Straight Life - Art Pepper [229]
We'd drive up to the warehouse. We'd get out. We'd find the keys. They always had to look for the keys, they were so disoriented. Then we'd go back into the office and work until nine in the morning over figures and money matters. I'd sit and nod out over this thing I was doing, and one of the old hags would holler, "Hey! Wake up! Art! Wake up!" And I'd say, "Oh, you old bitch, shut up!" Faye would call me into her office and I'd tell her they could take Synanon and stick it up their ass.
That lasted a few months. It finally ended. Everything changed. Every now and then I'd run into somebody who had a little sense and they'd say, "Just cool it. Everything changes. It'll change tomorrow or the next day or next week." I knew I couldn't leave, so I'd go into my games and rave about how much I hated Chuck Dederich and his twenty-four-hour day. I was getting a reputation as the most "negative" person in Synanon. They'd say, "Why don't you just get the fuck out! We don't want you here! You're just ruining our thing!" And I'd say, "Well, I'm going to stay and ruin it for you dumb bastards as much as I can, and when I'm ready to leave I'll leave and not until, and hope you don't like it!"
While we were on the twenty-four-hour day, summer came, and the only thing I enjoyed at that time was going to the beach and riding the waves, trying to get healthy. If I went to bed when I got off work at about 10 A.M. it ruined the whole day, so instead I'd go down to the beach, stay until two, then grab a bite to eat, come back, and go to sleep. On one of those days I got off work at nine, walked back to the Clump, and I was standing there waiting for the Synanon bus to take me to the beach when I saw this car pull up at the corner. There were a few people waiting there for the bus. I saw this car turn the corner, and I looked, and just as I looked the person in the car looked at me, and I said, "Christine!" Evidently she'd been driving around trying to find me.
I should say that when you go into Synanon, for the first ninety days you're not allowed any communication with the outside, no letters, no nothing. I'd been there a couple of months, and I hadn't had any word from Christine. The other people were watching. I couldn't run out to her. I motioned to her hoping she'd understand. I wanted her to go down the street and wait for me. Evidently she got the picture. The bus came and everybody got on, but they were still watching me because they'd dug this little byplay. I started to get on the bus. I said, "Oh, I forgot something," to myself, like. As soon as the bus left I snuck down the street where she was parked. I jumped in the car and laid down in the seat and told her to drive.
She looked terrible. I said, "What's happening?" She said, "Oh, man, it's been awful." She started crying. I said, "What's wrong?" I thought she wanted me to leave with her. I said, "If you want me to, I'll leave." I wasn't ready yet, but I would have gone. She said, "No, let's forget it. You can't leave. You'd just die out here. What would you do?" I said, "There's nothing I can do. I'm too weak now to do anything." At the time I didn't know this, but later on I found out she was already living with some other guy. She still cared for me and she wanted to see me.
We had a terrible conversation. It was useless to pursue it and so I said, "I'll probably get in trouble for this ride and have to leave." She said, "No, I'll get you back." I laid down on the seat again, she pulled into the back of the Clump, and I jumped out of the car and hid. She pulled out of the driveway