted to make time with Brandy. It was pathetic yet humorous "You know back inside I was looking at you and thinking how much you look like a young Elke Sommer." At that she smiled and said: "I looked at you in there and saw your whole face turn fluorescent optic yellow and fuzzy like a brand new tennis ball." Then taking a good look at Bear and I she began singing a song she had heard in the motel room before we stepped out.
"Wild thing,
you make my heart sing.
You make everything
groovy..."
"Whatever happened to the Troggs." I asked while catching glimmers off gravel in the asphalt and hearing a humming sound coming from the motel. Bear was amusing himself by moving his cigarette in circles and watching it's glow.
"They could never top Wild Thing, especially here in America."
Forgetting my asking about the Troggs I inquired: "Who?"
"The Troggs." Denny replied as he gazed up into the forest which was alive with various early evening bird songs. Stomping out his cigarette and tossing it in the truck bed, he looked up into the vividly green Appalachian foliage. Something must of stirred Bear's soul as he lifted his shaggy head and issued another long weird roar.
"Pipe down there Aioulf the Berserk. Remember we now have neighbors." I warned, but no sooner than those words left my mouth a door opened and our neighbor with the Larry Flynt Tshirt stepped out, looked at us, laughed and shouted: "Oh, you guys. I thought it was a rabid dog!" He then added: "Have fun, but don't hurt yourselves!" With that he stepped back inside.
"Wise words." Denny said then inquired if we wanted to take a walk up the adjacent dirt road. "Sounds good." Bear returned with a wild glint in his grey eyes. Without another word he began lumbering towards the dirt road.
Stopping many times along the way as we ascended to marvel at sights we normally wouldn't notce like leaf shapes, an orb spider, large millipede and fence swift lizard, it took us about an hour to walk the two hundred yards or so where Newt Pond was located. We had named this little clear spring fed pond years ago because of all the newts it contained. Located upon a level rise where the woods somewhat opened up to highland meadow, Newt Pond was extremely picturesque and even more so under the influence of mescaline. On one side grew cane and cattails, but on our side was a thick log long enough for us all to sit. There were several species of frogs as well as many Notophthalmus viridescens, commonly known as the eastern newt. The clear mountain water allowed an excellent view of their green bodies and bright red dots on their backs. "An amphibian Shangri-La." I mused aloud while watching a large Bullfrog gulp down a smaller cricket frog. From the cane and cattails came a profusion of various chirps and trills Two purple butterflies fluttered high enough over the pond to avoid any darting sticky tongue. "Oh it's like a fairy land!" Brandy gleefully commented while softly clapping her hands. Denny raised both of his hands and said: "This is a place of magic."
"Something's different about this place." Bear stated, "I can feel it."
"I bet you can." I laughed, "Especially while tripping." Denny with hands still held aloft said: "This isn't the man made acid that we know. This is allowing access to another world. The world that has been here long before the first subhuman primate came down from the trees and tread clumsily on two feet."
"I'll say." I added, "A world of wild spirits."
"Let's summon one." Denny suggested.
"Let's not." I returned. Even under the influence of a heavy duty hallucinogenic drug, I did not unnecessarily trouble the spirits, especially while away from home. However Denny went on with his foolish invocation.
"Oh beautiful water nymph let us have a look at you!"
"Knock it off Denny." I scolded, "You're in no position or condition to fuck around with the spirit world."
"Never a better time." he returned.
"Well then my friend, if something comes a visiting, you can entertain it."
"We're the visitors." Bear said while looking down at the tiny spring peeper perched upon a maple seedling. The little frog was matching Bear's stare. "Now that's a rare sight, especially for this time of year." I stated, "Usually you hear but don't see spring peepers." Denny however took the opportunity to wow us. Gracefully pointing a finger at the tiny frog he said: "There I've summoned a nature spirit that has taken the form of a woodland creature."
"Or it has summoned us." Brandy returned, adding: "I wish I had my camera."
With the coming of dusk a great horned and barred owl's hooting began welcoming the night. Were we sat the chirping and trilling grew even more louder. Then the first misty tendrils of drifting fog arrived weirdly contrasting with the deepening gloom. Bear suggested we head back down to the Colony House, but Denny wanted to stick around and have another cigarette before departing.
Then suddenly all the chirping and trilling ceased. In the last bit of dusk's dim light I saw something begin to materialize out of the pond. Bear and Denny gazed at the pond with some surprise as well, but I wasn't sure if they were seeing what my eyes did.
It looked to be no more than four foot tall and of human shape, but clearly inhuman. Upon it's sloping head was a tangle of aquatic plants worn like a wig. Below that were a pair of bulging orbs which even in the gloom shined like smooth onyx. Upon it's protruding mouth was a strange strange lipless grin. In the deepening gloom I could also see mottled markings on it's wet shiny skin. I couldn't tell if this being had legs, but could plainly see it's short arms, large hands and stubby fingers. Looking over at Bear I saw him slowly rising. He whispered loud enough for us to hear - "I think it's time to get the fuck out of here." and with that we all slowly rose from our log seat, turned, then departed.
Brandy kept asking why we were leaving, but Bear, Denny and I said nothing as we descended the dirt road back to our lodgings.
The Colony House's lights were a welcoming sight and as we emerged from the forest I felt much more at ease. Gathering around Bear's truck we stopped for a smoke and attempt to regain our composure before joining the others inside. Brandy asked again: "Why did we have to leave that beautiful little spot?" His pupils extremely dilated, he gave me a troubled look and then turned to her and replied: "Something up there in that pond."
"What?"
"Don't know, but I saw two glowing eyes peering at me through the mist." He returned then asked me: "What was it, a forest devil?" but before I could answer Denny replied:
"She was a beautiful Nixy. We should of stayed for awhile and talked to her."
"Beautiful? What the hell did you see? I'll wager it wasn't what I saw." I fired off, the image of that 'amphibiod' creature still flashing in my mind.
"She was beautiful." He said with a weird smile, "A water nymph. She had ivory white skin with long glossy black hair and her eyes were like opals. She was radiant!"
"Radiant?" Both Bear and I glared in disbelief as Brandy looked at us and began giggling. Obviously she was quite entertained by our yammering while I was still somewhat freaked out. Denny then inquired, "Just what did you see?"
After taking a long drag off my cigarette, I replied: "It looked like a cross between a salamander and a human with big shiny black eyes. It had salamander like arms, but I don't think it had any legs. I thought to have saw a long flat tail swish the surface once." Having another puff, I continued by informing them what our Meskwaki friend Lee and his sister Lenora once told me about freshwater spirits. "Lampekwin'wuk, Nibiinaabeg, Sapowanilnu, Nehwas and a number of other names given to them by the Algonquian tribes. Powerful beings, but not dangerous. She said some of them can be frightened off by loud noises, especially if they want to take a man into their realm to marry. Still it wasn't something I wanted to look at in this condition." At that Brandy laughed and said: "You guys were just hallucinating! After all each of you did two hits of that mescaline. I saw some stuff too, but no creatures or nymphs in the pond."
"So what did you see?" Denny asked.
"Those newts in that pond had little red lights on their back and they were dancing."
"Dancing?"
"Yeah like a water ballet." Upon hearing that Denny broke into some weird wiggling dance and said: "Good shit, huh? Lets get in and get something to drink.
Bear pounded on the door with his huge paw-like hand while issuing a low rumbling growl. "Open the fucking door!" The outside light set his long shaggy brass colored hair aglow as he stood upon the concrete walkway. "I kick it in!" He threatened. Stepping towards the big man I informed him: "I got a key to my room. We can get in. We have adjoining rooms, remember?"
Poised to send a huge foot into the door, the snarl left his face and was replaced with a grin: "Oh yeah. We'll do that. Good thinking, Skid."
"That's what friends are for, Skid." I returned.
As the four of us ambled in front of my room's door, our neighbor's opened up, but this time it was the woman with different colored hair. From what I could see she wore a lacy black and midnight blue evening gown which was slit up to her mid left thigh.
"Oh good, it's you." she happily said.
"Excuse me?" Bear returned with a broad smile.
"I thought you were that asshole, Ray."
"Ray?" Denny asked. Like Brandy and Bear I gawked as she stepped out on the walkway in her Fredericks of Hollywood evening wear. 'Water sprites and motel nymphs.' I thought as my eyes feasted upon this night flower. "So Ray was that kat in the Larry Flynt Tshirt?"
"That's Ray. Fucking psychotic bastard."
"I say, what became of Ray?" Denny said followed by a sweeping bow and an introduction."
"Oh sorry." she offered in apology and added: "I'm Tanya. Ray was my boyfriend, but his wife yanked him out of the doorway about a half hour ago just as your friends were walking out."
"Our friends? Where did they go?" Bear inquired.
"Out for a stroll, I suppose."
"Wife yanked him out?" Denny chuckled. Brandy appeared very much amused upon this amusing evening. "Oh that's too bad, want to come in and talk about it over a drink?" she invited and then introduced herself to Tanya.
"Sure. Just let me grab my cigarettes."
Upon entering we saw that Whitey was passed out on the bed. He held a can of Budweiser on his chest. Mia and R.W. were absent. Coming out of the radio was Edgar and Johnny Winter's Tobacco Road. "Home sweet home." I muttered while watching Tanya sashayed barefooted over to my bed and sit down. It appeared to me that her hair was changing colors under the ceiling fan light which was still emitting a pale green glow. I was still hallucinating, but felt more at ease while doing so. Certainly nothing I'd care to do while operating a motor vehicle or be among the general public while under it's influence, but Tanya seemed safe enough and the Colony House gave me an overall sense of security.
"May as well make the most of a Friday Night." Tanya stated and inquired what we had to drink. Denny ran down the selection and she requested Crown Royal on the rocks. After having a herself long quaff of the smooth Canadian whisky while Bear, Denny and I ogled, Tanya said: "That son of a bitch told me that Liz had left him."
"Liz?" Denny chuckled, "I had an ex-wife named Liz."
"Yeah Liz, a behemoth of a bitch. I'm more worried about that creature coming back here than I am Ray. I told the both of them a little while ago if either showed up again I'd call my brother Kurt. He's a deputy sheriff. Really I don't think he or his wife will be coming back so there should be no worries." she crossed her legs and wiggled her gold painted toes. At that Whitey stirred back into wakefulness. First one eye opened and then the other before tilting his head forward so as to have a drink of beer. Tossing the empty onto the floor, he sputtered and coughed abit then raised up into a sitting position. His head first turned to the ice chest, then he looked around and saw Tanya sitting on my bed. "Good morning." He mumbled and asked her to fetch him a cold one.
"It ain't morning you sot!" Bear growled. "It ain't even eleven a clock yet and don't be ordering our guest around like some bar wench!"
"Oh I don't mind." Tanya assured Bear then gracefully slid off the bed in her lacy evening attire. "It's in the cooler." he muttered while I took a close look at him. "How in the fuck did you fall asleep on that shit?"
"What shit?" Whitey replied, but Bear regarded me seriously with his dilated eyes and I knew what he was getting at. A stranger sat among us and mentioning drugs seemed not a good ideal, however,
"That mescaline? I got a good buzz off of it, but it ain't like doing a hit of blotter." Whitey dryly replied as Tanya handed him an ale. She had went into the wrong ice chest. He looked at the bottle and laughed then slid off the bed himself. Since Tayna had opened it, Whitey passed it to me and got himself a can of Budweiser. Surprisingly polite, he thanked Tanya anyway and popped his beer open. Guzzling the can's entire contents down, he politely belched into a cupped hand, then took a good look at Tanya. "Ahhhhyeaaah!" he rumbled, "Whooo do weee have here?"
"I'm Tanya." she replied with a toothy smile.
"Well good morning, Tanya. My name is Chris, but everyone calls me Mr. Whitehouse."
"I told you it ain't morning yet!" Bear growled. Paying Bear no heed, Whitey's eyes locked onto Tanya's evening gown as if they were ripping it off her off her body. "Hey aren't you staying next door to us?"
"That's me."
"Then welcome aboard." He chuckled, still ogling our guest as she bent down to get him another beer. "You don't have to wait on that man." Bear told her, but she repeated: "Hey I really don't mind. Let's party!"
"I heard that!" Brandy added as she poured Tanya and herself some whisky. Then our guest inquired: "Y'all got anything to smoke?" Bear, Denny and I glanced at each other, but she went on to inform us: "Ray left his weed and booze in the room. He's not allowed to have it at home."
"Who the hell is Ray?" Whitey asked then proceeded to guzzle down another can of beer. "Her date." Brandy replied. He had to go home."
"Wanna smoke some hashish?" Denny offered.
"I've never smoked that before. I only smoke weed when out with Ray."
"Well don't you think it's about time?" Whitey slurred then added: "It'll be alright, you're in safe hands." He turned and flashed me a wolfish smile. "Right, Skid?"
"Oh that's right, Skid." I replied while attempting to ponder what sort of insanity would ensue. A comely young college who was peering into the amber depths of her plastic motel courtesy cup filled with whisky along with an extremely vivacious middle aged woman in lingerie who wasn't going to let a Friday night at this motel go to waste,
Bear, in an weirdly addled substance induced state, he had been known to throw a woman over his shoulder without a hint of intentions and lumber off into the darkness,
Denny, obviously still tripping his brains out, but mindful enough to attempt wooing any available females with his wit and debonair. Somewhat of a ladies' man, tonight his lines were often garbled gibberish.
Whitey on the other hand would sooner or later shed his thin veneer of gentlemanly politeness and just come out and say what was on his beer sodden mind, no matter how lewd. Surprisingly enough, his crude approach often garnered favorable results. Then there was me with a head full of mescaline attempting to take in this strange scene. There were no encounters with Mescalito, but I looked upon a water spirit and now for some odd reason felt like dancing to the Pink Floyd music playing on our boom box. Rising from the chair, I experienced a massive head rush, but afterwards felt as agile as a panther. Approaching the ladies I inquired: "Anyone care to dance?" to which both Brandy and Tanya extended their hands. "I suppose all three of us move about in this limited space, but,,"
"I'll dance with one of you." Bear swiftly offered which struck me odd as he was not the dancing type, unless of course those times around a campfire in a heathenish manner when completely snockered out of his mind. Brandy leaped up and rushed pass me to take Bear's paw-like hand leaving me with Tanya, which proved most pleasurable once we made body contact. Once Tanya's slowly exhaled breath warmed my neck and her rhythmic grinding set me a tingling, I was hooked, at least for tonight. Her heavily made up eyes were the hue of the morning sky reflecting upon a cascading stream. I stuck my face into Tanya's multi-colored hair then took in a sweetly seductive scent while sniffing her neck as we moved our feet back and forth over by the sink. Taking a glance at Bear with Brandy's arms around his bull neck as he held her aloft which was probably better than him stepping on the young lady's feet.
It was all so blissfully surreal and then came the sound of knocking upon my motel room door...
Brandy lowered her sunglasses."Back from the wilds, are we?"
"Yeah we hiked a good ways on the Appalachian Trail." Whitey lied.
While loading up our supplies, R.W. changed into his swimming trunks as he was going to brave the frigid water with Mia and Brandy. We were invited to join them, but for now, provisions had to be stored or iced down. 'This isn't turning out to a good little holiday' I thought as we drove up the steep lane leading to our back side lodgings. Coming around the bend we saw two other vehicles, a mud caked Jeep and Gold Dodge Charger. "New neighbors." Whitey chuckled as we parked. Just as Bear and Denny pulled in beside us the door next to ours opened and out stepped a rather portly man, probably in his late forties with a shaved head, plaid shorts and white Tshirt bearing the image of Larry Flynt. He regarded us with a nod and crooked smile. Behind him was a woman which had all of us staring. This was either his wife, lady friend or by her attire could be in the local entertainment business. She wore what appeared to be an extremely short silver sparkly haltered party dress, black fishnet stockings and high heel cowgirl boots. Her long shag cut mane was of three or more different colors. Although still somewhat shapely, in the face, she looked to be in her mid fifties. She gave us a wink while getting into the Dodge with her companion. As they drove off there came a cooling breeze down the hillside and I filled my lungs with good mountain air. Thinking about our bit of trading with Driskill, I had the feeling this night would be unusually interesting. Having taken Mescaline before as well as chewed some peyote buttons a few years back while traveling through Arizona, I kind of knew what to expect and pondered how it would play out here. Here at the Colony House, at one time or another, I had been under the influence of just about everything, but could somewhat keep my cool. It was the other fellows which concerned me, especially Whitey. While tripping and not provoked, Bear would usually blather away. The same held true with Denny who was weirdly entertaining during such occasions. I recalled the time him, Bear and I were doing some purple micro-dot back in 1973 and out of the blue came up with a poem -
Micro Dottie
She's quite a hottie
She's inside my head
Held by a purple tentacle
While she leads me to bed
"Come with me" she said
Yeah Micro Dottie
With provisions unloaded, Whitey guzzled down three beers in rapid succession, then got into his shorts to take a dip down at the pool. He was a little disappointed due to his only getting two cases of Budweiser instead of three. There just wasn't enough room in Mia's small car for another case of beer.
"So Denny, you're not going down to the pool?" Bear inquired while storing the mescaline in a mint tin and putting it in his mini-fridge. I however knew Denny was being more reserved if not more cautious as Whitey would no doubt be a bother at such a setting. No he would await a better time and place to attempt making a play on Brandy or perhaps even Mia. I had experienced such weirdly humorous situations before with these brothers. No matter how cultured and debonair they appeared, after a little too much alcohol, both would transform into rabid critters, often at each other's throat. Mia of course would encourage this bizarre rivalry between the brothers and seemed to derive some weird pleasure from it, but now Whitey was in the mix so I could expect anything to happen. Fortunately Bear was on hand to break up any badger fights.
"Nah, I'm going to take it easy with you fellows." Denny replied and asked: "So when are we going to pop that mescaline?"
"After everyone gets back from the pool and we have a bite to eat." Bear returned then opened another ale.
"We got ten hits between seven people." I reminded them.
"We three do two apiece and if any of the others want to come along on this trip, they can do one." Bear stated.
"But Whitey is bigger than Denny, wouldn't he need to do two?" I asked. To which both Bear and Denny laughed and had me pondering possibilities. "Yeah you guys are right, I wouldn't want to see Whitey on two."
"Thank you." Bear chuckled. "We would have both law enforcement and representatives from the nearest state mental hospital here with guns and nets."
Denny looked at Bear and I with a little uncertainty. "You think we can handle it? Scott was pretty fucked up on two."
"Come on Denny, who do you think you're talking to here? All three of us are seasoned troopers." Bear returned with a roar of laughter. "Right after dinner we'll see who's coming along on this trip."
Of course both R.W. and Whitey had let the cat out of the bag by telling Brandy and Mia we had in our possession ten hits of organic mescaline. During dinner Brandy informed us she had did acid before, but Mia never experimented with hallucinogens. Mia did however inform us she had read a couple of Carlos Castaneda books and was curious. With that Bear rose from his chair and said: "Well start cleaning up and I'll get things ready.
With grilling utensils cleaned and paper plates, food scraps and other such trash bagged up and hauled to the dumpster, Bear pulled out the mint tin. Like some hippy cult leader he placed a capsule apiece on Brandy's, Mia's, R.W.'s and Whitey's tongues. He, Denny and I swallowed the other six. Then Denny and I blended another batch of weed-hashish smoking mixture which would blaze a trace to higher elevations. Whitey as usual swilled one beer after another while ogling both young women present. Denny, with a mescal and grapefruit juice in one hand and a joint in the other spoke up. "We are about to enter other dimensions
and should come and go as a group so no one gets lost. We got to stick together."
"Give me a fucking break!" Whitey protested. "I've did two four way hits of blotter before."
"And would of ended up at the loony bin if we hadn't of tied you to a chair up in Flip's barn." Bear added. "If you get all crazy like that again, I'll knock your ass out into the day after
tomorrow." I remember that night well, both Whitey and my cousin Charlie had mistakenly consumed the equivalent of eight hits of blotter each thinking it to be only two. Charlie busied himself with magic marker hieroglyphics all over the plywood ceiling, while Whitey thought something was after him and would not venture outside even to urinate which he did in an empty half gallon rum bottle. Within an hour he imagined Bear, Flip and I to be what was stalking him. It was after he began brandishing his large bottle of piss at us did Bear put a sleeper hold on Whitey, sat him in an old wooden dining room chair. Flip bound him with nylon cord. A minute or two later he awoke, still tripping his brains out, begging Bear not to eat him. Bear cracked open a beer, put it to Whitey's lips, allowed him a good quaff and said: "If i was going to eat you, I wouldn't offer you a drink. Now shut the fuck up and watch TV or I'll gag you." With that Bear switched on Flip's small portable black and white television set. Whitey quietly watched an episode of The Six Million Dollar Man and drooled, occasionally issuing a chattering sound when he wanted Beer to give him a drink. After another two hours we released Whitey and allowed him to shoot pool with us even though he was knocking the wrong balls in pockets or completely off the table. All the while Charlie illustrated the life of what he called McDick the Cat on half of Flip's ceiling. Out of the numerous drawings, I saw only one that vaguely resembled a feline and it looked to have seal-like flippers.
Taking one hit of mescaline, Whitey wasn't really my concern when I saw a quick beam of pale green light shoot down from the ceiling fan light in Bear and Denny's room. 'Odd' I thought, 'Usually I feel something first before the initial hallucinations begin.'
'There it was again.' Another such beam shot down and was absorbed by the dark green motel carpet leaving a temporary phosphorescent stain. With that I stood up and felt as if my feet left the floor. It was almost like I floated into the bathroom upon a breeze. The effects had come on swiftly due in part to my eating sparingly during dinner. Ready to urinate, I saw the toilet water turn colors and slowly begin to swirl into a face.
"Fuck you Mr. Yap. You're one of Bear's amigos so talk to him. I'm sure he'll be in soon." Then I swiftly my eyes to look at the wall instead before finishing up and floating out.
Denny took a good look at me and said: "Oh yeah. the bus is here."
The motel room seemed huge and everyone far away from where I stood just outside the bathroom. Instead of rays shooting down from the ceiling fan light, the whole room and everyone present were bathed in a pale green glow. I was mindful enough not to look in the mirror above the sink behind me. A Meskwaki friend had once warned Bear and I that looking at one's reflection while under the influence of hallucinogens could prove dangerous. Denny was not so cautious as he rose from the edge of his bed and looked into the mirror. Combing his hair he wanted to know: "Are the walls all wavy to you?"
"Now that you've mentioned it, yes."
"It's like I'm looking at the placid surface of a pond." He said while gazing into the mirror. "Check it out, Skid."
"I'd rather not." I returned, aware of a tremendous thirst and tightening sensation in my stomach. Opening an ice chest to pluck out a brew, I could feel a numbing cold spreading from fingers to shoulder. This chill subsided after quaffing down a half an ale which along with dinner I vomited up minutes later in the toilet. Brushing my teeth, The toothpaste tasted like sand. While rinsing, I shot a swift glance into the mirror, but averted my eyes. Oddly enough my stomach felt much better afterwards. Whitey appeared to be having no such problems. He sat on the edge of Bear's bed guzzling down beer. "Shit man! This taste like fucking ditch water!" He hissed. I had to laugh while taking a good gander at his visage. Bottom lip stuck out and brown eyes bugging. Then he started laughing at me. For a few minutes there both of us could not quell our howling laughter. He called me - "Moon Critter Drowning Otter" and I called him a "Cracker Ass Cracker" Then everyone joined in with their own hysterical laughter. Brandy then called me Moon Critter which for some odd reason prompted me to lean down and kiss her eyelids. "No one has ever done that before." She said, but I was now temporarily occupied with the bluish glow just above R.W.'s fluffy hair. He started to say something, but it couldn't get out the words. It was quite obvious we were all feeling the effects of those mescaline capsules. Everyone with the exception of Mia were attempting to talk at once while she gazed up at the ceiling light mumbling something or another about life not ever being the same.
Two cigarettes in a row I lit the filtered ends and would of did the same to a third, but received some assistance from Brandy who had one with me. She appeared to be handling everything rather well. Bear on the other hand announced: "I got to get some fresh air." Brandy, Denny and I decided to join him...
Once out side I enjoyed the mescaline's effects much more. No longer closed in by those wavy walls, an extreme sense of freedom swept through my soul. I felt extremely light on my feet as we followed Bear across the small footbridge to where his truck was parked. Even under the influence of a heavy duty hallucinogen, Denny attempted to make time with Brandy. It was pathetic yet humorous "You know back inside I was looking at you and thinking how much you look like a young Elke Sommer." At that she smiled and said: "I looked at you in there and saw your whole face turn fluorescent optic yellow and fuzzy like a brand new tennis ball." Then taking a good look at Bear and I she began singing a song she had heard in the motel room before we stepped out.
"Wild thing,
you make my heart sing.
You make everything
groovy..."
"Whatever happened to the Troggs." I asked while catching glimmers off gravel in the asphalt and hearing a humming sound coming from the motel. Bear was amusing himself by moving his cigarette in circles and watching it's glow.
"They could never top Wild Thing, especially here in America."
Forgetting my asking about the Troggs I inquired: "Who?"
"The Troggs." Denny replied as he gazed up into the forest which was alive with various early evening bird songs. Stomping out his cigarette and tossing it in the truck bed, he looked up into the vividly green Appalachian foliage. Something must of stirred Bear's soul as he lifted his shaggy head and issued another long weird roar.
"Pipe down there Aioulf the Berserk. Remember we now have neighbors." I warned, but no sooner than those words left my mouth a door opened and our neighbor with the Larry Flynt Tshirt stepped out, looked at us, laughed and shouted: "Oh, you guys. I thought it was a rabid dog!" He then added: "Have fun, but don't hurt yourselves!" With that he stepped back inside.
"Wise words." Denny said then inquired if we wanted to take a walk up the adjacent dirt road. "Sounds good." Bear returned with a wild glint in his grey eyes. Without another word he began lumbering towards the dirt road.
Stopping many times along the way as we ascended to marvel at sights we normally wouldn't notce like leaf shapes, an orb spider, large millipede and fence swift lizard, it took us about an hour to walk the two hundred yards or so where Newt Pond was located. We had named this little clear spring fed pond years ago because of all the newts it contained. Located upon a level rise where the woods somewhat opened up to highland meadow, Newt Pond was extremely picturesque and even more so under the influence of mescaline. On one side grew cane and cattails, but on our side was a thick log long enough for us all to sit. There were several species of frogs as well as many Notophthalmus viridescens, commonly known as the eastern newt. The clear mountain water allowed an excellent view of their green bodies and bright red dots on their backs. "An amphibian Shangri-La." I mused aloud while watching a large Bullfrog gulp down a smaller cricket frog. From the cane and cattails came a profusion of various chirps and trills Two purple butterflies fluttered high enough over the pond to avoid any darting sticky tongue. "Oh it's like a fairy land!" Brandy gleefully commented while softly clapping her hands. Denny raised both of his hands and said: "This is a place of magic."
"Something's different about this place." Bear stated, "I can feel it."
"I bet you can." I laughed, "Especially while tripping." Denny with hands still held aloft said: "This isn't the man made acid that we know. This is allowing access to another world. The world that has been here long before the first subhuman primate came down from the trees and tread clumsily on two feet."
"I'll say." I added, "A world of wild spirits."
"Let's summon one." Denny suggested.
"Let's not." I returned. Even under the influence of a heavy duty hallucinogenic drug, I did not unnecessarily trouble the spirits, especially while away from home. However Denny went on with his foolish invocation.
"Oh beautiful water nymph let us have a look at you!"
"Knock it off Denny." I scolded, "You're in no position or condition to fuck around with the spirit world."
"Never a better time." he returned.
"Well then my friend, if something comes a visiting, you can entertain it."
"We're the visitors." Bear said while looking down at the tiny spring peeper perched upon a maple seedling. The little frog was matching Bear's stare. "Now that's a rare sight, especially for this time of year." I stated, "Usually you hear but don't see spring peepers." Denny however took the opportunity to wow us. Gracefully pointing a finger at the tiny frog he said: "There I've summoned a nature spirit that has taken the form of a woodland creature."
"Or it has summoned us." Brandy returned, adding: "I wish I had my camera."
With the coming of dusk a great horned and barred owl's hooting began welcoming the night. Were we sat the chirping and trilling grew even more louder. Then the first misty tendrils of drifting fog arrived weirdly contrasting with the deepening gloom. Bear suggested we head back down to the Colony House, but Denny wanted to stick around and have another cigarette before departing.
Then suddenly all the chirping and trilling ceased. In the last bit of dusk's dim light I saw something begin to materialize out of the pond. Bear and Denny gazed at the pond with some surprise as well, but I wasn't sure if they were seeing what my eyes did.
It looked to be no more than four foot tall and of human shape, but clearly inhuman. Upon it's sloping head was a tangle of aquatic plants worn like a wig. Below that were a pair of bulging orbs which even in the gloom shined like smooth onyx. Upon it's protruding mouth was a strange strange lipless grin. In the deepening gloom I could also see mottled markings on it's wet shiny skin. I couldn't tell if this being had legs, but could plainly see it's short arms, large hands and stubby fingers. Looking over at Bear I saw him slowly rising. He whispered loud enough for us to hear - "I think it's time to get the fuck out of here." and with that we all slowly rose from our log seat, turned, then departed.
Brandy kept asking why we were leaving, but Bear, Denny and I said nothing as we descended the dirt road back to our lodgings.
The Colony House's lights were a welcoming sight and as we emerged from the forest I felt much more at ease. Gathering around Bear's truck we stopped for a smoke and attempt to regain our composure before joining the others inside. Brandy asked again: "Why did we have to leave that beautiful little spot?" His pupils extremely dilated, he gave me a troubled look and then turned to her and replied: "Something up there in that pond."
"What?"
"Don't know, but I saw two glowing eyes peering at me through the mist." He returned then asked me: "What was it, a forest devil?" but before I could answer Denny replied:
"She was a beautiful Nixy. We should of stayed for awhile and talked to her."
"Beautiful? What the hell did you see? I'll wager it wasn't what I saw." I fired off, the image of that 'amphibiod' creature still flashing in my mind.
"She was beautiful." He said with a weird smile, "A water nymph. She had ivory white skin with long glossy black hair and her eyes were like opals. She was radiant!"
"Radiant?" Both Bear and I glared in disbelief as Brandy looked at us and began giggling. Obviously she was quite entertained by our yammering while I was still somewhat freaked out. Denny then inquired, "Just what did you see?"
After taking a long drag off my cigarette, I replied: "It looked like a cross between a salamander and a human with big shiny black eyes. It had salamander like arms, but I don't think it had any legs. I thought to have saw a long flat tail swish the surface once." Having another puff, I continued by informing them what our Meskwaki friend Lee and his sister Lenora once told me about freshwater spirits. "Lampekwin'wuk, Nibiinaabeg, Sapowanilnu, Nehwas and a number of other names given to them by the Algonquian tribes. Powerful beings, but not dangerous. She said some of them can be frightened off by loud noises, especially if they want to take a man into their realm to marry. Still it wasn't something I wanted to look at in this condition." At that Brandy laughed and said: "You guys were just hallucinating! After all each of you did two hits of that mescaline. I saw some stuff too, but no creatures or nymphs in the pond."
"So what did you see?" Denny asked.
"Those newts in that pond had little red lights on their back and they were dancing."
"Dancing?"
"Yeah like a water ballet." Upon hearing that Denny broke into some weird wiggling dance and said: "Good shit, huh? Lets get in and get something to drink.
Bear pounded on the door with his huge paw-like hand while issuing a low rumbling growl. "Open the fucking door!" The outside light set his long shaggy brass colored hair aglow as he stood upon the concrete walkway. "I kick it in!" He threatened. Stepping towards the big man I informed him: "I got a key to my room. We can get in. We have adjoining rooms, remember?"
Poised to send a huge foot into the door, the snarl left his face and was replaced with a grin: "Oh yeah. We'll do that. Good thinking, Skid."
"That's what friends are for, Skid." I returned.
As the four of us ambled in front of my room's door, our neighbor's opened up, but this time it was the woman with different colored hair. From what I could see she wore a lacy black and midnight blue evening gown which was slit up to her mid left thigh.
"Oh good, it's you." she happily said.
"Excuse me?" Bear returned with a broad smile.
"I thought you were that asshole, Ray."
"Ray?" Denny asked. Like Brandy and Bear I gawked as she stepped out on the walkway in her Fredericks of Hollywood evening wear. 'Water sprites and motel nymphs.' I thought as my eyes feasted upon this night flower. "So Ray was that kat in the Larry Flynt Tshirt?"
"That's Ray. Fucking psychotic bastard."
"I say, what became of Ray?" Denny said followed by a sweeping bow and an introduction."
"Oh sorry." she offered in apology and added: "I'm Tanya. Ray was my boyfriend, but his wife yanked him out of the doorway about a half hour ago just as your friends were walking out."
"Our friends? Where did they go?" Bear inquired.
"Out for a stroll, I suppose."
"Wife yanked him out?" Denny chuckled. Brandy appeared very much amused upon this amusing evening. "Oh that's too bad, want to come in and talk about it over a drink?" she invited and then introduced herself to Tanya.
"Sure. Just let me grab my cigarettes."
Upon entering we saw that Whitey was passed out on the bed. He held a can of Budweiser on his chest. Mia and R.W. were absent. Coming out of the radio was Edgar and Johnny Winter's Tobacco Road. "Home sweet home." I muttered while watching Tanya sashayed barefooted over to my bed and sit down. It appeared to me that her hair was changing colors under the ceiling fan light which was still emitting a pale green glow. I was still hallucinating, but felt more at ease while doing so. Certainly nothing I'd care to do while operating a motor vehicle or be among the general public while under it's influence, but Tanya seemed safe enough and the Colony House gave me an overall sense of security.
"May as well make the most of a Friday Night." Tanya stated and inquired what we had to drink. Denny ran down the selection and she requested Crown Royal on the rocks. After having a herself long quaff of the smooth Canadian whisky while Bear, Denny and I ogled, Tanya said: "That son of a bitch told me that Liz had left him."
"Liz?" Denny chuckled, "I had an ex-wife named Liz."
"Yeah Liz, a behemoth of a bitch. I'm more worried about that creature coming back here than I am Ray. I told the both of them a little while ago if either showed up again I'd call my brother Kurt. He's a deputy sheriff. Really I don't think he or his wife will be coming back so there should be no worries." she crossed her legs and wiggled her gold painted toes. At that Whitey stirred back into wakefulness. First one eye opened and then the other before tilting his head forward so as to have a drink of beer. Tossing the empty onto the floor, he sputtered and coughed abit then raised up into a sitting position. His head first turned to the ice chest, then he looked around and saw Tanya sitting on my bed. "Good morning." He mumbled and asked her to fetch him a cold one.
"It ain't morning you sot!" Bear growled. "It ain't even eleven a clock yet and don't be ordering our guest around like some bar wench!"
"Oh I don't mind." Tanya assured Bear then gracefully slid off the bed in her lacy evening attire. "It's in the cooler." he muttered while I took a close look at him. "How in the fuck did you fall asleep on that shit?"
"What shit?" Whitey replied, but Bear regarded me seriously with his dilated eyes and I knew what he was getting at. A stranger sat among us and mentioning drugs seemed not a good ideal, however,
"That mescaline? I got a good buzz off of it, but it ain't like doing a hit of blotter." Whitey dryly replied as Tanya handed him an ale. She had went into the wrong ice chest. He looked at the bottle and laughed then slid off the bed himself. Since Tayna had opened it, Whitey passed it to me and got himself a can of Budweiser. Surprisingly polite, he thanked Tanya anyway and popped his beer open. Guzzling the can's entire contents down, he politely belched into a cupped hand, then took a good look at Tanya. "Ahhhhyeaaah!" he rumbled, "Whooo do weee have here?"
"I'm Tanya." she replied with a toothy smile.
"Well good morning, Tanya. My name is Chris, but everyone calls me Mr. Whitehouse."
"I told you it ain't morning yet!" Bear growled. Paying Bear no heed, Whitey's eyes locked onto Tanya's evening gown as if they were ripping it off her off her body. "Hey aren't you staying next door to us?"
"That's me."
"Then welcome aboard." He chuckled, still ogling our guest as she bent down to get him another beer. "You don't have to wait on that man." Bear told her, but she repeated: "Hey I really don't mind. Let's party!"
"I heard that!" Brandy added as she poured Tanya and herself some whisky. Then our guest inquired: "Y'all got anything to smoke?" Bear, Denny and I glanced at each other, but she went on to inform us: "Ray left his weed and booze in the room. He's not allowed to have it at home."
"Who the hell is Ray?" Whitey asked then proceeded to guzzle down another can of beer. "Her date." Brandy replied. He had to go home."
"Wanna smoke some hashish?" Denny offered.
"I've never smoked that before. I only smoke weed when out with Ray."
"Well don't you think it's about time?" Whitey slurred then added: "It'll be alright, you're in safe hands." He turned and flashed me a wolfish smile. "Right, Skid?"
"Oh that's right, Skid." I replied while attempting to ponder what sort of insanity would ensue. A comely young college who was peering into the amber depths of her plastic motel courtesy cup filled with whisky along with an extremely vivacious middle aged woman in lingerie who wasn't going to let a Friday night at this motel go to waste,
Bear, in an weirdly addled substance induced state, he had been known to throw a woman over his shoulder without a hint of intentions and lumber off into the darkness,
Denny, obviously still tripping his brains out, but mindful enough to attempt wooing any available females with his wit and debonair. Somewhat of a ladies' man, tonight his lines were often garbled gibberish.
Whitey on the other hand would sooner or later shed his thin veneer of gentlemanly politeness and just come out and say what was on his beer sodden mind, no matter how lewd. Surprisingly enough, his crude approach often garnered favorable results. Then there was me with a head full of mescaline attempting to take in this strange scene. There were no encounters with Mescalito, but I looked upon a water spirit and now for some odd reason felt like dancing to the Pink Floyd music playing on our boom box. Rising from the chair, I experienced a massive head rush, but afterwards felt as agile as a panther. Approaching the ladies I inquired: "Anyone care to dance?" to which both Brandy and Tanya extended their hands. "I suppose all three of us move about in this limited space, but,,"
"I'll dance with one of you." Bear swiftly offered which struck me odd as he was not the dancing type, unless of course those times around a campfire in a heathenish manner when completely snockered out of his mind. Brandy leaped up and rushed pass me to take Bear's paw-like hand leaving me with Tanya, which proved most pleasurable once we made body contact. Once Tanya's slowly exhaled breath warmed my neck and her rhythmic grinding set me a tingling, I was hooked, at least for tonight. Her heavily made up eyes were the hue of the morning sky reflecting upon a cascading stream. I stuck my face into Tanya's multi-colored hair then took in a sweetly seductive scent while sniffing her neck as we moved our feet back and forth over by the sink. Taking a glance at Bear with Brandy's arms around his bull neck as he held her aloft which was probably better than him stepping on the young lady's feet.
It was all so blissfully surreal and then came the sound of knocking upon my motel room door...
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
Denny ambled to the door, put his eye to the peep hole and shouted "Who is it?"
"R.W!" came a loud response. Denny turned, smiled at us and went on to emulate an old Cheech and Chong comedy skit. "R.W.'s not here!"
"Just open the door!" Bear growled still holding Brandy like a little child. Denny laughed, shrugged his shoulders and then opened the door. His brother and Mia stepped in. They seemed somewhat surprised upon noticing our guest and my currant dance partner who still held me in a close embrace. Gently peeling her off me, I said: "This is Tanya, our neighbor from next door." Obviously having a substance induced moment, both Mia and R.W. quietly gawked at our guest. "Hi y'all." she greeted.
"Hi." they both returned, both's pupils extremely dilated. Mia then looked up at the ceiling fan while R.W. ogled Tanya.
"So where have you two love birds been off to?" Brandy asked while slipping down out from Bear's arms. Mia stood there still gazing up at the ceiling fan as R.W. answered. "We went for a little walk and looked at the lights."
"A fine night for it." I stated.
"Where did you guys go? You've were gone for awhile."
"We walked up the hill a ways."
"What's up there?"
"A fairy land and dancing newts." Brandy gleefully replied.
"Forest devils." Bear added with a snarl. Whitey however guzzled down yet another beer, issued a cackle of laughter and said: "Y'all are seeing things. Now what was that I heard about smoking some hash?"
Denny and I busied ourselves in the preparation of a blended smoking mixture, while Brandy, Bear, Tanya and Whitey attempted fast dancing to some Black Oak Arkansas in the crowded room. "A truely magical night, eh Skid?" Denny said in a low tone as he shaved skin thin slices of hashish from his stash. Breaking up a rather sticky green and purplish bud, I replied: "Fit to be chronicled one day. This is probably the last time I'm going to fuck around with hallucinogenic drugs. This ain't the 1970s anymore. The counter culture has given way to the Culture Club and we are looked upon as long haired Cro Magnons or even Neanderthals."
"Yeah just look at my brother." Denny chuckled lowly, "But deep inside, he's still a Skid."
"Fuck em." I said, "Those nitwits in Williamsburg are too worried about looking good to get a good grove going."
"That may be, Skid, but tonight is reminiscent of one of our little get togethers from the last decade and Williamsburg is many miles away. As for tonight and maybe tomorrow, cut loose, man. Get wild and funky, but don't hurt yourself."
"Okay kids, gather around!" Denny announced while twirling the cigar size joint with his fingers like a baton. Mia was still gazing at the ceiling fan while the others took their places near the table. He handed the huge doobie to Tanya.
"It's so big!" she laughed and stuck it between her hot pink painted lips. At that Whitey issued a grunt and said: "Like em big, huh?" Then suddenly he started batting away at the air with his hand. "What the fuck are you doing?" Bear growled.
"A blaze orange mosquito as big as my hand!"
"Just a good buzz, eh Whitey?" I mocked. With all that beer in his system, the mescaline effected him differently. Clicking his Bick for the lady, she drew in a good amount of smoke, coughed a bit then smiled and passed it on.
After only four tokes, Tanya had quite enough, but aside from Mia who still gazed up at spinning fan blades, the rest of us continued smoking. His eyes dilated, glassy and bloodshot, R.W. raised one of Whitey's beers aloft and proclaimed: "Everyone needs to get away and let it all hang out every so often. Here's to all of you, cheers!" R.W. put the can to his lips and chugged.
"Ahhhhhhhblahhhhhhg!" He sputtered, coughed and spat out a cigarette butt along with a gob of tobacco right on the carpet. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Poodle?" Bear roared. Reaching down, R.W. picked up the butt and demanded: "Who outed a cigarette in my beer?"
"You did, you nitwit." Whitey returned, "I sat here and watched you do it."
"Why the hell didn't you say anything?"
"What do I looked like, your fucking baby sitter?" Whitey hissed. Bear laughed and stated: "It's happened to everyone at one time or another,R.W, but I expect you to clean that goober you spat on the floor." The big man stood up, stretched his massive arms and inquired if anyone needed a drink. "Let's get down, it Friday night, folks!"
While sitting in the lounge at Afton's mountain top Holiday Inn, I reflected upon this early summer excursion thus far and had to laugh. Finding humor seemed more preferable than dwelling upon the unsettling. Having been hopped up on mescaline from yesterday evening to early this morning, I had no encounter with Mescalito, or saw anyone turn into a crow, but did look uon an amphibian-like supernatural being and relished the drug enhanced scene as well as the company of somewhat good people, all whacked to the gills. I'd like to think it was Mr. Yap, a lower yet powerful spirit of the Colony House's sewage system who unbalanced Bear's grip on the toilet tank top. With that much cocaine in our midst, the scene may of went foul. I should of thanked that swirling face in the toilet instead of cursing it. Oh well there would be other stays at the Colony House to make amends.
"Nice place, I'll bet it'll be hopping later this evening." Whitey commented from across the table. Although never much of a bar patron, Whitey suggested we check out the lounge and surprisingly enough he was drinking mescal instead of his usual swill. "Everything worked out fine, Skid except of course, Mia and Brandy splitting. I caught that Mia chick checking me out more than once at the pool."
"A month with her and she would have you looking and yapping like R.W."
"Fuck that mess!" he returned and then asked: "So what the hell happened with you and Tanya last night?"
"Well her boyfriend came back with some sob story about his wife kicking him out of the house." Actually I thought it was for the best. Having asked Tanya to show me her room around 1:30 in the morning, once we entered, she was all over me, but still being under the influence two hits of good mescaline, the psychedelic pervert in me wanted to be titillatingly entertained. No sooner than I had Tanya back in her high heel boots, fishnet stockings and garters dancing to a Tom Jones song on an oldies radio station, there came a knock on the door. It was Ray and while they came to terms out on the walkway, I finished my drink then exited, wishing them much love and happiness while in passing. Swiftly rejoining my fellow revelers, I drank and gracefully came in for a landing from my earlier drug induced ascent. Sometime around 4:00AM I staggered to my bed and drifted off into a dreamless slumber until about 11:30AM. A loud knocking pulled us back into the waking world. It was Alison, the housekeeper who told us since we failed to secure the rooms for another night, they had been reserved to other guests. We swiftly packed up everything, left Alison a generous tip and vacated the premises. Mia, Brandy and R.W. departed back to Williamsburg, but we still had three more nights up in the mountains to spend. Although the odds were against us, we took a chance in procuring lodgings at the Holiday Inn Afton. Fortune was indeed with us as there were two double rooms available due to reservation cancellations. However, they were not adjoining. After showering and a nap, Bear and Denny went down into Waynesboro for more provisions while Whitey and I took a dip in the mountain top pool where he overheard two young ladies talk about dancing tonight in the hotel lounge. Later he cornered one of them in the pool and asked her for a dance later. Come to think about it, that's why Whitey wanted to check out the lounge at 5:00 opening. Like a proficient predator, he wanted an early unobscured view of his potential hunting ground. I advised him to be careful as well as cordial. "Disrespect some of these highland rednecks and they'll pull out a hog leg then shoot either your kneecaps or testicles off."
"If that's the case, I've a 45 under my truck seat, but don't worry I've the cunning of an old buck. I'll have no problem pulling that little blonde I met down at the pool."
"Oh the one who didn't want her big hairdo to get wet. Pleasingly plump and quite the bird of paradise in that skimpy one piece." I returned while recalling her curvaceous tanned body, high heel sandals, large permed out bleached blonde hair and tremendous amount of makeup. Her head never went below the surface as she bobbed up and down in the four foot deep section. Probably locals, her along with an equally gussied up friend were staying on the second floor above Bear's room and Whitey wanted to get the jump on this action before Denny could formulate a plan. "Her friend was kind of hot too." he stated, adding: "It'll make up on what you lost out on last night."
Taking a sip of my mescal, I informed him: "I was so screwed up last night it's doubtful much would of come from that visit. Hell I was happy just to see that old gal prance around like a young filly, but tonight I'll join you in the hunt." Something about Whitey's hopeful date's friend that had caught my fancy and I had at least attracted her bold eyed stare down at the pool. With Bear and Denny being in the mix, there would be some competition unless of course they went after other fair game which would no doubt be in the lounge on this fine Saturday night.
Finishing up a third round of mescal, Whitey suggested we go back to our room and "Smoke a bowl, Skid." Upon exiting the lounge we could not help but gaze long at the magnificent vista from atop of Afton Mountain...
"R.W!" came a loud response. Denny turned, smiled at us and went on to emulate an old Cheech and Chong comedy skit. "R.W.'s not here!"
"Just open the door!" Bear growled still holding Brandy like a little child. Denny laughed, shrugged his shoulders and then opened the door. His brother and Mia stepped in. They seemed somewhat surprised upon noticing our guest and my currant dance partner who still held me in a close embrace. Gently peeling her off me, I said: "This is Tanya, our neighbor from next door." Obviously having a substance induced moment, both Mia and R.W. quietly gawked at our guest. "Hi y'all." she greeted.
"Hi." they both returned, both's pupils extremely dilated. Mia then looked up at the ceiling fan while R.W. ogled Tanya.
"So where have you two love birds been off to?" Brandy asked while slipping down out from Bear's arms. Mia stood there still gazing up at the ceiling fan as R.W. answered. "We went for a little walk and looked at the lights."
"A fine night for it." I stated.
"Where did you guys go? You've were gone for awhile."
"We walked up the hill a ways."
"What's up there?"
"A fairy land and dancing newts." Brandy gleefully replied.
"Forest devils." Bear added with a snarl. Whitey however guzzled down yet another beer, issued a cackle of laughter and said: "Y'all are seeing things. Now what was that I heard about smoking some hash?"
Denny and I busied ourselves in the preparation of a blended smoking mixture, while Brandy, Bear, Tanya and Whitey attempted fast dancing to some Black Oak Arkansas in the crowded room. "A truely magical night, eh Skid?" Denny said in a low tone as he shaved skin thin slices of hashish from his stash. Breaking up a rather sticky green and purplish bud, I replied: "Fit to be chronicled one day. This is probably the last time I'm going to fuck around with hallucinogenic drugs. This ain't the 1970s anymore. The counter culture has given way to the Culture Club and we are looked upon as long haired Cro Magnons or even Neanderthals."
"Yeah just look at my brother." Denny chuckled lowly, "But deep inside, he's still a Skid."
"Fuck em." I said, "Those nitwits in Williamsburg are too worried about looking good to get a good grove going."
"That may be, Skid, but tonight is reminiscent of one of our little get togethers from the last decade and Williamsburg is many miles away. As for tonight and maybe tomorrow, cut loose, man. Get wild and funky, but don't hurt yourself."
"Okay kids, gather around!" Denny announced while twirling the cigar size joint with his fingers like a baton. Mia was still gazing at the ceiling fan while the others took their places near the table. He handed the huge doobie to Tanya.
"It's so big!" she laughed and stuck it between her hot pink painted lips. At that Whitey issued a grunt and said: "Like em big, huh?" Then suddenly he started batting away at the air with his hand. "What the fuck are you doing?" Bear growled.
"A blaze orange mosquito as big as my hand!"
"Just a good buzz, eh Whitey?" I mocked. With all that beer in his system, the mescaline effected him differently. Clicking his Bick for the lady, she drew in a good amount of smoke, coughed a bit then smiled and passed it on.
After only four tokes, Tanya had quite enough, but aside from Mia who still gazed up at spinning fan blades, the rest of us continued smoking. His eyes dilated, glassy and bloodshot, R.W. raised one of Whitey's beers aloft and proclaimed: "Everyone needs to get away and let it all hang out every so often. Here's to all of you, cheers!" R.W. put the can to his lips and chugged.
"Ahhhhhhhblahhhhhhg!" He sputtered, coughed and spat out a cigarette butt along with a gob of tobacco right on the carpet. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Poodle?" Bear roared. Reaching down, R.W. picked up the butt and demanded: "Who outed a cigarette in my beer?"
"You did, you nitwit." Whitey returned, "I sat here and watched you do it."
"Why the hell didn't you say anything?"
"What do I looked like, your fucking baby sitter?" Whitey hissed. Bear laughed and stated: "It's happened to everyone at one time or another,R.W, but I expect you to clean that goober you spat on the floor." The big man stood up, stretched his massive arms and inquired if anyone needed a drink. "Let's get down, it Friday night, folks!"
While sitting in the lounge at Afton's mountain top Holiday Inn, I reflected upon this early summer excursion thus far and had to laugh. Finding humor seemed more preferable than dwelling upon the unsettling. Having been hopped up on mescaline from yesterday evening to early this morning, I had no encounter with Mescalito, or saw anyone turn into a crow, but did look uon an amphibian-like supernatural being and relished the drug enhanced scene as well as the company of somewhat good people, all whacked to the gills. I'd like to think it was Mr. Yap, a lower yet powerful spirit of the Colony House's sewage system who unbalanced Bear's grip on the toilet tank top. With that much cocaine in our midst, the scene may of went foul. I should of thanked that swirling face in the toilet instead of cursing it. Oh well there would be other stays at the Colony House to make amends.
"Nice place, I'll bet it'll be hopping later this evening." Whitey commented from across the table. Although never much of a bar patron, Whitey suggested we check out the lounge and surprisingly enough he was drinking mescal instead of his usual swill. "Everything worked out fine, Skid except of course, Mia and Brandy splitting. I caught that Mia chick checking me out more than once at the pool."
"A month with her and she would have you looking and yapping like R.W."
"Fuck that mess!" he returned and then asked: "So what the hell happened with you and Tanya last night?"
"Well her boyfriend came back with some sob story about his wife kicking him out of the house." Actually I thought it was for the best. Having asked Tanya to show me her room around 1:30 in the morning, once we entered, she was all over me, but still being under the influence two hits of good mescaline, the psychedelic pervert in me wanted to be titillatingly entertained. No sooner than I had Tanya back in her high heel boots, fishnet stockings and garters dancing to a Tom Jones song on an oldies radio station, there came a knock on the door. It was Ray and while they came to terms out on the walkway, I finished my drink then exited, wishing them much love and happiness while in passing. Swiftly rejoining my fellow revelers, I drank and gracefully came in for a landing from my earlier drug induced ascent. Sometime around 4:00AM I staggered to my bed and drifted off into a dreamless slumber until about 11:30AM. A loud knocking pulled us back into the waking world. It was Alison, the housekeeper who told us since we failed to secure the rooms for another night, they had been reserved to other guests. We swiftly packed up everything, left Alison a generous tip and vacated the premises. Mia, Brandy and R.W. departed back to Williamsburg, but we still had three more nights up in the mountains to spend. Although the odds were against us, we took a chance in procuring lodgings at the Holiday Inn Afton. Fortune was indeed with us as there were two double rooms available due to reservation cancellations. However, they were not adjoining. After showering and a nap, Bear and Denny went down into Waynesboro for more provisions while Whitey and I took a dip in the mountain top pool where he overheard two young ladies talk about dancing tonight in the hotel lounge. Later he cornered one of them in the pool and asked her for a dance later. Come to think about it, that's why Whitey wanted to check out the lounge at 5:00 opening. Like a proficient predator, he wanted an early unobscured view of his potential hunting ground. I advised him to be careful as well as cordial. "Disrespect some of these highland rednecks and they'll pull out a hog leg then shoot either your kneecaps or testicles off."
"If that's the case, I've a 45 under my truck seat, but don't worry I've the cunning of an old buck. I'll have no problem pulling that little blonde I met down at the pool."
"Oh the one who didn't want her big hairdo to get wet. Pleasingly plump and quite the bird of paradise in that skimpy one piece." I returned while recalling her curvaceous tanned body, high heel sandals, large permed out bleached blonde hair and tremendous amount of makeup. Her head never went below the surface as she bobbed up and down in the four foot deep section. Probably locals, her along with an equally gussied up friend were staying on the second floor above Bear's room and Whitey wanted to get the jump on this action before Denny could formulate a plan. "Her friend was kind of hot too." he stated, adding: "It'll make up on what you lost out on last night."
Taking a sip of my mescal, I informed him: "I was so screwed up last night it's doubtful much would of come from that visit. Hell I was happy just to see that old gal prance around like a young filly, but tonight I'll join you in the hunt." Something about Whitey's hopeful date's friend that had caught my fancy and I had at least attracted her bold eyed stare down at the pool. With Bear and Denny being in the mix, there would be some competition unless of course they went after other fair game which would no doubt be in the lounge on this fine Saturday night.
Finishing up a third round of mescal, Whitey suggested we go back to our room and "Smoke a bowl, Skid." Upon exiting the lounge we could not help but gaze long at the magnificent vista from atop of Afton Mountain...
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
While I broke up a rather sticky greenish-purplish bud, Whitey poured us what remained of our mescal, worm and all.
"Not drinking your usual brand, Skid?" I inquired as he had not opened a Budweiser since our arrival atop Afton Mountain.
"Just taking a break from the norm." he replied which had me raising an eyebrow. The only time I witnessed Whitey drinking anything aside from Budweiser was when he had no more of that swill to drink, but with such a transition usually came those hard to handle situations. Still residing physically as well as mentally in Skiddom and now beginning to get plowed on hard liquor, he could cause quite a stir, but something about his demeanor thus far betokened a wild animal or else some primitive human being, preparing for the courtship ritual. Instead of his usual summer attire of a Tshirt and shorts, he wore black jeans, a quality long sleeve buttoned white shirt along with a black vest. A pair of slightly over sized sunglasses were perched atop of his head. He was shod in a pair of Wellington boots. Catching a good whiff of his cologne, I had to ask: "Shit man, what the hell do you have on?"
"What do you mean?"
"It smells like a foul blending of cough syrup and rubbing alcohol."
"Oh my cologne. I snagged it from my brother's pad. It's called Wild Climax."
"More like little Billy has the croup and oozing cold sores."
"And what brand of lacquer thinner are you wearing, Skid?"
"English Leather, I'll have you know."
"More like Polish back strap." he returned with a twisted grin I didn't usually wear cologne, but along with my black jeans, mother of pearl buttoned denim shirt of the same somber shade and wide brimmed grey beaver felt stetson, I slapped on some cheap scent.
"You look like a backwoods pimp." he chuckled while tapping the hawk feather attached to my copperhead snakeskin hatband.
"You look like a well dressed junkie." I returned while feigning brushing off dust from the shoulder of his vest. "Well Whitey, my man, if you and I can't make time with those two highland birds of paradise, we can only blame it on our cheap cologne." Passing him the pipe, I sparked it up with butane flame.
After Whitey's third toke he confessed: "Oh don't get me wrong Skid, I love my beer, but too much of it hampers my ability during times of intimacy."
"Oh you mean limp pud syndrome brought on by too much alcohol consumption? Yeah just keep drinking the hard shit and see what happens."
"Hard liqour doesn't effect me in that way." he informed me, "Especially mescal and tequila as long as I don't consume over a half gallon."
"You seem sure of success here at the Inn at Afton."
"My cousin Tiny and me stayed up here two years ago and we picked up a couple of local gals. They say the lounge up here is abounding in Blue Ridge Mountain mamas every Friday and Saturday night. It sure was when Tiny and I were here last." This was the second time I stayed here, but knew this Blue Ridge Shangri-La to be quite the place for reveling. Sure the room rates and lounge beverage prices were a bit higher than any other local establishment, but considerably lower than the tourist trap I left back in Williamsburg. On my part there was no missing the colonial capitol's oppressive summer heat, obnoxious Colonial Williamsburg tourists, snooty Kingsmill or other upscale community residents, college preppies as well as swarms of mosquitoes, biting gnats and deer flies to trouble us here atop Afton Mountain. Even more so than down at the Colony House, there was that certain sense of magic. I could even feel it inside this hotel room. If it could only impart recollections. My eyes moving from the green caret to to a low dresser and tall mirror hung right above it, there was a thought of that brunette I saw down at the pool.
His lower jaw jutting out and upper lip curled in a wolfish snarl, Whitey passed me the pipe. "I've got a good feeling about tonight." He then rubbed his hands together and with a nod added: "I'm going to tag,," The sudden loud telephone ringing interrupted his sharing of bawdy intentions. Picking it up he said: "Joe's Pool Hall. We rack em, you crack em."
I heard a few muffled sentences from the other end, but could not clearly hear what was said. "Excellent!" Whitey replied, adding "We'll be over in a jiffy." then he hung up the phone. "That was Bear. Him and Denny are back from Waynesboro and they have porterhouse steaks and more booze."
"You know it's only going to be a matter of time before our friends catch sight of those two motel nymphs from the pool and attempt to wrangle them into lair."
"Let them." Whitey returned then rubbed his hands together again. "It will play perfectly into my plans."
"Plans?"
There on the Inn's grounds was a scenic picnic area and this evening it would be our dining spot. We feasted upon steaks, dinner rolls, potato salad and cold baked beans all washed down with ale or mixed beverages. As this evening was going to be the weekend highlight of our little vacation, we needed a good meal before a night of heathenish revelry. "A night of celebration!" Bear proclaimed as he raised his big ceramic drinking mug aloft to give good cheer. Our mugs clanked together as we joined in. "That's not all boys. We've got two Waynesboro babes staying right above us." Bear added to which Denny scowled at him for revealing what both of them didn't know we already knew. Whitey and I feigned a lack of interest. "The lounge is going to be crawling with chicks, tonight, Bear." Whitey dryly stated then suggested we clean up our mess and get inside so as to smoke some more weed.
As I prepared another smoking mixture Bear and Denny readied themselves for socializing later at the lounge. The big man put on a new blue denim shirt and donned the brown extra wide brimmed plainsman style hat given to him as a gift by his sometimes lady friend from Colonial Williamsburg. It's leather hat band she had made and tooled what looked to be vines, leaves and little wild grapes. She must of had rather fond feelings for Bear to give such a gift. To complete his ensemble, he slipped on what looked to be a thin faded blue denim sport coat. "What the fuck are you suppose to be, a roadie for the Marshal Tucker Band?" Whitey chuckled. Bear growled and told him he had no sense of fashion. Denny, the ever available male he was also wore a light sport coat. Denny's however was a dark red that weirdly complemented his black Tshirt and jeans. The four of us looked to have stepped out of some honky tonk bar from 1973, but from what we knew, the house band played outlaw country and southern rock-n-roll music so there would be no worry about fitting in.
While twisting up our jumbo joint I caught Whitey's attention and gave him a quick hand signal. Index finger and thumb to the lips then held in a 'wee' or little bit sign. This was followed by pointing to myself and then to him. Neither Bear or Denny caught sight of this while they primped. Whitey's sinister grin confirmed he well received my non-verbal communication. "Got that fucker rolled up yet?" Bear inquired as he stroked his beard.
"Oh yeah, it's ready to spark up, Skid." I replied with a smile. "Here you do the honors." I said while handing him the cigar size doobie. Putting butane flame to it's twisted end Bear took a tremendous toke and handed back to me. I drew in a small measure of smoke into my lungs and handed it to Whitey. He took a small toke as well before passing it to Denny. Whitey and I had another small hit apiece leaving the other two most of the joint. What Bear and Denny didn't know was that I put a great deal of hashish shavings into that doobie in hopes of rendering both too goofy for their own good, especially when it came to them attempting the favors of those two vixens we had encountered earlier. While sipping on my mescal and grapefruit juice, I watched Bear and Denny smoke themselves into an extremely dope addled state. "Wow, that's some good smoke." Bear slurred as he poured himself a mug of Crown Royal. "You bet it is." Whitey chuckled. Denny looked a mess, his eyes were mere bloodshot slits as he stared off into space. Whitey tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the big half of joint that melting hash had extinguished. Striking a light he said: "Hey man finish this up so we can hit the lounge." Denny took another big hit and handed it to Bear who did the same. After that they could stand for no more at the present time. Bear finished his drink while a wobbling Denny slowly rose to his booted feet.
Before closing the door Whitey said to Bear: "Make sure you have your room key." He checked and did, so we made our way to the lounge.
Giving them plenty of space, we allowed Bear and Denny to enter the lounge first. Before entering ourselves, Whitey laughed and said: "Send in the clowns first." then he asked: "Just how much of Denny's hash did you put into that jumbo order?"
"A lot, any more and that joint would not of caught fire." Sure it was a bit under handed, but would impede Denny's bullshitting ability. Although as high as a soaring turkey buzzard, Bear was handling it pretty well. Of course in Bear's current substance addled state, he would be blathering away about his heroic misadventures, but all the same I wouldn't count him out of the running. Denny however looked to be swirling around in an intense pipe dream. By the lopsided smile upon his face, at least he was having a good time where ever that could be, Upon stepping in Whitey and I saw that the both of them were already attempting meaningful introductory greetings with our hotel pool nymphs. The mere sight of Bear and Denny gawking like a couple of tranquilized circus anthropoids told me this initial greeting had went far south of an intended mark. The young ladies' facial expressions said it all. Whitey cast me a swift glance and in a low tone said: "Well it's time, Skid. Are you ready to swoop in?" We ambled past a few other tables of patrons and approached the happy little group. Sliding in between Bear and Denny, Whitey halted just short of the curvy blonde, for several seconds he looked deep into her blue eyes then leaned in and began whispering in her ear. A smile slowly lighting up her painted but otherwise comely face as he whispered. Stepping back betwixt Bear and Denny, Whitey eyed the young lady with a snarling grin upon his face as she in turned whispered something to the brunette. Both grabbed their purses, stood up allowing us a good look at them in their little black dresses and began following Whitey as he walked towards the door. Turning his head, he looked at me and inquired: "Are you going to be joining us, Skid?"
Taking a quick glance at Bear and Denny who stood dumbfounded in front of an empty table, all I could offer was: "We'll be back, save us some seats."
The four of us emerged outside and saw that another heavy fog was drifting in. "So where are you guys staying, below us?" the brunette asked to which I introduced myself by first name only. Whitey followed suit. "I'm Cindy and this is Wendy." the blonde returned introduction. "Our friend's room, they're really drunk. I've got to stop there for a second or two and pick up a couple of things. The last one out of Bear and Denny's room, Whitey had left the door unlocked. It was quite apparent that Whitey had somewhat planned this out and now in a devil may care manner executed that plan. I would be further amazed by his deviant prowess as the night progressed. Slipping into Bear's room he swiftly emerged with two fifths of mescal and a quart of vodka. "Lock that door Skid for me Skid, my hands are full.
Opening our door for them the two sashayed past me. "Won't you have a seat?" Whitey offered as he swaggered into the room. Wile seating themselves in the two cushioned armchairs by the table, I caught myself ogling both of them from their high heel pumps to the fluffy tops of their heads. The blonde playfully rolled her eyes at me and thanked Whitey for - "Inviting us over for a few drinks and a toot before the band starts playing at nine."
"Toot?" I blurted out in puzzlement.
"That's right." Whitey replied, adding: "When Bear had his accident the night before last, a couple of good size rocks ejected out of the jar, missed the toilet and landed in the bath tub. I noticed them in there the next morning while taking a,, well I grabbed them. A man that clumsy has no business trying to snort coke off a toilet tank lid."
Cindy giggled and said: "I don't even want to know."
"That's good." I stated, "Because we carry on in some strange ways."
"Just how strange?" Cindy inquired with a seductive smile. Whitey then asked both of them: "So what are you ladies drinking? We of course have mescal and vodka along with some rum, beer and ale." Both opted for vodka lemonades and Whitey fixed them up right. "So what about your friends?" Wendy wanted to know.
"Oh they wanted to drink in the lounge. They'll be alright." Whitey informed her with a shrug of his shoulders. "So how would you like something good before the toot?" he asked while pulling almost a half of that jumbo sized hash laden joint out of his vest pocket. "Mind you it's some heavy duty mind blowing shit, so I recommend only a hit or two." Whitey advised.
"You guys cover all the bases." Cindy chuckled as Whitey handed her the doobie. To which I informed her: "It's always good to pack smart for a summer vacation."
"Vacation? So where are you guys from and what brings you up here?" Wendy asked while Whitey sparked up Cindy. "Near Virginia Beach." he stretched the truth by a good many miles and long bridge tunnel. Exhaling a stream of smoke without so much as a single cough, Cindy passed it to Wendy and said: "Now ain't that odd? We usually vacation down at Virginia Beach. In fact we're heading down there next month. It gets so boring here."
I could not help but notice that Cindy was paying me more attention than Whitey "Boring?"
"Yeah it sucks. All the boys are dullards and there's hardly ever any good drugs around here. Unless you want to party at those dives like the High Hatter or Wagon Wheel, The Inn is the place to go."
"I see." Whitey said while noticing that Wendy's eyes were upon him. He gave me a comical perplexed look and suggested we all exchange phone numbers before our date ended. At that Cindy laughed. "Date?"
"Why yes." I replied, adding: "It is our pleasure to be in your lovely company tonight."
"Your a cock sure individual." she taunted.
"Surely." I returned then inquired about my drink."
"What do I look like, a cocktail waitress?" Whitey barked back, but surprisingly enough Cindy gracefully stood up and asked: "So what will you have?"
At that point I had to pause and take stock of events as they unfurled before my eyes and what a scene it was. I still hadn't gotten over by whatever kind of mojo Whitey expelled while pulling these two lovely birds out of the bar and now here they were, extremely titillating just by their presence. They were obviously quite taken with us. Hell, one was even going to fix me a drink. "A triple mescal with a lemonade chaser, thank you."
After a couple of drinks and tokes, they told us a little more about themselves. Both of them worked as waitresses at a restaurant in Staunton and still resided with their parents not far from Afton. My guess they were both in their early twenties, yet had been around the block a few times. I was thinking they were looking for an escape from the norm. Apparently Cindy and Wendy were best friends and always reveled together as some of their stoned conversation revealed. Whitey sat on the bed with his head thrust forward like a patient bird of prey. I couldn't tell what exactly went on behind those ogling brown eyes, but knew he would make a move soon. Handing me my mescal and sitting it's lemonade chaser on the table, Cindy wanted to know if there would be anything else while leaning forward allowing a rather generous view down the front of her dress which prompted me into downing the mescal in one gulp. "Another one of these for starts." I requested. Then out of the blue, Whitey lunged forward and kissed Wendy. Pulling his tongue out of her mouth he said with feigned sincerity: "Sorry, I get that way whenever in the company of a beautiful woman."
"Not a problem." she returned after catching her breath then began to blush. With that he locked lips with her again while I ironically chuckled: "Why don't you two get a hotel room?" Before re-seating herself Cindy pulled off my hat, toyed with a lock of my hair and asked: "Don't we already have a room?"
Then the evil cocaine came out and I thought about doing a line or two.
Whitey was right, these were decent sized rocks, both glittering under the hotel lamp like they were made of millions of tiny white diamonds compounded together. "Hell Whitey, there must be nearly two grams here."
"Probably the two biggest rocks in that stash. My guess is they bounced out as that jar rolled off the lid into the shitter." He then pulled out a folding Buck knife and proceeded to chop up cocaine right on the hardwood table top. When he had finished there were eight decent lines he milled down from the smaller of the two rocks. Rolling up a stiff five dollar bill into a tube, he handed it to Wendy and whispered: "Ladies first." With a twinge of guilt in my pleasure I watched her lean down in that short dress and snort up a line. Lifting her head while sniffing, Wendy issued a "Woooow!"
"Go ahead and do another so we can't get on with it before someone sneezes on the table." With that she leaned down again. Cindy did one line than another then passed the tube to me.
'Demonic dust.' flashed in my mind, but I leaned down and did both lines anyway.
No doubt about it, the cocaine was high quality and probably only slightly stepped on if that. There was that certain taste finding it's way into both throat and mouth. Then my face began to get numb I shuffled over to the sink. Turning on the faucet and dipping two fingers into the running water, I then sniffed droplets off them so as to chase down any remaining powder deep into my system. Upon returning I saw Whitey had did his two lines and was putting the other rock into an empty cigarette pack.
"That is some superior blow." Cindy stated with teeth chattering slightly.
"Nothing but the best for such ravishing company." Lip curled in a particularly feral snarl-like smile Whitey ogled both young ladies and added: "We'll save this other rock until after we go dancing,"
"Aren't you forgetting something which concerns personal safety and our cocaine use tonight?" I questioned.
"Oh yeah, say nothing about the coke to that great big guy we left in the lounge."
"Why not?" Cindy wanted to know.
"Because he will kick Skid's and my asses down this mountain and up the next." Whitey replied with a pleasant smile.
With a half hour to go before the band started playing, we all sipped on another drink and enjoyed our intense cocaine highs. From the edge of the bed I stared at Cindy sitting with legs crossed and one black pump dangling on her bare foot. Inhibitions had fluttered away like a moth to a distant porch light...
"Not drinking your usual brand, Skid?" I inquired as he had not opened a Budweiser since our arrival atop Afton Mountain.
"Just taking a break from the norm." he replied which had me raising an eyebrow. The only time I witnessed Whitey drinking anything aside from Budweiser was when he had no more of that swill to drink, but with such a transition usually came those hard to handle situations. Still residing physically as well as mentally in Skiddom and now beginning to get plowed on hard liquor, he could cause quite a stir, but something about his demeanor thus far betokened a wild animal or else some primitive human being, preparing for the courtship ritual. Instead of his usual summer attire of a Tshirt and shorts, he wore black jeans, a quality long sleeve buttoned white shirt along with a black vest. A pair of slightly over sized sunglasses were perched atop of his head. He was shod in a pair of Wellington boots. Catching a good whiff of his cologne, I had to ask: "Shit man, what the hell do you have on?"
"What do you mean?"
"It smells like a foul blending of cough syrup and rubbing alcohol."
"Oh my cologne. I snagged it from my brother's pad. It's called Wild Climax."
"More like little Billy has the croup and oozing cold sores."
"And what brand of lacquer thinner are you wearing, Skid?"
"English Leather, I'll have you know."
"More like Polish back strap." he returned with a twisted grin I didn't usually wear cologne, but along with my black jeans, mother of pearl buttoned denim shirt of the same somber shade and wide brimmed grey beaver felt stetson, I slapped on some cheap scent.
"You look like a backwoods pimp." he chuckled while tapping the hawk feather attached to my copperhead snakeskin hatband.
"You look like a well dressed junkie." I returned while feigning brushing off dust from the shoulder of his vest. "Well Whitey, my man, if you and I can't make time with those two highland birds of paradise, we can only blame it on our cheap cologne." Passing him the pipe, I sparked it up with butane flame.
After Whitey's third toke he confessed: "Oh don't get me wrong Skid, I love my beer, but too much of it hampers my ability during times of intimacy."
"Oh you mean limp pud syndrome brought on by too much alcohol consumption? Yeah just keep drinking the hard shit and see what happens."
"Hard liqour doesn't effect me in that way." he informed me, "Especially mescal and tequila as long as I don't consume over a half gallon."
"You seem sure of success here at the Inn at Afton."
"My cousin Tiny and me stayed up here two years ago and we picked up a couple of local gals. They say the lounge up here is abounding in Blue Ridge Mountain mamas every Friday and Saturday night. It sure was when Tiny and I were here last." This was the second time I stayed here, but knew this Blue Ridge Shangri-La to be quite the place for reveling. Sure the room rates and lounge beverage prices were a bit higher than any other local establishment, but considerably lower than the tourist trap I left back in Williamsburg. On my part there was no missing the colonial capitol's oppressive summer heat, obnoxious Colonial Williamsburg tourists, snooty Kingsmill or other upscale community residents, college preppies as well as swarms of mosquitoes, biting gnats and deer flies to trouble us here atop Afton Mountain. Even more so than down at the Colony House, there was that certain sense of magic. I could even feel it inside this hotel room. If it could only impart recollections. My eyes moving from the green caret to to a low dresser and tall mirror hung right above it, there was a thought of that brunette I saw down at the pool.
His lower jaw jutting out and upper lip curled in a wolfish snarl, Whitey passed me the pipe. "I've got a good feeling about tonight." He then rubbed his hands together and with a nod added: "I'm going to tag,," The sudden loud telephone ringing interrupted his sharing of bawdy intentions. Picking it up he said: "Joe's Pool Hall. We rack em, you crack em."
I heard a few muffled sentences from the other end, but could not clearly hear what was said. "Excellent!" Whitey replied, adding "We'll be over in a jiffy." then he hung up the phone. "That was Bear. Him and Denny are back from Waynesboro and they have porterhouse steaks and more booze."
"You know it's only going to be a matter of time before our friends catch sight of those two motel nymphs from the pool and attempt to wrangle them into lair."
"Let them." Whitey returned then rubbed his hands together again. "It will play perfectly into my plans."
"Plans?"
There on the Inn's grounds was a scenic picnic area and this evening it would be our dining spot. We feasted upon steaks, dinner rolls, potato salad and cold baked beans all washed down with ale or mixed beverages. As this evening was going to be the weekend highlight of our little vacation, we needed a good meal before a night of heathenish revelry. "A night of celebration!" Bear proclaimed as he raised his big ceramic drinking mug aloft to give good cheer. Our mugs clanked together as we joined in. "That's not all boys. We've got two Waynesboro babes staying right above us." Bear added to which Denny scowled at him for revealing what both of them didn't know we already knew. Whitey and I feigned a lack of interest. "The lounge is going to be crawling with chicks, tonight, Bear." Whitey dryly stated then suggested we clean up our mess and get inside so as to smoke some more weed.
As I prepared another smoking mixture Bear and Denny readied themselves for socializing later at the lounge. The big man put on a new blue denim shirt and donned the brown extra wide brimmed plainsman style hat given to him as a gift by his sometimes lady friend from Colonial Williamsburg. It's leather hat band she had made and tooled what looked to be vines, leaves and little wild grapes. She must of had rather fond feelings for Bear to give such a gift. To complete his ensemble, he slipped on what looked to be a thin faded blue denim sport coat. "What the fuck are you suppose to be, a roadie for the Marshal Tucker Band?" Whitey chuckled. Bear growled and told him he had no sense of fashion. Denny, the ever available male he was also wore a light sport coat. Denny's however was a dark red that weirdly complemented his black Tshirt and jeans. The four of us looked to have stepped out of some honky tonk bar from 1973, but from what we knew, the house band played outlaw country and southern rock-n-roll music so there would be no worry about fitting in.
While twisting up our jumbo joint I caught Whitey's attention and gave him a quick hand signal. Index finger and thumb to the lips then held in a 'wee' or little bit sign. This was followed by pointing to myself and then to him. Neither Bear or Denny caught sight of this while they primped. Whitey's sinister grin confirmed he well received my non-verbal communication. "Got that fucker rolled up yet?" Bear inquired as he stroked his beard.
"Oh yeah, it's ready to spark up, Skid." I replied with a smile. "Here you do the honors." I said while handing him the cigar size doobie. Putting butane flame to it's twisted end Bear took a tremendous toke and handed back to me. I drew in a small measure of smoke into my lungs and handed it to Whitey. He took a small toke as well before passing it to Denny. Whitey and I had another small hit apiece leaving the other two most of the joint. What Bear and Denny didn't know was that I put a great deal of hashish shavings into that doobie in hopes of rendering both too goofy for their own good, especially when it came to them attempting the favors of those two vixens we had encountered earlier. While sipping on my mescal and grapefruit juice, I watched Bear and Denny smoke themselves into an extremely dope addled state. "Wow, that's some good smoke." Bear slurred as he poured himself a mug of Crown Royal. "You bet it is." Whitey chuckled. Denny looked a mess, his eyes were mere bloodshot slits as he stared off into space. Whitey tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the big half of joint that melting hash had extinguished. Striking a light he said: "Hey man finish this up so we can hit the lounge." Denny took another big hit and handed it to Bear who did the same. After that they could stand for no more at the present time. Bear finished his drink while a wobbling Denny slowly rose to his booted feet.
Before closing the door Whitey said to Bear: "Make sure you have your room key." He checked and did, so we made our way to the lounge.
Giving them plenty of space, we allowed Bear and Denny to enter the lounge first. Before entering ourselves, Whitey laughed and said: "Send in the clowns first." then he asked: "Just how much of Denny's hash did you put into that jumbo order?"
"A lot, any more and that joint would not of caught fire." Sure it was a bit under handed, but would impede Denny's bullshitting ability. Although as high as a soaring turkey buzzard, Bear was handling it pretty well. Of course in Bear's current substance addled state, he would be blathering away about his heroic misadventures, but all the same I wouldn't count him out of the running. Denny however looked to be swirling around in an intense pipe dream. By the lopsided smile upon his face, at least he was having a good time where ever that could be, Upon stepping in Whitey and I saw that the both of them were already attempting meaningful introductory greetings with our hotel pool nymphs. The mere sight of Bear and Denny gawking like a couple of tranquilized circus anthropoids told me this initial greeting had went far south of an intended mark. The young ladies' facial expressions said it all. Whitey cast me a swift glance and in a low tone said: "Well it's time, Skid. Are you ready to swoop in?" We ambled past a few other tables of patrons and approached the happy little group. Sliding in between Bear and Denny, Whitey halted just short of the curvy blonde, for several seconds he looked deep into her blue eyes then leaned in and began whispering in her ear. A smile slowly lighting up her painted but otherwise comely face as he whispered. Stepping back betwixt Bear and Denny, Whitey eyed the young lady with a snarling grin upon his face as she in turned whispered something to the brunette. Both grabbed their purses, stood up allowing us a good look at them in their little black dresses and began following Whitey as he walked towards the door. Turning his head, he looked at me and inquired: "Are you going to be joining us, Skid?"
Taking a quick glance at Bear and Denny who stood dumbfounded in front of an empty table, all I could offer was: "We'll be back, save us some seats."
The four of us emerged outside and saw that another heavy fog was drifting in. "So where are you guys staying, below us?" the brunette asked to which I introduced myself by first name only. Whitey followed suit. "I'm Cindy and this is Wendy." the blonde returned introduction. "Our friend's room, they're really drunk. I've got to stop there for a second or two and pick up a couple of things. The last one out of Bear and Denny's room, Whitey had left the door unlocked. It was quite apparent that Whitey had somewhat planned this out and now in a devil may care manner executed that plan. I would be further amazed by his deviant prowess as the night progressed. Slipping into Bear's room he swiftly emerged with two fifths of mescal and a quart of vodka. "Lock that door Skid for me Skid, my hands are full.
Opening our door for them the two sashayed past me. "Won't you have a seat?" Whitey offered as he swaggered into the room. Wile seating themselves in the two cushioned armchairs by the table, I caught myself ogling both of them from their high heel pumps to the fluffy tops of their heads. The blonde playfully rolled her eyes at me and thanked Whitey for - "Inviting us over for a few drinks and a toot before the band starts playing at nine."
"Toot?" I blurted out in puzzlement.
"That's right." Whitey replied, adding: "When Bear had his accident the night before last, a couple of good size rocks ejected out of the jar, missed the toilet and landed in the bath tub. I noticed them in there the next morning while taking a,, well I grabbed them. A man that clumsy has no business trying to snort coke off a toilet tank lid."
Cindy giggled and said: "I don't even want to know."
"That's good." I stated, "Because we carry on in some strange ways."
"Just how strange?" Cindy inquired with a seductive smile. Whitey then asked both of them: "So what are you ladies drinking? We of course have mescal and vodka along with some rum, beer and ale." Both opted for vodka lemonades and Whitey fixed them up right. "So what about your friends?" Wendy wanted to know.
"Oh they wanted to drink in the lounge. They'll be alright." Whitey informed her with a shrug of his shoulders. "So how would you like something good before the toot?" he asked while pulling almost a half of that jumbo sized hash laden joint out of his vest pocket. "Mind you it's some heavy duty mind blowing shit, so I recommend only a hit or two." Whitey advised.
"You guys cover all the bases." Cindy chuckled as Whitey handed her the doobie. To which I informed her: "It's always good to pack smart for a summer vacation."
"Vacation? So where are you guys from and what brings you up here?" Wendy asked while Whitey sparked up Cindy. "Near Virginia Beach." he stretched the truth by a good many miles and long bridge tunnel. Exhaling a stream of smoke without so much as a single cough, Cindy passed it to Wendy and said: "Now ain't that odd? We usually vacation down at Virginia Beach. In fact we're heading down there next month. It gets so boring here."
I could not help but notice that Cindy was paying me more attention than Whitey "Boring?"
"Yeah it sucks. All the boys are dullards and there's hardly ever any good drugs around here. Unless you want to party at those dives like the High Hatter or Wagon Wheel, The Inn is the place to go."
"I see." Whitey said while noticing that Wendy's eyes were upon him. He gave me a comical perplexed look and suggested we all exchange phone numbers before our date ended. At that Cindy laughed. "Date?"
"Why yes." I replied, adding: "It is our pleasure to be in your lovely company tonight."
"Your a cock sure individual." she taunted.
"Surely." I returned then inquired about my drink."
"What do I look like, a cocktail waitress?" Whitey barked back, but surprisingly enough Cindy gracefully stood up and asked: "So what will you have?"
At that point I had to pause and take stock of events as they unfurled before my eyes and what a scene it was. I still hadn't gotten over by whatever kind of mojo Whitey expelled while pulling these two lovely birds out of the bar and now here they were, extremely titillating just by their presence. They were obviously quite taken with us. Hell, one was even going to fix me a drink. "A triple mescal with a lemonade chaser, thank you."
After a couple of drinks and tokes, they told us a little more about themselves. Both of them worked as waitresses at a restaurant in Staunton and still resided with their parents not far from Afton. My guess they were both in their early twenties, yet had been around the block a few times. I was thinking they were looking for an escape from the norm. Apparently Cindy and Wendy were best friends and always reveled together as some of their stoned conversation revealed. Whitey sat on the bed with his head thrust forward like a patient bird of prey. I couldn't tell what exactly went on behind those ogling brown eyes, but knew he would make a move soon. Handing me my mescal and sitting it's lemonade chaser on the table, Cindy wanted to know if there would be anything else while leaning forward allowing a rather generous view down the front of her dress which prompted me into downing the mescal in one gulp. "Another one of these for starts." I requested. Then out of the blue, Whitey lunged forward and kissed Wendy. Pulling his tongue out of her mouth he said with feigned sincerity: "Sorry, I get that way whenever in the company of a beautiful woman."
"Not a problem." she returned after catching her breath then began to blush. With that he locked lips with her again while I ironically chuckled: "Why don't you two get a hotel room?" Before re-seating herself Cindy pulled off my hat, toyed with a lock of my hair and asked: "Don't we already have a room?"
Then the evil cocaine came out and I thought about doing a line or two.
Whitey was right, these were decent sized rocks, both glittering under the hotel lamp like they were made of millions of tiny white diamonds compounded together. "Hell Whitey, there must be nearly two grams here."
"Probably the two biggest rocks in that stash. My guess is they bounced out as that jar rolled off the lid into the shitter." He then pulled out a folding Buck knife and proceeded to chop up cocaine right on the hardwood table top. When he had finished there were eight decent lines he milled down from the smaller of the two rocks. Rolling up a stiff five dollar bill into a tube, he handed it to Wendy and whispered: "Ladies first." With a twinge of guilt in my pleasure I watched her lean down in that short dress and snort up a line. Lifting her head while sniffing, Wendy issued a "Woooow!"
"Go ahead and do another so we can't get on with it before someone sneezes on the table." With that she leaned down again. Cindy did one line than another then passed the tube to me.
'Demonic dust.' flashed in my mind, but I leaned down and did both lines anyway.
No doubt about it, the cocaine was high quality and probably only slightly stepped on if that. There was that certain taste finding it's way into both throat and mouth. Then my face began to get numb I shuffled over to the sink. Turning on the faucet and dipping two fingers into the running water, I then sniffed droplets off them so as to chase down any remaining powder deep into my system. Upon returning I saw Whitey had did his two lines and was putting the other rock into an empty cigarette pack.
"That is some superior blow." Cindy stated with teeth chattering slightly.
"Nothing but the best for such ravishing company." Lip curled in a particularly feral snarl-like smile Whitey ogled both young ladies and added: "We'll save this other rock until after we go dancing,"
"Aren't you forgetting something which concerns personal safety and our cocaine use tonight?" I questioned.
"Oh yeah, say nothing about the coke to that great big guy we left in the lounge."
"Why not?" Cindy wanted to know.
"Because he will kick Skid's and my asses down this mountain and up the next." Whitey replied with a pleasant smile.
With a half hour to go before the band started playing, we all sipped on another drink and enjoyed our intense cocaine highs. From the edge of the bed I stared at Cindy sitting with legs crossed and one black pump dangling on her bare foot. Inhibitions had fluttered away like a moth to a distant porch light...
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Doreen Peri
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Re: Catching up with the Altitude
You're one fine writer and I LOVE this and I want to read it in a book! Keep the chapters coming and then, please, publish it so I can own it!
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
Well thanks Doreen.
The accounts of a misspent youth.
Outside the fog was so thick we could only see several feet in any direction. I barely felt the cool moisture upon my face, but noticed tiny droplets cluster onto our date's big fluffed out hairdos. This had them hastily pulling us along by the hand so as not to have their hair going damp and flat. Upon entering they both bolted to the ladies room leaving Whitey and I standing there experiencing a scene which we had not anticipated. The lounge looked to be only a quarter or less occupied. The bandstand was darkened and vacant. In the dim lounge light my eyes searched for Bear and Denny, but no one sat at the table we left them at. I finally located my huge friend. He was gazing at me from a table in the back. Even in the dark I could see that broad toothy smile flashing along with a weird gleam in his eyes. There was someone else sitting with him, but it wasn't Denny. From across the lounge I saw that his table mate was female, but with her back to me. From what I could tell she wore jeans, white sneakers, a dark long sleeve top of some sort and a straw fedora-like hat.
"Hey Skid, there's Bear." Whitey informed me as we saw that he was now motioning us over. However whoever sat with him did not turn to look.
As we ambled over to his table, I had a strange feeling that something weird would soon ensue. It did.
As we neared Bear's table, she turned and looked dead at me. "Good to see you're patronizing a fine company establishment."
"Gail?" I caught my breath. "What in the world are you doing up here?"
Doffing the straw hat, I could see her short styled somewhat spiky dark brown hair. In the back she sported a long braided rat tail. "Surprised?" she laughed, the dim lounge light playing upon her pale face, dark eye makeup and crimson lipstick.
"Who's back in Williamsburg, minding the store?" I asked. She informed me that the other restaurant manager Keith was taking care business. "Last night as you know we had to host a banquet for the Williamsburg Chamber of Commerce. Well one of my cooks called out and one quit on me while another was absent on leave doing god knows what on Afton Mountain and surrounding areas."
"God knows what." I chuckled.
"Anyway, I not only managed the banquet, but prepared all the food as well. Keith and the district hotel manager was so pleased at my performance, I got an all expense paid three day stay at the Holiday Inn of my choice. So here I am. When I got here this afternoon I called the Colony House Motel, but the desk clerk said you had checked out. What a pleasant surprise seeing you here." As she paused to sip her strawberry daiquiri, I turned my head and saw our dates strutting out of the ladies room with their hair somewhat in order.
"So where is everyone?" Whitey inquired, "Where's the band?"
Bear in so many words explained to us that there had been two bad wrecks on Interstate 64 over Afton and since the band had cancelled, most of the usual customers chose not to endure traffic hold ups or brave this heavy fog. "It is what it is and there you have it." Bear added as Cindy and Wendy arrived at his table.
"Where the hell is Denny?" Whitey asked while motioning for a waitress.
"Oh Denny had a bit too much of all that black hash the Skid here over laced in that jumbo joint. He was nodding off here in the lounge so I got him back to our room." Bear than shot me a savage slit eyed glare and said: "You dog." then he roared with laughter.
"It was all Whitey's devious plan." I chuckled, "But hey, Whitey has a surprise for you. Don't you Whitey?"
"What surprise?" Bear wanted to know and with that Whitey whispered something through the shaggy hair covering his ear. The big man grinned. "Hmmmmmmmm."
"Where is everyone? Cindy inquired, "Where's the band?' Again Bear gave account of the news he had heard. Gail however gave both young ladies the once over and asked: "Who do we have here?"
"This is Cindy and Wendy." I took the liberty to introduce them, adding: "They're also in the restaurant business. Ladies, Whitey, this is Gail, the boss at my second job."
The women exchanged shallow greetings and Bear gave me a devilish grin while our waitress arrived to take orders. "Hi. My name is Janice. What can I get you?"
"Get whatever you all want. This rounds on me." Gail added as Whitey and I pulled a table along with some chairs nearer to Bear's. Our bartender/lounge manager turned on the surround sound music and took requests so as to have a bit of entertainment thus complementing this oddly entertaining scene. Bear sent the waitress away with a twenty dollar bill and a request to hear the Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers album, but settled on Let it Bleed. Music playing, drinks arriving, Whitey grabbed Wendy's hand and pulled her on the dance floor. While looking at me, Gail grabbed one of Bear's huge paws and led him off as well. This left Cindy and I drinking at the table. "So you know that woman?"
"She's my boss."
"Is she a punk rocker or something?"
"She's from Williamsburg." I replied while watching her eyes upon me as she danced with Bear. Whitey however was attempting to dry hump Wendy on the dance floor.
"So does she like you or something?" Cindy asked.
"I'm not quite sure." I replied then leaned in and kissed my date. Although on this night it seemed somewhat exciting, I usually didn't care to feel pulled in two different directions, especially within the confines of a bar. Gail's arrival was a fluke and already having a date, I stood, offered Cindy my hand so as to dance, but not without having another swift glance at Gail. There was something about her that sparked my substance addled interest. No more did she look at me, but instead had her eyes closed and face pressed into Bear's broad chest.
'Well that settles that.' I thought while embracing Cindy as we moved back and forth in our own little space. The woman was an ear blower and this would set me off balance, but in a good way. Casting a glance over at Wendy and Whitey who were grinding against each other I told them: "Get a room."
"We already have one." Whitey chuckled and continued on with his lewd courtship dance. Now Cindy was doing a little grinding herself which had me thinking about the two of us ducking out to either her room or mine, but in being social, I finished the dance. All six of us strolled back to our seating at the same time and before I could sit down, Gail whispered in my ear. "You're fired."
'Treacherous and afflicted wench.' I thought, but merely looked at her, shrugged my shoulders and said: "Alright, and?"
At that the smirk left her face. She then turned to Bear and inquired: "Do you have a date tonight, my big handsome friend?" Bear having enough savvy to notice what just went down winked at me and replied: "That is a possibility, if no one else will have you." Perhaps in whatever state of mind Gail possessed upon seeing me here in the company of good time gal, she either did or didn't catch the crude truth in Bear's words of acceptance. Even when it came to weird scenes such as this, he was a Skid. He was a brother. No doubt somewhat tanked up on booze, Gail in her present state of mind would invoke whatever emotion she could and latch onto Bear. I seen her act this way in another little passion play at a party some months back when she was smitten with the hotel maintenance man. Rejected, Gail made a play for his brother. Rather comely as well as shapely, it wasn't like Gail couldn't attract men, it was the fact she would get exceptionally weird when drinking and doing drugs. A good and fair minded employee supervisor during working hours, Gail was a manipulating control freak while under the influence of recreational substances. If things didn't go her way at such times, she would find someone to grudge fuck in order to let the steam out. Aside from work and a few after work parties, I stayed clear of her. She had invited me over to her apartment for an after work drink a few times, but they were on week nights, but I had a day job. Tonight however she was in the capable paws of Bear and he was hip to such jive. The big man looked at me, shook his shaggy head and laughed. "How about we take this party to a more private setting?"
First we accompanied Bear into his room where he cut off a chunk of hash from Denny's stash and grabbed a big bottle of vodka. Taking a good look at Denny in his hashish induced dead sleep, Gail said: "He's a doll baby."
"He's a fucking Dibble." Whitey hissed, "Take him home and give him a food bowl."
"Leave him be." Bear chuckled, "He's the victim of two deviant dogs and should of been allowed to enjoy this foggy night."
"It was all Whitey's plan." I reminded him.
"My plan?" Whitey laughed and added while pointing at me: "He's an Injun and they're always up to something."
"Is that true?" Cindy inquired.
"Yes. I am an Indian."
"No. Are you always up to something."
"Just on Saturday nights, or out in the woods when you think it's too quiet." I then grabbed a couple of fresh towels to shield Cindy and Wendy's hair from the fog. "Alright let's take it to my pad and let this poor lad get his sleep. Whitey grab the boom box and some tapes."
"And what are you carrying, Skid?" Whitey asked.
Putting my arms around Cindy and Wendy, I replied: "I can't even carry a tune."
No sooner than we entered my room, Bear was insisting that Whitey pull out the rock and chop out some lines which proved my estimation wrong as there were over two grams of coke in the larger rock alone.
"So you found this in the tub back at the Colony House?"
"I should of said something about it Bear, but figured on surprising you with it on a more befitting time such as we have here." Of course no one mentioned the lines we did earlier and with me opting out of partaking of the devil's dust, everyone else had more to do. Bear went first and then Gail before the rolled up five dollar bill got passed to Cindy, Watching them go at it, I was quite happy getting a groove on off alcohol and cannabis. With several lines left on the table they took a break. Cindy and Wendy had kicked off their shoes. At this point they were not overly concerned about their hair. Gail was all over Bear like a love struck spider monkey and her previous intentions forgotten. Giddy from the cocaine she gave me my job back to which I returned with: "Alright, and?" but she heard me not while nuzzling up to Bear. Perhaps this was a love connection, but then again the big man would only put up with so much of anyone's bat shit craziness. For now he was quite receptive to all of her attention.
After a drink and cigarette they were soon at it again, each snorting up their last line of the night. I attempted to get them engaged in some friendly banter, but Whitey whispered something in Wendy's ear and the both of them bid us good night. My guess was they were going to Cindy and Mindy's room. Right after they departed out into the foggy gloom, Bear rose to his feet, pocketed a half joint from the ashtray and grabbed the bottle of Crown Royal in one of his paws. With the other he snatched Gail up. There he stood like some ancient barbarian chieftain that had just sacked a Roman frontier town. What a picture they were. Almost like a weird blending of living Andy Warhol and Frank Frazetta art She would cling on Bear's ankle if he had to combat any ruffians on the way to her room. Rather than bid us a good night, he issued a grunt. I placed Bear's hat upon his shaggy head while Cindy handed Gail her bag and the big man carried her out into the fog.
"Well honey, that leaves you and me." Cindy said as she sat down beside me on the bed. At that I gently pulled in laying her down for a bit of preliminary spooning and smooching before more passionate intimacy, but she slipped out of my arms and stood before me. "I usually take a donation first before something like this, but You've been fun to be around and I've had a nice time tonight, so there'll be no need for that for us to spend a night together."
"So you're a hooker?" I chuckled, not being all that much surprised.
"I'm a waitress too, but that doesn't take care of all my needs."
"And Wendy?"
"The same, but she's probably going to charge your friend a hundred bucks at the least." Cindy returned while slipping out of her dress. As she proceeded to make me a drink, I asked: "Can you put those shoes back on while doing that?" She rolled her eyes at me, laughed and replied: "No. I'm in for the night."
As she leaned down with my drink within the glow of a bedside lamp, the shadow of her moisture ruined hairdo reminded me of the aquatic plants resting on that amphibian critter's head back at Newts Pond...
The accounts of a misspent youth.
Outside the fog was so thick we could only see several feet in any direction. I barely felt the cool moisture upon my face, but noticed tiny droplets cluster onto our date's big fluffed out hairdos. This had them hastily pulling us along by the hand so as not to have their hair going damp and flat. Upon entering they both bolted to the ladies room leaving Whitey and I standing there experiencing a scene which we had not anticipated. The lounge looked to be only a quarter or less occupied. The bandstand was darkened and vacant. In the dim lounge light my eyes searched for Bear and Denny, but no one sat at the table we left them at. I finally located my huge friend. He was gazing at me from a table in the back. Even in the dark I could see that broad toothy smile flashing along with a weird gleam in his eyes. There was someone else sitting with him, but it wasn't Denny. From across the lounge I saw that his table mate was female, but with her back to me. From what I could tell she wore jeans, white sneakers, a dark long sleeve top of some sort and a straw fedora-like hat.
"Hey Skid, there's Bear." Whitey informed me as we saw that he was now motioning us over. However whoever sat with him did not turn to look.
As we ambled over to his table, I had a strange feeling that something weird would soon ensue. It did.
As we neared Bear's table, she turned and looked dead at me. "Good to see you're patronizing a fine company establishment."
"Gail?" I caught my breath. "What in the world are you doing up here?"
Doffing the straw hat, I could see her short styled somewhat spiky dark brown hair. In the back she sported a long braided rat tail. "Surprised?" she laughed, the dim lounge light playing upon her pale face, dark eye makeup and crimson lipstick.
"Who's back in Williamsburg, minding the store?" I asked. She informed me that the other restaurant manager Keith was taking care business. "Last night as you know we had to host a banquet for the Williamsburg Chamber of Commerce. Well one of my cooks called out and one quit on me while another was absent on leave doing god knows what on Afton Mountain and surrounding areas."
"God knows what." I chuckled.
"Anyway, I not only managed the banquet, but prepared all the food as well. Keith and the district hotel manager was so pleased at my performance, I got an all expense paid three day stay at the Holiday Inn of my choice. So here I am. When I got here this afternoon I called the Colony House Motel, but the desk clerk said you had checked out. What a pleasant surprise seeing you here." As she paused to sip her strawberry daiquiri, I turned my head and saw our dates strutting out of the ladies room with their hair somewhat in order.
"So where is everyone?" Whitey inquired, "Where's the band?"
Bear in so many words explained to us that there had been two bad wrecks on Interstate 64 over Afton and since the band had cancelled, most of the usual customers chose not to endure traffic hold ups or brave this heavy fog. "It is what it is and there you have it." Bear added as Cindy and Wendy arrived at his table.
"Where the hell is Denny?" Whitey asked while motioning for a waitress.
"Oh Denny had a bit too much of all that black hash the Skid here over laced in that jumbo joint. He was nodding off here in the lounge so I got him back to our room." Bear than shot me a savage slit eyed glare and said: "You dog." then he roared with laughter.
"It was all Whitey's devious plan." I chuckled, "But hey, Whitey has a surprise for you. Don't you Whitey?"
"What surprise?" Bear wanted to know and with that Whitey whispered something through the shaggy hair covering his ear. The big man grinned. "Hmmmmmmmm."
"Where is everyone? Cindy inquired, "Where's the band?' Again Bear gave account of the news he had heard. Gail however gave both young ladies the once over and asked: "Who do we have here?"
"This is Cindy and Wendy." I took the liberty to introduce them, adding: "They're also in the restaurant business. Ladies, Whitey, this is Gail, the boss at my second job."
The women exchanged shallow greetings and Bear gave me a devilish grin while our waitress arrived to take orders. "Hi. My name is Janice. What can I get you?"
"Get whatever you all want. This rounds on me." Gail added as Whitey and I pulled a table along with some chairs nearer to Bear's. Our bartender/lounge manager turned on the surround sound music and took requests so as to have a bit of entertainment thus complementing this oddly entertaining scene. Bear sent the waitress away with a twenty dollar bill and a request to hear the Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers album, but settled on Let it Bleed. Music playing, drinks arriving, Whitey grabbed Wendy's hand and pulled her on the dance floor. While looking at me, Gail grabbed one of Bear's huge paws and led him off as well. This left Cindy and I drinking at the table. "So you know that woman?"
"She's my boss."
"Is she a punk rocker or something?"
"She's from Williamsburg." I replied while watching her eyes upon me as she danced with Bear. Whitey however was attempting to dry hump Wendy on the dance floor.
"So does she like you or something?" Cindy asked.
"I'm not quite sure." I replied then leaned in and kissed my date. Although on this night it seemed somewhat exciting, I usually didn't care to feel pulled in two different directions, especially within the confines of a bar. Gail's arrival was a fluke and already having a date, I stood, offered Cindy my hand so as to dance, but not without having another swift glance at Gail. There was something about her that sparked my substance addled interest. No more did she look at me, but instead had her eyes closed and face pressed into Bear's broad chest.
'Well that settles that.' I thought while embracing Cindy as we moved back and forth in our own little space. The woman was an ear blower and this would set me off balance, but in a good way. Casting a glance over at Wendy and Whitey who were grinding against each other I told them: "Get a room."
"We already have one." Whitey chuckled and continued on with his lewd courtship dance. Now Cindy was doing a little grinding herself which had me thinking about the two of us ducking out to either her room or mine, but in being social, I finished the dance. All six of us strolled back to our seating at the same time and before I could sit down, Gail whispered in my ear. "You're fired."
'Treacherous and afflicted wench.' I thought, but merely looked at her, shrugged my shoulders and said: "Alright, and?"
At that the smirk left her face. She then turned to Bear and inquired: "Do you have a date tonight, my big handsome friend?" Bear having enough savvy to notice what just went down winked at me and replied: "That is a possibility, if no one else will have you." Perhaps in whatever state of mind Gail possessed upon seeing me here in the company of good time gal, she either did or didn't catch the crude truth in Bear's words of acceptance. Even when it came to weird scenes such as this, he was a Skid. He was a brother. No doubt somewhat tanked up on booze, Gail in her present state of mind would invoke whatever emotion she could and latch onto Bear. I seen her act this way in another little passion play at a party some months back when she was smitten with the hotel maintenance man. Rejected, Gail made a play for his brother. Rather comely as well as shapely, it wasn't like Gail couldn't attract men, it was the fact she would get exceptionally weird when drinking and doing drugs. A good and fair minded employee supervisor during working hours, Gail was a manipulating control freak while under the influence of recreational substances. If things didn't go her way at such times, she would find someone to grudge fuck in order to let the steam out. Aside from work and a few after work parties, I stayed clear of her. She had invited me over to her apartment for an after work drink a few times, but they were on week nights, but I had a day job. Tonight however she was in the capable paws of Bear and he was hip to such jive. The big man looked at me, shook his shaggy head and laughed. "How about we take this party to a more private setting?"
First we accompanied Bear into his room where he cut off a chunk of hash from Denny's stash and grabbed a big bottle of vodka. Taking a good look at Denny in his hashish induced dead sleep, Gail said: "He's a doll baby."
"He's a fucking Dibble." Whitey hissed, "Take him home and give him a food bowl."
"Leave him be." Bear chuckled, "He's the victim of two deviant dogs and should of been allowed to enjoy this foggy night."
"It was all Whitey's plan." I reminded him.
"My plan?" Whitey laughed and added while pointing at me: "He's an Injun and they're always up to something."
"Is that true?" Cindy inquired.
"Yes. I am an Indian."
"No. Are you always up to something."
"Just on Saturday nights, or out in the woods when you think it's too quiet." I then grabbed a couple of fresh towels to shield Cindy and Wendy's hair from the fog. "Alright let's take it to my pad and let this poor lad get his sleep. Whitey grab the boom box and some tapes."
"And what are you carrying, Skid?" Whitey asked.
Putting my arms around Cindy and Wendy, I replied: "I can't even carry a tune."
No sooner than we entered my room, Bear was insisting that Whitey pull out the rock and chop out some lines which proved my estimation wrong as there were over two grams of coke in the larger rock alone.
"So you found this in the tub back at the Colony House?"
"I should of said something about it Bear, but figured on surprising you with it on a more befitting time such as we have here." Of course no one mentioned the lines we did earlier and with me opting out of partaking of the devil's dust, everyone else had more to do. Bear went first and then Gail before the rolled up five dollar bill got passed to Cindy, Watching them go at it, I was quite happy getting a groove on off alcohol and cannabis. With several lines left on the table they took a break. Cindy and Wendy had kicked off their shoes. At this point they were not overly concerned about their hair. Gail was all over Bear like a love struck spider monkey and her previous intentions forgotten. Giddy from the cocaine she gave me my job back to which I returned with: "Alright, and?" but she heard me not while nuzzling up to Bear. Perhaps this was a love connection, but then again the big man would only put up with so much of anyone's bat shit craziness. For now he was quite receptive to all of her attention.
After a drink and cigarette they were soon at it again, each snorting up their last line of the night. I attempted to get them engaged in some friendly banter, but Whitey whispered something in Wendy's ear and the both of them bid us good night. My guess was they were going to Cindy and Mindy's room. Right after they departed out into the foggy gloom, Bear rose to his feet, pocketed a half joint from the ashtray and grabbed the bottle of Crown Royal in one of his paws. With the other he snatched Gail up. There he stood like some ancient barbarian chieftain that had just sacked a Roman frontier town. What a picture they were. Almost like a weird blending of living Andy Warhol and Frank Frazetta art She would cling on Bear's ankle if he had to combat any ruffians on the way to her room. Rather than bid us a good night, he issued a grunt. I placed Bear's hat upon his shaggy head while Cindy handed Gail her bag and the big man carried her out into the fog.
"Well honey, that leaves you and me." Cindy said as she sat down beside me on the bed. At that I gently pulled in laying her down for a bit of preliminary spooning and smooching before more passionate intimacy, but she slipped out of my arms and stood before me. "I usually take a donation first before something like this, but You've been fun to be around and I've had a nice time tonight, so there'll be no need for that for us to spend a night together."
"So you're a hooker?" I chuckled, not being all that much surprised.
"I'm a waitress too, but that doesn't take care of all my needs."
"And Wendy?"
"The same, but she's probably going to charge your friend a hundred bucks at the least." Cindy returned while slipping out of her dress. As she proceeded to make me a drink, I asked: "Can you put those shoes back on while doing that?" She rolled her eyes at me, laughed and replied: "No. I'm in for the night."
As she leaned down with my drink within the glow of a bedside lamp, the shadow of her moisture ruined hairdo reminded me of the aquatic plants resting on that amphibian critter's head back at Newts Pond...
Re: Catching up with the Altitude
While sitting in the hotel restaurant enjoying a hardy breakfast of tow over easy eggs, sausage, hash browns, grits and biscuits I mused about my free roll in the hay with a motor lodge lounge prostitute. Cindy was quite a dish and floated my boat to some degree so to speak. Upon awakening, she was already getting dressed to leave. Having turned down my invitation to breakfast, she leaned down, gave me a peck on the cheek and departed out of my life into the foggy dawn. I was hoping for a bit of morning affection, but that would of probably cost me now that all the coke, weed, hash and booze had worn off. I also wondered how Bear and Whitey fared as there were no signs of them yet.
Then Bear came lumbering in the restaurant, a grimace upon his broad face. While seating himself at the table I bade him: "Good morning." In returned he issued a low rumbling growl. "So where's your date, Bear?" I chuckled, but he glared at me with his stormy grey eyes and growled: "Fuck that crazy bitch. Not all that long ago I had to tell her to fuck off." He then motioned for a waitress.
"But you two seemed to be getting on so good last night."
"Yeah, but she went weird on me this morning."
"Weird?"
"Yeah weird. She was going on about how we should start dating after having such a pleasurable night together. Something about how we were made for each other. Well I told her to slow down, that we had only just met and somehow she twisted my words into me more or less me calling her a whore."
"Ahhhh Gail." I laughed.
"She also told me to tell you that you're fired."
"Good. I wasn't planning to go back after the first time she fired me last night. There's a hundred or so other restaurants in Williamsburg who would gladly hire me as an evening cook, so fuck Gail and fuck the Holiday Inn 1776."
"So where's you're date, Skid?" Bear inquired as our waitress approached.
"Out of my room, life and no doubt back to the world's oldest profession."
"Oldest profession?"
"Yes Bear, unlike that whack job Gail, Cindy is truly a whore and so is Whitey's date Wendy. He's probably out of some money right now as we speak."
"A hooker, eh? I had my suspicions. So how much did she run you?"
"Some how I wrangled a freebee from her. I guess she was in a generous mood last night. I kind of had my suspicions as well. Those kind of floofy haired gals seldom check into a motel or hotel local to them unless they're up to something. Unmarried like those tarts are, I knew it wasn't a case of them telling their husbands that they were going to be staying with a sick aunt or something. After the cocaine came out I figured they were high quality party gals, but before we laid down Cindy fessed up. During a cigarette break last night Cindy's pillow talk consisted of how she was going to attempt plying her craft in the D.C. area, but for now she would help her mother out around the house."
"A whore with a heart." Bear said just as our waitress arrived.
"Excuse me! What did you say?" she demanded, a menu firmly grasped in her hands.
"Oh I was telling my friend here about a Las Vegas brothel employee I read about in the paper whom was donating to local charities."
"Oh."
With that out of the way Bear ordered coffee, six scrambled eggs, four sides of sausage, two sides of bacon, four slices of toast and a large order of hash browns. He passed on the grits.
"Look here comes Denny." I said as our friend entered and made a pass at the waitress as she went to put in Bear's order. Whistling while seating himself he appeared rather chipper. "Good morning, gentlemen."
"Well look who it is." I laughed, adding: "A light weight. That hot blonde told me she wanted you, but thought you to be much too wasted."
"Yeah thanks for doping me up with too much of my own hash, you dog."
"I'd never do that to an old comrade."
"Bullshit. I figured as much after waking up with a clear head. Don't worry Skid, even if a payback is in order."
"Oh I'll be on the lookout, Skid." I returned while holding my coffee cup aloft in good cheer. "After all such is the way of dogs. Speaking of which, look who's coming in."
It was Whitey, looking in his wallet and shaking his head at the same time as he entered. Upper lip curled into a snarl instead of biding us good morning he glared at me and hissed: "So how much did you have to pay?
"Pay?"
"Yeah for that lounge lizard."
"Lounge lizard?"
"That purring pleasure girl you ended up with last night."
"Absolutely no charge other than the booze and weed."
"No charge? Fuck man, that Wendy chick charged me two hundred big ones."
"Two hundred dollars?"
"That's right, two hundred smackers."
"Well all I can say is thanks Whitey."
"Thanks? I probably can't afford to buy myself breakfast in this joint." At that I pulled five twenties out of my wallet and placed them in front of him on the table. "Here Whitey, I wouldn't want to see you suffer for my pleasure." Bear however tapped his big fingers loudly on the table and said: "Let that be a lesson for both of you to heed. The gains attained by such deviance comes not without a price."
The next two days we spent hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains and those evenings stayed in either Bear's or mine room reveling. Gail called our rooms a few times and even knocked on my door once, but we did not let her inside.
Tuesday morning we packed it up and headed back east.
Then Bear came lumbering in the restaurant, a grimace upon his broad face. While seating himself at the table I bade him: "Good morning." In returned he issued a low rumbling growl. "So where's your date, Bear?" I chuckled, but he glared at me with his stormy grey eyes and growled: "Fuck that crazy bitch. Not all that long ago I had to tell her to fuck off." He then motioned for a waitress.
"But you two seemed to be getting on so good last night."
"Yeah, but she went weird on me this morning."
"Weird?"
"Yeah weird. She was going on about how we should start dating after having such a pleasurable night together. Something about how we were made for each other. Well I told her to slow down, that we had only just met and somehow she twisted my words into me more or less me calling her a whore."
"Ahhhh Gail." I laughed.
"She also told me to tell you that you're fired."
"Good. I wasn't planning to go back after the first time she fired me last night. There's a hundred or so other restaurants in Williamsburg who would gladly hire me as an evening cook, so fuck Gail and fuck the Holiday Inn 1776."
"So where's you're date, Skid?" Bear inquired as our waitress approached.
"Out of my room, life and no doubt back to the world's oldest profession."
"Oldest profession?"
"Yes Bear, unlike that whack job Gail, Cindy is truly a whore and so is Whitey's date Wendy. He's probably out of some money right now as we speak."
"A hooker, eh? I had my suspicions. So how much did she run you?"
"Some how I wrangled a freebee from her. I guess she was in a generous mood last night. I kind of had my suspicions as well. Those kind of floofy haired gals seldom check into a motel or hotel local to them unless they're up to something. Unmarried like those tarts are, I knew it wasn't a case of them telling their husbands that they were going to be staying with a sick aunt or something. After the cocaine came out I figured they were high quality party gals, but before we laid down Cindy fessed up. During a cigarette break last night Cindy's pillow talk consisted of how she was going to attempt plying her craft in the D.C. area, but for now she would help her mother out around the house."
"A whore with a heart." Bear said just as our waitress arrived.
"Excuse me! What did you say?" she demanded, a menu firmly grasped in her hands.
"Oh I was telling my friend here about a Las Vegas brothel employee I read about in the paper whom was donating to local charities."
"Oh."
With that out of the way Bear ordered coffee, six scrambled eggs, four sides of sausage, two sides of bacon, four slices of toast and a large order of hash browns. He passed on the grits.
"Look here comes Denny." I said as our friend entered and made a pass at the waitress as she went to put in Bear's order. Whistling while seating himself he appeared rather chipper. "Good morning, gentlemen."
"Well look who it is." I laughed, adding: "A light weight. That hot blonde told me she wanted you, but thought you to be much too wasted."
"Yeah thanks for doping me up with too much of my own hash, you dog."
"I'd never do that to an old comrade."
"Bullshit. I figured as much after waking up with a clear head. Don't worry Skid, even if a payback is in order."
"Oh I'll be on the lookout, Skid." I returned while holding my coffee cup aloft in good cheer. "After all such is the way of dogs. Speaking of which, look who's coming in."
It was Whitey, looking in his wallet and shaking his head at the same time as he entered. Upper lip curled into a snarl instead of biding us good morning he glared at me and hissed: "So how much did you have to pay?
"Pay?"
"Yeah for that lounge lizard."
"Lounge lizard?"
"That purring pleasure girl you ended up with last night."
"Absolutely no charge other than the booze and weed."
"No charge? Fuck man, that Wendy chick charged me two hundred big ones."
"Two hundred dollars?"
"That's right, two hundred smackers."
"Well all I can say is thanks Whitey."
"Thanks? I probably can't afford to buy myself breakfast in this joint." At that I pulled five twenties out of my wallet and placed them in front of him on the table. "Here Whitey, I wouldn't want to see you suffer for my pleasure." Bear however tapped his big fingers loudly on the table and said: "Let that be a lesson for both of you to heed. The gains attained by such deviance comes not without a price."
The next two days we spent hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains and those evenings stayed in either Bear's or mine room reveling. Gail called our rooms a few times and even knocked on my door once, but we did not let her inside.
Tuesday morning we packed it up and headed back east.
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