to.'

'Oh, sure.' I answered sarcastically. My heart still pounded from the sound of it and I didn't seem able to slow it down.

The argument went on and on. Apolon's roosters began their morning ka-rock-a-doo, and Neal carried on still, and I still hadn't been able to calm down. Neal sat too dose to me. He leaned even closer and questioned me. I was furious at Serge. Look at him sleeping so peacefully.

'Stop already. Enough,' I said, moving to the other side of the room. Neal followed. 'Leave me alone. I'm tired. I want to sleep.' I lay down and closed my eyes. Neal sat beside me. 'Shhhhh. I'm sleeping.'

He giggled. 'You're not asleep yet. I keep you company till you fall out. We didn't finish our talk.'

'This talk is going nowhere.' Again I moved, this time to a spot under the platform. In a minute Neal was at my side with the glass block. SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK, SQUEAK.

'Want a toot?' SQUEAK, SCRAPE, SCRAPE.

'No. I want to sleep.' But of course I took the line.

I lay back down. Neal's voice went on and on, and I gave up trying to sleep. 'I CAN’T STAND THIS ANYMORE! I WANT TO BE ALONE!'

I grabbed my family-sized aspirin bottle, which had been full of coke but was now almost empty, and went flying up the stairs. As I turned to slam shut the doors, I saw that Neal wasn't following me, but my apprehension didn't lessen. Frantically, I tried to connect the mismatched doors. They slammed against each other and swung open to crash against the wall. Neal giggled hollow. I kicked again, and again they bounced back and slammed against the wall. The crashing sound increased my panic. I threw my whole body against the doors. Finally they connected. I shook so much it was difficult to slide the bolt over. I ran to the bedroom to check the outside door. Like the windows that faced the sea, it was boarded up against the monsoon. A quilt of palm fronds was wired against the outside frame. If I pushed the door real hard, I could see a silver of lightening morning sky. I sat on the glass-covered mattress and snorted some of my stash. Sleep—that's what I needed. If only I could sleep. I lay on the bare mattress and tried to ignore the glass fragments biting my skin. It was hot up there. I couldn't sleep. I snorted more coke and prowled around. There was nothing up there. Nothing. I was bored. I CAN'T STAND IT! My head raced uncontrollably. When would Serge waltz up and rescue me? Too much energy. There's too much energy in my hock. My body won't he still. Pin so bored. GET ME OUT OF HERE. I want to sleep. If only I could find a few Mandrax stashed under the mattress. The only thing under the mattress was an empty Valium pack and a piece of hash. I turned the mattress upside down to see if anything was hid me beneath the carpet. An old fetter. I'm going crazy up here. I can't stay Acre. And I can go down—he's there. I've got to get out. I looked again at the weather-sealed door. Impossible to get out that way. I lay down and closed my eyes. I paced. Frantic, I slammed at the boarded door. The bottom I couldn’t budge, but the top pushed out two meters. I had to get out. I had to. I pulled over the carved statue I'd brought from Bali. Balancing on two toes, I tried to squeeze my head through the opening at the top of the door. Panic gave me strength. I stepped on the brass Krishna door handle and wiggled my upper body through the palm-frond protection. My head was out! Clutching my precious coke bottle, I managed to squeeze the rest of my bones out and climb on the roof. Wow, daylight! I wasn't accustomed to such brightness. It had stopped raining for the moment, but the clouds seemed only inches above. No time. I had to get away. I had to flee. I crawled over the roof and vaulted across to Apolon's roof. I hoped his family wouldn't investigate the noise I made. I hoped Neal couldn't hear it. The tiles slipped beneath my knees. I jumped down and ran. The wet sand sprung from my fleeting steps. Unfamiliar morning flitted past me, thick and soggy. I ran. Past the field. Past the buffalo. Past deserted porches. No one was behind me, so I stopped! The dark-green plains waved against the dark-blue sky. How beautiful. I gripped my treasure bottle dose and noticed my arm grimy grey streaks against the dirty dress. Oh, my. So filthy! Look at the stains on this dress! I ran. Past the Monkey chai shop. Past Saddhu George's. Up the steps.

BAM, BAM. I pounded on the door. BAM, BAM, BAM. 'Sasha! Sasha! Let me in!' BAM, BAM, BAM. 'SASHA!' I hoped my friend was still there. Weeks before. Serge had mentioned that Sasha was still in Goa, trying to leave the monsoon. 'SASHA!' BAM, BAM, BAM.

'Who is it?' a sleepy voice with an Austrian accent said at last.

'Sasha? Help, Let me in.'

When he opened the door, I fell past him into the unilluminated room and groped to hide somewhere. My hand took hold of a piece of material, and I pulled whatever-it-was over my head. 'Oh, thank you. Quick, lock the door! I'm flipping out here.'

'I can see that.'

He closet' the door and swung open the wooden shutters to let in the morning light. 'What time is it?'

'Early. I'm sorry I woke you. It was an emergency.'

The thing thrown over my head turned out to be a shirt, and I moved aside a hanging sleeve to peer out cautiously. Keeping one eye hidden, I held the sleeve under my chin. Sasha made no comment about my camouflage—he'd probably done the same thing in his own bouts of Coke at neck. He sat beside me on the mattress and turned to his smoking paraphernalia, which lay near the bed. I waited patiently until he had had a few bhongs. A person had to get his morning dope before he could think of anything else.

'Want a bhong?' he asked eventually, placing the bamboo pipe in front of me. As he held the match to the white powder, I closed my eyes and let the soothing drug fill my lungs.

Social amenities over, I explained, 'You’re saving my life. I was flipping out.'

'Feel better? Here, have another bhong.'

'Thanks.' I did feel a mite better—safe enough to remove the shirt from my head. 'I need sleep. I’d be fine if I could just sleep a little. Do you have any mandies? I have coke. I trade you some of this bottle for a few mandies.'

Sasha's eyes popped when he saw the bottle. Everybody had smack Coke was a luxury. Especially this time of the year, when most of last season's money had long since been spent. He jumped up.

'I should have a few somewhere.' He tore through piles of junk Oil the window ledge. Papers flew to the floor. A basket of jewellery overturned. 'Here's a couple of Valium and one manthe. Wait, I'll find more.' He searched under the woven palm mat but found nothing. 'Well, start with these at least,' said Sasha 'Maybe something else will turn up.'

After he handed me the four pills and a glass of yesterday's coconut juice, he pounced on my bottle. He could barely restrain himself and toll me, 'It's been weeks since I've had a decent hit of coke.'

The few downs I swallowed were not going to do much, but at least it was a start I felt better just being away from the house. Then I remembered. 'My shot! My shot! I must have my shot!' Sasha was absorbed in plunging coke through his syringe and barely heard me. 'I must have my vitamins. Let me think What did I have yesterday? Was it the calcium? I can't remember. Sasha, I need my shot.'

'What?'

'I have a calcium deficiency from the coke. I have to take calcium and vitamin B shots. What am I going to do? They're back at the house.'

'Mmminmmmmm.'

'Sasha, do you have calcium or vitamin B by any chance? I guess even calcium pills would be better than nothing. Sasha?'

'Uh, yeah. I have vitamin B3 ampoules somewhere. I'll have to look.'

'Really? Great. Will you give me the shot? I must have one every day.'

I waited for him to clean the syringe, and then he went searching once more through the clutter.

'Here it is,' he declared, handing me an ampoule. 'I don't have another needle, though. You’ll have to use this one.'

'Oh, but that's an intravenous needle. That won't work in the ass, will it?'

'No. It's not long enough. I take it in the arm. It's not bad. Gives you a neat rush. Sometimes I use the vitamin B instead of water.'

'Are you sure you can take it that way?'

'I do it all the time. It even says so on the label.'

I checked. He was right. It said good for intravenous or intramuscular.

Still, I was uncertain. Though I'd watched people stick needles in their arms, I'd never had one in mine. But I needed the shot. Oh, well. I guess I didn't have a choice.