Inherent Vice by Thomas Pynchon Read Free Book Online Page B

barf and shit all over the place, me with my face in his lap and to complicate things of course he had this hardon.
    “ Well.
    “ Even before we got to San Diego, we were shooting up together in the back of somebody ’ s van, and less than two weeks later, on the inter esting theory that two can score as cheaply as one, we got married, next thing we knew here came Amethyst, and pretty soon this is what we had her looking like. ”
    She handed Doc a couple of Polaroid baby pictures. He was startled at the baby ’ s appearance, swollen, red-faced, vacant. Having no idea of what kind of shape she was in at present, he felt his skin begin to ache with anxiety.
    “ Everybody we knew helpfully pointed out how the heroin was com ing through in my breast milk, but who could afford to buy formula? My parents saw us locked into a dismal slavery, but Coy and I, all we saw was the freedom—from that endless middle-class cycle of choices that are no choices at all—a world of hassle reduced to the one simple issue of scoring. And how was shooting up any different from the old folks and their dinner-hour cocktails anyway? we figured.
    “ But actually when did it ever get that dramatic? Heroin in Cali fornia? my gracious. Stepped on so often it should have ‘ Welcome ’ writ ten across every bag. There we were happy and stupid as any drunk, giggling in and out bedroom windows, cruising straightworld neighbor hoods picking out strange houses at random, asking to use the bathroom, going in and shooting up. ‘ Course, now that ’ s impossible to do, Charlie Manson and the gang have fucked that up for everybody. End of a certain kind of innocence, that thing about straightworld people that kept you from hating them totally, that real desire sometimes to help. No more of that, I guess. One more West Coast tradition down the toilet along with three percent product anymore. ”
    “ And so ... this thing that happened to your husband ... ”
    “ It wasn ’ t California smack, for sure. Coy wouldn ’ t ’ ve made that mistake, using the same amount without checking. Somebody had to’ve switched bags on him deliberately, knowing it would kill him. ”
    “ Who was the dealer? ”
    “ El Drano, up in Venice. Actually Leonard, but everybody uses the anagram because he does have that sort of caustic personality, plus his effect on the finances and emotions of those close to him. Coy had known him for years. He swore up and down it was local heroin, noth ing out of the ordinary, but what does a dealer care? Overdoses are good for business, suddenly herds of junkies are showing up at the door, con vinced if it killed somebody then it must be really good shit, and all they have to do themselves is be careful and not shoot quite so much. ”
    Doc became aware of a baby, or technically toddler, risen quietly from her nap, holding on to a doorjamb and watching them with a big expectant grin in which you could see some teeth already in.
    “ Hey, ” Doc said, “ you ’ re that Amethyst, ain ’ t you? ”
    “ Yep, ” replied Amethyst, as if about to add, “ what ’ s it to you? ”
    Bright-eyed and ready to rock ‘ n ’ roll, she bore little resemblance to the junkie baby in the Polaroids. Whatever dismal fate had been waiting to jump her must ’ ve had a short attention span and turned aside and gone after somebody else. “ Nice to see you, ” Doc said. “ Really nice. ”
    “ Really nice, ” she said. “ Mom? Want juice. ”
    “ You know where it is, Juicegirl. ” Amethyst nodded vigorously and headed out to the fridge. “ Ask you something, Doc? ”
    “ Long as it ain ’ t the capital of South Dakota, sure. ”
    “ This mutual friend you and Coy have. Had. Is she, like, some kind of ex, or were you just dating, or ... ? ”
    Who did Doc have to talk to about any of this that wasn ’ t stoned, jealous, or a cop? Amethyst had found a cup of juice waiting in the fridge and climbed up onto the couch next to him, looking