The 1960’s were a historic era of cultural and political upheaval worldwide, and Los Angeles along with San Francisco were at the west coast epicenters. The 1970s amped the Vibe; from the grit of L.A, and glitz of Hollywood, to the sunny beach-lined communities north and south of the Los Angeles International Airport.
There was a thriving evolution of new ways to live, to expand one’s mind, and new ways to do business. And one of the rising big businesses was within the Drug Culture. The times were ripe for anyone to grab the reins and take hold of whatever they could. All ideas, trends, and concepts if not new, were brought forward from the past to be celebrated. With these near daily new enterprises and concepts came great ideas implemented for the good and some for the bad.
William Trent, a young private investigator, maintains his office and living space above the garages of an adjacent apartment building in the “Ghost Town” area of Venice, California. Will’s office was open for anyone who needed his services.
Will was experienced in both deductive reasoning and altered states of consciousness. He had taken nearly every drug, hallucinogen, and psychotropic known, and used those experience’s benefits to become successful enough to hold down his own one man investigation business.
There was much to be said for certain stoners’ abilities to use their clouded stoned appearance to actually gain detailed insight on those who momentarily let their guard down due to thinking that they were dealing with just another stoned Hippie.
Tonight’s 1971 Episode: “Out Of Body, Out Of Mind”
The sun had set, darkness took over.
Street lights came and went on Wilshire Boulevard as William Trent, the Stoned Private Eye, took a drag on a cigarette-sized joint, as he headed home after closing another case.
Home was his standalone apartment/office above garages in Venice. He liked his place, the rent was good, the functionality was perfect, and he had a great view – the only drawback was that it was on the outskirts of Ghost Town, a notorious crime area dominated by the Black and Mexican gangs.
Will had made peace with the denizens of Ghost Town by offering free services that didn’t involve crime or violence, and early on these free cases helped hone his craft.
When presented with his first professional case he used that acquired knowledge with the assist of psychedelics, fine deductive reasoning, and the ability to sense a vibe to solve the case.
He advertised in the L.A. Free Press, and took an ad out in the telephone book’s Yellow Pages.
After successful solved cases within a cross-section of society over a two year period, Will’s business no longer needed advertisements as “word of mouth” clients kept him busy.
Around that time he became known in certain circles as The Stoned Private Eye; the reason was simple, Will did some of his best work while tripping on psychedelics, and joints were like cigarettes to him.
As he pulled into his back alley parking area, he saw the now familiar flashing lights from a police car bouncing off the walls of the homes and businesses at the other end of the alley.
Will backed-in his parking space, and as he climbed his rickety but sturdy stairs he admired the placement he had made of a mirror at the top of the stairs under the eave. From his desk inside he had a perfect view of the stairs and the garage area.
Will was stoked that he solved his latest case in time as he had a ticket for the next day, Sunday June 14th, to see The Who live at Anaheim Stadium. He and his seven Rock Fiend friends in a two car caravan were totally privileged to be able to see, hear, rock. and experience The Who.
The Who performed on a raised stage at home plate, Will and friends literally staked-out third base with a flag ninety feet from the stage, but they were miles high as they all took Double Dome or White Lightning LSD, or both. It was as if the whole stadium was apart from this world and the Who’s sound was the energy that powered their wedge of the world and charged their bodies and minds. It was the first and last concert Will went to where everyone was high on LSD – everyone.
Will was so jacked and high from the incredible feelings of empowerment, of virility, of life – the power of Rock ‘n’ Roll – that he decided to never let those feelings go, never let them fade away, to always remember those feelings for as long as he lived.
Will’s introspection and self-improvements were honed on LSD and other mind-altering psychedelics; for at some point in the trip the real Will would stand before him with questions, hard questions. And honest answers showed ways to prioritize and eliminate those things that hindered his progress.
People who don’t know what they want to do with their lives, which career to pursue, what path to take, all have a choice. People who are given a gift, can see it as a blessing or a curse, but none of them have a choice.
It took a long time before Will realized that people did not see the world the way he did. He saw and experienced everything just as everyone else did, but from a different angle, not visually, but, creatively, in thought and perception, like seeing past the obvious and then past that.
After a great apres-concert celebration and group Hashish smoke-out at one of the Rock Fiend’s pads in the L.A.X. area, Will had to jam as he had a client to meet first thing in the morning.
On the short drive to Venice Will cranked up the Who’s “Live at Leeds” cassette and rocked all the way home.
After smoking a morning bowl and somewhat still psychedelicized from the previous day and night’s rockin’ festivities, Will sat awaiting a hot cup of coffee at The Grotto, a small restaurant in the Marina. He checked his watch, he was early for his meeting with Roy Archer, a friend of a past client.
Will thanked the waitress as she set his mug of coffee on the table.
After sipping the hot coffee, Will looked up to see a man scanning the Grotto for Will.
Will stood and waved him over. They shook hands and sat down.
Mr. Archer: “Thanks for meeting with me Mr. Trent.”
Will: “What can I do for you Mr. Archer.”
As Archer spoke, Will assessed his vibe; this was a guy who just claimed that he had an OOBE, an Out Of Body Experience, and was visibly shaken by it, because while in that state, he saw a murder, or attempted murder.
Will: “What caused, . . . have you had any recent trauma?”
Archer: “No, nothing, I was at home, and I felt weird and sat down and as I closed my eyes I felt myself get up but I was still in the chair, then I was walking down a street, no one was around, and I heard a scream, and when I looked down an alley to see where the scream came from I saw a man strangling a woman until she went limp, I couldn’t move, I froze, he just looked at me and gave me an evil grin and pointed at me, and then ran away. I walked toward the dead woman, only she wasn’t dead, she was choking and coughing, and when I went to help her I looked around and I was still in my chair.”
Will: “You could have dozed off. What makes you think that this was something other than a vivid dream?”
Archer: “This wasn’t my first OOBE experience, I’ve had a few, but not like this.”
Will: “What made this one different?”
Archer: “Because I saw him, yesterday on the bluffs, he’s real.”
Will’s read on Archer was strong, not only was he telling the truth, but he had a weird vibe, not of a psychic, but of a sensitive, one who like Will can sense a vibe, only with Archer it’s in the form of an OOBE, with Will, a connection.
Will: “I’m not sure what you want me to do.”
Archer: “I heard you dealt with these kinds of cases, so I need you to stop this guy, he knows who I am.”
Will fears his quick rise to underground P.I. notoriety came with tales bordering on the supernatural, when in the end it was just deduction, action, and a little cosmic knowledge.
Will understands different states of consciousness can be as real, if not more than real, on some levels. For Archer this was all too real.
This “case” was interesting but Will realized that Archer needed to speak with someone whose specialty was how to approach what at the time was considered lunacy.
Will got it, but even with the ever expanding raising of consciousness of society as a whole, there was a stigma attached to the whole Counter-Culture extremists that in turn trivialized the realities of cosmic concepts for the masses.
Will actually saw this disregard as a natural safeguard, a filter that kept Occult (hidden knowledge) where it belonged; among those that held respect for the possibilities given.
And for those reasons Will took Archer’s case.
After moving the conversation to Will’s office and going over all of the details Will decided that they should literally cut to the chase and set Archer up for bait, and see what happens.
Although Archer was not too keen on the idea, Will assured him that he would be right there, he needed proof that this was real, and if so, to end it.
Mr. Archer knew he would never get this far with anyone else and wisely agreed.
That night Will met Mr. Archer near where he saw the Strangler, it was on the bluffs in Santa Monica, high above Pacific Coast Highway overlooking the Santa Monica Pier.
The plan was for Mr. Archer to walk one end of the bluff, that being south to the pier, and then return with Will shadowing him undetected.
They waited until dusk turned to night and began the walk. As they got closer to the pier Will began to consider that even if true, it could be tonight, or any night, or day, for anything to happen.
The closer to the pier, the more people were walking around enjoying the bluff’s palm tree-filled park-like “strand” and the view.
Will hung back as Mr. Archer made his turn back-tracking to the car. Will waited as Mr. Archer passed him by while eyeing everyone within view, then he leaned forward from the pole he was leaning against and continued shadowing Mr. Archer.
A few blocks before the end and near where their cars were parked, the palm-tree lined bluff took on a spooky look, just then Will got a chill and a man rushed Mr. Archer from out of nowhere, took him down and began to strangle him but Will dove in and pulled him off.
As they rolled, Will grabbed on to the Man’s coat. The Man just pulled himself from out of the coat, looked at Will with an evil grin, pointed at him, and like an animal, dove off the bluff into the heavy vegetation.
Will stood up holding the coat, and looked down over the bluff: “What was that?”
Mr. Archer comes up from behind: “That was proof.”
It was rare to have another level, dimension, reality, whatever one calls it, bleed into this reality, but people experience that nearly every night in their dreams. A normal reality disrupted by fantastic tales of limitless realities.
But why would an encounter during an out of body experience manifest into reality?
There had to be an explanation, because for Will, even with a foot in two worlds, they never crossed, they touched, but they never crossed.
Will took the license from the wallet of the coat the Strangler left behind and ran it straight over to his connection at the local police department; Will’s past tips had earned his guy points in the department. Will waited for the results which came back quickly. The coat and credentials were from a dead man.
Will was on an uphill learning curve with this case that now seemed like a rollercoaster ride that could plunge to its depths at any moment.
Will needed to stop the cosmic stuff and look at this like the Stoned Private Eye would.
He was sitting with strong evidence of the possibility of a corporeal manifestation triggered by an OOBE, a dream manifestation, or the dead coming back to life.
Or Mr. Archer was wrong, and he didn’t have an out of body experience but a premonition. Will deduced that a premonition as being the most probable.
Will convinced Mr. Archer that if it were a premonition, that with his help they might still be able to save her, and even solve the mystery.
It is said that the brain’s capacity in its fully operative state would be able to literally move mountains, and as far as memory storage – limitless. Therefore, there exists a very probable theory that one’s brain remembers everything. It has logged every second of one’s life, and everything surrounding those seconds; the environment, weather, time of day, mental state, clothes worn, and so on.
Will went to his car and returned with his trusty shiny pocket watch to hypnotize Mr. Archer in hopes of getting him to remember specifics of the area where he saw the woman attacked.
He realized that Mr. Archer’s altered-state visuals were probably framed in fog. Like most dreams, hallucinations, OOBE’s, premonitions, NDE’s (Near Death Experiences), and most memories for that matter, the peripherals of what is being experienced seems to fade to the degree that only the primary images are “seen”. However, even in those states the mind sees all, remembers all, senses all, it just has to be tapped.
Will’s pocket watch did the trick; Mr. Archer’s revisit of the crime scene revealed the entire picture which directed them not only to the place – in the alley across from the TrustUS Bank off Wilshire Boulevard, but at the time it would take place – the bank had a time and temp electronic readout under the bank’s logo; the time was 10:32, the temp was 64 degrees.
Mr. Archer was hyped, his latent memory had just given them solid clues, now they needed to know the date.
Will had to throw out all of his past theories as there was only one real theory; Mr. Archer “saw” an attempted murder and the suspect, the Strangler, was real, on the loose and probably not dead, but deadly, and there was a woman in danger.
Will told Mr. Archer to follow him to the alley off Wilshire Boulevard. They both got in their cars, drove up Wilshire, pulled over and parked a street down from the alley.
It was 9:45 PM, they had a forty-five minute wait to see if any women approached the area.
Will to Mr. Archer, now in Will’s car: “Does the name Frank Sands ring a bell?”
Archer: “No, why?”
Will: “That’s the name of the Strangler, or he was wearing Sand’s coat.
Will’s balance of the real and the unreal was being tested; the power of deduction and reason was strong but so was his knowledge of the power of the cosmic.
Will had finally reached the point of understanding whereby he believed in everything, well that’s not true, he believed that everything existed; all religions, myths, gods, histories, geographies, dimensions, stories, idols, animals, minerals, and vegetables and anything imaginable. No one on this plane of existence has the ability, insight, or right, to say what is or isn’t.
Once everything is accepted as a possibility then there is no doubt, no need for debate about that what has been, is, or will be.
Will knew that premonitions on grander scales could take years or decades to come to pass, but that personal, emotional ones usually come to pass quickly, at the height of their energy, and of their emotion.
Will felt that tonight was the night, the night that the energy was the strongest.
Archer, as he points across the street: “Look.”
A group of five women were walking up the block to a parking structure.
Two of the women got in a car parked on the street and waved goodbye to their other three friends.
The threesome walked to the edge of the alley, said goodbye to their friend, and continued on up the block as their friend entered the alley.
Will looked at the time and temp; it was 10:31. He got out of the car and sprinted across the street as did Mr. Archer.
The woman continued to the parking structure’s entrance.
Just as Will rounded the corner of the alley he saw the Strangler, much like Mr. Archer described, choking the woman to death, only Will didn’t freeze, he ran straight for the Strangler while screaming like a wild animal thus quickly getting his attention.
The Strangler looked surprised and dropped the woman, turned and ran, then looked back and with an evil grin pointed at Will.
But then something unexpected happened, when the Strangler turned back to continue running he tripped and fell head first into a dumpster.
Will, seeing that the woman was coughing but alive, started to run toward the Strangler when Mr. Archer stepped out from behind a dumpster.
Will ran up to see an unconscious Strangler and an out of breath beaming Mr. Archer.
Archer: “I remembered which store was down from the attack, I tore through there, out the back, and boom!”
Mr. Archer calls an ambulance for the woman and the cops for the Strangler using the payphone at the end of the alley.
Will handcuffed the Strangler to a dumpster using a spare set he kept in his car.
The Strangler was not the undead, the blood that ran down his face from head-butting the dumpster was red.
Mr. Archer pointed out the woman and the Strangler to the ambulance driver, and to avoid having to answer questions when the cops arrived, Will and Mr. Archer slipped around the corner got in their cars and met back at Will’s.
————————————————————
Mr. Archer didn’t get high, he never had, he was an accountant at a law firm and never had the opportunity presented to him. Will changed that.
There was a myth of sorts that the first time one gets high they don’t really feel it. That would be the case if they didn’t inhale. If you inhaled, you got high every time, including the “first time”, especially the first time.
Will told Mr. Archer to inhale and hold it in his lungs and then slowly exhale to prevent from coughing. Mr. Archer was a quick learner and was allowing the restrictions of his position in society to be put on hold to enjoy these glorious moments of a freedom and exhilaration he had never known.
Once they were both sufficiently high, Will told Mr. Archer: “I’ll find out who the Strangler is, and his relationship with the woman, my local guy will be able to give me that info.”
Mr. Archer is too stoned to continue with the charade: “No need, I know who he is.”
Will looks at him in the most surprised look he could muster with his eyes going from mere slits to half open: “Wha’ ?”
Archer: “I wasn’t sure, which is why I hired you, everything I told you was true, except one thing.”
Will waits: “And that is?”
Archer: “That while I now see that what I thought was an out of body experience was really a premonition of the immediate future, and . . .”
Will getting impatient: “And?”
Archer: “And I knew who the Strangler was, and I guess he knew who I was.”
Will, impatient: “Because?”
Archer: “He was the coke-head husband of the woman I was having an affair with.”
Will, now wide-eyed: “What?”
Archer: “You see, I wasn’t sure, it could’ve been her speed-freak boyfriend.”
With that response Will just looks at Mr. Archer and is speechless.
Archer: “Hey, I may look unassuming, but the ladies, they like “The Archer”, what can I say, except, can I get some of this Marijuana Weed from you?”
.
Copyright 2018 00individual TLL
Written spontaneously over a few hours during August 9 – August 12, 2018 with only The Stoned Private Eye, An OOBE, The 1970’s, and a Noir Vibe as inspiration.
THE STONED PRIVATE EYE 