A Quiet Piece of Longing – Nine

All of a sudden I was crying without knowing why. My body felt like static and everything was enveloped under a thick, dreamy layer. One second I was at a rave in Miami, and the next I was crying like a babe in a warped Candyland. I didn’t even know why. It was just a fit of tears.

But it faded and I was back to the same hazy numbness. Strobe lights flickered and bounced off the walls in all directions. The beat dropped and crowds of people bounced along with it. I didn’t even know who the artist was. I had just wandered in here for fun. But he was rather good. He scratched the records and yelled with the music.

I had met a girl around the reception. I was just walking out with a beer when she said, “This your first time?” She was thin, pale, and had cornrows.

“Yeah, you know, not much of a raver.”

“Well, this scene’s pretty nice. Where are you from?”
“LA. Shittier place, even shittier people.”

“That’s a long way from home!”

“I left home two years ago. Haven’t been back since.”

“Well you wanna know what’ll make your life even better?”

“What?”

“Acid. You ever try it?”

“Never. I’m a weed guy.”

“I’ll give you a sheet for one-fifty. And that’s cheap.”

“Seriously? That is cheap.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s worth it.”

I said, “fuck it,” and purchased the sheet. It had the pattern of a rainbow on it. Now, I was very drunk and not in a good state of mind. I had heard of acid before. Friends had done it. Family had done it. But I never had. So, consequently, I didn’t know what I was doing or what to expect.

I also didn’t understand anything about set and setting. Surrounded by people in an enclosed space with extremely loud sounds and music? Sounds like a perfect place to trip. Randomly crying and just broke up with somebody? Perfect time!

Plus, I didn’t know how much to take. I stared at the sheet for a good minute, trying to decide the right dosage. Eventually, I landed on the idea of four. So I split them apart and placed all of them on my tongue. I chewed, and then swallowed.

I felt nothing for the next thirty minutes. The song switched to something that sounded more like electronic metal. Then the DJ got up and started rapping. I didn’t like the rapping, but I liked how he screamed it like he was in pain. It took control. I admired it.

A mosh pit opened up and I got sucked into it. Some lady was throwing elbows and another guy was punching. Everyone was jumping up and down and I nearly got swallowed hole by the pit. But I managed to get out and hug the wall.

And then, a wave washed over me. The lights suddenly became too bright and started blinding me. Geometric patterns and shapes shot out from the strobe lights and swarmed my vision. Green squares. Pink triangles.

“Hey, you need a smoke? Looks like you’re stressed.” The man next to me said.

I stared at him for a minute like he had three heads. Something about him was angelic. And I did need a smoke. “Yeah, thank you.” I took it and he lit the end for me.

“Is this your first time at a rave?”

“Man, what is with people asking me that? And yeah, it is.”

“…Are you high?”

I shook my head. “No. No I’m not. Just… stressed and new here.”

He went away and I was left alone to deal with the acid. At least the cigarette was nice. But a wave of feeling washed over me, and that came with hallucinations. Everyone had a glow around them, like an outline. Their silhouettes lit up in the dark. All of them dancing and moshing together like shadowy sinew.

A dam was inside of me, blocking emotion from reaching the heart. And now? The dam lifted all thanks to the drugs. I remembered being a wee kid and my father pushing me away every time I tried to hug him. Then being eight and the same thing happening. And then being thirteen and deciding never to hug anyone again.

I curled up into a ball and sobbed, all while the world exploded before my eyes. And then, in front of me, a silhouette of my father appeared and patted me on the head. Then disappeared. The wave of feeling lifted and I was calm.

And this was when the trip started getting really crazy. I stared up at the roof and began hearing voices telling me it was about to “come down.” I had been blinded by a temporary schizophrenia. Needless to say, I ran the hell out of there. Out of the crowd, down the hallway, and to the exit door. It was night outside. Pitch black.

Outside, I could finally breathe without smelling sweat or mold. I felt that raves were much better outside than stuffed into smelly basements. I stared out at the lights over the hill. They were twinkling and the stars were out. The wind blew and it was icy.

In front of me, an angel appeared taking the form of my mother. But she had white hair. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I’m tired of people asking about that. I may just become a shut in.”

She took a seat next to me and patted me on the head. I wondered what was with that. What was my subconscious projecting? “And why do they tire you?”

“I guess they don’t tire me, but I tire them. I cannot give but I can take. That’s all I do. And I can’t feel anything for them. So… what’s the point?”

“There is a point. Connection’s needed.”

I took a drag of the cigarette and tossed it away. “Maybe. I need it but I don’t. I’m kind of like a parasite. I absorb everything but put nothing out. I’m FUBAR, man. I’m damaged.”

“And what about giving Rose that plane ticket so she’d be safe on the way home?”

“That’s because… I don’t know what I felt. But somewhere in my mind I cared about her. But that doesn’t matter anymore. I couldn’t give to her.”

“You need an awakening. And it’s coming.”

“Bullshit. I’m this way forever.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“I’m certain.”

“Oh, trust me, it’ll come.”

And just like that, the woman in white disappeared.

All of a sudden, I was angry. My mind kept drifting back to my old life, with Cassandra. I swore I heard the sound of my doorbell ringing and then a knock. That’s how I knew my customers were there for weed. And since I dealt at my house, everyone knew I was a weed dealer. But all that did is bring me more customers. It was a secret out in the open.

I remembered Cassandra storming through my front door with a pregnancy test. “Isaiah!” She called out. “Isaiah!”

I walked out from my bedroom all groggy. I was taking a nap. “What’s up?”

“I’m pregnant. That’s why I puked.”

“Are you for real…?”

“Yes, look!”

Then I just got angrier. At the world. At Cassandra. At myself. Whatever the acid was doing to me, it was a cure that was too strong. I had my feelings back! Yay! But no good ones. I was over here and the heaviest things came back to me.

“I miss my son!” I cried. “Fuck!”

I reached into my wallet and grabbed the only picture I had of him. The ultrasound photo with the thumbs up. Like he was saying something to me. Cassandra and I were about to build the crib. We were deciding on a name for him. All until the miscarriage and the drive to the hospital.

The photo swirled around and faces appeared in the dark lines. I wondered what his wife would look like. What college he’d attend. I wondered what my life would be like as a father in Los Angeles. I doubt I’d be a good one. But I would’ve quit the drug dealing and got an actual job. Cassandra would’ve stayed home, and when I got home it would be the family life. That would be nice. It was better than my life now. We were going to name him after me. Isaiah. But that never got to be.

My feet felt unusually soft and wet. And then my knees, and then the rest of my legs. I put the photo back in my wallet and laid down. My vision turned black and it felt like my body was disintegrating. I opened my eyes and a cord was connected to my stomach. It stretched out into the black. All until a light appeared.

“He’s doing good.” A voice said.

“Very fit.” Another one said.

“He’ll be strong.”

I heard a child’s laugh and jumped. Before me, stood a blonde-haired kid with a red bike. “Dad?” He said.

“Isaiah?” I asked

He dropped his red bike and ran over to hug me. I hugged him and it felt so real. I stared at him and he looked like a real person. I had time with him.