Beauty and the big sleep

Beauty and the Big Sleep

I 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 Witchall. 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 Witchy 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. Witchy 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 Witchy 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. Witchy and I didn't
mind, a gorgeous piece like her could only add to our street cred.
Witchy 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 Witchy'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 Witchy 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 Witchy 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,
some sort of chemical imbalance caused it. 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.