When she let out her breath she was smiling.
“Cool,” she murmured. “Deep.”
Stella was getting the second joint going by the time the first one reached Ralph. He took it between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand and brought it to his lips. Despite his misgivings, the sharp odor of marijuana present in the room had made him anxious to turn on, to smoke some of the pot and get high.
He sucked greedily on the joint and tasted the familiar taste of the marijuana, felt the familiar sting as the hot smoke scorched his throat and lungs. He took in as much smoke as he could hold and passed the joint to Elaine. Then he let his eyelids drop shut as he felt the marijuana hit home.
By the time he breathed out Maria was handing him the second joint. He repeated the process. This time the smoke caused less pain to his throat and lungs and he could feel the drug beginning to work, loosening him up and increasing his sensory perceptions. His mind felt much clearer and he could close his eyes and become very conscious of all the organs in his body. He heard his heart pounding out a firm, steady rhythm, felt the blood coursing through veins and arteries, listened to the contraction and relaxation of muscles when he moved his fingers.
One by one they smoked the twelve joints. When the cigarettes had burned down so far that they couldn’t be smoked any longer they were extinguished, and what remained was known as the roach. Henderson walked around the circle, his beady eyes gleaming unnaturally, and passed out a roach to each of the smokers. They each removed some of the tobacco from the end of a regular cigarette and stuffed in the roach, twisting the end of the cigarette to keep it in place.
Then the roaches were smoked. It was like the slaughterhouses in Chicago, where they boast of using “all of the pig but the squeal.” Not a grain of the precious marijuana was wasted.
Ralph was very high, higher than he had been in months. He remained on the floor with his legs out in front of him and his eyes closed. Everything felt so good, so perfectly peaceful. Nothing mattered anymore. To hell with Stella, to hell with Susan, to hell with everybody. He just didn’t care about a thing, not a single thing.
He stood up precariously and surveyed the room. He felt completely at ease now. A voice — Stella’s — suggested that all the girls strip to the waist, and he leaned up against the wall and watched as each of the women removed her blouse and bra, tossing the clothes to the floor.
He walked over to Elaine Jordan. She was talking to her husband and her back was turned to Ralph. He reached around her from the back and his hands closed over her huge breasts. Her breasts were very firm and the nipples were hard and warm. He moved closer to her and the perfume wafted from her soft brown hair to his nostrils. The marijuana, which made every sense stronger and more acute, made his sense of smell so sharp that her perfume tickled his nose.
Calmly, almost absently; he began to manipulate her breasts with his hands. She went on talking very intently to David, her husband, hardly even noticing what Ralph was doing, and he buried his face in her soft hair and went on caressing her breasts.
Stella slipped her arm around Luke Swinnerton’s waist and let her breasts push against his chest. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You didn’t seem to be getting any charge from the pot?”
“It’s no kick for me anymore.”
“How come?”
He shrugged.
“Tell me.”
Silently he rolled up the sleeve of his left arm and showed her the arm. It was dotted with needle marks all the way up and down the main vein. Her eyes widened.
“Horse,” he explained. “Heroin.”
“How long?”
“A month, maybe two.”
“Are you hooked?”
“Through the bag and back again.”
“That’s too bad. What does Betty think?”
Luke shrugged again. “She’s hooked, too.”
“You mean you got her started?”
Luke smiled sadly. “Betty’s a good little chick. She figured if I was going to have a habit she wanted to keep me company. She’s a good chick, you know?”
Maria took David Jordan by the hand and led him away from his wife. Elaine was still standing in the same position but now her eyes were closed. Ralph continued to stroke her breasts.
Maria said: “You want to make it with me?”
David’s eyes travelled the length of her body. They took in the long black hair, the big brown eyes, the soft little breasts and the strong, golden thighs.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s a scene.”
“Greek?”
“What do you mean?”
“Greek style,” she explained. “That’s how I feel like making it.”
He shook his head.
“Aw, why not?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Come on.” She took him by the hand again and tried to pull him toward the bedroom in the back. He resisted her.
“Why not?” she demanded.
“It’s just not my scene. I’ll make it French, if you want. I dig it that way.”
“Larry and I did it like that this afternoon. I want to do it Greek style.”
“Later,” he said, freeing himself and dismissing her. “It’s just not my scene.”
Roger Brann caught Jimmy Henderson by the arm. Roger’s hair had fallen over into his eyes and his lips were very pale.
“You seen Sally?” he demanded.
“She disappeared into the bedroom with Larry Colestock a minute or two ago.”
“Little bitch.”
“Hell, you don’t expect her to stick with you all the time, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s bugging you?”
“I don’t know. She coulda told me.” Jimmy laughed.
“Say,” Roger said. “You know, sometimes I get pretty fed up with women.”
Jimmy looked at him.
“You know what I mean?”
“I think so.”
“Well? Are you interested?”
Jimmy thought for a moment. “What the hell,” he said finally. “It’ll be something new.”
“You never done it before?”
Jimmy shook his head.
“Then c’mon. Maybe you’ll dig it.”
“Where’ll we go?”
“Bedroom.”
“Can’t,” Jimmy said. “Larry and Sally are in there. I just told you.”
“Where, then?”
“I think the bathroom’s empty.”
Roger smiled. “So what are we waiting for?”
Sally took off her dress. She dropped it on the floor. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.
“Hurry up,” Larry said. “I can’t wait much longer.” She joined him on the bed. He pulled her to him and kissed her, his tongue slipping between her lips. She let out a little moan and put her arms around his neck.
“God,” she said. She buried her face in his neck. “Oh Jesus God.”
“What’s the matter?”
“I just wish I could make it,” she said. “That’s all. That’s all I want.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just wish I could make it. I like it but it never happens for me.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“That’s a bitch,” he said. “Hell, you still got time though. How old are you, anyway?”
“Almost sixteen.”
“That all?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you got plenty of time. Lots of chicks, they’re twenty-five before they get banged for the first time. You got no worries.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He ran his hand down her back. She was plump, and he liked the feeling of plenty of soft feminine flesh under his hand.
“Hey,” he said. “I got an idea.”
“What?”
“You ever try it with you on top?”