The Last Analects of Jasper James Kaufmann

11. The New Year

Part Three

Jasper made it back to West Berlin. He felt as if he were returning home when he walked up the many flights of stairs to his apartment. It was nighttime. Abelard greeted him with a firm handshake.

"How was the return of the prodigal son to his homeland in Ohio?" he immediately asked.

"Oh, it was all right," Jasper said, sighing. "I hung out a bunch with my best friend Richard. And I went to a party. And that's about all."

"Did you rediscover the halcyon days of your youth, like you had planned?"

"Not really," said Jasper sadly. "In fact, I'm forced to wonder if it was an illusion that I maintained inside my head."

"That's how it always goes, my friend. We romanticize the past. Going home is always a disappointment. It's never the same."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with you."

"Well, I wanted to wait up for your arrival, but now I'm going to bed. See you in the morning." Abelard disappeared into his bedroom and closed the door.

Jasper decided to go to bed, too. He turned out the light and lay in bed, but could not fall asleep. Eventually, he got up and turned the light back on. He opened a desk drawer and retrieved the bottle of clozapine. He hadn't taken any in quite a while, but he was in the mood for a good sleep, so he took two of the pills dry. Fairly soon he was under their spell, fast asleep.

He awoke the next day, rested. It was snowing heavily, much to his delight. He decided to unpack his suitcase. There he found, tucked into a shirt, a small plastic bag. It was the LSD hit. He had forgotten about it. He had not intended to take it, but Richard was so enthusiastic about it. He remembered his words. A necessary experience in one's spiritual journey. Well, it was a snowy day, not much else to do. Should he?

He unpacked his yellow legal pad, took out a pen and wrote on the first empty page:

"Why do I feel like moral resignation is becoming a theme in my life? Leave it to the saints and martyrs to be morally pure. I am but a mortal. Perfection is unnecessary."

And then he took the LSD out of its bag and put it on his tongue. He gradually let it dissolve. Now he just had to wait. Surely whatever he experienced next would help him grow, spiritually, in some way or other.

He went to make breakfast while he waited for the drug to take effect, oatmeal as usual, with apple and salt. He consumed it slowly. Surely the trip would begin soon. He went back to his room and reclined on his bed for a long while, but still nothing. What was going on?

Finally, he decided to talk to Abelard, who was sitting on the couch reading something.

"Um, Abelard?"

"What's up?"

"Do you know much about... lysergic acid diethylamide?"

"LSD? A bit. Why?"

"Ah. Well, you see, remember that I went to a party back home? Well. One of my friends sold some LSD to my friend Richard. And he gave me a hit of it for Christmas."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And... this morning I took it."

Abelard looked worried. "You have to be really careful with that stuff. It could severely damage your health. What effects are you feeling right now?"

"Well, that's the weird thing. I'm not feeling any effects at all."

"When did you take it, exactly?"