Perclusio

Perclusio (per-clu’-si-o): A threat against someone, or something.

“If you don’t start being my friend, I am going to beat the crap out of you.” This was Bascom Rogers at his best. For him “friend” was just a noise he made at people before he started swinging. God forbid, he wanted to be your friend. Everybody ran away when he started the “start being my friend” bit. It was rumored that due to his leg braces from having had polio, Bill Vegas was caught by Bascom and severely beaten with one of his own braces. Now that they were “friends” Bascom would push Bill down and ask “How’s it going pal?” and laugh like a cartoon vampire. Bill would lay there until Bascom left, and somebody would help him up. The “somebody” was often me. It was bad enough that Bill came close to dying from polio, but to be mercilessly bullied was nearly as bad.

I knew what I had to do. My Dad was a lab technician at “Experimental Labs.” They were funded by the government and made a lot of money and had developed vaccines for “orphan” viruses. Their vaccine for Korean Flu had saved the US Army during the Korean War. They produced a vaccine for rope burn that had saved countless high school students in gym classes across North America. They had developed a vaccine for “Milkaphobia” and virtually wiped out rickets in North America. Vitamin D deficiency in children became a thing of the past.

Now, in collaboration with Dr. Jonas Salt, they were working on a vaccine against polio. My plan was to steal some polio virus and administer it to Bascom. I knew, it was horrible, and illegal, but my moral compass pointed to doing it. I went to my father’s office. There was a gallon jug on his desk that said “polio.” He said he’d be right back, and left the office. I had a jelly jar that I had rinsed out. I put on the rubber gloves lying on the desk and poured a few drops of “polio” into my jelly jar. Now, I waited for my opportunity to administer it to Bascom.

Bascom and I were in an isolated corner of the school playground. I held out my jar and said, “Here Bascom, drink this. It will make you high.” He grabbed it out of my hand and drank it. As I was running away I heard him yell, “It better get me high or I’ll kick your fu*kin’ ass!”

The next thing I knew, Bascom was in the hospital. He had had a spiritual awakening and was going to India when he got out of the hospital. He would find a guru and learn how to spread love, peace and happiness wherever he went. He had taken out an ad in the local paper begging Bill Vegas to forgive him.

This was crazy! I asked my dad if he was still working on a polio vaccine. He said, “In fact, the other day when you were at my office, I stepped out to make a new label for the polio jug, but you left before I got back. We are working on a drug now, expanding our offerings. We are working with Doctor Timothy Larry on a new drug called LSD. That’s what was in the polio jug.

In the coming years it would be called “Acid,” it would help end the Vietnam War and gave many young people a deep appreciation for the mutability of the “taken for granted” backdrop of everyday life. Guru Bascom started a commune in central New York and teaches his followers to “love one another right now.” Bill Vegas found his way to Bascom’s commune, forgave him, and joined.

Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu)

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