The Freak-out

Today was the freak-out. I ate my head and asked for seconds, it was so delicious how the flavor of intellect lingered on my tongue. My friend found a parade on his kitchen floor, there were balloons a thousand feet tall and a marching band from Michigan playing a Yankee Doodle dandy. There were the Shriners in there little cars, a fire-truck with spotted Dalmatian and all, with a beauty queen bringing up the rear, they all died in a flood when my friend spilt his beer. All and all I think everyone got a little something from the freak-out though I don’t know how much they liked it, but I had a blast. I tell you, I hope they do it again.
I woke up on Saturday with a stark raving lunatic at my door, it was Burt—that nutcase, neighbor for two plus years, a record for my block. Oh yeah, forgot to mention I am A. Fig Newton, the “A” stands for Alabaster and the block I live in is quite mechanical, and to tell some of the secrets I know I believe there is a robot family due east ten doors down the hall.
So, Burt comes to my metal door and with a clank of his fist sounds the alarm for me to wake about twenty –three minutes before my clock was to do the same. “Open up you old freak, you jelly bean! Open! Open open! Open! Open open open, …OPEN!!! Come on lassie I got me something to show-show, ho, a ho, a ho ho ho a ho ho! You will like, a guarantee on that my lazy lummox. Now do be a dear and retract this barrier from your causeway…” he would have kept going into the night had I not opened the door for him, that nutcase. “There doing a freak-out today, isn’t that great!?”
“What is a freak-out?” I asked.
“I don’t now but it sounds like a blast, I’m going, aren’t you? Everyone’s going to be there, I’m sure, a freak-out I mean, who wouldn’t?”
“What is a freak-out?” I asked again.
“Ah shit! Gimme a break! Just read this Mr. Travec.”
He handed me a flier that looked, as lemans may say ‘awesome.’ I was dazzled by the swirling kaleidoscope of texture infused upon the background of this psycadellically founded mind maze. I could see a drummer drumming on out into the air and penguin’s swimming about a luminescent border of lascivious green, while kites of fantastic giants of long gone myth swayed in the air above a picnic of furry hares and varmints enjoying crumpets, to say the least I was mystified. “Looks like a good-trip who is putting it on?” I asked.
“The Psychosupro Cool Corp. Some grand entrepreneur has taken it upon himself, to commit his life to guys like us, to ensure that we, can freak the fuck out-man it’s going to be so fuckin cool man you better be in man you and me man.”
“And what exactly is done at a freak out?” I asked—with curiosity.
“Oh man, oh man! I don’t know man but I’m pretty sure, don’t quote me, but I believe they are going to blow our minds man, isn’t that great! Look here on the ad, ‘A goodtime is to be had by all, see you on the other side.’ If that isn’t an invitation to a stoner picnic I don’t know what is man.”
“Is it legal?”
“I don’t know, and since when did you start to care? And plus if there putting up all these goomie posters every where my guess is that many fellow goomers are going to be attracted, and they can’t arrest all of us!”
“True, you want to get stoned before we head off?” I inquired.
“Most defiantly.” He affirmed.
My car is large, boat-like would describe it adequately, a blue behemoth of the eighties; a car I am quite fond of. This vehicle was to carry us to 411 Bluetooth Boulevard, were the freak-out was to commence. We had to walk up a block to the storefront because there was no parking around and when we arrived a line was found to extend far along the sidewalk, so we waited. Freaks of all types could be found in this queue, from the gritty and gruesome to the down right loopy, indeed it was a linear formation of freaks alike. One had a beard that nearly enveloped his body, another with piercings jutting out of every fold of her face, one with dogs, another with spots, all with sunglasses and strange hats. We looked the same alike with our retro clothing, retro in that Burt and I wore particularly old clothes that we had made old ourselves, I happened to wearing my old gym clothes from high-school and Burt was in fashion to embarrassing to mention. Seeing the freaks surrounding me, I felt secure and a little exited about this event Burt had stumbled upon, the anticipation was killing me.
“What’s it gonna be?” Burt asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Is it gonna be good, is it gonna be crazy, what do you think?”
“I dunno.”
“Come on, com’on! I’m asking, I’m just asking! I’m a just a wonderen what ya make of it.” That’s when the bulbous Star Trek fanatic to our front overheard Burt’s inquisition and crept into the conversation,
“You guys don’t know what is happening here? Didn’t you go to the website, it’s on the flyer there?” referring to the one in my hand.
“Uh, no.” I said.
“Well, it’s big news man, I hear there putting out some turbograde, a lot better than the suprograde which is the original formulation, and the fact it’s being held in the middle of the city, it’s going to be a trip.” He explained to us.
Confusedly I asked, “Has there been other freak-outs?”
“Oh wow, you guys are real newbies to the freak-out scene, this is going to blow your mind. Yeah, I was at the first one, it was way out in the boons in the mountains, a lot of people freaked out and got lost in the woods, and that wasn’t turbograde, it’s supposed to be a whole nother animal.”
“What do we do, man! What do we do when we get to the end of the line?” Burt blurted with child-like excitement.
“Oh yeah, they give us some heavy drugs and send us on our way, it’s given in vials that self-destruct in two-hours so you got to get were your goin’ quick, because you ain't goin’ anywhere once you start to freak.” The beauty of what he said.
“Oh oh oh oh, oooh. No. Really? Oh yeah, yeah! That’s great!” Burt almost buckled over into a seizure.
“Really? They give us drugs? What’s the hold up?” I asked.
“Paperwork man, you got a stack to finish before they’ll sell it to you, liability and stuff like that.”
“Is it worth the paperwork and the price?”
“Oh yeah, expensive but the suprograde sent me screamin’, and this turbograde, well, you know.” With that we began to shuffle through the line like excited children waiting to ride a thrill of the drug-induced kind.
We finally made it to the store after a long wait and steadily drifted inside. What we entered was a waiting room. We had to wait some more as we drudge through the red velvet ropes that held us contained single file. The whole scene reminded me of a bank, for at the end of the red velvet ropes were several teller windows, encased in bars and glass with only a little chute on the counter in which to exchange currency and product, which many people were doing. It was the longest time I had remembered standing up in recent memory, but at last Burt and I made it to a window of which behind a squat oriental lady sat.
“How much, how much!” Burt enthusiastically demanded.
“Fifty dollars, one dose per person, one-hundred for both of you.” She answered.
Burt pulled a bill out of his wallet and slid it under. “Well what’s the hold-up? Here’s a hundred piece, now gimme some turbograde!”
“Your total comes to one-hundred and seventy-eight dollars and ninety three cents.”
“What! What! You said one hundred, I heard you, I heard you say one hundred dollars for both of us, what is this shenanigan!” He seemed quite agitated, more than his usual state of continual agitation.
“That was the price before tax.”
“That’s one hell of a tax.” I put forth.
“We are under a special taxation bracket, I can’t do anything about it.”
“But we waited, we waited for so long, didn’t we Fig? And now this, this governmental preponderance has stop me, it cannot be, it cannot.” Despair could entirely explain Burt’s efforts; I could not let him suffer.
“I got the rest Burt, we are going to freak-out.” And he almost did so right there and then. I thought it to be a worthwhile purchase because of the sheer number of people there paying the same price for the same thing, and I hardly could imagine the spherical Trekie in line possessing more wealth than I. So, I paid the price, but not after filling out a stack of liability forms of every kind, being the most I had ever written in recent memory.
The stuff was given-out in little computerized vials, with little circuits and this and that all about it, I guess it was part of the self-destruct mechanism but I’m no scientist. Burt and I decided the best place to trip would be at the park; plenty open space and few people to be bothered by what may happen to us. I parked my car and in it we consumed the contents of the vial, which immediately there after, we left my vehicle to take a stroll around the park to wait for the effects to come in to play. We did not have to wait long.
“My crooked spine! It is so crooked and, and fuzzy, look at me I’m a damn hunchback, and I’m s-slipping tooo…” Burt’s words became unintelligible jargon of irritating sound as the symphony of nature surrounded me and blended into a single tone that penetrated my skull and vibrated my brain. Euphoria could defiantly describe the feeling from my shoulders down to my feet, while all that resting neck up was completely disconnected, eyes receding into my gray matter, words spoken in alien tongue, and smells of untold sources seeping into the blitzed mass of my brain, of which was a mess of irrationality—totally and completely. I had forgotten about Burt standing next to me yet his words had lingered in my mind, and when I turned to look at him I looked at a small decrepit Burt hunched and exuberated, the little man spoke, “Follow me! Follow me little bean, we are to wonder to those tree’s you see over there and who know, maybe we will find something there.”
“But what if somebody else had already found it, and then we will have walked for nothing.”
The little man spoke, “We are nothing, you and I, and over there everything that is to be found is for nothing. Just follow me jelly bean, you have a tendency for being wrong, while I shall never lead you astray from this way, ha ha!” With that the little hunchback took my hand and we frolicked over to the arboretum, into a ghastly sphere of green leaves and brown branches. Upon entering the cool shade my senses were given new life, I could feel my eyes dilate bigger and bigger in the dark mist of the trees as a fantasyland began to sprout before my eyes. Flowers of golden hue with ambrosial vines burst from the ground up far above my head into the dark teal of the leaves above setting them ablaze with radiance. The grass patch were I had stood with tree’s above had filled in completely with shrub, brush, grass, and leaves, vines, and flowers, contained by the standing massive trees. The beauty around me was too much to see, my eyes began to water and tears dribbled down off my chin and formed a sea, a place I had been before with marine air filling the sails of ships cruising the horizon. Everything I had seen there had became everything I loved, it pulled me in and left me breathless. That’s when I noticed Burt was gone, and not just him but the whole park, as the foliage had taken over the grassy fields and it continued to grow and became more and more until it had almost surrounded everything and slowly began closing in on me. The beautiful leaves wee too much to be seen and I feared that nature just might at that time and place swallow me up and consummate me to the dirt. So, I ran through the corridors of life, as vines and shrub manifested all about. There was no way out I could see, it was a maze of green, I just ran were plants were not hoping to find open spaces in front of me. Somewhere between the tennis courts that were over grown and the small creek beside, among the many plants and trees I found a little nook were a little old lady sat at a table looking in a book and doing so quite happily. She saw me as soon as I saw her and what a kind grandmotherly face she had, with dignified lines and sullen blue eyes.
“Hello there Fig, are you enjoying the trees and leaves, or how about that freak-out, is it worth what you paid? Come here, sit here and talk with me, I always enjoy the companionship of good company.” So I walked to her side, sat on the grass next to her chair and look up and stared.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
“Oh, just some old memories of times gone by, would you care to see?” With that she handed an old photo album containing many pictures to me. I found among them a lady in a long skirt holding sax, the picture was black and white, she was among ensemble of musicians her being in the spotlight.
“What is this?” I asked of her.
“Oh, that was myself when I was young, playing the jazz back when jazz was the scene. Oh yes, how the big band set us to swing, playing that rhythm and blues down in New Orleans. I’ll never forget the swingin voodoo magic the place had.”
“And what of this?” Holding a picture of a small man sprinting at speed on a horse.
“That is my cousin Bob, and what a jockey he was, this is a picture of him crossing the winning line in the illustrious Kentucky Derby. My husband and I place one hundred for him to win, the pay-off was one to ten and netted us a grand! What a place to be, what a sight to see.”
A man in uniform was in view next, “what of this solider, who was he.”
“My son is who that would be and what a fine man he is. He went and fought in a forsaken war, dodged bullets and mortars, flying explosive and suicide cars. He live through it and with a story told, came back to his wife and kids and is living to be quite old. I was just glad he made it through having given him two decades of tender care and a life-time of support.”
Many pictures I viewed and she told me of what they were, I could not remember all she said having this stringently intoxicating substance flowing around in my head. As I looked and listen the wall to my left faded away, crumbled to pieces and all the wild vegetation began to recede. There behind it all a wild man stood, twisted, decrepit, a creature in fixation possessing a sort of demented demure. As soon as I caught site of it the kind lady did too, her kind blue eyes stared at him like a deer in distress, and a pale flat hue spread across her face. I looked away and she was gone but the engrossed creature that was Burt remained where he was on an open lawn in light of the sun. I walked up to him and the closer I got the more the vibration pulsing through my head began to fragment my vision, everything hummed and lacked definite contrast, the outlines of objects scribbled and fine details distorted and out of shape. I approached him and all I could see was a man out of place opened up and disassembled, wearing a red shirt that matched the color of his head glowing luminescent and crimson. Memory had not gone away from me and I could remember what the words on the shirt had said, “Slippery Dicks’ Halfway Inn.” Below two polar bears copulating in front of an igloo. What an idiot he appeared to be as I stared at him and looked how pathetic he seemed, all broken up and “tripping,” what a nutcase, how insane.
“What are you looking at?! Can you not see that your you and I am me!” He shouted and it thundered loud creating an earthquake in my head, shaking the world and leaving me near brain-dead.
“W…What, …what, stop!” I mumbled
“Oh, don’t play with me boy, take a step back and watch your self and look around, there is more here than there is to be seen, and sometimes it can get real mean.” I fell to my knees and held the ground to try and keep it still as all around the trees, the birds, the cars, the people were all descending upon me, contorting my reason and pressing my perception to a fanatical degree. I was locked up frozen unable to be, I fell backwards and what did I see? The great blue sky as blue as can be, not a cloud in the sky that could be seen as though a great azule dome had been placed over me. Nothing was blurred as I could now see a great span opaque and neutral, surrounding where my vision spanned, comforting me and leaving a resonating calm throughout the land. There I stayed until Burt walked over and said to me, “Fig you think we can leave? I’m so tired of talking to these trees, there such a fucking bore. Change! A Change we are in dire need of. Lets take flight.
Lets leave this place. Come on, your good to drive I can see it, or hell you can let me if you want. But now is time for action. Now is the time to leave!”
“Okay.” I stood up and all was calm, placid and tranquil. I had no problems moving off the ground and across the park, my head was focused as Burt led me on. We had trouble finding my car for we had wander quite a ways away, but finally were came upon my blue Chevrolet, a beast of a car, a monstrous mechanical sleigh that was to carry us somewhere. The drug had not gone away and in fact was in full affect but this did not prevent me from starting the car and driving dazed and confusedly, you could say my judgment was absent. Burt sat to my right and had a ridiculous grin on his face as though he was enjoying something to an immense degree.
“What is it that bring such pleasure to your face my friend.” I asked of him
“The wind! How crisp, how cool, how clear! And how it moves and how everything moves! Here one moment then gone, a constant fresh breeze is in front of my face.”
“This is why you wanted to drive.”
“No not at all, but what a wonderful side effect off going to a place we don’t know that we’re going to yet.”
“Were are we going anyway?” I asked
“Just drive my man and let this brutish vehicle lead us to where it may, enjoy the air and look around, everything is liquid and flows all around us.” I leaned back in my seat and sunk right in. I was not driving, the car just moved and the cool breeze that delighted Burt entranced me in a mellow haze, all around me things were streaming, leaving behind long colorful shadows as though everything had comets tails, creating a tunnel of emulsified color that I leisurely rolled through. Nothing could describe the serene feeling I had as we cruised about, and it made me think of Burt a bit wiser, how he knew how the exploit joy for all it worth in this world of ours. I could have stayed there forever rolling along city streets, it just didn’t matter to me, or to Burt either I supposed as were drove on for what seemed like hours, so languidly dazzled. Then all the sudden my car stopped, essentially in the middle of the street but not being a busy street I left it be, and just like that our magic carpet ride had ended underneath a “tow-away” parking sign. I determined the reason my car ceased to move was an acute shortage of gasoline of which I was supposed fill up on, had I not spent all my money on this drug that was coursing through my veins.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“I don’t know, don’t look at me I wasn’t driving.”
“You wanted to drive. But you never said where, where did you want to go?” I asked
“I wanted to go the same place you wanted to go.”
“Where did I want to go?”
“Oh, oh so your telling me that we drove around all this time and ran your car out of gas because you didn’t know were to go in the first place.”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“You’re driving!”
“But, you wanted…”
“Lets not just sit here like idiots now lets take some action here.” Burt then proceeded to exit the vehicle and I shortly thereafter followed him. As I stepped off the asphalt up on to the sidewalk the burly moans of a humpback whale could be heard.
“Ooouaaahhhh! Aaaaahhh! Oooauooohhh! Wooooo!” I turned around and from the curb spotted a man of gigantic proportion speeding excessively down the street in a square black Mercedes Benz convertible. “Hey be careful now, your car is in the middle of the street! Aaahhh haaa ha wooo!” As he yelled this to us he flashed at us his hand with four fingers split to form a fat Vulcan “V.” “I think I know that guy.” Burt informed me.
I turned away from the street. We had stopped in front of a store, a fashion store, and I peered up and viewed the bright red sign that hung above, “The Something Cool Clothing Company.” Burt noticed me starring and started to do the same, we both sat there for a while not knowing what to make about this store in front of us. “Let’s go in.” and with that Burt entered the store. I stood there a moment not sure to follow, I mean the store was upscale and fancy the type I would never go in, or need to, I knew it was not a store for guys like me, or Burt for that matter. But, the allure soon suckered me through the doors, I had to see what the store held inside and so I followed Burt. By the time I had entered Burt had already fixated himself on some clothing upon the racks. What had caught his eye was a flat black suit, sharp and sleek, the kind of suit a wealthy sophisto would dawn to an opera. At that time a sales attendant came up to us to offer us assistance, a lovely lady with a wonderful plastic smile stuck on her face.
“Can I, uh, help you gentlemen?”
Burt turned with slant eyes and informed the woman. “Not in the least. I can dress myself thank you very kindly, I will not be in need of your services. Carry on now.” The lady stood for a moment opened her mouth slightly and then proceeded to turn around and let us continue. Burt rushed off to the dressing room to dawn his new apparel while I meandered over to the morning wear, were I found the most luxurious flannel robe, with a blue and red plaid design on the outside and warm fluffy fleece on the inside. I lynched it around my waist and headed off to the shoe section. Once arrived I soon found to my pleasure that the shoe section was furnished with padded chairs, rather that those stools and benches they have at retail stores, no indeed these were sitting chairs that asked you kick off you shoes and slip on a pair of woolen slippers, which I did promptly. All I needed was a solid wood pipe to puff leisurely some sophisticated tobacco and one happened to be in my hand, lit and ready for smoking. At that time Burt came out of the dressing room and trotted over to where I sat. The suit made him look, not classy but something close to it, “Look at me! Don’t I look swank? Tonight I walk the town and hit the clubs, I’m rolling!” He then started dancing very obnoxiously providing his own music, I think it was the tango, it succeeded in making a scene.
“Excuse me sir, could you go easy on the suits? There very expensive and we don’t want wrinkles in them.” The smiling lady walked over and asked.
“Do not tell me what to do or how to do it.” Burt answered.
“Sir do you, uh, intend on purchasing anything?”
“Nothing of the sorts, but don’t I look swank?” Burt sardonic speech was wearing down on the clerk.
“No, and if you are not going to purchase anything I will have to ask you to leave. So please place the suit back, it doesn’t fit you anyways.”
Burt twitched is head sideways suddenly then back, “How dare you try to tell me what I am doing and how to go about it! And the nerve to criticize my fashion sense! Out! Out of my sight unkind wretch!” Burt’s volume had risen to levels slightly above the threshold for what is considered pleasant and I think it startled the lady, as she stepped back and then hurried to her counter and picked up the phone. Burt ran off the other direction and I picked up a newspaper that had suddenly appeared beside my chair. I turned to the travel and leisure section and read about a lovely little town somewhere in Europe that was the feature of the article. It turns out the place has many beautiful forests around it rich in flora and fauna, a beautiful northern sunset, and it showed a place were travelers could view whales from the shore. It sounded like a lovely place I thought maybe I would travel there sometime, I don’t know when. I then turned to the television listings to find my favorite show’s start time and as I scanned the pages Burt trotted out in decadent apparel. He had put on a lavish red overcoat, which underneath he wore some sort of frilly blouse that puffed out on his chest, and around his neck a mink fur scarf, and a crown was seen upon his head.
“I am the King and I am master of everything.” He then turned to address the other people in the store. “Hail me for I am the King, I am not daunted by anything! In here I rule!” Once again his voice had reached unpleasant decibels and took an almost threatening tone, but no employee in the store moved to address him but instead stared at him, with such strange eyes. Burt then felt free to start a kingly parade around the store, I sat quite merrily watching the whole scene realizing how much fun and adventure I had had on this trip and how the king’s leadership had been so key. Then the cops came in.
“What’s the problem here?” A burly black cop asked as soon as he walked through the door. All of the employees, in unison, lifted their arms and pointed to the man marching to the sound of his own band. “All right buddy get the heck out of here, and take off those clothes, you understand?”
“I am the King, do not tell me what to do or how to do it.”
“You damn freak-out fruit, you’re lucky you doped up today, or else I would have got authoritarian on your ass! Now you get out or I’ll get you out.”
Burt had not a trace of yellow on his back, “You’ll do right to call me sir when you address me.”
“All right! Lets go buddy!” and with that the cop proceeded to stomp up to Burt and grab him by his frilly blouse. Now, Burt is no fighter, he has nothing to put out other than the words from his mouth, once you have broke those he folds like a waffle. So the cop began removing Burt’s clothes with force as Burt wriggled out of them with determination,
“Stop! Stop you can’t …can’t do that! Me! I am the King, the master of everything!”
“Your nothing!” And Burt was muscled out of the store kicking and screaming triumphantly. The employees the came up to me and told me I had to also leave, which I found rather unnecessary but I didn’t care to make a scene, that was Burt’s thing, but I did ash my pipe on their carpet. I came out and saw Burt freaking-out at the back of the cop who was walking away after exiling him from the store; I also saw my car being towed away. The man was just getting into his truck after having lifted my car and I caught him at the door.
“Please sir stop! Please don’t take my car I’ll move it! Just stop!” He looked at me with mechanical eyes and shut the door, the truck’s engine clanked then hummed and rolled away with my blue Chevrolet. Burt’s rage was then turned towards the fleeing tow-truck having seen it being towed also, and we stood there alone in the street.
“Those damn crooks! You good for nothin brutes… and thieves! How dare they… and then towing away! The nerve, the… we shouldn’t be here Fig were not wanted in these parts.”
“Yeah.” I just stood there.
“Well what are we goin to do Fig? Just don’t stand there.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well come on, we can’t just be here.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, this is our street! We just have to walk a few blocks that way and then were home.”
“Okay.”
“You alright Fig?”
“I think so.” We began walking back to our apartment block and it was a strait shot to it, as strait as could be. The sidewalk was a geometric path and my surrounding was marked with rigidity, everything defined, square, and streamline. The people who walk with us on the sidewalk walk in step and we are a locked configuration moving down the line. Everything is predictable and at the same time everything is known, for the first time that day I am not caught off guard, and a feel plugged in to my surroundings. We entered the dark stairwell to the building and headed up the cold corridors to our apartments. I think back on the day that has passed and only can remember it in brief absurdity, the things I’ve seen and thought flee from me in most part, there being so many things forgotten, so many things lost. I wonder of the things remembered, about what I had though, wondering what it meant, wondering why I would have such thoughts. I think I might have gained something from the trip today, by buying that hallucinogenic substitute for living made for deadbeats like me, but what I can’t really say. We reached our doors and bid each other a due, with a metal clank I entered through mine into my living room. The things I had seen and things I had done lingered on my tongue, and I couldn’t believe it had been legal—I couldn’t believe none of it was real. I then turned on the television and there I sat when I heard Burt yell through the wall,
“Fig! There’s a parade in my kitchen!”