History Repeats, April. 1975: Toronto, ON

As we approached the bridge going over the Detroit River to Windsor Ontario, I felt a tinge of anxiety crossing an international border walking. It seemed customary to either have a vehicle or use public transportation. I had witnessed folks being turned away based solely their appearance and lack of suitable funds. I was not sure about our qualifications on these counts. Before my fears could materialize, a small pickup pulled over to offer us a ride across the bridge. The driver was a bonded hauler who spent his days transporting shipping containers back and forth across the boundary. He must have picked up on my anxiety since he immediately offered that riding with him, thru the shipping customs point, would subject us to only a cursory examination. He was correct, since the Customs Official only asked were we bringing any contraband with us. Immediately, feeling the small pinch of illegal substance lining my pocket, “Of course not,” I lied. We were let on our way.

In Toronto, We separated. Esperanza went to visit an old boyfriend, I to see Liz, an old girlfriend. I arrived at her house and found a package waiting for me. The mushroom tapestry, I had shipped to myself from Adel, GA had arrived before me in good shape. I immediately set the package out and offered some to any takers. Alan and Wayne stepped forward and gratefully snatched a handful. After ingesting a few and, despite my warnings, downed them with beer. Within minutes, they decided they needed to drive away. Again, I protested, but to no heed. They got into their work truck and left. No sooner than the remainder of us sat down to breakfast, did Allan and Wayne show up at the front door howling in laughter. They returned without their vehicle. I took a hike to retrieve it.
Down the street at a traffic light, a scene resembling the one I witnessed two days previous repeated. Their truck was patiently waiting at a red light, engine running, doors open and music blaring. This time, there was a small crowd, looking on in a puzzled manner. I explained, “My friends got caught up in the Rapture, and I am getting their truck.” I got away before receiving a response. It turned out this vehicle was one I previously owned and traded away to settle a debt before I beginning my road adventure. Returning to the house, We settled down to spend a day without work responsibilities. I pondered what to do with this load of mushrooms. It seemed to be causing trouble away from its native environment.
I called Esperanza and we agreed to head back to the States in two days. I would quickly have to dispose of my mushroom tapestry that was turning into a burden. Someone had a friend who had a friend who expressed interest in my holdings. Somewhere in the Beaches area, I met that Someone. In a darken well appointed office space we worked a deal. He took my mushrooms, I left with a pocket full of colorful Canadian money, a small hash oil joint and two small microdots. I never felt right about exchanging money for mushrooms. It seemed I was treading on something Sacred. This notion would haunt me and eventually bear sour fruit. I contacted Esperanza and we agreed to leave the next morning.

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