Chapter 8 - A Trip Too Far. San Francisco, 1966

Terry parks the family car in a parking spot half a block away from the farewell dinner party being thrown by Harry. His friend has been thrown out of college for possession of five pounds of marijuana and the judge gave him the choice of prison or a term in Viet Nam. He's made his choice. He has a bus ticket for Mexico the next day and he's invested in a Teach-Yourself-Spanish textbook as he figures he may be gone a long time.

"Leary would be proud of me, man." Harry had joked on the phone to Terry, "I've always wanted to be a fugitive with false identities and secret service hounds on my trail! Yeow!"

"At least the weed is good down South!" Terry had consoled, sensing the fear that Harry concealed beneath his flamboyancy.

"Yeah, man! And those senoritas with castanets attached to each nipple - Clack! Clack! Clack! So anyway, you going to make it to my farewell fling or what?"

"Sure thing! And…is it okay if I bring Michelle?"

"Hey, you don't need to ask, man," Harry's voice suddenly sober and considerate, "You know that we all support you in this."

"It's appreciated, guy. Okay, 8 O'clock? Bring bottles of Tequila? Till then! Keep your eyes open for the military police!"

Terence cuts the engine and glances to his right where Michelle is staring straight ahead through the windscreen and he wonders what she sees. He wants to say something funny so that she'll laugh her electric cackle and snap him with a retort to knock him off of his feet. But the inevitable disappointment chokes the humour in his throat. He gives a heavy sigh and gets out of the car.

He walks around the front bonnet and opens the passenger door for her. She trembles slightly but still gazes fixedly in front.

"Michelle, ma belle, Michelle, come on, babe, it's time to go to the party!"

"Huh?" she says, coming out of her dream a little, "Which party?" she asks with slowed-down syllables. Her face is beautiful but pale. It's clear that something vital has abandoned her frontier with the world, retreating within to hold secret counsels with hazy fragments of memory.

"Harry's party, sweetheart - You remember? He's leaving tomorrow."

"He is?" She asks, kind of puzzled as she accepts his arm and steps out of the car. "Well, where's he going?" She stands in the street, lost as Terry lets go of her for a second to close and lock the door. He retakes her arm and leads her onto the pavement.

"He's going to Mexico, babe."

"I've never been to Mexico." She drawls wistfully, keeping up with his step as they pass by glowing store-fronts but lacking any initiative of her own to press on.

"Yeah, you have!" He reminds her patiently, "You went with your sister at Easter."

"Oh, yeah." She thinks for a few puzzled moments as an idea struggles to the surface "Did… Did we eat chocolate there?" Her voice ending on a high note.

"I don't know, babe, maybe it all melted in the heat."

They come to the apartment building, announce themselves on the intercom and climb the stairs to the third floor. The door is open and they drift into the brightly-lit rooms that contrast the dullness of the hallway.

"Hey! Hey! It's Terry and Michelle! Good to see you's - you look like shit!"

"Well, it's a lot of steps!" Terry explains.

"Well, why didn't you take the elevator - The technology too complex?" Harry roars with beer on his breath.

" Oh, no - It's just that Michelle doesn't like much to be inside closed spaces these days."

"Oh." Harry's smile flickers for a moment as he looks at Michelle whose eyes are tracing patterns on the ceiling. His enthusiasm returns with conquering vitality, "Hey, Michelle! You're looking beautiful - You still with this jerk here?" He leans in to kiss her but she hides behind Terry's shoulder, intimidated by the intensity of the host. "Well, anyway," He resumes, shooting a sympathetic look at his friend, "Come in and start laying waste to all these illegal substances." He spins and heads back to the less awkward company of the party.

Michelle buries her head in Terry's shoulder blade and he can feel the jolts of her sobbing. He turns and holds her to his chest, stroking her hair in calming reassurance. He knows it would be easier for everyone if he just took her home but he hopes that it's this kind of social interaction that might retrieve the Michelle that he loves.

When she calms down, he wipes the salt stains from her cheeks and kisses her on the forehead, "Come on, baby, we're going to have a really cool time with lots of groovy people."

"Will…Will there be ice cream?" She asks with a voice thick with mucous.

"Sure there will be and if there isn't I'll go and get some."

"But you won't leave me alone?" Her voice rising with alarm.

"Hey would I do a thing like that?" He jokes and, with a little more encouragement, she's soon smiling again.

He tries to consider if she's improved in the three months since she went inside one day and didn't come out. He remembers the afternoon when he first saw her like this: He was having lunch in the canteen at college and was supposed to meet her that evening. He'd taken an exam that morning and so hadn't accompanied her to the party the previous night. He wondered how her trip had been.

He was laughing with some friends at a centre table when he saw her standing in the doorway of the exit at the far end. She looked like she'd walked in from an explosion, still in shock. He at once put down his knife and fork and weaved his way through the layout of circular tables to where she stood, swaying uncertainly. He jumped over to her and put his hands to the sides of her shoulders.

"Michelle, baby, what's wrong?" She jolted slightly at the sound of his voice but could not quite meet his gaze, "Hey, Michelle, what's up? Let's go out here on the bench. Now tell me what happened to you?" Her eyes were rigid with fear and doubt, "Did you trip last night?" She nodded quickly, "Did you have a hard time?" Again she motioned with her head and managed to squeak out a muffled 'yes'.

After that she wouldn't say a word and so he just rocked her in his arms the whole afternoon, wishing all the while that he could have been there with her that night to extend his arm and keep her afloat in the storm. Maybe she had no one with her when she was most in need. Maybe if he'd have been with her she might not have opened up the door to whatever flood it was that carried her away. He looked up at the sky and prayed that the damage had not gone deep.

Over the next days and weeks she began to risk small smiles again and to express the small things that formed on the surface of her mind. But her trust for the world had all but been torn apart and she could not disclose the feelings with which she wrestled beneath her shell. There were still demons lurking around, ready to pounce if she exposed a window to her vulnerable psyche. Many times she would look at Terry with trembling fear, no longer sure if he was on her side. It could take hours before she relaxed her guard again.

Yeah, she's definitely improved since the first petrified days but not as much as he might have hoped. She's in therapy but Terry can't hold out much hope for that because she becomes brick wall defensive at the first attempt anyone makes to enquire into her condition. Only by indirect encouragement does she open up a little and appear to enjoy life. He wants to be there for her but doesn't know for how long he'll have the energy to be her nurse.

He loves her. She was the first to take his cherry, the one to turn him on to acid and a whole new vision of life - Without her he might have remained a well-paid dunce for the rest of his days. His debt to her is huge but can he stand to hold onto the ghost of his love forever? Already he has slept with other girls but can't maintain any mind of relationship as long as he still feels responsible for Michelle. It's not fair to try anything sexual with her in this state and it wouldn't feel right, anyway. It would be like fucking a child.

The party goes okay once he gets over the business of introducing her to everyone and finds a secure seat for her in the corner of the couch. The atmosphere is lively and merry. Harry is determined to take his exile as a blessing and makes everyone else feel that it's something to be celebrated. Michelle seems to enjoy herself as she sits back from the main hubbub with a bowl of candy and there's a smile on her lips as she whispers to herself.

Around about midnight, Terry drives her back to her parent's home. They pull up outside the yard of the detached house and he cuts the engine. He turns to her and strokes her long hair.

"Did you have fun tonight?" He asks.

"Yeah." She giggles, "I like Harry!" It's good to see her smiling. Too often there's no expression at all on the outside.. There, the sparkle has gone already…but this time it's not replaced by the usual vacancy. Another feeling is struggling to escape the haze that obscures her shining gem of a soul. Her cheeks twitch with the effort and she breathes deeply as the idea translates itself to words. Finally she grasps it and looks at him. "Terry, when will this end?"

He realises that a portal has been opened, forged through the emptiness and that it may not last long.

"I don't know, baby, soon, soon."

"It's like…being lost in dreams that are sometimes colourful and fun but other times…other times are dark and dangerous!" She shudders and he strokes her neck at its base. "I want to wake up but I don't know which way to go. When will I come down?" She asks him with anxious eyes.

A gulp grows in Terry's throat and his eyes beg to water as he hears the true Michelle for the first time in months.

"I think, baby, it's like when we were children and we'd ask our parents on car journeys 'when will we get there?' and our dads would always tell us 'just as soon as we arrive!' So, I guess you'll come down when you're ready to and not before. Maybe you should just try to enjoy this time because you may never get another chance to spend all the time you want in Dreamland!" He finishes his pep talk and looks over to see that the gateway is already closing over. He wonders if she heard what he just said.

"I'm tired." She complains and though he knows she would just as well sleep all night against his shoulder here in the car, he helps her out and up the garden path to the door of her house. Her mother is there in her night-gown before they can ring the bell and she must have waited up for them to return. She waits while the couple hug each other and then blows Terry a kiss as she quietly shepherds her daughter inside.

Terry walks back to the car, miserable in his impotence. If there was only a mountain he could climb or a demon he could kill! But he can do nothing heroic to save her and he fears he might not have the real courage required to stay as her minder for as long as it might take.