Chase had considered tripping again, but wasn't sure when that would be, when he would feel ready.� He had been doing a lot of reading on the subject, and what Tim Leary had said about set and setting made a lot of sense.� Chase could certainly appreciate the dangers of psychedelics.� What he needed most of all was to be in a good mood, to be among friends, and to be in good surroundings to make it work right.� Tonight seemed tailor-made for it. Norman had gotten hold of some psilocybin, a derivative of a particular type of mushroom that grows in the Southwest, and was willing to share it with Chase.� Chase decided unhesitatingly.� He would take it, and he and Norman would spend the night a-roving, two lone wolves on the prowl.
The rush came on strongly about two hours after they had swallowed the capsule containing the powdered mushroom.� They sat in the living room, listening to The Doors.� The hallucinations were intense and the two sat for an hour after getting off, immobile, almost unable to speak.� Wave after wave of visual and physical rushes had almost exhausted them.�
Benny entered, curious and playful.� Despite the massive amount of dope he consumed, Benny had never taken a psychedelic.� Was he frightened by it?
"Wow, this stuff really looks like a lot of fun" he jibed."Whoo-whee, boy, you guys.� Don't get up or say anything.� I mean, this is some kind of party, you know what I mean?"
Chase looked at him, slightly bemused, unable to speak a word.� He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
Benny pushed on.� "Doesn't this light bother you, here?"� A bare lightbulb shone, hanging from the ceiling at the center of the room.� Its glare was hardly noticeable to Norman and Chase.� ";Here, let me turn it off for you, so you can have a nice quiet, cozy party, here." He really was being a pain in the ass.
"No don't" Chase perked up.� "It's helping keep the room warm."� Chase put his hands up and felt the radiation from the light bulb warm his palms.
Benny looked over at him, incredulous.�� He shot a glance at Norman who grinned again and shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, yeah, right.� We can't do that.� Oooohhhh, I can feel it.";� Benny put his hands up toward the light, strained his face in its direction, rubbing his chest and arms,"Oh, yeah, oh, I'd better be careful or I might get a tan.� Oh, that's nice.� I should do this more often."� Benny left the room, rubbing his arms and chest saying, "Oooh-whee,� that's really nice...."
Norman grinned at Chase.� "He's an asshole.� Say, you feel like you can take a walk now?� I've got to get up and move a bit.� We can head over to Sally's place.� It'll be quieter there."
Chase felt the weight of inertia holding him on the couch but finally gathered enough momentum to get up and leave.� They went out and walked slowly through the surprisingly warm evening air.� The streets and gardens were full of people, working class, students, old folks, sitting, talking, sipping tea, drinking beer.� He had never experienced the city this way.� There was a rare sense of repose.� Buffalo was actually pleasant, almost beautiful.� Chase felt as if he could fly.
"Do you ever wonder who you are"� Chase said, regretting having said it as it passed his lips.� It was kind of a sophomoric thing to say, and superfluous.
Norman laughed.�� "No.� Do you know who I am?" he asked mockingly.
" I mean, have you ever looked at yourself and said,� 'Well, I'm such and such a weight, so tall, such and such a build?' or like� 'Here I am, a white male, from the Bronx, and I drive an old Volvo, and my hair is long and brown'?� Like that?� All these things we use to define ourselves.� I mean, what is it that really makes us what we are?� Is it what we say about ourselves or what others say about us?"
Chase began to think of the things that defined him.� His books, his records, his clothes, his friends were all parts of him that, as he thought of each of them, peeled away in his imagination, as if he were shedding layers of skin.� As each layer fell away, he could feel himself lightening, his steps quickening.� 'Jewish,' he thought.� 'I'm Jewish, too'.� It was such a burden, to walk through this strange land, his home, to always be a stranger, to be estranged, to be a Jew. �And as he thought of it, he felt himself tear away, not from an outward skin, but as if from an anchoring chain, felt himself rise freely from its tug, felt himself float freely above the pavement as he walked.
Getting Off
by Joshua Tal