The Experiment: Part One

   The whole thing started out with good intentions. Rich and Dave just wanted to do something nice for Billy before he got too sick to appreciate it.  Billy had stage 3c liver cancer and had decided to skip treatment in favour of riding out his last days on dope and pain meds.  Rich and Dave hatched a plan to take Billy up to the woods outside of Show Low for one last blow out.  Rich threw down a wallet full of cash on beer, mescal and steaks while Dave made the rounds on the phone for the pharmaceuticals.  Rich’s thinking was that the endless pine forests of Navajo County made for a good place to cut loose, get strung out, and holler at the stars without attracting the wrong kind of attention.

Dave kept Rich and Billy waiting on the Friday afternoon they were to head north out of Tucson.  Outside Dave’s place, Rich punched the horn of his Jeep Cherokee and kept it there. 

“FUCK YOU, RICH, I’M TRYING TO GET THIS ALL TOGETHER FOR US SO NOBODY FUCKING O’DS, AWRIGHT?” Dave spat as he flailed around inside the cluttered garage.  For a few tense minutes the horn wailed in the heat while Dave darted back and forth in the shadows, occasionally kicking at dusty boxes and swearing.  He eventually made it to the curb with only a tackle box.  “I’ve got it all sorted out in here, man,” he bragged. 

“Did you get the acid?” Billy asked.

“I got the acid and the coke and the oxy, mi hermanos.”

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna be the one who dies, dude,” groaned Rich.  “Is that all you’re really bringing? It gets pretty cold up there at night.”

“Yeah, and with this, I ain’t gonna feel a thing.”

           Dave shook the baggie of white, horse-pill sized tablets next to Rich’s ear as they pulled out of the cul-de-sac and on to Speedway, heading toward State Route 79, which would take them right past the State Prison at Florence, up to the junction with 60, and a straight shot to Show Low.