Junky

  Roy had always taken an intolerant and puritanical view of pigeons. “I don’t see how a pigeon can live with himself,” he said to me once.

  I asked Bill about child addicts. He nodded and smiled, a sly gloating smile. “Yes, Lexington is full of young kids now.”

  •

  One day I was in the Opera Bar in Mexico City and ran into a politician I knew. He was standing at the bar with a napkin tucked in his collar, eating a steak. Between mouthfuls he asked me did I know anyone who might be interested to buy an ounce of heroin.

  I said, “Maybe. How much?”

  He said, “They want five hundred dollars.”

  I talked to Bill Gains and he said, “All right. If it’s anywhere near pure I’ll take it. But no sight unseen. I have to try the stuff first.”

  So I arranged it with the politician and we went down to his office. He brought the stuff out of a drawer in a finger stall and laid it on the desk beside a .45 automatic.

  “I don’t know anything about this stuff,” he said. “All I use is cocaine.”

  I poured some out on a piece of paper. It didn’t look right to me. Sort of gray-black. I guess “they” had cooked it up some place on a kitchen stove.

  Gains took a shot, but he was so loaded already on goof balls and M he couldn’t tell one way or the other. So I took a shot and told him. “It’s H, but there’s something not exactly right about it.”

  People meanwhile were walking in and out the office. Nobody paid us any mind sitting there on the couch with our sleeves rolled up, probing for veins with the needle. Anything can happen in the office of a Mexican politician.

  Anyway Bill bought the H and I went somewhere and didn’t see him until next day, eleven o’clock on a bright Mexican morning, standing by my bed, cadaverous in his blue-black overcoat, midnight blue, his eyes brighter than I ever saw them, gleaming in the darkness of the curtained room. He stood there with the impurities of amateur H in his brain like spirochetes.

  “You just going to lie there on your bed?” he asked. “With all these shipments coming in?”

  “Why not?” I said, annoyed. “This isn’t any fuckin’ farm . . . shipments of what?”

  “Good, pure M,” he said. Then shoes, overcoat and all, he got right in bed with me.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I asked. “You crazy?” And looking into his bright blank eyes I saw that he was.

  I got him back to his room and confiscated what was left of the piece of H.

  Old Ike showed, and we poured ten centimeters of laudanum down Bill’s gullet. After that he stopped raving about “shipments of good, pure M” and went to sleep.

  “Maybe he die,” Old Ike said, “and they blame it onto me.”

  “If he dies, you clear out,” I said. “Listen. He’s got six hundred dollars cash in his wallet. Why leave it for some Mexican cop to steal?”

  We shook the place down looking for the wallet, but could not find it. We looked everywhere except under the mattress where Bill was lying.

  Next day Bill was good as new, but he couldn’t find his money.

  “You must have stashed it,” I said. “Look under the mattress.”

  He turned up the mattress and the wallet sprung open, it was so full of crisp money.

  •

  At this time, I was not on junk, but I was a long way from being clean in the event of an unforeseen shake. There was always some weed around, and people were using my place as a shooting gallery. I was taking chances and not making centavo one. I decided it was about time to move out from under and head south.

  When you give up junk, you give up a way of life. I have seen junkies kick and hit the lush and wind up dead in a few years. Suicide is frequent among ex-junkies. Why does a junkie quit junk of his own will? You never know the answer to that question. No conscious tabulation of the disadvantages and horrors of junk gives you the emotional drive to kick. The decision to quit junk is a cellular decision, and once you have decided to quit you cannot go back to junk permanently any more than you could stay away from it before. Like a man who has been away a long time, you see things different when you return from junk.

  I read about a drug called yage, used by Indians in the headwaters of the Amazon. Yage is supposed to increase telepathic sensitivity. A Colombian scientist isolated from yage a drug he called telepathine.

  I know from my own experience that telepathy is a fact. I have no interest in proving telepathy or anything to anybody. I do want usable knowledge of telepathy. What I look for in any relationship is contact on the nonverbal level of intuition and feeling, that is, telepathic contact.

  Apparently, I am not the only one interested in yage. The Russians are using this drug in experiments on slave labor. They want to induce states of automatic obedience and literal thought control. The basic con. No build-up, no routine, just move in on someone’s psyche and give orders. The deal is certain to backfire because telepathy is not of its nature a one-way set-up, or a set-up of sender and receiver at all.

  I decided to go down to Colombia and score for yage. Bill Gains is squared away with Old Ike. My wife and I are separated. I am ready to move on south and look for the uncut kick that opens out instead of narrowing down like junk.

  Kick is seeing things from a special angle. Kick is momentary freedom from the claims of the aging, cautious, nagging, frightened flesh. Maybe I will find in yage what I was looking for in junk and weed and coke. Yage may be the final fix.

  GLOSSARY

  “Jive talk” is used more in connection with marijuana than with junk. In the past few years, however, the use of junk has spread into “hip,” or “jive talking” circles, and junk lingo has, to some extent, merged with “jive talk.” For example, “Are you anywhere?” can mean “Do you have any junk or weed on your person?” Jive talk always refers to more than one level of fact. “Are you anywhere?” can also refer to your psychic condition: “Are you holding psychically?”

  Are you anywhere? Are you holding? Do you have any junk or weed on you?

  Beat To take someone’s money. For example, addict A says he will buy junk for addict B but keeps the money instead. Addict A has “beat” addict B for the money.

  Benny Benzedrine. It can also mean overcoat.

  Bring down, Drag The opposite of high. Depressing.

  Brown Stuff, or Mud Opium.

  Burn Down To overdo or run into the ground. Certain restaurants are used so much by junkies as meeting-places that the restaurant gets known to the police. Then the restaurant is “burned down.”

  Burning Down Habit, an Oil Burner Habit A heavy habit.

  C, Coke, Charge, Charly Cocaine.

  Caps Capsules of heroin.

  Cat A man.

  Chick A woman.

  Chucks Excessive hunger, often for sweets. This comes on an addict when he has kicked his habit far enough so that he starts to eat. When an addict is cut off the junk, he can’t eat for several days. I have seen addicts who did not eat for a month. Then he gets the “chucks” and eats everything in sight.

  Clean A user is clean if he does not have any junk on his person or premises in the event of a search by the law.

  Cold Turkey To quit using suddenly and completely with no gradual reduction of the dose. Almost always involuntary.

  Collar Strip of paper wrapped around a dropper to make a tight fit with a needle.

  Come on The way someone acts, his general manner and way of approaching others.

  Come up A lush waking up while he is being robbed.

  Cook To dissolve junk in water heated in a spoon or other container.

  Cop To pass a cap of junk to someone; to hold out a hand for a cap.

  Copper Jitters Exaggerated fear of cops. When you have the Copper Jitters, everybody looks like a cop.

&nb
sp; Croaker A doctor.

  Dig To size up, to understand, to like, or enjoy.

  Fey White.

  Five-Twenty-Nine Five months and twenty-nine days. This is the term in the workhouse that a lush-worker receives for “jostling.” If a detective sees a lush-worker approach or touch a lush, he places a “jostling” charge.

  Flop Drunk passed out on a subway station bench.

  G One grain. Morphine is the standard for junk measurement. One-half grain of morphine is one “fix.” A capsule of heroin should contain at least the equivalent of ½ grain of morphine. Heroin is seven times as strong as morphine.

  Gold Money.

  H, Horse, Henry Heroin.

  Habit A junk habit. It takes at least a month of daily use to get a needle habit, two months for a smoking habit, four months for an eating habit.

  Heat, Fuzz Law, cops, the police.

  Heavy Junk, as opposed to marijuana.

  Hep or Hip Someone who knows the score. Someone who understands “jive talk.” Someone who is “with it.” The expression is not subject to definition because, if you don’t “dig” what it means, no one can ever tell you.

  High Feeling good, in a state of euphoria. You can be “high” on benny, weed, lush, nutmeg, ammonia (The Scrubwoman’s Kick). You can be high without any chemical boot, just feeling good.

  Hog Anyone who uses more junk than you do. To use over five grains per day puts a user in the hog class.

  Hook Lush-workers usually work in pairs. One lush-worker covers his partner with a newspaper, while the other goes through the lush’s pockets. The one who covers the other is the “hook.”

  Hooked To get a habit.

  Hot, Uncool Somebody liable to attract attention from the law. A place watched by the law.

  Hot Shot Poison, usually strychnine, passed to an addict as junk. The peddler sometimes slips a hot shot to an addict because the addict is giving information to the law.

  The Hype, The Bill A short-change racket.

  John Someone who keeps a woman and spends money on her.

  Joy Bang An occasional shot by someone who does not have a habit.

  Kick A word with several meanings. It can mean the effect of a drug or a mood brought on by some place, or person. “This bar gives me bad kicks.” “This bar depresses me.” You can also be on “good kicks.” A kick is also a special way of looking at things so that the man who is “on kicks” sees things from a special angle.

  Kick a Habit To quit using junk and get over a habit.

  Lay on Give.

  Loaded, On the Nod Full of junk.

  Lush-worker A thief who specializes in robbing drunks on the subway.

  M, M.S. Morphine. M.S. stands for Morphine Sulphate, which is the morphine salt most commonly used in the U.S.

  Main Line Vein, a vein injection.

  Making Cars Breaking into parked cars and stealing the contents.

  Mark Someone easy to rob, like a drunk with a roll of money.

  Meet An appointment, usually between peddler and customer.

  Nembies, Goof Balls, Yellow Jackets Nembutal capsules. Nembutal is a barbiturate used by junkies “to take the edge off” when they can’t get junk.

  P.G. Paregoric. A weak, camphorated tincture of opium, two grains to the ounce. Two ounces will fix a sick addict. It can be bought without prescription in some states. P.G. can be injected intravenously after burning out the alcohol and straining out the camphor.

  The People Narcotics agents. A New Orleans expression.

  Pickup To use. Generally refers to weed. But you can “pickup” on nembies, lush, or junk.

  Piece Gun.

  Pigeon, Fink, Rat Informer.

  Plant, Stash To hide something, usually junk, or an “outfit.”

  Poke Wallet.

  Pop, Bang, Shot, Fix Injection of junk.

  Pop Corn Someone with a legitimate job, as opposed to a “hustler” or thief.

  Pusher, Peddler, “The Man” Junk seller. “The Man” is another New Orleans expression, and can also refer to a Narcotics Agent.

  Put Down a Hype or Routine To give someone a story, to persuade, or con someone.

  Put Your Hand Out To go through a lush’s pockets.

  Score To buy junk or marijuana.

  Serve, Take Care Of To sell junk to a user.

  Shake, Rumble Search by the law.

  Skin Skin injection.

  Sick, Gaping, Yenning Sickness caused by lack of junk.

  Smash Change, money, coins.

  Square The opposite of hip. Someone who does not understand the jive.

  Spade A Negro.

  Speed Ball Cocaine mixed with morphine or heroin.

  Spike Needle.

  Stuff, Junk General terms for opium and all derivatives of opium: morphine, heroin, Dilaudid, pantopon, codeine, dionine.

  Take a Fall To get arrested.

  Tea head, Head, Viper User of marijuana.

  Tie-up Tie, or handkerchief, used as a tourniquet for a vein shot.

  User, Hyp, Junkie, Junker, Shmecker Junk addict.

  Weed, Tea, Gage, Grass, Greefa, Muggles, Pot, Hash Marijuana, hashish.

  White stuff Morphine, or heroin, as opposed to “brown stuff.”

  Working the Hole Lush-working.

  Works, Outfit, Joint A user’s outfit for injecting junk. Consists of an eyedropper, hypodermic needle, strip of paper to fit the dropper tight into the needle, and a spoon or other container in which to dissolve the junk.

  Write To write a narcotic prescription. To “make a Croaker for a Script” means to persuade a doctor to write a prescription for junk.

  Wrong Term used to describe an informer.

  Yen Pox Ash of opium after the opium has been smoked. Yen Pox contains about the same morphine content as opium before smoking. It can be eaten with hot coffee, or dissolved in water and injected intravenously.

  It should be understood that the meanings of these words are subject to rapid changes, and that a word that has one hip meaning one year may have another the next. The hip sensibility mutates. For example, “Fey” means not only white, but fated or demoniac. Not only do the words change meanings but meanings vary locally at the same time. A final glossary, therefore, cannot be made of words whose intentions are fugitive.

  APPENDIX 1

  CHAPTER 28 OF

  THE ORIGINAL “JUNK” MANUSCRIPT

  At this time I read The Cancer Biopathy by Wilhelm Reich. Reich says that Life is a charge, and the charged particles on which life depends he calls “orgones.” When your “orgone” charge gives out, you die. Orgones are everywhere in the atmosphere, and in all living and dead matter. An orgone envelope surrounds the earth, and orgones charge the sunlight. Orgones give off a blue color.

  Philosophers have been talking for a long time about “life-force” and “cosmic energy.” But Reich’s orgones are a definite force that can be measured, concentrated and used. He claims clinical results in treating with orgone therapy cancer and other “biopathies.” By a “cancer biopathy,” Reich means the whole cancer set-up which is established long before the symptoms of cancer appear. Reich devised a method for concentrating orgones based on the experimental finding that orgones are absorbed and retained by organic matter, but pass freely through metal. He built a box with organic material on the outside and a lining of sheet iron inside. The orgones are caught and absorbed by the outer layer of organic matter and pass freely through the sheet iron to the inside of the box. The passage of orgones from the inside of the box out is retarded by a layer of organic matter behind the sheet metal lining. So orgones are coming into the box faster than they can get out and the result is a concentration of orgones inside the box. Reich calls this box an accumulator. The accumulators design
ed for orgone therapy are constructed with several organic-metal layers to increase the concentration of orgones, and shaped like a steam cabinet so the patient can sit down inside the box.

  Cancer is rot of tissue in a living organism. In junk sickness the junk-dependent cells die and are replaced. Cancer is a premature death process. The cancer patient shrinks. A sick junkie shrinks— I have lost up to fifteen pounds in three days. So I figured if the accumulator is therapy for cancer, it should be therapy for the after-effects of junk sickness.

  Accumulators are manufactured by the Orgone Institute in New York. They do not sell or rent accumulators. They allow you to use one if you contribute ten dollars per month to the Orgone Institute. I sent three months’ contribution in advance and asked them to express collect me an accumulator. They sent back three forms to be filled out and signed. One was a we-are-not-­responsible-for-anything affidavit. There was a pledge for me to sign that I would not let anyone else use my accumulator and would report to the Institute if I saw anyone building an accumulator, and a questionnaire to be filled out by my physician what was wrong with me and why did I need an accumulator. I did not want to explain about orgones to some croaker who would take me for a lunatic. Besides, I did not like the way the Orgone people were coming on. Why say “contributions” when you mean rent? And the pledge was ridiculous. So I wrote them to send my money back and here are your forms.

  I bought sheet metal, wood and a roll of rock wool, and built an accumulator about the size and shape of a small outhouse. I located it outside (it was not movable), so it would get all the orgones available. Constant use of junk over a period of years has given me the habit of directing attention inward. When I went into the accumulator and sat down I noticed a special silence that you sometimes feel in deep woods, sometimes on a city street, a hum that is more a rhythmic vibration than a sound. My skin prickled and I experienced an aphrodisiac effect similar to good strong weed. No doubt about it, orgones are as definite a force as electricity. After using the accumulator for several days my energy came back to normal. I began to eat, and could not sleep more than eight hours. I was out of the post cure drag. I bought some books on pharmacology to find out what I could about allergy, shock and the antihistamine drugs.