Roza nodded. “Yes.”
“Wait, what?” Keira touched her temples. “You drugged us with LSD?”
“I know you’re upset now”—Roza smiled softly—“but you will thank me for this.”
“You think I’m going to thank you for lacing my drink?”
“Keira,” Taylor pleaded. “Just—”
“You know, I should’ve seen this coming,” Keira interrupted. “You’re Roza Vallo, you’re out there, that’s your thing, right? But this…” She pointed a shaking hand at her glass. “You’re using us, Roza. You’re using me. And that’s not okay.”
“K, calm down,” Taylor pleaded
Keira’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re honestly telling me to calm down right now?”
Taylor gestured. “No one else is upset.”
“Okay, fine.” Keira smiled, humorless. “I’m just the angry Black woman, and the rest of you are all just great with this.”
“We’re not,” Wren said in a phlegmy voice. She cleared her throat. “I’m not. This is definitely not okay.”
I remembered now: Wren had a fear of drugs because her uncle had overdosed. Our one LSD trip together had been a huge exception.
“I mean, we’ve all tripped before, haven’t we?” Taylor asked.
“I haven’t,” Poppy said.
“Keira?” Taylor asked.
Keira glared at her. “It doesn’t matter if I’ve tripped before or not. You get that, don’t you?”
“Honestly”—Taylor shrugged—“I’m sorry, but I really don’t think it’s that big a deal.”
Keira stood up. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m going upstairs.”
“You’re going to trip alone?” Taylor asked. “Are you sure?”
“Not like I have a choice.” Keira threw up her hands.
“Of course you do! Stay here. We’ll all trip together. It’s going to be amazing.”
Keira shook her head sadly. “I really can’t believe you, Taylor.”
“Fine. Whatever.” Taylor fell back into her chair. “Go upstairs. Try to make yourself throw up. Do what you need to do.”
“We’ll be down here if you change your mind,” Roza spoke up genially.
With a final head shake, Keira swiftly left the room.
The wind picked up and howled, rattling the windowpanes.
“Well,” Roza said finally. “That was unfortunate.”
“This is fucked-up.” Poppy said it quietly, but we all turned to her. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever heard her swear before.
“She’s right, Roza.” Wren swiped at her nose with a tissue. “I did not sign up for this.”
“I know my methods are a little unorthodox,” Roza said. “But I am truly helping you open your minds. In a safe environment, no less.”
“Poppy, you’re a newbie.” Taylor leaned forward. “That’s good to know. Wren, Alex? Have you tripped before?”
“Once,” Wren replied.
We’d done it together, five years before, at a massive SoHo loft party. Wren and I lounged on the king-sized bed, on the pile of coats. It felt like a boat drifting through the night, and we laughed at the characters who would sit down and chat with us.
“Once,” I echoed when Taylor looked at me.
“Okay, then.” Taylor sat in between Poppy and Wren on the couch. “Well, since this is happening, whether we like it or not, let’s try to get into a good headspace. Okay?”
“What about Keira?” I asked.
“What about her?” Roza gazed at me.
“I mean… I feel bad. She’s alone.”
“Her choice.” Roza shrugged.
But it wasn’t her choice.
What was there to do? As Taylor had said, this was happening whether we liked it or not.
The next day, when this was all over, I would invite the others into the parlor and we would have a serious discussion. We would go to Roza with our concerns. Maybe we would even rise up against her, take a day off from writing in order to punish her for her disturbing actions. It’s not like she would kick all of us out.
For now, though, I had to focus. If there was one thing I didn’t want to experience, it was a bad LSD trip at Blackbriar. So I tried to breathe, to calm myself. Every minute or so the thought would arise: Do I feel it now? It was like pausing at the top of a roller-coaster ride, waiting for the plunge.
* * *
And then, at some point, I was feeling it. The fire in the fireplace became brighter, alive.
“Do you see that?” Taylor asked, and went to the window.
I looked at Wren and she was gazing at me. And I knew she was thinking about the loft party, the bed. That same sliding feeling of timelessness arose. I realized Taylor was talking but I hadn’t been listening.
It’s going to be okay, I tried to transmit to Wren. I wondered if she was more scared than me.
Whoa. When had everyone moved? Taylor was at the buffet table, staring at the candy. Roza was sitting in front of the fire with Wren. Poppy was still on the couch. She looked somewhat perturbed, as if she was trying to remember something.
I got up and looked out the window. The snowflakes sparkled in the light shining out from the parlor, tinged with a neon purple color. For a while I was lost in them, my nose pressed against the glass. The snow went on forever out there.
“Alex.” Poppy’s hand was on my arm. Her large brown eyes were so dilated that I could’ve waded into them. “Can you come with me?”
“Sure.” I really didn’t want to leave the snow, but this seemed important. “What’s up?”
“I have to show you something.”
“Of course.” But as we left I wondered: Why was she asking me instead of Wren?
Wren and Roza were huddled near the fire, as if discussing a secret plan.
“We’re going to the bathroom,” Poppy announced. Maybe unnecessarily, because no one seemed to notice. Taylor was lying on the couch.
The room felt full suddenly, like the site of a full-blown party: I could hear the glasses clinking, little groups murmuring here and there. As Poppy pulled me along, a realization struck: it was a party that Daphne and Horace had thrown. The linear dimension of time was breaking down, the boundaries thinning. I could hear Horace’s voice, loud and deep. A woman laughing flirtatiously in response. Was Daphne here? I couldn’t sense her. But then, where was she?
In the hall it was mercifully still, though the party sounds inside the parlor were increasing: there came a shout, resulting laughter, the sound of breaking glass.
“Great party, isn’t it?” I said coyly, but Poppy ignored me, marching us down the hall. The paintings were moving and I slowed to gaze at the dead cow in the field. It had raised its head and was mouthing something at me that I strained to understand.
“Come on, Alex.” Poppy sounded frustrated. “I have to show you before it’s too late.”
“Okay, sorry.” I allowed myself to be dragged along. We burst into the kitchen. The shiny, flat surfaces felt shockingly severe. There were multiple pots and pans on the stove, burbling merrily. Where was Chitra?