Chapter 3

"Let me show you something that will blow your minds," said Jason, as if anything needed to be added to have that done. The pot and coke and sex had put our brains in a prolonged explosive state nearing a complete meltdown reducing us to a perpetual future of babbling and giggles.

Leaving the twin beauties naked on the bed luxuriating in post-orgasmic comfort, Jason led us to the other side of the large beach house. Through the door he presented what looked like a sound studio. The small space had a large glass wall. Underneath it a panel housed knobs and dials and slides and display screens. To the right of a small white door a light switch which Jason activated revealed the room beyond the booth.

What appeared to be a metal sarcophagus sat in the center of the room filling most of it. Large panels of black and chrome gave it a sleek, sexy look. "Our sensory deprivation tank," said Jason proudly. "Who wants to go first?"

"Wow," I said. "I've been reading all about those lately, but it seemed like a sci-fi fantasy. I never thought I'd see the real thing."

"Some friends in Northern California build them."

"Really?" I said. "My mom told me about some guy coming into her store to distribute them. Carl somebody I think."

"Charlie?"

"Yeah, up in the Redwood area. She knew of my interest and promised to give me the information when I got home."

"Yeah, they're really cool people. Ben's still here in fact. He's like Charlie's partner, or I guess more like comrade since they live in a commune." I could hear a touch of distaste at the word "commune." I mean, what would he call what he had in his house? A corporate enterprise perhaps.

"I'd love to give it a ride," I said a little nervously. Not only would this be a strange, completely unknown adventure, but could very well be the scene of murder.

"Cool. Go on in and strip to your swim suit. I'll give you instructions over the speakers inside using my microphone here."

"I'm going to grab my cigarettes," said Margarita. "You mind if I smoke?"

"No problem," said Jason. I knew she intended to grab her purse, having the sample bottle stashed inside ready to bring some liquid from the chamber to the police.

Opening the chamber, I discovered it half full of water or some sort of liquid. When I climbed inside, I became completely buoyant, resting on the liquid which felt like the most comfortable mattress ever. Jason in a deep calming voice relaxed me. Using some sort of hypnotic technique, he had me imagine taking all my thoughts and concerns and tensions and slowly emptying them out of the tips of my fingers and toes. In the complete darkness I felt nothing, smelled nothing, tasted nothing, and in the pitch blackness of the chamber when closed, saw nothing. And when Jason's voice ended, I heard nothing.

Time resembled dreams. All senses resided in my head. I floated in the middle of a large calm lake, looking up at sharp, towering mountains crested by snow. Wispy clouds thickened and became benevolent faces of gods looking down at me. When they laughed, I laughed with them. The blue sky became fragmented, like jigsaw puzzle pieces, and those pieces took on features of familiar people, friends and family, as well as strangers and images from nature, both flora and fauna, and I experienced the interconnectedness of the universe.

Then things began to change. In the absence of sensory stimulation, I heard the quietest of hisses outside myself. I smelled a chemical odor masked by a floral scent, potent as gardenias despite it barely being there. Then I heard a voice, not Jason's, higher pitched. It insinuated itself inside my skull, making me unsure of its source: a speaker or self-created. I couldn't understand the words but they effected me.

The nirvana I had been in ended. Images of my past appeared. They consisted of me getting my PI license, cases being investigated, Kitty, Margarita, Rhonda's photograph, and Margarita, Kitty, Sandy and myself hatching plans for the case. I felt my throat vibrate, but heard nothing of what I said.

Gradually my inner world dissolved. I could hear Jason's voice bringing me back to the reality of being inside the metal sarcophagus, thankfully not entombed inside like some mummy, but very much alive. The dim light allowed my eyes to adjust when the chamber opened and a blurry eyed bikini clad Margarita stood at the opening.

"You okay?" I asked.

She palmed me the glass container as if passing a note, careful to keep it secret from Jason. I filled it with the liquid in the chamber. "I fell asleep," she said. "Jason just woke me up to get you out and try it for myself."

"Enjoy," I said.

A suspicious glare or a smart-ass smile I had seen on Jason's face before. The blank look he gave me when I came into the booth worried me more than any other. I sat where Margarita had sat, the only other chair in the room besides Jason's. He instructed Margarita, speaking into the mic, watching her while occasionally glancing at me. I suddenly felt very drowsy, and the hint of a chemical odor convinced me of a reason. I pretended sleep holding my breath as long as possible. A couple minutes later I could hold out no longer. My last memory before passing out came through careful slits of my eyes. Jason donned headphones. He whispered something into the mic, some question about Rhonda.

When we emerged from the room, we noticed a tall, handsome man with blond hair sitting at the dining room table slugging back a giant swallow of rum. A couple of long lines of cocaine lay in front of him. We made our introductions to Ben. Margarita sat beside Ben. They stared into each other's eyes. He slid the mirror in front of her, but she declined the powder.

"Do you think you could build us a couple of sailboards, Jason?" I asked.

"I don't think so. In fact I don't think we'll being seeing each other any time soon." I noticed Jason kept his distance from Ben, glancing at him with what I could only interpret as guilt.

"Let's go outside and discuss this," I said.

Jason shrugged his shoulders and followed me through the screen door. Margarita and an unsteady Ben came out soon after, sitting on the stoop and quietly talking. As Jason and I strolled to the edge of the water, I noticed Margarita leaning against Ben.

The night was typically perfect. The cool trades blew gently from offshore, containing a delicate hint of seawater. The stars twinkled and the quarter moon hung just over the mountains. The waves quickly erased our tracks as they rose up to our feet and dwindled away, their constant, deep rolling sound helped relax me.