The Sunshine Makers Page #8

---

was one of them

in my view mirror

and I thought, oh, shoot.

I said,

"OK, we've been made."

They knew

what they were doing.

They weren't easy to follow.

I said,

"drive over to Mill Valley."

And we parked behind

a row of cedars.

We would see the same car

driving up, driving back.

They did their tricks.

We did our tricks.

It came down to a matter

of who did their tricks better.

I had

a sense of their timing.

And soon as they passed

going to the right,

I said, "get out of here."

Go left. Make your first right.

Make your second left.

"Make your second right."

We just had

to go all those little

residential areas

and go shh, shh, shh, shh.

Get

us over the mountain.

And we got up there.

"And I said," wow, we're clean.

We got away. Now we just have to

figure out where to go from here."

I had heard

that Nick had vanished.

"I told all my friends," if you

hear from Nick,

please don't tell me where

he is or what he's doing,"

because I really don't

want to know.

I didn't want to be part

of whatever...

the next conspiracy might be.

My mother and my girlfriend

at the time drove me up,

and I took the ferry

across to the prison.

What I told myself

was that if all else failed,

I'd figure out how to escape

if I couldn't stand it.

But I thought I'd figure

out a way of doing the time.

Well

the plan was to drive

to Oregon and Washington

until Nick

was able to walk over

into Canada.

He certainly didn't go to sleep.

I think we just

drove the whole time.

We went

up on the most obscure route

you could say, all the way through

the forest for hundreds of miles,

up the Olympic peninsula.

After a few days journey, I

got some halfway decent ID.

Nick Sand was gone.

I went and bought a fishing rod

lures, weights, tackle box.

Now I could make my escape.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning, sir.

When

I reached Canada,

a little white-haired

bouncy immigration

officer said, "and what is the

purpose of your visit, sir?"

I had my pole and my tackle

box and my fishing jacket on.

And I said, "come on."

You got to be kidding."

He said, "go on.

Have a great time."

I ran the fugitive

investigation on it

for awhile.

But we had no leads.

You know, the man had

had numerous names

and traveled all over the world.

We'd hear reports

of possible sightings.

But I don't recall that

we even came close.

So I disappeared

and continued my mission.

I lived as a fugitive in Canada.

And I carried on

making psychedelics

for the next 20 years.

If anybody beat

the system it was Nick Sand.

I was granted

admission as a PhD candidate,

so that I could be a student

while I was in prison.

I ended up by getting

a PhD in psychology.

I had a lot of help

from people on the outside

who got my sentence

reduced to ten years,

which made me eligible for

parole in three and third years.

I pretty rapidly got absorbed

by the whole computer world.

It turned out that

having made LSD

was a positive thing

in the computer business.

Tim and I were lovers

for a while in late '60s.

And then we didn't see

one another for years.

But the more the years went

by, the more mellow he became.

He's like a cat.

You slowly get to know him.

A cat reveals their personality

to you rather slowly.

As we've gotten older,

we've figured out,

both of us, what we really want,

which is to be partners

and lovers and not

to live under the same roof.

And that's worked

wonderfully well.

I scaled

back my ambitions,

to trying to just

make my own life,

and the lives

of the people that I care

about be as good as possible.

This is not perfect

but I'm doing the best I can.

That's all we can do, you know.

Perhaps at the bottom

there are some

of the chemical manuals from

the different chemical houses.

This, packed into the corner,

is the great big steel

reactionary flasks.

It's like a big pressure cooker.

They can cook it under pressure.

I'd forgotten about him.

It was a huge shock to me the

magnitudes of the laboratory.

Practical LSD manufacture.

Drug smuggling,

the Forbidden Book.

That he'd gone

that long without getting

caught, and then when he got

caught that he was involved

in such an apparently big way.

Psychedelic log.

MDA, DMT.

Acetic acid.

I don't know if there's

much he hasn't tried his hand at.

I knew he was sharp

but I was still surprised.

- Chromatography.

- "Chromatography"?

He knows his stuff, doesn't he?

Yeah.

I was eventually

arrested with enough acid,

to dose the whole

of Canada two times over.

And they sent me back

to stand trial in the US.

By some great

coincidence, they got

me back in front of Sam Conti.

They brought him

out of retirement,

so he could get me again.

I'm a warrior for peace.

I can take it.

Sure beats working

in the yard at McNeil Island.

That's for sure.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes