A Magnanimous Trip

CW: substance use

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Three forty-five; the clock ticked away as Martin placed three tabs of LSD on his tongue. The smaller-than-a-finger-tip paper tabs were unique, as they were triangle shaped and portrayed Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” before being broken apart. Martin was at what seemed to be the peak of his spring break. He slumped deep within the brown loveseat in Ray’s basement, which swallowed it’s occupant up, even without psychotropic interference. This couch faced a door that led up several stairs to the grass of Ray’s backyard. To Martin’s left was a small TV playing The Simpsons, and directly facing the larger couch. Ray was sprawled out on the couch, which was a slightly different shade of brown than the loveseat. The walls were covered in video game posters. The carpets were permeated with the smell of marijuana smoke. 

“Today’s your last day?” Ray questioned, never breaking eye contact with Homer. Ray's three tabs had been on his tongue for a minute before Martin tasted his own. Martin nodded, sending his unruly black hair over his eye. He brushed the hair on top of his head and locked it in place with a black baseball cap.

“So how’s it been? We all miss you at Wendy’s”

“Eh, to be honest, not so great. Dinner with mom and Sarah was nice. I swear that kid has grown at least an inch, despite what Mom says. My Dad was working late, though,” he said the last sentence a touch quieter. 

“How late do pharmacists even work?”

“That’s what I said. I don’t know, but he already left for work when I woke up the next morning. To be honest, it kinda seems like he’s avoiding me”

“Why the hell would he be avoiding you?”

“Well, you know, he doesn’t really support my choice of major and all,” Martin said. 

“Forget him. You’re gonna be the world’s greatest philosopher one day,” 

“Thanks”

The two relaxed as an episode and a half played on the television. They were tuned in until a commercial break. Martin looked down at his phone. He was delighted by the thought that the acid was making its way up to his brain. Martin and Ray intended on walking through town to properly enjoy their trip. While some frozen pizza brand advertised to Fox’s midday audience, Ray, as he tended to do, started up the conversation again as if it hadn’t ended quite some time ago. 

“Well, at least dinner with your mom was nice”

It was then that Martin was struck by something, and it wasn’t the acid he’d dropped. It was the disconcerting realization that he’d forgotten something. Martin straightened up and grabbed his bag. His movement was so abrupt that it caught Ray’s attention. Ray watched quietly as Martin rifled through his belongings, his hand resurfacing with a brown book. 

“That a gift for me?” Ray joked. Martin was stone-faced. 

“No it’s from the library. My mom asked me to return it before I came here,”

“Wait, your mom knows we’re tripping?”

“No, moron, she thinks we’re playing basketball. I can’t believe I forgot”

“Calm down, dude. You’ll bring it back tomorrow,” Ray said, then looked down at his phone as if the matter was resolved.

“My flight is at seven in the morning,” Martin paused. The two held eye contact as Martin rapidly tapped his foot. “What time does the library close?”

“I dunno, five?”

“Okay. We’ll take your car. C’mon, we have to go now”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Marty, it's fine. Leave the book here, I’ll return it,”

“Today’s the last day, it’ll be overdue tomorrow!” 

“Okay, and...? I’ll pay the five cents for you, call it an early birthday gift,” Ray said. Ray was calm, trying to be a voice of reassurance for his friend. 

“Ray, I don’t wanna have a bad trip,” Martin said before the two stayed quiet for a moment. 

“Okay, stop. Marty, look at me. How many times have we tripped before? I don’t know why you’re choosing to panic now of all times, but everything is fine. You’re gonna leave the book here, and I’ll return it first thing tomorrow. Your mom will never know. You just forget about it, okay?”

His point was well communicated, and perhaps a Martin who hadn’t taken three tabs of LSD would have been susceptible to his reasoning. The fact was, however, that Martin had taken three tabs. He thought back to the wisdom of an LSD user from the high school bowling team, about four years older than himself. He told Martin that it was imperative, when high on acid, to meet your problems head on. If not, a bad trip could ensue. Martin felt a twitch of panic. While this wasn’t the traditional “Oh my God! What if I’m stuck tripping forever?” sort of problem, it was one that required solving. He feared that if he shied away from this task the results could be terrifying. Martin recalled a party from sophomore year. 

“I saw George’s friend Kirsten have a bad trip once. It was right in his backyard,” Martin said, his eyes unblinking and fixated on the coffee table. Ray was quiet.

In their silence, they both realized it was too late. Ray wanted the talk of bad trips to be over with before his own acid began to take effect. They reckoned with their situation. In Martin’s mind, the seed was planted. The unspoken truth between the boys was that, at the end of the day, Martin’s mind would be the epicenter of any negative reaction he had to the drug. It was also apparent that a bad trip for Martin would have no positive impact on Ray. These truths hung overhead like gray storm clouds.

Ray was sitting up, hands folded in his lap. He took about thirty seconds to formulate a response, knowing they were opposed by the ticking clock. After contemplating, he stood. 

“Come on”

Ray sped along Brookshaw Avenue, past the brick high school only one of them graduated from. Martin was buckled in on the passenger side, nervously tapping the cover of his mom’s book. Although Martin waited as long as possible before turning on to the main road, the traffic was murder. Worse yet, the familiar signs of an acid trip were becoming apparent to Ray, whose speedometer was considerably brighter than usual. A golden sunbeam reflected off the stickers on his dashboard. Ray felt a pang of frustration with Marty, knowing they should have been easing into the “life is so beautiful” phase of their high. They closed in on the entrance to the library.

“Okay Martin, listen close. You tongued those tabs about an hour ago,” Ray said, grabbing Martin’s shoulder. “We are going to pull into that parking lot, you’re gonna hand in your book, we’ll leave the car here, and we’re gonna walk around town and through the woods. Its gonna be a magnanimous trip okay?” he said, using the term ‘magnanimous’ incorrectly. Ray had a way of inspiring confidence in Martin, who then nodded. Having made it safely to the library, he was quite relieved. Martin’s slightly high self felt lucky for having a friend who would have his back on a mission like this. 

As they pulled in, the once urgent mission became a trivial chore preceding what was sure to be a brilliantly profound evening. Martin felt so confident, he didn’t mind seeing the scaffolding that obstructed the outdoor book deposit boxes, or the sign that read “Pardon our appearance”. Ray turned into a spot and put the Nissan in park. 

“Oh right, they’re adding a second level. You’re gonna have to go in”

“You aren’t coming?”

“Just go Marty, you’ll be in and out”

“Okay, okay. Is the front desk somewhere else because of the construction?”

“I don’t go to the library Marty! C’mon you gotta go now!” 

He exited the car and found himself in the busy lot. While parking wasn’t tough to find, the place was far from empty. An overweight woman with golden hair pushed a stroller out of the building. From what Martin could see behind her, the lobby and front desk were unaffected by the construction. Looking at the asphalt, there was a brilliant contrast between the black and the painted white lines of the parking spaces. The lines were somehow shining like strips of LEDs. Martin glanced around, and found the trees beside the building shimmering similarly. One of the trees began to vibrate. This however, did not bother his tree friends. In fact, the surrounding trees leaned back, their branches like arms giving great tree shrugs, as if to say “he does this all the time”. It was then that Martin began to suspect he was considerably higher than when he was in the car. A bird flew within Martin’s view and captured his attention, perching up on the scaffolding in front of the glass library doors. The bird, though far away, was clearly staring at Martin. In fact, the two became locked in a hypnotic gaze, each of them the sole focus of the other. The bird had furrowed eyebrows, like it was disappointed. Though limited by its lack of language, the bird was undoubtedly trying to communicate to Martin that he was incompetent. That is a mean bird, he thought.

BANG! The noise sounded as Ray smacked the window of his 2004 Sentra. Martin met Ray’s eyes, who gestured toward the library, reminding him that they had a trip to go on.

Ignoring the lines, trees, and bird, Martin strolled toward the door in a manner he hoped was inconspicuous. He made it twenty feet from Ray when a familiar SUV pulled into the lot. The letters of the license plate stared at him as Martin’s stomach dropped. The tail lights (considerably brighter than a sober person might have seen them) dimmed as the car shut off. A familiar man in a familiar sweatshirt got out of the car, shut the door, and locked it. It was Martin’s father. 

Martin ducked behind a red Volvo. Suddenly, this was a mission again, chore no more. The panic started in his gut and spread onward through him. He glanced down at the clock on his phone and recalled once again that there was no waiting this out. Not only were they closing the library soon, but Martin knew he’d only get higher. What was his dad doing in there anyway? The phone began to vibrate, so he looked down. Ray. He answered the phone silently, looking back at Ray.

“Dude, is that your dad?” Ray asked, eliminating the slim chance of Martin being wrong. Martin nodded, too shocked to speak. 

“Okay, Marty listen to me. Look at me. You see me?” Martin nodded again.

“Okay. You have to go in there. We are getting this done, remember? You have a mission, Marty. If you go in now, your dad is just gonna be browsing through books. You won’t even come near him. In and out,” he said, determined to get his friend through it. It was unclear whether his next words were motivated by caring or laziness. “Marty, I know what you’re thinking. I can’t go in there for you. It has to be you. Do what we came here to do, and let’s get out of here and do high-people things”

Shaken as he was, Martin knew Ray was right. If he tapped out now, a bad trip would surely follow. At this point his father had just entered the building. 

“Go Marty! You’ve tripped before, I know you can do this!” Ray was the brave commander, and Martin his loyal soldier. Martin considered his words. I have done this, he thought. Martin was no stranger to LSD. And so, he summoned the courage to charge forward. 

Before entering the library, Martin surveyed the interior. He spotted his father headed toward the computer area, and pushed the door open. Martin wondered why his dad went that way. After all, he had a computer of his own. As Martin entered the lobby, it appeared his father made the same realization, turning on his heels directly toward his son. Without hesitation, Martin ducked between two tall bookcases. The mystery section. He gazed down at the jacket he’d borrowed from Ray, thanking his lucky stars that he wasn’t wearing something his dad would recognize. 

Peering over some books on the shelf, Martin saw his father looking behind the front desk, as if searching for a librarian. To his relief, Martin was undetected. To his dismay, it appeared that nobody was behind the desk, causing his father to head toward him. Martin tip-toed shadily toward the end of the aisle, which let out in front of the restrooms. He looked back to see if his father was behind him, but all Martin saw was a tall gentleman with curly hair perusing the mystery section he just exited. Strangely, the lights in the ceiling had rainbows around them, the kind you see when you open your eyes in the pool for too long. Martin stepped into the men’s room, knowing his father could be anywhere now.  

As he locked the door, it became obvious that whoever was in the restroom previously was using it to bake cookies. Chocolate chip by the smell of it. Martin remembered that acid sometimes makes you smell things, although not quite as much as it makes you see things. He leaned against the wall and tried to channel his inner Ray, inspiring enough confidence in himself to push onward. He made sure not to look in the mirror.  

As he stepped out, he gazed around outside before fully opening the door, the way you might see in a cartoon. As it happened, the world was becoming more and more like a cartoon to Martin. Despite the rarity it was for him to smell imaginary things on acid, he was hit with the scent of a summer barbecue when he left the men’s room. Wondering if someone had truly wheeled a grill into the library and thrown on some hot dogs, Martin walked to the right of the mystery section, never leaving himself visible to all directions. He was alert and constantly scanning for his dad. 

The area adjacent to the mystery section was a lovely sitting area, with two orange leather chairs and a round table. Martin looked to the front desk, now operated by an older woman with black hair and a pearl necklace. There were two people in line, and one speaking to the librarian. Martin pondered the idea of his dad having left already, and found some security in it. Nevertheless he pulled his hood over his baseball cap. Going incognito, he thought. As he approached the front desk, he couldn’t help but notice a dazzling red book fall off the shelf and start melting into a pool like a scarlet crayon, just ten feet from where he stood. I’m tripping, I’m just tripping, he told himself. Martin held on to his composure with white knuckles as the LSD rollercoaster inched closer and closer to the steep drop he knew was coming. A blue and green book fell and melted in the same manner. Eventually, the three pools met and swirled around each other, forming one new color that Martin would never be able to explain to a sober version of himself.

He headed toward the front desk. At the back of the line, Martin found himself staring at the ceiling. It was then that he realized that the normal black dots in the typical white ceiling panels of schools and libraries were just ants, and they only revealed themselves if you paid close attention. He watched them march before realizing his face was a bit too visible. He looked at his shoes. The carpet below him formed a strange geometry, and the shapes began rotating, then contorting around his size eleven Nikes. Perhaps I’d better look forward, his internal monologue sounded. As he gazed ahead, his eyes met the back of another library patron. Recognizing the jacket, Martin realized he was standing behind his father. His father, slightly shorter than himself, pulled out his cell phone and, perhaps inconsiderately, made a call. 

Martin was frozen solid when, to his shock, his own cell phone began vibrating. Martin’s right hand shot down to his pants, where he clenched the phone tightly in order to suppress it’s sound. Still undetected. He held on until the call ended, his father bowing his head in disappointment. His father did not hang up. After the length of a voicemail message, he began to speak. 

“Hey Marty, I was hoping to talk for a minute. I’m sorry about dinner last night, you know how work can be. Listen, I know Mom’s supposed to take you to the airport but, would it be okay if I drive you? We can grab something to eat beforehand, if you’re up early enough. Anyways, uh, just let me know. Love ya,” He said, then flipped his phone shut. 

It was his dad’s turn in line.

“Hi, I had you guys order a book for me”

“What book was it?”

“It’s called Philosophy: Simply Explained”

The librarian directed him to the kids’ section, where her manager would have an answer for him. Martin watched him walk away. 

“Can I help you?” 

After leaving the library, Martin found Ray leaning against his car, ready to leave.

“C’mon, lets go,” he said, suggesting they ought to run. As Ray reached in the car for his wallet, Martin spotted the mean bird, who gave him a nod and then took off toward the fluorescent sky. 

After getting a safe distance away, the boys walked calmly and caught their breath. 

“You know, you’re a good friend Ray. And, maybe it's the acid talking, but I think we’re gonna have a magnanimous trip”