‘ Don’t you ever name him that way. You haven’t seen enough of him yet to know him.’
‘How does Mescalito protect people?’ ‘He advises. He answers whatever questions you ask.” ‘Then Mescalito is real? I mean he is something you can see?’ He seemed to be baffled by my question. He looked at me with a sort of blank expression.
‘ What I meant to say, is that Mescalito …’ ‘I heard what you said. Didn’t you see him last night?’ I wanted to say that I saw only a dog, but I noticed his bewildered look.
‘ Then you think what I saw last night was him?’ He looked at me with contempt. He chuckled, shook his head as though he couldn’t believe it, and in a very belligerent tone he added, ‘A poco crees que era tu – mama [Don’t tell me you believe it was your – mama] ?’ He paused before saying ‘mama’ because what he meant to say was ‘tu chingada madre’, an idiom used as a disrespectful allusion to the other party’s mother. The word ‘mama’ was so incongruous that we both laughed for a long time.
Then I realized he had fallen asleep and had not answered my question.
Sunday, 6 August 1961
I drove don Juan to the house where I had taken peyote. On the way he told me that the name of the man who had ‘offered me to Mescalito’ was John. When we got to the house we found John sitting on his porch with two young men. All of them were extremely jovial. They laughed and talked with great ease. The three of them spoke English perfectly. I told John that I had come to thank him for having helped me.
I wanted to get their views on my behaviour during the hallucinogenic experience, and told them I had been trying to think of what I had done that night and that I couldn’t remember. They laughed and were reluctant to talk about it. They seemed to be holding back on account of don Juan. They all glanced at him as though waiting for an affirmative cue to go on. Don Juan must have cued them, although I did not notice anything, because suddenly John began to tell me what I had done that night.
He said he knew I had been ‘ taken’ when he heard me puking. He estimated that I must have puked thirty times. Don Juan corrected him and said it was only ten times.
John continued: ‘ Then we all moved next to you. You were stiff, and were having convulsions. For a very long time, while lying on your back, you moved your mouth as though talking. Then you began to bump your head on the floor, and don Juan put an old hat on your head and you stopped it. You shivered and whined for hours, lying on the floor. I think everybody fell asleep then; but I heard you puffing and groaning in my sleep. Then I heard you scream and I woke up. I saw you leaping up in the air, screaming. You made a dash for the water, knocked the pan over, and began to swim in the puddle.
‘Don Juan brought you more water. You sat quietly in front of the pan. Then you jumped up and took off all your clothes. You were kneeling in front of the water, drinking in big gulps. Then you just sat there and stared into space. We thought you were going to be there forever. Nearly everybody was asleep, including don Juan, when suddenly you jumped up again, howling, and took after the dog. The dog got scared and howled too, and ran to the back of the house. Then everybody woke up.
‘We all got up. You came back from the other side still chasing the dog. The dog was running ahead of you barking and howling. I think you must have gone twenty times around the house, running in circles, barking like a dog. I was afraid people were going to be curious. There are no neighbours close, but your howling was so loud it could have been heard for miles.’
One of the young men added, ‘You caught up with the doe and brought it to the porch in your arms.’
John continued: ‘Then you began to play with the dog. You wrestled with him, and the dog and you bit each other and played. That, I thought, was funny. My dog does not play usually. But this time you and the dog were rolling on each other.’
‘Then you ran to the water and the dog drank with you,’ the young man said. ‘You ran five or six times to the water with the dog.’
‘How long did this go on?’ I asked.
‘Hours,’ John said. ‘At one time we lost sight of you two. I think you must have run to the back. We just heard you barking and groaning. You sounded so much like a dog that we couldn’t tell you two apart.’
‘Maybe it was just the dog alone,’ I said.
They laughed, and John said,’ You were barking there, boy! *
‘What happened next?’
The three men looked at one another and seemed to have a hard time deciding what happened next. Finally the young man who had nor yet said anything spoke up.
‘He choked,’ he said, looking at John.
‘Yes, you certainly choked. You began to cry very strangely, and then you fell to the floor. We thought you were biting your tongue; don Juan opened your jaws and poured water on your face. Then you started shivering and having convulsions all over again. Then you stayed motionless for a long time. Don Juan said it was all over. By then it was morning, so we covered you with a blanket and left you to sleep on the porch.’
He stopped there and looked at the other men who were obviously trying not to laugh. He turned to don Juan and asked him something. Don Juan smiled and answered the question. John turned to me and said, ‘We left you here on the porch because we were afraid you were going to piss all over the rooms.’
They all laughed very loudly.
‘What was the matter with me?” I asked. ‘Did I…’
‘Did you?’ John sort of mimicked me. ‘We were not going to mention it, but don Juan says it is all right. You pissed all over my dog!’
‘What did I do?’
‘You don’t think the dog was running because he was afraid of you, do you? The dog was running because you were pissing on him.’
There was general laughter at this point. I tried to question one of the young men, but they were all laughing and he didn’t hear me.
John went on: ‘My dog got even though; he pissed on you too!’
This statement was apparently utterly funny because they all roared with laughter, including don Juan. When they had quieted down, I asked in all earnestness, ‘Is it really true? This really happened ?’
Still laughing, John replied: ‘I swear my dog really pissed on you.’
Driving back to don Juan’s place I asked him: ‘Did all that really happen, don Juan?’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but they don’t know what you saw. They don’t realize you were playing with “him”. That is why I did not disturb you.’
‘But is this business of the dog and me pissing on each other true?’
‘ It was not a dog! How many times do I have to tell you that? This is the only way to understand it. It’s the only way! It was “he” who played with you.”
‘Did you know all this was happening before I told you about it?’
He vacillated for an instant before answering.
‘No, I remembered, after you told me about it, the strange way you looked. I just suspected you were doing fine because you didn’t seem scared.’
‘Did the dog really play with me as they say?’
‘ Goddammit! It was not a dog!’
Thursday, 17 August 1961
I told don Juan how I felt about my experience. From the point of view of my intended work it had been a disastrous event. I said I did not care for another similar ‘encounter’ with Mescalito. I agreed that everything that had happened to me had been more than interesting, but added that nothing in it could really move me towards seeking it again. I seriously believed that I was not constructed for that type of endeavour. Peyote had produced in me, as a post-reaction, a strange kind of physical discomfort. It was an indefinite fear or unhappiness; a melancholy of some sort, which I could not define exactly. And I did not find that state noble in any way.
Don Juan laughed and said, ‘You are beginning to learn.’
‘This type of learning is not for me. I am not made for it, don Juan.’ *-.