They took more Quaaludes and started the second bottle of wine as they smoked the joint. It was quality weed Murph had bought from Doc, his regular supplier. Doc was about forty. He was crackhead skinny though crack hadn’t come on the scene yet and was still many years away. He had a beard, long like Moses but more scraggly, and he was missing teeth. He could have passed for a homeless person. They called him Doc because he made his own LSD and personally took it too, like he did with all the drugs he sold, so all his customers felt assured the drugs they were buying were okay to take. Rumor was that he had been a pharmacist and had lost his license. Murph and his friend Bobby had bought Romilar with codeine from Katz, the owner and pharmacist at the drug store where they grew up. Murph had taken codeine right after he’d started smoking pot. He already was getting drunk on beer regularly so within a few short years he’d progressed from pot to codeine to ups and downs and the hallucinogens.
Murph and Annabelle and all their friends knew about bad trips and bad drugs. Murph would learn about them firsthand when his wife had a bad trip after they took acid at home and MDA at a party. The MDA was in a bowl on the dining room table so people at the party could simply walk up to it, take what they wanted of it and snort it directly into themselves. His wife freaked out and while she was freaking out he was having one of the best trips of his life.
“What do you want to do?” Annabelle asked.
“I’m not going out in that snow. It’s getting blizzard like.”
Annabelle turned on the TV. Cable TV at that time wasn’t even a thought. Color TV had only been around for about twenty years and like Murph, who’d been given a TV by his neighbor from home, Annabelle had a small, portable black and white. She found cartoons and left it on with no sound so they could continue listening to music.
“I’m not going to school tomorrow,” Annabelle said.
“I was hoping you’d say that. I brought some acid. It’s good stuff.”
Annabelle got up and went to the bedroom. She came back with a comforter, sat real close to Murph and covered them both up.
“You ever screwed that girl downstairs from you?” she asked.
“I’m thinking about it.”
“I wouldn’t mind the three of us fooling around together. She’s cute.”
“You think so?”
“She’s all right,” Murph said. “What you got to eat?”
Annabelle made goo-goo eyes at Murph and wiggled her thighs.