Inside an apartment in an old apartment building, I was looking at a piece of a dried marijuana plant which I had somehow acquired. Since I knew that my old college professor, Rembert Glass, was in the neighboring apartment, I decided to take the marijuana plant to his apartment and show it to him. I walked next door and found Rembert (who looked about 40 years old) sitting behind a desk. I laid part of the plant on the desk so Rembert could see it, but I kept part of the plant in my hands, the part which consisted of a dark brown bud, thick with seeds. Rembert suggested that I take the seeds back to the neighboring apartment and count the seeds. He also said I should separate out some smaller younger seeds—which he described as premature—and count them separately.

As I was about to leave, I noticed the part of the plant which was lying on the desk no longer looked the same. That piece of marijuana was now white and had changed shape, so it resembled a piece of porcelain shaped like a plant. The piece was about a half meter long, thick at the base, curving and tapering off toward the top. When I commented to Rembert that it resembled a garlic plant, he agreed.

I carried the seeds back into the neighboring sparsely-furnished apartment. After I had seated myself and had begun examining the seeds, the room gradually began to fill up with people. Finally, as many as 20 men were in the room, most of whom appeared to be in their 20s. A raucous old classmate from high school, Scott MacDonald, had sat down next to me on my right.

MacDonald also had some marijuana which he was busily compressing into a tiny square, about a centimeter in size. When I spoke to him, he asked me something about smoking marijuana. I told him that I did not smoke any more, that I had not smoked in almost two years. When he asked why, I tried to explain that about five years earlier, I had felt as if God had counseled me to stop smoking marijuana. Even as I spoke, however, I felt awkward about using the word "God," because I really did not understand what the word meant.

MacDonald asked me if I were a Christian, and I told him I was not. He asked if I were a Hindu, and again I said no. I tried to explain that I simply had a personal relationship with God and that I did not belong to any religion. Seemingly satisfied with my explanation, MacDonald continued with his business.

When I finally stood up, I noticed that several people in the room had some pot which they were apparently preparing to smoke. As if on cue, different people lit up joints and pipes, and began passing them around. I decided to simply watch, and when one fellow walked toward me with a pipe and offered it to me, I turned it down; he handed the pipe to someone else.

As the room began to fill up with smoke, I wondered if I would be affected if I breathed any of the smoke in the air. Noticing a particularly heavy cloud of smoke near me, I thought of sticking my head into it, but instead, I walked into a neighboring room where I found several women, including another old high school classmate, prim and proper Wendy McCall, sitting inside. The women apparently did not smoke and had retreated to the other room to escape. I only stayed in the room for a few minutes, and I spoke to no one. When I finally turned and walked back into the smoking room, I was surprised to discover that everyone had already left. However a thin haze of smoke still hung over the room.

I glanced at the door which led to the room where Rembert had been earlier. Seeing no light under the door, I concluded that Rembert had probably also left. I wondered if he had smelled the marijuana and had thought I had been smoking. I hoped not.