Wayne loved the Cuba runs. Wayne ate Dexedrine. Wayne notched seven run-notches. Dick Wenzel played skipper. Pete made two runs. Flash and Laurent made seven.
They got close. They dropped guns off. They shot inland. They torched huts. They scalped Fidelistos. They saved the scalps. They drycured them. They burned on their initials. They tallied them. They nailed them up. They served as boat decorations.
Wayne had sixteen scalps. Flash had twelve scalps. Laurent and Pete had nine each. Pete craved more. Pete craved escalation.
The war escalated. Their crops escalated. White horse escalated konkurrent. Mesplиde ran Tiger Kamp solo. Mesplиde brought in reinforcements.
Chuck was dead. Tran was dead. Pete was stateside. Laurent was stateside. Flash was stateside. Wayne was on rotation. Mesplиde needed help. Mesplиde bought more Marvs. Mesplиde bought some Can Lao goons. They backstopped him. They ran the slaves. They surveilled the chemists.
Wayne knew the Tran story. Pete told him late. Pete said it's all kool. Mr. Kao's boys _rent_ the lab. They work there on _your_ rotations, It's kosher. Goons guard _your_ lab. Said goons pay tribute to Stanton.
The war escalated. Big troop stats swelled through '66. Kao escalated. Kao pushed horse in France. Kao pushed horse in Saigon.
To slants only. No round-eyes. No GI biz.
Kao formed a dope squad. It was all Can Lao and all klandestine. They swarmed Saigon. They trashed "O" dens. They made them horse pads.
They ran said pads. They sold horse. They kept said pads klean. They scrubbed floors and swabbed spikes.
Kao had his fiefdom. Kao had export and Saigon. The kadre had Vegas.
They shared lab space. They shared vats. They shared guinea pigs. Junkies swarmed the Go-Go. Junkies geezed upstairs. Kao's chemists _used_ them. They brewed new formulas. They tested dosages. They notched fatalities.
Wayne rotated east. Wayne saw the war grow. Wayne saw horse grow konkurrent. Wayne rotated west. Wayne saw the war grow-every night on TV.
Barb saw the war. Barb loathed the war. Barb watched the war on TV. There's Barb. She's in Da Nang. She scores this white powder.
She toured Da Nang. She saw the maimed. She saw Pete fucked up. She dug pills. She craved more. She found it. She found horse. She sniffed horse. She disproved Pete's assertion: We control horse/we contain horse/all whites verboten.
Barb flew home. Barb brought hospital snapshots. Barb watched the war on TV.
She had Pete full-time. She loved it. Pete loves the war. Barb hates the war. Barb sparks _their_ war for real.
She ragged the war. She talked antiwar shit. She rode horseback.
She took tastes. It went up her nose. It went there under Pete's eyes. She scored horse. She disproved Pete. She disproved containment.
Small tastes. No arc up to skin pops. No mainline spikes.
Wayne knew she did it. Pete didn't. Wayne looked at her closer. Wayne loved her long-distance. Wayne lived to WATCH.
He watched in Vegas. He watched in L.A. He watched in Vietnam. The war escalated. The war was the Life uncontained.
Pete was wrong. We couldn't win. We couldn't force containment. Pete was wrong. White horse would reign. White horse would smash containment. Barb proved him wrong. GIs would follow her. White horse would reign uncontained.
Wayne watched the war. Wayne read body counts. Wayne prowled dope galleries. Wayne logged rumors.
More troops were pledged. That meant more bomb runs. That meant more ground expansion.
Mr. Kao expanded. Mr. Kao bombed Ba Na Key. Dope fields burned. Mr. Kao's Laotian rivals de-expanded.
Stanton said Kao's kool. Kao won't fuck us. We're localized. We're selfcontained. We're fine in West Vegas.
Wayne and Pete knew otherwise. Wayne and Pete knew this:
We're _too_ localized/we're _too_ contained/we're hamstrung in West Vegas.
Wayne pressed Pete. Wayne pressed the case. Let's press Stanton. Let's press Carlos. Let's tell them this: Let's push white horse in L.A.
Pete said, "Don't shuck me." Pete said, "It's about Wendell Durfee." Pete knew him. Pete knew his shit. Pete knew his dreams.
Bongo/King Arthur/Cassius Cool/black faces/white backdrops/white sheets. Cur-ti and Leroy. Otis Swasey. The dead whore/her trailer/the ball in her teeth.
The dreams reran. The dreams dredged Wayne Senior. It was dream clockwork. Dream and wake. Father Rabbit's there on your pillow.
The dreams recycled. The dreams reran. The dreams ran in rotation.
Rotate east-see Bongo-you killed him there. Rotate west-see black faces-you found them there. Rotate south-see new faces-they lynch that type there.
White sheets. Klan sheets. Bob Relyea-Wild Rabbit.
Bob tweaked him. Bob told him: Your daddy loves you. He misses you. He told me so. He digs on you. He's Daddy Rabbit. He's hip. He's cool. He funds my Klan. We fight mail fraud. We help Mr. Hoover.
We hate smart. We contain. We consolidate. We fuck the bad haters. We spread the good hate.
Dreams. Reruns. Rotations.
Sleep on planes-crash time zones-see faces. Hate smart. Consolidate. Hail Father Rabbit!
The dreams reran. The concept held. The gist accrued: He needs you. He sees you. He _wants_ you.
91
(Las Vegas, Bay St. Louis, Cuban Waters, 4/1/66-10/30/66)
Wars:
The real war. The TV war. Barb's running fire.
They watch the news. He comments. He says we'll win. Barb says we shouldn't. Barb says we can't and we won't.
He says I've _been_ there. He says I _know_. _She_ says _I've_ been there. She says _I_ know. They escalate. They debate control. They debate containment. TV wars-parlor shit-sniper attacks.
It raged. It escalated. It stopped. Barb nuked him. Barb won.
She said, "Nobody's controlling the war, and you don't control the dope traffic, because _I_ met a doctor in Da Nang, and _he_ sends _me_ little tastes, and I boot them when I get bored to death or afraid that you'll fall off a fucking boat in the fucking Cuban sea."
He flipped out. He threw shit. He taxed out his heart. He tossed chairs. He broke windows. He chucked the TV out. One hoist-two hundred pounds airborne. One badass heart-patient trick.
The TV flew. The TV dropped fourteen stories. The TV dive-bombed a blue Ford.
He raged. His veins throbbed. His pump swelled. He crashed. He divebombed the couch. Barb talked up a truce.
I'm no junkie. I sniff it. I taste it. I never shoot up. I hate your work. I hate the war-it covers you.
He tried to fight. He gobbled air. His pump puttered and slogged. Barb held his hands. Barb held the cat. Barb talked _trиs_ slow.
I hate your work. I hate the Life. I hate Vegas now. We'll ride it out. We'll survive it. We'll win.
They made up. He got calm. He got some back-end wind. They made love. They wrecked the couch. The cat refereed.
Shit got said. Shit got aired. Shit went unsaid. No vows of abstinence/no vows to stop/no vows to change.
Truce.
They split the Stardust. They moved into the Cavern. They bought a new TV. Barb watched the war. Barb sulked and judged. He worked the biz. He ran dope. He ran guns.
Barb worked the Cavern. Barb wore go-go gowns. Barb showed off skin-plus. Dig it: No pinholes/no bruises/no tracks.
Truce.
They lived. They made love. He traveled. Barb flew then. He knew it. Barb flew White Powder Air.
They lived the truce. He nailed the Shit Clause:
Barb was right-the war was fucked-we couldn't win. Barb was right-they had big love-they'd stick and win. Barb was wrong-white horse had teeth-white horse bit to win.
White flag/ceasefire/truce.
He conceded points. He owed Barb. He brought her to Dallas. The truce held. The clause held. The ink ran.