Delusion Part 10
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Martha:
Hits like communion, dappled reunion, stared at in wonder, simple sugar cube, you do such interesting things to me.
Emma is glowing, I love her, I can't bring her down with the realities of her situation, maybe she has thought of this scenario before. It's just ridiculous that a fifteen year old, well almost sixteen year old is more capable at raising herself than being raised, but I guess we're both in that boat.
"So where did Ralphie go?"
"He has to work in the morning."
We take a seat on the sagging plaid couch. "Emma, it's amazing outside let's go and commune with the stars,"
"Settle down, I'm not there yet"
"Justin how are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm doing fine, I really don't feel anything,"
"yeah it takes around an hour to really feel the effects"
"I can't believe I'm letting a couple of teenagers subvert my reality," States Justin.
"Shut up Justin, you would let your reality be subverted only by teenagers," I think I am beginning to understand Justin more and more.
Emma looks excitedly towards us and states, "Hey you guys, Martha gave me my first house warming gift"
"Oh great now I have to buy you a damn housewarming gift" I laughingly respond,
"Shut up Sammie let me show it to you, it fucking rocks," Emma strolls into her room and she brings a set of speakers, an ancient record player and an old wooden crate of records.
"Holy shit, moving back in time are we?"
"Believe me records are superior, they have character, I have The Beatles, Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd, Pete Seeger, David Bowie, Neil Young, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead, Malvina Reynolds,"
I interrupt, "Okay, Okay you don't have to tell us every record you got, just put something on, we need some music."
"So Martha must have been a little hippie," states Justin,
"I think she was too old to be a hippie, she was like thirty when that was going on." I state,
"Alright, listen to this," Emma puts the needle down and Bob Dylan starts to play. Knock, bang, panic, who is at our doorstep, I am beginning to trip, this could be bad for us, and the terror is most present in Justin.
"It's okay, just calm down, I'll get the door." Emma stalks closer, "Oh Martha, hey what's up," relief, Emma is hugging Martha in the doorway and inviting her inside,
"Nothing much, I hear you are enjoying the record player, that music got me through a lot of shit." Martha can be crass, I love her for that, she used to be a lawyer and that feisty spirit shines through.
"Emma, are you high?"
"What, well yes"
"Wait, let me look in your eyes dear, they are dilated beyond belief," pause, " you are on acid." Martha states with a shocked grin, "by god I didn't think people still did that." Martha has always been cool but I really thought she would be pissed.
"So you aren't mad" Emma states, even she is shocked.
"Heavens no, I tried the stuff, I did go to law school at Berkley in the late sixties, Of course it was legal back then."
"That's crazy," states Justin,
"hell yeah it was, I think it's time you kids hear the more tawdry details of my life, hell if you're doing acid, I think you can handle it."
"You know I do have another hit, if you want to really relive" Emma inquisitively states,
"No, I shouldn't...not at my age...." Martha is hesitating, rehashing past glories, smiles and fears are written in her eyes, "well, hell you only live once."
I jump up, and shout out, "That is fucking awesome" Justin is smiling and stunned; he must not know what to think. Emma and I have smoked with Martha before, but hell we are stunned as well. And soon Martha has dropped and is weaving the tale of her life.
"Well I guess I'll have to go all the way back. I guess you could call my mother a feminist. As I grew up I wanted to become something more than a housewife and she fostered that interest in me. After I graduated from high school, I had my pick of the litter as far as colleges go. I was pretty bright, and even though I came from a farming family my dad wanted all of us to go to college and he set money aside for each of his kids. I chose a small college in Ohio called Oberlin, it was liberal as hell, and in those days people were more involved in academic debate, and most importantly action. I met my husband there, his dream was to help desegregate the south, he ventured on the freedom rides in 1961, I was scared as hell, but he was so strong, I completely trusted him, he was an idealist, he was compassionate, committed, honest, well at least at first, and he wasn't bad looking either," Martha states that last part with a chuckle.
"He was also very bright, we were married the summer after graduation, and it was my fantasy coming true before me, just lying at my feet. We moved to New York in August, and there he attended Columbia Law School, and I managed to land a surprisingly well paid secretary job for a large law firm. I managed to pay his way through law school I might add. New York was a lot different in those days; you could smoke on a plane, smoke in the grocery store, well hell you could smoke in the doctor's office. And the drinking was just out of hand, its tame now, compared to the sixties at least, and the beer bong wouldn't be invented for decades yet.
New York was seedy, it was crime ridden, and it smelled awful, well I guess some things don't change. Warhol was producing pop art, I saw him across a room once, at a party one of my bosses had thrown, of course I would never have approached him at that period in my life, and I guess I still thought of myself as that shy farm girl from Washington. It was at the law firm that I was first intrigued not only by the profession, but also the wilder side of life. My husband, Walter, or Wally to me, well we used to party like professionals, it seemed like every weekend we would be invited to a party at one of the partner's apartments or to some new club. Looking back we were all alcoholics, I was drinking every day, but back then it was completely normal, you were expected to drink at the office during your lunch, and it would even curry favor with the big wigs.
Wally and I even smoked a joint in New York, which was a huge deal in the early sixties, Wally ran around with the Beatniks and communists at college. All that changed when he graduated in 65' and got a job at a law firm in San Francisco. I missed the whole New York scene, but I was so glad I was somewhat closer to my family, and he was ecstatic about the salary. That idealism of his was fading, and ironically, my idealism was just beginning to upsurge, I was playing housewife in the evenings, but during the day I was the one attending communist cell meetings, organizing food drives for the poor, and making signs for the local antiwar protest."
"So I guess you were a hippie," Justin states while gazing at me smirking.
"Well, I don't know if I would say that, especially at that point, I didn't dress in tie dye and dance in the streets naked, although some of my friends did. It was getting to be the late sixties and Wally was becoming more distant,"
At this point I was traveling with Martha through time, I was her, I was feeling the power of time slip out of its confines.
"And I guess I was becoming more distant too, the more rebellious I became, the more straight laced he seemed to get. It was early 67' and I knew that Wally and I were not going to last much longer, I tried to mend what I could but all that ended when I found him fucking his secretary in our bed after I arrived home early from an impromptu visit with my parents. It was over for me, we got a divorce, and I got a decent alimony. I got an apartment with my friend Alice and that was easily the most freeing year of my life. She showed me the hippie side of life. She was an open lesbian and the most subversive feminist I ever met. She empowered me more than even my mother to become a strong independent human, just an equal human. I would not be cowed any longer. She taught me the strength of being a real person, a fighter. I reexamined my life and applied to Berkley Law in 68', it was the best decision in my life. After I was admitted I met so many wonderful people and was introduced to so many different ideas. And most importantly I met Jim a DJ at the college radio station, he was my second soul mate. I still remember delivering supplies with Jim every Saturday to Alcatraz, to the Indians who were occupying it. I graduated in 71'. I was definitely what you would call a hippie at that point, I didn't take the bar exam, instead me and Jim moved to a commune near the Redwood forest, and that was truly the happiest I ever was in my life, we grew everything we ate, we made love in the grass, we abandoned the outdated theories of oppression, we were a true community, and we didn't have to hide from each other, our souls were open.
"Jim, no way, I can't climb that." "Yes you can, you can do anything, just imagine it, positive thinking is all we need." I'm in love with him, we are standing stark, naked as we came into this world, at the banks, wet and mud encrusted, he is so perfect, so natural, he is Adam and I Eve, "alright, but you have to help me" "Okay grab my hand," I manage to get up to where he is, I am laughing so hard I'm shaking and he stills me with hands exploring, "Stop it" I'm laughing, "we have to get back to the gardens, we have to weed the plants, it's our turn remember." Our calloused hands decide to stay here, weeding ourselves, increasing our own sunlight, enriching our own soil and nourishment. Laughing exploration, hand on breast, lips upon nape, can there be happiness too strong, it almost feels like pain, some sweet sadness. Gentle warm rain falling upon bodice, I ache for his need, insertion, completion. So this is how I make love, palpable tasting savor, I need this. Blotting out all negative reaction, we are nature, natural, part of the whole, thrust, thickness, green all around. Filled, penetrated with admiration and approval, no garment divides our result, orgasmic revolution, souls bared and placidly offered. "Let's go back," Jim offers, we wander, hand holding hand, the endless misery of the world has been slaughtered by our interactions; I am so close to nature at this point and she guides my intuition. ~~ Filter back: The red stinging glow from the lights above are fucking with me and I want to get out of here. Emma is watching Martha who is playing with her records, Justin is staring, I take his hand, we must escape and he holds the same contemplation and we leave. The night is freeing, I stare into dark eyes, I am smiling, he is disrobing, and we run into the night, into the woods, into a stopped time. Martha guides my mind with notion and inspiration. I don't need no other lover, Justin is so here with me, he isn't asking, forcing. The joy of the world upon our brows, oil and water is mixing within us and separation is not inevitable. "Justin" that is all that passes my lips. The acid has taken over, a Kaleidoscopic vision appears untangling realities and mood, we perceive each other vibrating through our outlines. I smile, he smiles, the world is beginning. Reciprocating folly, we are so near, he is my soldier. Further we escape; barriers, unheeded signs, melodies guiding us into and out of reality, the progression of need, want, satisfaction, war. Justin and I finally belong, as one entity, a force, above and below the world. We are the challengers of the unknown, we are one. He is on top of me and we are rolling in the last season's leaves, an offering for us, the newly opened blossoms. Germinated tender starts breaking through debris, humus, death slowly turning into life, cycles completing. Calls in the night, Justin atop, Justin below rolling intermixing, resting, now staring. "Justin, what are you up to?" "What do you mean?" I pause, "What am I to you?" Justin looks to me, "I don't know you're a really cool person that I want to get to know more." Well that's a good answer, I don't know what to feel, but I can't help but feel that there is something that Justin isn't telling me, and I don't know what it could be. "We should get back, Emma is probably freaking out right now." Tread, and back to stages set, an atmosphere manufactured for our return. We enter, Martha is slowly dancing with Emma, and I can't believe her age, Martha seems in this moment not a day over forty, she looks as though she could be Emma's actual mother. Her soft white hair has transformed into golden brown, her wrinkled skin into taunt and gently kissed by the sun. Eyes lighten by our return, "Hey Sammie glad that you're back." Gentle smirks and disagreements, we may be under the influence of one of the most mind-altering, consciousness grabbing substances known to mankind but we still have a grasp on mores, customs, and subtlety. This is thrown to shit as Justin grabs me and kisses me in front of an unaffected and unsurprised Martha. She glides and slights us towards another tale, "You kids, need to get involved politically, gay is the new black, not literally but there are a lot of similarities. When I was at Berkeley, I met Mary Cynthia Dunlap, she was a force to be reckoned with, a tidal wave, an atomic bomb, you could set her off and it was the most clarifying, intense conversation you could ever have, passionate and unabated. I made Alice meet her, I drug her along and knew they would fall, it was all too evident. Mary and Alice were perfect for each other. They never needed small talk; they didn't even introduce themselves to each other at first. Alice's first words to Mary involved a long winded rant about sexism and the new push for the equal rights amendment. Mary and Alice talked for three hours before they knew the other's name. Mary was an advocate for the gay community; she fought so hard for truth, and justice, and equality. I just wish she was still around, we need more like her, we need a few more heroes, one's who won't stand down, won't put up with or tolerate indignities, injustices, disgraces, one's who will fight tooth and nail, last breathes signaling, heralding from the mountains, change, progression. The revolution, the constant modification, all the interactions, these are what set life apart from stagnation and death. And Mary represented those things, pure and good." I blush and am inspired; Martha has opened up more as a human to me in the past 4 hours then has been allowed in my lifetime. I feel a real person emerge, she is willing to present herself. I smile and sense, I gaze and find Justin swimming in his mind, thoughts of counterfeit wisdom, inspired glimpses. Emma nears the crest. Justin and I make our way toward the flit of slumber, a moving of consciousness from one realm to the next, unperceivable sea change. I imagine sleep as travel, we as celestial hordes treading upon time and space as if they were completely movable and tangible. But I think it was from the acid.