read me first
lawnjart and thefez scattered, going to say a few cursory goodbyes, and I was alone for a moment. I turned to the ocean, and there was the moon, full and luminous, inscribing a bright column on the water's surface. It was the Atlantic; I knew this much. I couldn't remember where we were, but I'd lived my life by this ocean.
I imagined I could see across it: Europe. I turned 180° - America. The whole thing, right there in front of me.
The gelcaps had delivered their payload and dissolved. I was sticky tooth and tingly leg.
lawnjart and thefez came back, from opposite directions, each slaloming the bonfires on either side of me.
time to leave
We walked over the soft sand, half-trudging, and the sand gave way to asphalt. An empty parking lot, save one automobile: a deep crimson two-door Cadillac, frosted orange by a mercury vapor streetlight.
thefez, prodding: Remember "tour de force?"
Out of nowhere, I remembered the definition:
A feat requiring great virtuosity or strength, often deliberately undertaken for its difficulty
behind the wheel
lawnjart, riding shotgun: You needn't keep your eyes on the road.
thefez, eating candy in the back seat: Nor your hands upon the wheel, for that matter.
lawnjart, reassuring: This IS a party. This IS a disco. This is some fooling around.
donfreenut, surprising himself: In the afterlife, they keep statistics for the living. When I die, they'll tell me how many times I stepped on a cigarette.
thefez, reaffirming our sense of purpose: We need more America.
lawnjart, climbing into the back seat: Surrender your candy.
one hour later
We'd collected our first artifact, the first in a long line of pins to be knocked down, and we stood over it like weary professionals with a new lease on life. It was beautiful. We decided to call it "a kid who actually grew up to be a cowboy."
lawnjart slammed the trunk. thefez climbed in the driver's seat, and I got in the back for some of that candy.
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