like a pomegranate | george harrison

16 - It Is Being

"Gotten into the punch, have we?" Paul joked, pulling her into a sitting position.

She coughed and sputtered, chlorinated water pouring from her mouth and hitting pavement. The palms of her hands stung, scraped by cement.

The joking expression quickly fell from his face as he patted her awkwardly on the back. "There, there," he said. "Too much wine?" He bent down to try and meet her eyes.

Paul was beautiful, all lit up in the blue glow from the pool. A gorgeous circle of glittering light fractured into a million pieces around him.

"Your eyelashes," she gasped, shaking her head. "Beautiful."

When she looked up, her pupils were dilated, her eyes almost completely black. It hit him.

"Cloud," he said, hiding his laughter behind his hand. "Have you gotten into some acid?"

"What?" She asked, frowning.

"You've taken acid, haven't you!" He exclaimed, laughing. "Oh no, here. Let's move somewhere else."

He pulled her up by the hand, and the world swirled all around them like a spoon twirling cream into black coffee. He sat her down on a yellow, floral lounge chair, putting her feet up.

"I am?" She gasped slowly, brushing the back of her hand along her own cheek. It felt like rubber.

Paul laughed for a while, wiping a tear from his eye.

"I'm sorry, it's not funny," he shook with more laughter. "It's not. The boys made me take it once. I thought I saw God. He was like, this tall, black void, y'know. And he spoke to me, too."

"I hear voices," Cloud said, rubbing her eyes, looking distraught. Paul's face fell again.

"It's alright! Don't worry. It'll be over... soon." He frowned, looking around the patio. "Where's George? He's left you alone like this?"

"I don't know," she stared at the pool, watching the water change colors, molding and bending into different shapes. Jimi Hendrix splashed by, his clothes completely soaked through. "The last time I saw him was... hours ago."

"Maybe so, maybe not," Paul corrected. "Time passes strangely when you're on this stuff."

"Hmm," she replied, her eyes glazed over. "Has anyone seen me? Like this?" She asked, placing a hand over her chest.

Paul looked around again, and shook his head.

"No. Seems they're all too concerned with their own trip," he said thoughtfully, watching a group of barefooted partygoers hold hands in a circle.

~~~

Cloud needed a watchful friend. And Paul knew how terrible tripping could be.

He figured it'd be best to let her ride things out; there was nothing they could do but wait. He walked with her to the edges of the rolling lawn, letting her stop and fawn over every tree and flower.

~~~

Cloud was collecting a pile of tiny lemons from the manor's grove, using her skirt as a basket. As Paul puffed on his cigarette and hummed a tune, footsteps came their way.

It was George, wide-eyed and out of breath.

"I saw you two," he leaned over and rested his hands on his knees. "From the patio. I've been all over the place."

Paul and Cloud remained silent. A single lemon fell into the grass with a thud.

"She's discovered something tonight that perhaps she didn't intend to," Paul hinted.

George immediately crouched down to where Cloud was kneeling, grabbing her hand tightly.

"I am so sorry," he said, trying to meet her eyes. The lemon in her hand escaped and rolled away. "I never meant for this to happen."

"My lemon," she whispered, avoiding George's intense gaze. He reached for it quickly and placed it back in her pile.

"So, what was it?" Paul asked.

George sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Andy wanted some photographs. Then we had some tea."

"It's always the tea," Paul waved a finger.

"Right. Well, we'd had a good lot to drink. Don't think either of us were thinking too much about it," George replied.

"Shouldn't have had the tea," Paul said.

George sighed. "Andy insisted on another room for a separate photo. Ron said he'd chat with her. Came back and she was gone."

Cloud let go of George's hand and slowly laid back on the wet grass, staring calmly at the night sky. George followed her movement with his eyes, afraid to let her out of sight.

"Maybe our Ron thought it'd be funny to have her try it," Paul said. "Hits quickly when you're new, doesn't it?"

"I was so stupid," George said, lying down beside her. "Must've walked through a hundred rooms just now."

Cloud brought a finger to his lips, begging for quiet.

"Shhh," she hushed. "Where's Linda?"

"Oh. Stayed home, she has," Paul replied. He raised his eyebrows at George, signaling to pull him aside.

Can't leave her, George mouthed. Paul sighed.

All the same, George knew what he meant.

~~~

"All right then," George soothed, buckling her into the passenger seat. "There we are."

Cloud immediately unbuckled herself to inspect the silver seatbelt; millions of metal scratches reflected and dazzled in the moonlight.

"Have you ever really looked at something George?" She sighed. He buckled her again, gently holding her arm down.

"Sure I have. Its's like a living meditation," he gave her a small smile.

She laid her head back on the seat and smiled blissfully, closing her eyes.

"Where are we going?" She asked dreamily.

"Home. There's lots of new things to look at there," he rubbed her arm. "I'm worried this environment may be... too much for you at the moment."

"Which 'environment'?" She asked, imitating his accent.

"This party," he replied patiently, smoothing a strand of hair away from her eyes.

"So that's where we are," she replied quietly, resting her arm on the car door, wiggling her fingers.

George couldn't help the pang of guilt deep in his chest. This was his fault.

He sat behind the wheel and sighed, starting the car and easing them down the long, winding cliff.

She watched the world go by, wide-eyed and entranced.

He watched her in the rearview mirror, nervous, but grateful.

~~~