PUNK: Lonesome American Memoirs

19. Raped by Soapy

It was late, we’d been out walking the streets of Berkeley. This was a very nice acid trip. Not too much speed in it. Eileen, Carol, Toni and Rachel, Tim, Johnny, all of us. We were in the guest cottage of Eileen’s mother’s house hanging around.

I was really hallucinating heavily, the room was breathing and the conversations were confusing to me. Soapy had arrived. She was a girl from Santa Cruz that was sorta cute, but she had long brown hair and wore purple. She talked like a valley girl. None of the DMR girls liked her. They actually hated her. I’d seen them go off on girls they didn’t like. Just walk right up and take them out. But they never did that to Soapy. Not that I remember anyhow. The energy in the room grew very dark. I got pretty uncomfortable with this weird girl everyone hated talking about how she’d run away from home. So I climbed up the into the attic.

The ladder leading up into what looked like an abandoned playroom was narrow, and it took some time to squeeze through the tiny space. Somehow I’d made a mistake and sipped from the ‘Drink Me’ vial, instead of the cupcakes. I was growing, and the space was closing up. I squirmed desperately, and at last pulled my feet up through the hole in the floor. The room was bare walled, there were some children’s toys against one wall, and a couple of bean bag chairs over in the corner.

The trouble was that the floorboards were breathing. They were moving apart, and back together again. The whole room was breathing, I could hear it. When the room would inhale, the floorboards would spread apart, and I could see my friends in the room below. They looked so happy. I smiled. When the room exhaled, the floor would close up again. Between breaths I made a dash for the beanbag chairs and pulled all of myself up on them to be sure I wouldn’t fall through the floorboards, or get my foot caught between them when the room exhaled. I was safe, for now. But I was also trapped.
I just relaxed, and watched my friends below talking and laughing. I was happy. I was protecting everyone. Everything was going to be ok.

I liked to drink a lot of beer when I was tripping. That was one of the best things about LSD. You could drink a case of beer to your head and not get drunk in the least. I’d brought a few beers with me, pilfered from the kitchen and stashed in my jacket. Cracking open the second beer and pouring it into my mouth I felt that there was no distinction between the inside of me and the outside. I determined that we were like plastic enclosures with burlap sacks inside. What we drank simply filtered through the burlap and filled our legs until it spilled over and we had to go to the bathroom to drain it out. Food would be caught in the mesh of the sack, and decompose.

Laying there alone, frying my brain on nine hits of green gel, and drunk on a twelve pack of brown derby I was content. I didn’t want for anything. I even had a full pack of smokes. This was turning out to be a very, very nice night.

“Ooh, what’s this? Said the voice I had not been expecting.

I looked up, and there in the light of the hole in the floor was half of Soapy. Her hair was rising up off her head from what looked like static electricity.

“Can I come up and join you?”

I didn’t answer. I was thinking that she would fall through the floorboards and I wouldn’t have to worry about her. I knew that my friends downstairs would like that. So I just looked at her as she pulled her mini skirted lower half, and bare legs up through the hole.

You look really cozy up here.”

I laughed through my nose.

“Wow. You are fucked up aren’t you?”


The sound of my voice sealed the room. The happy, content feeling was suddenly gone and I was sure that it had started to rain outside. Either that or there were little bee bees in the roof pouring through the shingles.

Soapy smiled and leaned into my face, kissing my lips. Her lips bled into mine, leaving some of her on me. She took off my jacket, and started rubbing my arms.

“How did you get all these bruises?”

I couldn’t talk. She was leaving herself all over me. Everywhere she touched me I was turning pink. She smelled like bright green flowers.

She started undoing my pants and talking about something quietly. I closed my eyes and tried to make her go away. I thought of Julie Rogers, her sweet little face. Her shy eyelids, and soft hands. I started to cry.

“Oh, it’s ok. Mama’s here.”

When she slipped herself onto my helpless erection it was as if someone had dropped red dye into vinegar. The stain of red spread out into the clear fluid like a cloud. Soapy wiped the tears off my face and began shift her hips forward and backward.

I squeezed my eyes together and replayed the night before in my mind. I’d done too much speed and offered to let Steve’s friend Audrey stay at the record shop. She didn’t want to sleep in the office with me. So I gave her a blanket and a pillow and she slept on the riser at the back of the store. At about four in the morning I was looking in the mirror picking at my skin, and finally decided to go see if Audrey was awake. She wasn’t. I lay down beside her and began to softly touch her. She moved away from me. She didn’t want me to touch her. In the afternoon when I woke up she was gone.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” Asked Soapy. She was getting into it, and breathing all over me.


“You like this don’t you?”


She smiled and kept going.

I closed my eyes again, still trying to remove myself from the situation, to make her go away. And I watched Emma grow up. She had been such a pretty little girl with strawberry blonde hair. She played the Jam for me, and pointed out a line that went “Think of Emma, wonder what she’s doing, her husband Terry and your grandchildren. Think of Edward, still at college, you send him letter which he doesn’t acknowledge…’ When I slept over at their house I would have a hard time choosing who I was more in love with, her mother or Emma herself. I always chose Emma. I slept right next to her bed on the floor. One night we held hands all night. I caressed her arm. In the morning I tried to kiss her and the pushed me away saying, “Do you realize what you’ve done?

I had no idea what she was talking about. No, I don’t have any idea what I’ve done. What have I done? What do you mean? Please explain it to me. Please tell me. I love you. Why don’t you love me?

Soapy was climaxing. I was crying like a little boy, unable to breathe.

“Please stop.”

Soapy moaned.


Soapy laughed lightly, girlishly.

“Get off of me!”

“Get away from me!”

Stop it!”

“Soapy!” Eileen’s voice called up from below. “Your mother is here.”

She rolled off of me and started putting her clothes on. The sound of people climbing up the ladder filled the attic. I was paralyzed with fear. I lay there, on the beanbag chair with my pants down at my ankles, tears streaming down my face, with my erection glistening in the light of the room when everyone climbed up to witness Soapy’s departure.


“Make her stop.”

“Help me! Please help me.”

Everyone laughed at me. They were shocked that I’d had sex with her. They blamed me. Thought less of me. In fact, many of them never spoke to me again. Was it them? Or was it me? Who decides that happens? Why is it a man’s responsibility when sex is involved? Girls decide. They make the decision. I only wanted to protect everyone and be loved by them. I only wanted to be left alone. I didn’t like Soapy, I couldn’t fucking stand the sound of her voice. I loved Emma. I loved Julie. I loved Tess. I loved Stephanie. I missed my mother. I wanted to go home. I wanted to die.

Soapy climbed out the window and down the trellis on the side of the cottage. Her mother caught her and they had a screaming match. The police arrived. I lay there on the beanbag chair with my pants down around my ankles listening the radio speaking in code until they left.

In the morning I got dressed and left while everyone was sleeping on the floor.

Gang of Four ‘Anthrax’


Table of contents
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24
Musicology, Errata