Chapter Thirteen (January 10, 1969) (Draft)

Friday, January 10, 1969

(Canoga Park, California)

I’ve split the pad, now at Mom’s.

This morning, when I got back to the apartment from Levi’s, Dee Dee was waiting for me; the place was a mess–he was definitely grossed out.

That pad was never a palace, but Stoney and his creepy doped-up friends didn’t help matters much, smoking weed, shooting horse, dropping acid. Leaving dirty dishes, garbage, and clothes all over–like I’m their mother–and burning plastic bags and letting them drop to the floor, just to see what would happen. Like you couldn’t predict the burn holes in the carpet.

I was going to clean up, but when Dee Dee appeared out of the blue, my plans changed dramatically.

Rudy sold me out for 40 bucks–can you believe that shit? Now Dee thinks all hippies are snitches–made a big show of paying him off.

Rudy would sell out his mother.

Stoney’s still in New York City with all that acid, but I don’t think he’s coming back, and maybe it’s just as well. I don’t think he’s capable of loving anyone, he’s so screwed up. For Christmas, he gave me that jade ring and petrified wood, but then Levi told me he lifted them from Metamorphosis. What a bummer! Some Christmas presents. But I shouldn’t talk–the other day, I lifted some jeans, but never again. I don’t like how I felt afterwards–like I had dirty hands.

I’ll tell you, I’m not going to live with another man out of wedlock; the next boyfriend will have to marry me first. I met a guy two days ago; I thought we were just friends, but he made it very clear what he wanted, but I said, "No, I’m not ready for that yet." Then I told him I had the clap, and he let it go.

Still, I feel so used.

I need to get Stoney out of my head.

Stoney’s so hot right now; those two dicks coming to the apartment on the 5th really freaked me out, but, now, at least, the heat’s bearing down on Rudy. Shooting off that gun didn’t exactly lower his profile–thank God no one got hurt from that stupid stunt–just rattled the whole building; even the other crazies think Rudy’s gone too far.

Those cops warned me they’d be back, though. I don’t want to end up in jail, but Stoney’s headed there, and I could go down with him. I’ve already been picked up twice, for, of all things, curfew violations. But when I proved I’m 18–I always carry my birth certificate–they had to let me go.

I hope Jeff doesn’t get all mixed up with dealing; he doesn’t have the mind set for it. I wonder if he’s coming back? I haven’t heard from him lately, just after Christmas, and he didn’t have anything exciting to report about his holiday. In my last letter, I told him about my close call on New Year’s Eve.

He probably thinks I’m a total idiot.

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