Tuesday, June 27, 2006

On the Road to Woodstock -part sixteen

Sherry was taking us to the Hog Farm by way of the road that went past the trailer where I had seen the girl in the mesh top, and just passing the place made me excited. My mind was still on the acid we were going to take in a little while, and I wondered what it would've been like to see those girl's breasts while I was tripping. I probably would still be there staring at them.

We were walking two by two with John and I following Linda and Sherry. As we passed the trailer, I started to say something to John about my experience there, but I decided not to. It was a memory I wanted to keep to myself for the time being, and, besides, I was sure John had seen plenty of girls' breasts anyway and probably wouldn't think much of it.

After passing the trailer, the road was surrounded by woods on both sides. The girls were talking to each other, but I couldn't hear what they were saying, though they seemed to be excited. I was excited, too. I was looking forward to tripping.

"Pretty colors," I said to John.

"Yeah, pretty colors." He looked at me and smiled. We walked along for another minute or so, and then John asked me, "How long has it been since you took some acid?"

I had to think a minute. "About three weeks ago. I took a hit of green ‘ozzly’."

"‘Ozzly’," John said. "Isn't that the name of the guy who makes acid?"

"Yeah," I said. "It's weird, though. His name is spelled o-w-s-l-e-y."

"You'd think it would be pronounced 'ow-zzly'."

"Yeah," I said, "you'd think so."

"Look," John said, and he pointed with his finger. "There's that pink and white tent they been talking about."

Coming to a clearing, I saw it, too. "Yeah, that must be the first aid place."

"If this is some of that 'bad acid' they been talking about, we all may end up here," John said, and he chuckled.

"I don't know," I said. "They haven't been talking about 'bad acid' since yesterday." I looked at the tent, and it was very large and open with various degrees of activity going on underneath it. There were men and women who I assumed to be doctors attending to people who were laid out on the many cots that occupied much of the area. As I wondered what was wrong with them, I said to John, "I think maybe it's just people freaking out, anyway. I remember this one guy up at Fort Scott who freaked out on the same kind of acid that I took, and my trip was just fine."

"You're probably right," John said. "Anyway, I'm not worried about it."

"Me, neither," I said.

As we got past the big tent, we entered another wooded area and then came across another clearing, this one much larger, with tents of all sizes and cars and trailers.

"We're here," Sherry announced to all of us, and she spun around in a circle with her arms outstretched like a ballerina. She stopped facing me and John with a big smile on her face. It was if she were already tripping.

"That must be where the food is being served," Linda said, and she pointed off to the left where people were standing in line. There were four open tents all in a row, and people moved past them cafeteria style.

"Well, I'm ready to eat," John said.

"Me, too," I said.

"Let's go, then," Linda said, and we all went and got in line to eat.

The line moved fairly quickly, and it wasn't more than 15 or 20 minutes before we all had paper plates with mashed potatoes, creamed corn and some sort of stew. Finding a dry patch of grass, we sat down on among scores of others who were eating, and we all ate in relative silence with our plastic forks and the large paper cups of water we had gotten with our food.

John was the first to finish. "That was pretty good," he said, and then he let out a big burp.

Linda and Sherry laughed, and then Linda said, "It's pretty good food, all right, for a chow line."

"It's pretty good," Sherry agreed.

"Yeah, it's okay," I said with more enthusiasm than I actually had. Truth be told, I didn't care for it much, but I was hungry, and it was edible.

John stood up and went and put his empty plate in a big metal drum that served as a trash can. I still had food on my plate, but I wasn't much hungry for it, so I stood up and followed John to the garbage receptacle.

"You're not going to eat that?" John asked me.

"No, I'm not that hungry."

"Give it to me, then," he said, "I'll eat it." I handed John my plate, and he finished it off right there by the garbage bin. He dumped the plate in the trash, and we headed back to where the girls were.

They were just finishing up, and we walked with them back to the garbage can where they discarded their plates, and then we all four headed back towards the tent.

By the time we made it back, it was almost seven, and the sun was getting close to the horizon. Linda pulled a blanket out of the tent and spread it out, and we all sat down.

"Well," I said and looked at John. "It'll be getting dark in another hour."

"I guess you want to take the acid."

"I don't know," I answered. "What do you think?"

"What do you think, girls?" John looked at Linda and Sherry.

Sherry looked at Linda with wide eyes. She looked eager.

"Sure," Linda said, "let's do it." She looked at me. "That is if you're ready."

"Yeah, sure," I said. I got the dollar bills the acid was wrapped in out of my pocket. "You said you could split it up?"

"I sure can," she said.

I unwrapped the dollar bills and handed her the tinfoil. "Here."

Linda took the folded tinfoil and went inside the tent. She came back out with a book and a penknife. She opened up the tinfoil and handed me the two tabs of acid. She spread the tinfoil out on the book flattening out the wrinkles. "Okay," she said, "let me have one."

I handed her one of the little purple pills and watched carefully as she took the tiny tablet and split it in half with the little knife. She gave me the two halves, and I gave her the other whole one, and she split it up as she did the other one. When she was done she looked at me and asked, "So these are for us?" She motioned to Sherry and herself.

"Yep," I said.

Linda handed a half tab to Sherry, and I handed a half tab to John. "I've heard you get off quicker if you hold the tab under your tongue and let it dissolve," Linda said to everyone. So with that tidbit of information, I put my hit under my tongue and got ready for the interminable wait to get off.

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