kitchen-4Doc! Bill had been carrying around that acid tab awhile, or actually, he had finally left it in his locker downstairs. Now that he was working and he and his fiance were getting a little ahead, he could see Doc when he wanted, score some weed, some speed, some Quaaludes and assorted other stuff. He’d fed Mary some downers with red wine at The Upper Room, that on top of weed. She’d gotten dreamy, slow and lazy. He’d laid her out on the bed and…

Well he wanted to trip now, but it was already afternoon. He was uncertain how this batch of acid would affect him, so he decided to wait till tomorrow. The good thing about Doc was that he did what he sold. So when he offered up the acid, he told Bill from his own experience it was a bit edgy but really potent. Good hallucinating shit, was how he’d referred to it. But then he’d warned that you needed the ludes to come down.

Bill remembered. When he got busted an undercover cop was planted in his paddy wagon. That undercover led a conversation which was secretly  recorded and which showed up verbatim at his trial. Bill had been knocked unconscious and was way out of it. He didn’t know what he was saying. He had no idea what was going down. About a month later that same undercover tried to sell him some weed in one of the back streets. He didn’t recognize Bill, but Bill knew him. Bill knew then how they had what they had on him. He knew then, definitively, he’d been a victim of entrapment. He remembered noting, even all messed up in his head, how unusual it was that that guy was let out from the holding cell in less than an hour.

“Yeah, what it is,” Henry Lee said when Bill came into the meat room. “Marie was crazy yesterday. She one wild heifer.”

“Wanna get high?” Bill changed the subject posthaste. “What do you need cut?”

“Listen man, you could have her, you know? I ain’t jealous or possessive. She give good head too.”

Bill went over to the bourbon drawer. He reached under the towels and retrieved the bottle. He helped himself to a good, long drink. Then he took a joint from his shirt pocket. “C’mon, let’s go in the deep freeze.”

“Just cut some tops,” Henry Lee said when they were back at their cutting tables. “It’s been slow in both stores. Man, this is good weed.”

“It is, isn’t it? It’s a new batch.”

“You got more?”

“You want some?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll get you an ounce. It’s thirty bucks.”

“Good. Freda’ll like this one.”

They worked about forty-five minutes, mostly in silence before Mary came in. Mary was wearing bobby sox today. She sat on the counter swinging her legs like always.

High and happy, Bill put down his knife and walked up to her. He leaned in, kissed her, and at the same time he reached up her dress and copped a nice, intimate feel of her.

Mary kissed him back. Then, when his hand got too intimate, she slapped his arm and told him to get away. Bill laughed and didn’t move away until she’d slapped his arm three more times.

“Boy what’s wrong with you?”

“Everything’s rosy.”

“And I ain’t talking to you,” she said to Henry Lee. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself after that whatever-the-hell-it-was yesterday. Tommy ought to get rid of her, and I’m gonna tell him to do so. Only a matter of time before your wife loses it and does something to her.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Henry Lee said. “Have a drink, girl. Bill got some great weed. C’mon, I’ll take you into the deep freeze.”

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