|When one smokes marijuana,
one’s eyes become bloodshot,
one’s appetite increases,
one’s mouth becomes dry,
and one becomes mildly euphoric.
To eliminate the redness, use eye drops.
To eliminate the increase in appetite, have a healthy, nutritious
To eliminate the dryness of the mouth, drink some pure, cool water.
To eliminate the mild euphoria, scrutinize the government.
at Max Yasger’s Farm, Bethel, NY,
August 16, 1969
She took a deep breath, climbed out of the Ford,
locked it, and began her unsteady trek back across the lot. She felt
worse than ever. If she couldn’t get a little gin into her, she knew
this was going to turn into a migraine. She began to panic. Just
hold on another ten minutes, she thought. She clutched her purse as
if it was the only thing holding her up, and went on.
The boom-boom-boom continued.
Suddenly, something slammed into her, knocking her
to the ground. It seemed like someone had tried to grab her purse,
but she had been clinging to it too tightly and it went to the
ground with her.
Two of the boys she had seen in the other car were
over her, reaching for her purse. Their faces were masks of evil,
expressions that put terror into her soul with their intensity and
She tried to scream but the breath had been knocked
out of her. She curled up, both arms pulling the purse close,
protecting her solar plexus.
“Give it up, bitch!” one of the thugs hissed.
“Now, or we’ll fucking kill you!” the other growled.
It’s just a purse, that voice inside her
said, while she resisted losing anything else. First Edwin, then the
car accident, now this…it was too much too bear.
The boys hovered over her in slow motion. Her heart
pounded and, in spite of her pain, she felt surprise at the way her
adrenaline rush seemed to make time stop. She wondered if she could
get up and run into the safety of the store.
But before she could make a move, a blur in purple
suddenly came into her field of vision. A leg pumped through the
air, smashing the side of one boy’s knee. He screamed as it
shattered, and his leg folded grotesquely beneath him.
The other boy started toward the new threat but,
before he could complete the turn, the purple blur spun, a hand
flashed, chopping the boy’s throat, and a knee jerked into his
Both attackers writhed on the pavement, moaning.
To Faye’s astonishment, the purple blur solidified
into Marian Higgins, the woman from the pool!
“Are you all right, darling?” she asked, helping
Faye to her feet. “Did they hurt you?”
Faye shook her head, but couldn’t yet speak. Out of
the corner of her eye, she saw one of the boys roll to his feet,
struggling desperately to remove something from the front pocket of
his ridiculously oversized jeans.
Faye gathered what was left of her strength and
threw herself on him, knocking them both to the ground. There was a
sudden explosion right under her, and she thought she had been shot!
In a panic, she looked downward and saw that the thug’s toes had
been blown off his right foot.
Suddenly, there were footsteps, and shouting, and
store clerk uniforms, and a big, burly man yanking the other boy to
his remaining good leg, and a distant voice saying, “Thank you
darling, you can let him go, now! Let go, dear. Let go.”
Faye released him and allowed herself to be helped
to her feet. The boy’s foot was a mass of red, reminding her of
Edwin’s head when he shot himself. Shaking, she suddenly filled her
aching chest with air, and gasped, and sobbed. Marian patted her on
the back and held her comfortingly.
A few minutes later, a police car arrived, followed
by an ambulance. Faye still had trouble speaking and was disturbed
by the blood she knew was drying on her stockings and skirt.
Fortunately, Marian was still there, and told the police what had
happened. It seems Marian had pulled into the parking lot just
before Faye got out of her car, and had seen the two young men leap
from theirs and attack her. Their accomplice, driving the
boom-boom-boom car, had peeled away when Marian caught up to the two
attackers and downed them. “However, I did note his license number,”
she added helpfully, reciting it to the astonished officer who wrote
The other police officer looked at Marian’s petite
frame and asked, “How in the world did you take these punks? You
can’t weigh more than a hundred ten!”
“Kung fu, darling,” she replied. “I learned it in
the seventies and I keep in practice. You fellas can’t be
everywhere!” She pointed to her T-Shirt and the words that were
emblazoned across the front: Take Care of Yourself. No One Else