Deviation (14 page)

It was almost 9pm when Frank rolled the old Escort off
of Interstate 80 and onto 29 outside Omaha. He'd been driving for
over four hours and his back was beginning to protest. He got off
at the first exit and turned the car south onto highway 75. A
well-lit sign announced they were entering Bellevue, Nebraska.
There were several restaurants and hotels lining the street and he
slowed down, looking them over.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Shall
we splurge tonight and eat dinner? Sleep in a bed?”

Dianne was resting comfortably in the passenger seat,
her feet propped up on the dashboard. She'd stopped drinking beer
hours ago, but the two of them had just finished smoking the second
half of their earlier joint. She glanced lazily out the window.
“Sounds good to me. See any place that's Italian? I'm
buying.”

“Italian would be fine, although I'm not sure
we're going to find anything better than a chain pizzeria.”

“That's okay. Pizza is what I wanted anyway.”

“Well, then, you're in luck.” He pulled
into the small parking lot of Godfather's Pizza.

Dianne sat up in her seat, gazing out at the
restaurant. “If this is a chain, I never heard of it.”

“Me either. But it looks open.”

“I can smell the garlic from here.”

“That's a good sign.” He parked the car
and shut off the engine.

Inside, they chose a secluded table near a window.
The waitress was a large, misshapen old woman with a perpetual
scowl. She took their order and walked off, saying almost nothing.

“Nice lady,” Dianne said.

“She's had a rough life.”

“How can you tell?”

“It's obvious. The world wears you down when
you play by the rules. It's something I'm trying to save you from,
Dianne.”

She smiled at that. “Thank you.”

The pizza came quickly, and they were mildly surprised
to find that it was good. They drank water for a change, giving
their systems a break from the alcohol.

“How are you doing, by the way?” Frank
asked. There weren't many people in the small seating area, so they
had plenty of privacy. “Everything copacetic?”

She took a second slice of pizza and set it on her
plate. “Yes. I'm trying to concentrate on having fun. I've
never done this before, and I'm finding it just might agree with
me.”

“I'm very glad to hear that.” He reached
into his pocket and pulled out one of his little plastic bags. It
was the one he'd obtained from Lester's shirt pocket. He set it on
the table and proceeded to remove the sheet of blotter from within.

Dianne watched him closely, her eyes briefly scanning
the room to make sure they weren't being observed. “Time for
more drugs?”

“I really think you'll like this. If you're
serious about concentrating on having fun, this could open up whole
new worlds for you.” He separated two tabs from the sheet and
gently placed them on the edge of her paper plate.

She stared at them, a bemused expression on her face.
“I'm not even sure what they are, or what I'm supposed to do
with them.”

“It's acid.” Frank pulled off four more
hits and slipped them into his mouth. “Just suck on the paper
for a minute or two. You can swallow it, but you don't have to.”
He returned the remaining doses to the bag and put it away. “Don't
worry. It has no taste.”

“I wasn't worried about the taste.” She
studied the blotter for a minute and then carefully lifted it up
with two fingers, admiring the tiny blue unicorns printed on the
surface. “I've heard crazy things about this stuff.”

“Almost all of it is untrue, I assure you.
You've probably heard about marijuana being a killer weed, too, at
some point.”

She nodded, still smiling. “So I won't leap off
the roof, thinking I can fly?”

“I can't say for certain, but it's very
unlikely.”

“Will I hallucinate?”

“Probably not. Not in the way you're thinking,
anyway. You'll be more likely to notice the intricacies within
everyday objects. Within everything, really. It's a different way
of seeing the world. It doesn’t so much alter your perception
as it does unlock it.” He took a sip of water. “It
will bring you closer to god; or, more specifically, to nature.”

“Well...” She considered it for a moment.
Then she sighed and set the paper on her tongue. “What the
hell. I've always liked nature, and I'm obviously up for new
adventures.”

Frank smiled. “You won't be sorry, Dianne.
Happy trails, by the way.”

“What do you mean?”

“You'll know exactly what I mean in about an
hour.”

* * *

They rented a room two blocks from the pizza place, at
a Rodeway Inn. They were on the second floor, the windows
overlooking the parking lot. Frank set their bags down near the big
double bed and turned to regard Dianne as she shut the door behind
her.

“Not bad for $60,” he remarked.

She was carrying her imported bottle of rum which was
still unopened. She stepped further into the room and set it on a
small table near the bathroom door. “It beats the hell out of
the car. I thought for sure we'd be sleeping in it.”

“Only as a last resort. We'll do what we want
to do as long as we can. When that no longer works for us we'll do
what we have to.”

“I don't even want to think about it right now.
God, that bed looks good!”

Frank frowned. “You won't be getting much
sleep, I'm afraid.”

“What? Why not?”

“The acid won't allow it.”

She looked almost shocked. “Are you serious?
Why did we take it so late at night?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the
time. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Once it kicks in, you won't be
the least bit tired. We can sleep in the morning. What's the
difference?”

She thought about it. “I guess it doesn't
really matter. It's not like I have to get up early for work or
anything.”

“Exactly. You're free now.”

Dianne stepped up to him, wrapping her arms around him
and kissing him on the mouth. “I am, aren't I?”

“You are.”

“And it's all thanks to you.”

“It's thanks to the decisions you've made.”

“True. But I was pretty heavily influenced by a
certain rogue priest.”

“You think I'm a rogue?”

“Maybe. A little bit at least.” She
stared at him. He looked different somehow.

“Everything okay?”

She nodded. She knew she was on drugs, but for the
first time she really felt it. There was an unfamiliar heaviness
settling in, altering the way her body and mind coalesced. She'd
never even been conscious of the connection before, but she
certainly was now. They were tangled together, inseparable, and as
she considered their extraordinary symbiosis, she pictured the word
Drugs in her mind and saw it lit up there like a neon sign. Every
cell in her body felt like it was on drugs. It was scary and
exciting at the same time.

“I think it's kicking in,” Frank said.

It took her a few seconds to realize what he was
talking about. As she was looking at him, the individual strands of
stubble on his cheeks seemed to sway and shift, trading places with
each other. His whole face was shifting, very subtly, and then
shifting back again before she could get a handle on it. “You
look weird,” she said.

“It's the acid. It's fresher than I would have
guessed.”

“Is that good?”

“It is if you want to experience a bona fide
trip. I probably should have only given you one hit.”

She thought for a moment that Frank was aging rapidly,
right before her eyes. The shallow creases in his face deepened
into wrinkles and his face itself softened and began to loosen. It
only lasted for a second and then it was gone. Then it was back,
suddenly, and his face appeared to be melting like hot wax. She had
to blink and look away. When she did, she realized her eyes felt
funny, almost as if they'd been peeled. It was hard to be sure.
“I'm really fucked up.”

“It's just getting started. Perhaps you ought
to sit down.”

“Perhaps I should.” She watched as Frank
lifted a hand to scratch behind his ear. The movement of his arm
left a blurry sort of rainbow, as if she were seeing him in slow
motion. She blinked again, simultaneously noticing an odd taste in
her mouth and a flickering in her vision. “Perhaps I ought to
sit down.”

“That's a good idea.”

He helped her to sit on the edge of the bed. Her
muscles felt as if they'd been liquified. Even her hands felt
strange, like they had someone else's skin stretched over them. The
skin was too tight. She raised one and looked it, amazed to see
that it left another brief rainbow-trail as she moved it.
“Perhaps,” she said.

“Perhaps what?”

“Perhaps.”
She waved her hand in front of her face, marveling at the colors
that streaked before her eyes. “Perhaps... everything is so
bright
.”

“Tripping can be very visual.”

Dianne stared at her hand. It appeared to be moving
on its own, the muscles beneath the skin pulsing and modifying
themselves into new, ever changing formations. Even the skin itself
seemed to be alive and breathing. It bothered her and she closed
her eyes for a minute, attempting to reclaim herself.

It didn't work. With her eyes closed she saw other
things, things she probably wasn't supposed to see. It was likely
the capillaries in her eyelids she was seeing, but they had taken on
new life. She watched them move around and transform into endless
patterns and shapes. Faces began to appear and she quickly opened
her eyes again, trying to get away from them.

“I'm not sure I like this,” she said.

“You'll get used to it after a bit,” Frank
promised. “Personally I love it. I'd like to live here.”
He pulled a bag of weed from his pocket and sat beside her on the
bed. “A little smoke will enhance the visuals.”

“Oh, god.” She slid off the bed and got
to her knees on the floor. She eased herself forward, rubbing her
hands over the surface of the carpet. “Look at them all,”
she whispered. The carpet was covered in sparkling jewels, all of
them dancing and glittering and breathing. “There are so many
of them!”

“An endless supply,” Frank agreed. He
fumbled out his rolling papers and began to roll a joint.

“What are they? My god, they're everywhere!”
She crawled forward on her hands and knees, rubbing her hands all
over the floor. She tried to collect the things she saw, and then
realized they were all over her, too. She was made of them.
“They're everywhere! They're...everything.”

Frank had finished rolling his joint. He put his
baggie away and found his lighter. “It's the world, Dianne.
You've never really seen it before.”

“Perhaps.” She liked that word. She
could see it as it came out of her mouth. It was light and airy,
and it floated to the carpet and became lost in the sea of shifting
jewels. She sat up, staring at her hands again. They were
changing, growing, breathing. They were covered with pores. Of
course they were. Why hadn't she ever noticed them before? “This
is amazing. Is this really happening?”

“It is for now. Come sit with me and smoke a
little.”

She looked over at him. He looked like some sort of
human animal dressed up in a priest costume. Is that what he was?
A human animal? She realized she was a human animal, too. All
people were human animals. They were not much different from
insects; not much different from shit beetles. Why weren't they
aware of it? “Why do we...?”

Frank lit the joint. “Why do we what?”

She crawled closer
to him. “Why do we...” She ran her hands over his pant
leg. “My god, you're
covered
in
them!”

“So are you, Dianne.” He took a hit and
offered her the joint. “It's nothing to worry about. They're
always there; we're usually just not able to see them.”

“I
love
them!”

“As do I.”

She took the joint. She stared at it, mesmerized.
“It's... it's covered in them, too.”

“Everything is. It wants you to smoke it,
Dianne.”

She put it to her lips. Her mouth tasted strange and
she thought maybe the smoke would help. She inhaled deeply, her
whole body glowing from within.

Frank slid off the bed and sat beside her on the
floor. “Just relax and enjoy yourself. Forget everything
you've ever been taught.”

She smiled and passed him the joint. There were faces
in the smoke and they were all grinning at her.