So, using the “follow your heart” command I took my semi-psychotic self up to the attic, where parties with Mark and his older friends introduced all of us to better music, alcohol, marijuana and kissing. There were drinking, smoking and kissing games, with variations that inevitably led to the older attendees laughing at the younger ones.
I don’t remember taking my clothes off, or how I ended up lifting and dropping the barbells that made enough noise for Mr. Martin, who was home form work to pick up his youngest daughter, Cathy, and who had come into the house without me hearing it, two stories up. But he heard it and came up two flights with Cathy close behind.
“I wonder what that was,” she said, and I recognized the voice without realizing I was buck naked.
“Put your clothes on Barry, what’s going on” Mr. Martin asked, somewhere between furious and humored.