Authors: Beatrice Sparks
Jill winked at me and said, “Tonight we’re playing ‘Button, Button, Who’s Got the Button?’ You know, the game we used to play when we were kids.” Bill Thompson, who was stretched out next to me, laughed, “Only it’s just too bad that now somebody has to baby-sit.”
I looked up at him and smiled. I didn’t want to appear too stupid.
Everyone sipped their drinks slowly, and everyone seemed to be watching everyone else. I kept my eyes on Jill supposing that anything she did I should do.
Suddenly I began to feel something strange inside myself like a storm. I remember that two or three records had played since we had had the drinks, and now everyone was beginning to look at me, The palms of my hands were sweating and I could feel droplets of moisture on my scalp at the back of my neck. The room seemed unusually quiet, and as Jill got up to close the window shades completely I thought, “They’re trying to poison me! Why, why would they try to poison me?”
My whole body was tense at every muscle and a feeling of weird apprehension swept over me, strangled me, suffocated me. When I opened my eyes, I realized that it was just Bill who had put his arm around my shoulder. “Lucky you,” he was saying in a slow motioned record on the
wrong speed voice, “But don’t worry, I’ll baby-sit you. This will be a good trip. Come on, relax, enjoy it, enjoy it.” He caressed my face and neck tenderly, and said, “Honestly, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Suddenly he seemed to be repeating himself over and over like a slow-motioned echo chamber. I started laughing, wildly, hysterically. It struck me as the funniest, most absurd thing I had ever heard. Then I noticed the strange shifting patterns on the ceiling. Bill pulled me down and my head rested in his lap as I watched the pattern change to swirling colors, great fields of reds, blues and yellows. I tried to share the beauty with the others, but my words came out soggy, wet and dripping or tasting of color. I pulled myself up and began walking, feeling a slight chill which crept inside as well as outside my body. I wanted to tell Bill, but all I could do was laugh.
Soon whole trains of thought started to appear between each word. I had found the perfect and true and original language, used by Adam and Eve, but when I tried to explain, the words I used had little to do with my thinking. I was losing it, it was slipping out of my grasp, this wonderful and priceless and true thing which must be saved for posterity. I felt terrible, and finally I couldn’t talk at all and slumped back onto the floor, closed my eyes and the music began to absorb me physically. I could smell it and touch it and feel it as well as hear it. Never had anything ever been so beautiful. I was a part of every single instrument, literally a part. Each note had a character, shape and color all its very own and seemed to be entirely separate from the rest of the score so that I could consider its relationship to the whole composition, before the next note sounded. My mind possessed the wisdoms of the ages, and there were no words adequate to describe them.
I looked at a magazine on the table, and I could see it in 100 dimensions. It was so beautiful I could not stand the sight of it and closed my eyes. Immediately I was floating
into another sphere, another world, another state. Things rushed away from me and at me, taking my breath away like a drop in a fast elevator. I couldn’t tell what was real and what was unreal. Was I the table or the book or the music, or was I part of all of them, but it didn’t really matter, for whatever I was, I was wonderful. For the first time that I could remember in my whole life, I was completely uninhibited. I was dancing before the whole group, performing, showing off, and enjoying every second of it.
My senses were so up that I could hear someone breathing in the house next door and I could smell someone miles away making orange and red and green ribbed Jell-o.
After what seemed eternities I began to come down and the party started breaking up. I sort of asked Jill what happened and she said that 10 out of the 14 bottles of coke had LSD in them and, “button, button,” no one knew just who would wind up with them. Wow, am I glad I was one of the lucky ones.
Gramp’s house was dark when we got home, and Jill helped me to my room, out of my clothes and into bed, and I drifted off into a seasick type of sleep, wrapped in a general sense of well-being, except for a slight headache that probably was the result of long and intense laughing. It was fun! It was ecstatic! It was glorious! But I don’t think I’ll ever try it again. I’ve heard too many frightening stories about drugs.
Now that I think back I should have known what was happening! Any dum-dum should have known, but I thought the whole party was so strange and exciting that I guess I just wasn’t listening or maybe I didn’t want to listen — I’d have been scared to death if I’d known. So I’m glad they did it to me, because now I can feel free and honest and virtuous about not having made the decision myself. And besides the whole experience is over and past and I’ll never think of it again.
July 13
Dear Diary,
For two days now I’ve tried to convince myself that using LSD makes me a “dope addict” and all the other low-class, unclean, despicable things I’ve heard about kids that use LSD and all the other drugs; but I’m so, so, so, so, so curious, I simply can’t wait to try pot, only once, I promise! I simply have to see if it’s everything that it’s cracked up not to be! All the things I’ve heard about LSD were obviously written by uninformed, ignorant people like my parents who obviously don’t know what they’re talking about; maybe pot is the same. Anyway Jill called this morning, and she’s going to her friend’s for the weekend and she’ll call me the first thing Monday.
I told her what a great, great, great time I had and she seemed pleased. I’m sure if I hint around she’ll see that I get to try pot just once, then I’ll immediately go home and forget the whole drug set-up, but it’s nice to be informed and know what things are really like. Of course, I wouldn’t want anyone to know I’ve really used them, and I guess I better go get one of those little fishing tackle-type metal boxes to lock you in with a good padlock. I can’t take a chance on anyone reading you, especially not now! In fact, I guess I better take you with me even to the library to look up something about drugs. Thank goodness for the catalogue section, I wouldn’t dare ask anyone. Also if I go now when the library first opens I’ll probably have the whole place to myself.
July 14
On the way to the library I met Bill. He’s taking me out tonight. I can’t wait to see what happens. It’s a completely
new world I’m exploring, and you can’t even conceive the wide new doors that are opening up before me. I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe Lewis G. Carroll was on drugs too.
July 20
Dear close, warm, intimate friend, Diary,
What a fantastic, unbelievable, expanding, thrilling week I’ve had. It’s been like, wow — the greatest thing that has ever happened. Remember I told you I had a date with Bill? Well he introduced me to torpedos on Friday and Speed on Sunday. They are both like riding shooting stars through the Milky Way, only a million, trillion times better. The Speed was a little scary at first because Bill had to inject it right into my arm. I remembered how much I hated shots when I was in the hospital, but this is different, now I can’t wait, I positively can’t wait to try it again. No wonder it’s called Speed! I could hardly control myself, in fact I couldn’t have if I had wanted to, and I didn’t want to. I danced like I had never dreamed possible for introverted, mousy little me. I felt great, free, abandoned, a different, improved, perfected specimen of a different, improved, perfected species. It was wild! It was beautiful! It really was.
July 23
Dear Diary,
Gramps had a little heart attack last night, thank goodness it happened just as I was getting ready to go out and it wasn’t really serious. Poor Gran is pretty much beside
herself, but she’s staying calm on the outside anyway. They haven’t bugged me at all since I’ve been here, and they’ve been so delighted that I’m having a good time and that I’ve met a lot of friends that they stay completely out of my way. Dear-hearted square souls. If they only really knew what was happening! Their eyebrows would be shocked up into the middle of their heads.
Gramps’ attack only means that he’ll be bedridden for a few weeks, but I’ll have to really be careful that I don’t cause any extra trouble so that they’ll want to send me home. Maybe if I start helping more around the house they’ll even think they need me.
I hope nothing happens to Gramps. I love him so much. I know sometime both he and Gran will have to die, but I hope that isn’t for a very long, long time yet. It’s strange, but I’ve never thought much about dying till now. I suppose someday even I will have to die. I wonder if there really is a life after death. Oh, I do hope there is! But that isn’t the part that really worries me. Actually I know that our souls will go back up to God, but when I think about our bodies being buried in the dark cold ground and being eaten by worms and rotting I can hardly stand the thought. I think I’d rather be cremated, yes, I would! I definitely would! I’m going to ask Mom and Dad and the kids as soon as I get home to be sure and have me cremated when I die. They will, they’re a sweet and wonderful and good family and I love them and I’m lucky to have them. I must remember to write to them again this very day. I haven’t been too good about writing, and I must, I simply must be better. And I think I’ll tell them I want to come home, now! Right now! I want to get away from Bill and Jill and all the others. I don’t know why I shouldn’t use drugs, because they’re wild and they’re beautiful and they’re wonderful, but I know I shouldn’t, and I won’t! I won’t ever again. I
hereby solemnly promise that I will from this very day forward live so that everyone I know can be proud of me and so that I can be proud of myself!
July 25
Gramps is getting along fine. I’ve done all the cooking and cleaning and everything so Gran could just stay with him all the time. They really appreciate it and I appreciate them.
6:30
Jill called and invited me to a party, but I told her I’m committed to my grandparents till things are better. I’m glad I had an excuse for not going.
July 28
Mom and Dad have been calling every day since Gramps had his attack. They asked me if I wanted to come home and I really do, but I feel I should stay here till at least next week and help.
August 2
I’m getting bored to the teeth, but at least I’m giving moral support to Gran, and after all she’s done for me all my life that’s the least I can do. Bill called again and asked me for a date and Gran insists that I get out so I guess I’ll go with him but I’ll just baby-sit if he wants to trip.
August 3
Bill had six kids over to his house last night. His folks had gone to the city so they wouldn’t be back till one or two. They were all going to trip on acid, and since I’d been cooped up for so long I decided I might as well take one last trip too. I’m certainly not going to use any of the stuff when I get home. It was groovy, even greater than the others. I don’t see how each trip can be better than the one before, but they are. I sat for hours examining the exoticness and magnificence of my right hand. I could see the muscles and the cells and the pores. Each blood vessel was a fascination unto itself, and my mind still flutters with the wonder of it all.
August 6
Well, last night it happened. I am no longer a virgin! In a way I’m really sorry, because I always wanted Roger to be the first and only boy in my life, but he’s away visiting, in fact I haven’t seen him since I got here. He might have grown into a gawky, stupid, rambling idiot anyhow.
I wonder if sex without acid could be so exciting, so wonderful, so indescribable. I always thought it just took a minute, or that it would be like dogs mating, but it wasn’t like that at all. Actually, last night it took me a long time to get started on the trip. I just sat in the corner feeling left out and sort of antagonistic, then suddenly it happened and I wanted to dance wildly and make love. I hadn’t known that I even felt that way about Bill. He had seemed a nice quiet person who took care of me when I needed support, but suddenly I didn’t have any inhibitions about trying to seduce him, not that he needed much pressure. Actually it still doesn’t seem quite real.
All my life I’ve thought that the first time I had sex with someone it would be something special, and maybe even painful, but it turned out to be just part of the brilliant, freaky, way-out, forever pattern. I still can’t quite separate one thing from another.
I wonder if all the kids had sex — but no, that’s just too awfully animal and indecent! I wonder how shocked Roger would be if he knew, and my parents and Tim and Alex and Gramps and Gran? I think they would be mortified, but no more than I am!
Maybe I even really love Bill, but right now I can hardly even remember what he looks like. Oh, I’m so horribly, nauseously mixed up and — what if I’m pregnant? Oh, how I wish I had someone, anyone, to talk with who knows what they’re talking about.
I hadn’t thought about being pregnant before. Can it happen the first time? Will Bill marry me if I am or will he just think I’m an easy little dum-dum who makes it with everyone? Of course he won’t marry me, he’s only fifteen years old. I guess I’ll just have to have an abortion or something. I certainly couldn’t stand it if I had to leave school like _____ did last year. The kids talked about absolutely nothing else for weeks. Oh God, please, please make me not pregnant!
I’m going to call Mom right now. I’ll get Gran to buy a plane ticket and I am going home tomorrow. I hate this rotten place and I hate Bill Thompson and all that crowd. I don’t know how I ever got mixed up with them, but I was so pleased and felt so smart when they accepted me and now I feel miserable and ashamed as though that’s going to do any good.
August 7
Mom and Dad think I should wait until next week to come home. I couldn’t really argue, because Gran needs me.
But in the meantime I’m not going to answer the phone or step off our property.