'Come in. What's up?'

'The contact in Legion is drying out.'

'Uh-oh. What are we going to do?'

'I'd like to score some weight and I need an investor. You interested?'

'Um . . . about it.'

'I'd fly to Kuala Lumpur in Malaysia. I heard the smack's cheap there. Come back with a pound or so.'

'How much money would you need?'

'I could do it with five thousand.'

'Let me think about it. I'll let you know.'

Secretly I was thrilled. Here was the chance to be an investor. Big profit. No risk. Of course I would accept.

I told Jimmy the deal was on and retrieved five thousand Canadian dollars in cash from the manager of the bungalow lodge, with whom I'd deposited my funds.

Jimmy seemed in no hurry to get going, though. Two weeks later, he still hadn't left. Our smack supply ran low, and it became a chore scoring enough of it.

'I'm quitting today,' announced Monica one morning.

'What, again?'

'No, this time I'm really doing it. It's the perfect opportunity since there's so little available.'

'Maybe stop too,' I said. 'This way, when Jimmy comes back front Malaysia—if he ever leaves—I can make money on the deal instead of consuming the entire smack myself. Okay, but take the Coke Cure. I don't want to suffer.'

That afternoon I purchased enough coke to last a week. I finished my remaining dope stash and began the cure.

Large doses of coke made the first day merry. Of course at night I was too weird to sleep. That was okay too; I just deal more coke and went for a midnight dip in the ocean. By the third day, though, things became hairy. I was so wired. My nerves were a disaster from all the coke and no sleep. Every noise made me jump. Air molecules grew thick and moved around tauntingly. I hid in my room, being in no shape to socialize.

Monica gave in and indulged in a few bhongs with the sheriff.

I told myself: I'm going to get off this drug, even if Monica doesn't.

By the third night, I looked like a paranoid schizophrenic. When I'd first arrived in Bali, I'd bought a Balinese mask of the demon Rangda and had hung it from the ceiling fixture in my room. Its three-foot-long blonde hair hung halfway to the floor. The face of the mask had the most hideous features imaginable, and the Balinese waiters who brought room service would see it hanging there and marvel that I could five with it. It had never bothered me before. But now the damn thing swung around with every vagrant air current, and that horrible face turned to look at me no matter when: I went in the room. From Monica's bungalow came spooky Pink Floyd music.

It was more than I could stand.

Eeeek! I threw down the paperback behind which I'd been hiding, stood on a chair, and grabbed Rangda. I flung the homely thing face down in the closet. After securing the closet door, I went to Monica's room.

'Monica, please, please. I can't stand it. Please lower that music. I'm flipping out here. Please, please.'

She winked. 'Okey dokey.'

Jimmy finally left for Malaysia. His girlfriend, Flame, remained behind, and she too decided to quit the dope. By the time she felt uncomfortable, I was on my fifth day (it was taking longer and longer to get the sniff out of my system). I'd discovered that, by drinking titanic volumes of alcohol, my nerves weren't in such a sorry state from the coke, and I could even sleep. Flame came to my room, and we ordered two bottles of gin. To call the waiters at the lodge, slit-shaped gongs hung on every porch and were to banged forcefully. Elame and I banged and banged on ours all night, sending the Balinese waiter for repeated orders of ice and orange juice.

'Hello again.' Elame and I giggled at him hysterically. 'You're so pretty. What's your name?' We nearly fell off the porch in drunken laughter.

When the sky over the sea glowed with morning, Elame and I tottered to the bed and barely managed to hoist up our legs and arms.

'I wish Jimmy were here. I'm so horny,' she said.

'I have a vibrator.'

'Goody, a vibrator. Maybe that will help.'

I stumbled to the closet and fished under Rangda's hair before victoriously returning to the bed with the instrument.

'Ah,' shrieked Elame when I poked her in the ribs with it. 'That tickles.'

After a final burst of laughter, we fell asleep, heedless of the humming from the vibrator. By morning the batteries had led.

On the seventh day, I felt fine. I'd had a good night's sleep, and the withdrawal symptoms had vanished. I joined Monica on the beach.

'How are you this morning?' she asked me.

'Great. It's over. I'm clean. Wow, I actually did it. That was some heavy week. But it's over.' I lay down next to her and soaked up the splendid sunny morning.

By night time, I was stoned on smack again.

Oh, well. So maybe I didn't have to quit completely right now. I had set out to detox, and I'd accomplished that. I no longer needed dope—I just wanted it.

Whatever smack was available had become precious. One day Narayan stopped by to ask, 'Come with me to Denpasar?'

'No, I'm waiting for someone.'

'Who? Your new smack connection?'

'Did you see Monica on the beach when you drove in?' I said to change the subject.

'What's the matter—are you running low?' he asked sarcastically. 'What will you do when you run out?'

'I have enough. Don't worry about it.'

'I'm not the one who's worrying. What happens if Jimmy doesn't come back? What if he takes your money and goes somewhere for a vacation? Then what will you do?'

'Leave me alone. Go to Denpasar already.'

'Maybe you're out of dope now? Is that why you're so snappy?'

'Will you leave me alone?'

'Why don't I check. Where do you keep your stash? In here?'

He started opening drawers. I ran after him. 'Stop. Stop. Go away.'

'What? You prefer your heroin to me? Silly question. Of course you do. No contest, right?'

'Are you crazy? Stop this.'

'I'm not the one who's crazy.'

He found my remaining stash and declared, 'Look what I found!'

'Give me that.' I lunged after the precious packet, but he held it out of reach. 'Give that back.' I jumped in the air after it, but he grasped it tight and prevented me from squeezing open his fingers. 'NARAYAN! Give that back.'

'Look how angry she's getting. Look at you, you're a mad woman.'

'GIVE ME THAT!'

'What would you do if I flushed it down the toilet?' He went in the bathroom.

'DON’T YOU DARE.'

'Look, she's starting to panic.'