The Eden Express_ A Memoir of Insanity - Mark Vonnegut [59]
Magic, wonderful, wondrous things happened when we went to have a beer at the end of Highway 101. It was apparently just the right thing to do.
The most wondrous of the wondrous things was what happened between us and a local guy about our age who came over to buy us drinks like he was pulled by some cosmic magnet. The big thing about him was how cheerful he was. He couldn’t stop smiling. We couldn’t stop smiling back. Here was a perfect example of lots of the things I had been thinking and trying to explain to Simon: how pleasant life could be, how we were all one, how nothing bad could happen.
He used to work in the mill. He had just quit that afternoon and was out celebrating. We congratulated him. We got to laughing, telling stories, slapping each other on the back. There were some ESP-type things and cosmic messages, but the big thing, the thing no one could argue with, was what a wonderful time we had, how famously we got along.
This was the way life should be all the time. This was the way life could be if everyone stopped worrying about all the silly things they worried about. This is what Jesus wanted. We were all in love.
The bar was closing. We hugged our new friend good-by and Simon and I went and pissed on the tippy-top last little bit of pavement of Highway 101.
On to the Prior Road commune to crash. I had put it off as long as I could but everything was closed and Simon was very tired.
We were always welcome at the commune. It was a kindred place with kindred people and kindred dreams.
Was Virginia there? It was possible. There was a red Microbus in the driveway with California plates. We opened the door. It was dark. There were a lot of people crashed on the floor.
Softly, “Could we crash on the floor?”
Softly, “Sure.”
If Virginia was there she didn’t say anything. Maybe she was, maybe she wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to make a big deal asking around. Besides, this was maybe her last night with Vincent or whoever she was with before she came back to the farm and me. I felt like an intruder, so I just lay down trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
The sound of very gentle lovemaking came to me while I lay there, and a soft female voice: “We should have done that a long time ago.” Was it Virginia’s voice? I listened closely but there was no more. Everything was quiet.
A HALF-DREAM. I am in heaven, where the senselessness of pain is clear. The feeling is of peace and fullness. There’s a slight giddiness just below my chest. The magic place of no shadows. Then a sharp pain in my foot, a small bump on the sole, between my toes, like a plantar’s wart. Around it tender and sore but there is no sensation in the bump itself. Picking at it. Little by little I separate it from the surrounding skin. It’s a plug about a quarter-inch across. I pull at it. Pain. It seems to have some sort of roots reaching into my foot. I adjust to the pain and continue to pull at it. It starts to come. The pain very intense but strangely almost pleasurable. Amazed by the size of the thing and how I hadn’t noticed it earlier. I’ve pulled about six inches of foreign growth out of my foot, and there’s no end in sight. A feeling of relief, making my foot all warm and tingly; the more I pull out, the higher the warmth and relief spreads. I pull another six inches and panic for a moment. What if this is all there is? What will be left once I get this thing out? But the gentle strong feeling of warmth and relief reassure me I am doing the right thing and I continue extricating this foreign growth from my system. After each six inches or so I rest, basking in the warmth and relief, letting each part of my body feel its new freedom, past my knee, up to my thigh. There seems to be a particularly tight concentration around my groin that makes it feel all the better when I pull it out. Down my left leg, until my left toes turn warm and free, and up my torso, bringing peace and warmth to my belly and my lower