Hadn't thought about it in years, but seeing the photographs brought it all back. I chuckled, trying to remember how long it had been since I had seen Mike Whichall. It must have been, what, twenty years or so. BEAUTY AND THE BIG SLEEP
Barbara Smith
Hadn't thought about it in years, but seeing the photographs brought it all back. I chuckled, trying to remember how long it had been since I had seen Mike Whichall. It must have been, what, twenty years or so.
We had been inseparable back then, in the crazy days, getting into one scrape after another. Life was never dull with Whichy around, that's for sure.
We had met in junior school, graduated to the same grammar school, then on to college. I'd gone for the easy option and taken an art course. Whichy signed on for chemistry. It was a subject he was passionate about and he certainly had a talent for it. He left the rest of his class standing and even surpassed his tutor at times, the boy was a natural.
This was in the late seventies and the drug scene at that time was wild to say the least. This was where Whichy came into his own. He was producing designer drugs before the phrase was even invented. Needless to say he was in big demand at all of the night-clubs we frequented. I have to admit that I tried a few of his products and some of the effects were mind-blowing.
Our favourite haunt was the Dungeon, that's where we met Beauty. Her real name was Tracy Benson, but her dad had dubbed her Beauty, for obvious reasons and the name had stuck. Eventually she wouldn't answer to anything else.
Beauty was crazy, the original 'wild child', with the emphasis on the wild. She sort of tagged on to us. Whichy and I didn't mind, a gorgeous piece like her could only add to our street cred. Whichy thought she had the hots for him, but I think it was his endless supply of magic potions that attracted her.
The seventies were magical times, an never-ending round of rock and roll, fun and drugs, a serious thought never entered our heads, until Duckweed.
It was Whichy's latest concoction and, of course, Beauty wanted to be the first to try it. She took the packet into the ladies loo. When she came out she seemed OK, her eyes were a bit sparkly, but they always were. She smiled around at everybody and then---, well ---, she fell asleep. Right there in the night-club, in front of the bar. Between us we got her out to the car, but she wouldn't waken up. To say that we panicked is an understatement.
"We'll have to take her to the hospital, " said Whichy when he had calmed down a bit.
"What if she dies?" I whispered.
"Shut up!" he said savagely. "Just drive."
We dumped her in the entrance and sped away, scared senseless. The papers carried the story the next day and we read every word, avidly. She wasn't in a coma, as we feared, she was just asleep and nothing could awaken her.
A lot of myths grew up around the story from this point. Firstly there was no way that she slept for a hundred years, it was a hundred and three days to be exact. And I don't recall any spinning wheel, the only needle that ever pricked that girl was a hypodermic. Anyway Beauty slept on and we kept a low profile and got on with our lives. But the story took a strange twist.
On Beauty's ward at the hospital, there was a charge nurse called Harold Prince. Now Harold was a nice enough guy, but a bit of a geek, if you know what I mean. Well the more he looked after Beauty, the more he fell for her.
When he was on night duty he would sit with her for hours, just holding her hand and thinking how breathtaking she was. It was during one of these nightly vigils, that passion got the better of him. He lent over and kissed Beauty, full on the lips, and that's when she woke up.
Harold got the fright of his life and jumped up in agitation. But she grabbed his hands, telling him about the wonderful visions she had seen during her sleep. The two of them were going to start a commune that would attract the rich and famous from every corner of the earth. Together they were going to build an empire, she had seen it all while she slept
And that's just what they did. They dropped out of sight for a while after Beauty got out of the hospital. Then about a year later, rumours of this new cult started to surface. Top people were flocking to it and donating their money like it was going out of fashion. I don't need to tell you who the cult leaders were, you will already have guessed. Beauty told the world about the visions she had witnessed during 'withdrawal from the world', as she put it. The future had been revealed to her, she said. She had been given the mission of amassing as much money as she could before the coming of a miraculous event that would occur in the new century. I saw her on television. She was very convincing, I nearly sent in a donation myself.
It was around this time that Whichy disappeared, one day he was there , the next he was gone. I puzzled about it for a time, but life goes on and other things happen and eventually I stopped wondering. Now and again there would be a snippet in the press about Beauty's gang. She was reported to be able to perform some pretty amazing feats, along with some of her followers.
As for me, I got married, had a couple of kids, found a responsible job and forgot all about my wild past. Until today that is.
I picked up the magazine in the waiting room, just to pass the time and there they were, Beauty and Harold, in full colour. There was a two- page spread, showing their beautiful home in California. It was a castle that looked like it had stepped out of a fairy story. The things he had seen there had amazed the reporter. It seems that the cult members had the powers of levitation and shown off their skill by floating around in front of him. He had taken a doctor with him on the assignment, who had examined some of the floaters. According to him, it was caused by some sort of chemical imbalance. And then in the last picture I spotted him. He was lurking at the back of a magnificent fountain, wearing a white lab coat. It was definitely Witchy, I would know those specs anywhere.