Induction Day

“Ninety days in the county jail” the judge declared after Gus had been convicted of possessing dangerous drugs, a misdemeanor. The sentence was not unexpected. The prosecutor had a reputation for dragging out cases against colorful, long-haired people until just before summer time, then handing out three month sentences to “get them damn hippies off the street before the tourist season hits.” Orders from Mayor Wilcox

The nineteen forty-nine wood paneled station wagon meandered through the traffic on the Pacific Coast Highway (Route 1) in Laguna Beach. Pasted to the rear bumper was the bumper sticker

“If they call it tourist season, why can’t we hunt them?”

The traffic crept. “Twenty minutes and we're not even through South Laguna” Rod complained. “If it wasn’t for the fucking tourists, we’d be on our boards in San Clemente.

“Just chill, Rod” Benji told him. “We’ll be there soon enough. Grab another beer, and hand me one from the cooler there.”

“Pass one up here to me, too” Gus said.

The waves on the south side of the San Clemente pier were breaking rather nice. Gus paddled out to the area where the waves began to break. He took a medium sized one to the shore, paddled out again and waited for a better wave. A few decent waves made some good runs. Gus put his board back in the Woody and joined a group around one of the fire pits on the beach. Rod and Benji were already there, mingling. As he walked toward the fire pit, Jessica noticed him. She moved back to leave room for Gus to move in beside her. She made eye contact. Gus stepped beside her.

“What’s new with you?” Jessica asked.

“Got my draft notice” Gus blurted. “Gotta get to LA to the induction center on the twenty-third.”

“Bummer” Jessica consoled. “What are you gonna do?”

“People tell me to hide out in the desert or Alaska. Move to Canada or Sweden.” Gus explained. “I may have an out.”

“How?” Jessica asked.

“Can’t say yet”

“OK. Hope it works” Jessica cooed. “Why don’t you bring a couple of joints to my place tonight and I’ll help you forget about it.”

“I gots lotsa forgettin’ to do” Gus reminded.

“I’ll give you lotsa reasons to forget.”

Gus stayed that night at Jessica’s place. He stayed most of the next day while forgetting not just his impending date with destiny. Gus forgot to turn up at the car wash, best tip day of the week.

Whenever Gus showed up at the car wash before nine AM to work, he was always put on the line. The crew was selected from the people available each morning. When Gus showed up, he was one of the ones who actually worked for the pittance they were paid. As a result, Gus would be assigned one of the drive-off and detail jobs that resulted in getting whatever tip may be offered by the car owner picking up the clean vehicle. For Gus, his paycheck went mostly for rent. The tips he received covered food and weed. His room-mate, Chip was the other drive off/detailer. They pooled money for both. They both dealt a little on weekends to take care of personal consumption.

“So, next time I see you, you might have a uniform on?” Jessica questioned.

“I hope not. Got a couple of things up my sleeve that might keep me out.”

“I hope not too. I like you as you are.” Jessica agreed.

Gus had spoken to his probation officer about his two years remaining on probation. The PO told him that his sentence could be reversed so he could be drafted. He couldn’t find a job that would qualify for consciousness objector status. His friend Bill worked in the cancer ward at the local hospital. Worked for him. No openings when Gus checked. Gus’s last resort was to use his felony arrest record for possessing and transporting pot to convince the Army he was not fit to serve. One fact Gus did not intend to reveal was that the quantity of pot he was possessing and transporting was a few roaches found in an ash tray. The transporting charge was tacked on because the ash tray happened to be in Gus’s car. “Need to find a way to make the Army think there’s more to it” Gus considered. “Have to think about what Tom said.”

Gus heard about boot-camp and how recruits are required to follow ridiculous orders and other reasons to try to not be a passenger in the bus from the induction center directly to Fort Ord. The main purpose of boot camp is to get recruits to forget anything except following orders.

Tom managed the Laguna Beach Car Wash where Gus and his room mate Chip worked at. Tom was also a friend who Gus and Chip partied with after work on weekends. A beer and a shot to reward for a hard day’s work was welcomed. Tom always paid for the first round. Saturday tips funded the next. Tom had a decided limp due to dumping his bike while he was riding with a group of Angels. After recovering from two months in the hospital and not being able to ride again, the chapter leader recommended Tom to the car wash owner to take on the manager job that was open. Tom’s been here ever since, at least six years now.

“My old buddy Dirtbag had a record like yours. Went to his draft day thing with his arrest records, smelling like he’d rolled in something nasty. They sent him home because of the tracks on his arm. Classified him Morally Undesirable”

“Something to think about” Gus mentioned. “Been a long time since I shot up anything”

“So, you’ve shot up before?” Tom queried.

“Long time ago” Gus replied. "Teen age suburban life was so boring we tried everything we could think of.”

“Wha’d ya do?” Tom asked.

“Mostly reds and crystal. Tried smack once. Just that once.”

“It you want to go for it, I can get you a kit.”

“Thanks, Tom. I’ll let you know.

When Gus told Chip about the discussion he was surprised.

“I never knew you shot up”

“Not my proudest achievement. Don’t talk about it much.”

“I never tried it” Chip said. “Too scary”

Jessica freaked out when Gus told her the story. “Are you really thinking about it?”

“Guess I am” Gus told her. “Mostly thinking I don’t want to join the Army. Might be a way out.”

Talk among Gus and his friends was about the draft in general and Gus’s possible shooting up to get out of the draft. Opinions were mixed.

“Too radical for me” some said.

“Whatever it takes” opposed the more radical among them. Gus seemed to be leaning that way.

His friend Jerry the Boxer had injected hormones while he was weight lifting and training for his matches. Never into a vein. Kevin had tried shooting speed once but someone else injected him.

“You know what would be cool to shoot?” John from Ann Arbor mentioned.

“What” came from a couple of sources.

“Acid” John said. “I hate to wait nearly an hour to see if the buzz is any good.” There was nodding of heads and brains considering the impact of John’s pronouncement.

“I’d do it” Crazy Horse interjected.

“Not me” countered Chip and a couple of the others. Gus was noncommittal. Jessica noticed his concern. “If you decide to do it, I’ll do it with you” she ventured. John was also ready to join the band. Gus was the only one among the group who had actually used a needle. He agreed to help the others if such a decision was made.

For the few days before Gus’s appointment at the induction center, he practiced hitting a vein and drawing a few drops of blood. Had to have visible tracks to show. No decision on whether to actually shoot acid was made.

The day before the twenty-third, Jessica spent the day with Gus. They made love numerous times. “You might not get to see one of these for a while” Jessica mentioned after her panties were kicked off.

“I like the one I see now”

“Then get over here”

After showering, Jessica drove them down to the coast highway where people hang out.

“I told Crazy Horse and Kevin we’d meet here to see if we’re going to shoot acid tonight.” Gus reminded Jessica. “I know” she replied.