This Much is True - Tia Louise Page 0,58

leaves, metallic water, and skunk weed. Strange, trumpet-shaped flowers hang from the trees like upside-down vases. They’re bright yellow with red-orange petals curled back. They look like something from another planet, or maybe I’ve got a contact high from sitting here so long.

Scrubbing my fingers against my forehead, I do my best to remember Clyde and the two burnouts. When we met, he was dressed like anybody else you’d see in this park, but instead of a laid-back vibe, he was focused, watching. At the time I chalked it up to the supplement he was hawking, but now I realize he was on guard for any sign of a setup.

I was the one being set up.

Another meeting with my asshole parole officer, another week of sitting in the park, and I’m ready to quit.

I have no idea what makes me think I’ll find this guy. I watch the water slam against the bottom of the falls, and I feel like one of those rocks. Defeat is heavy on my shoulders and pot is in the air.

I’m ready to walk home when a skinny guy in loose jeans and a poncho strolls up and takes a seat. His dark dreads are tied in a thick bundle at the back of his neck, and a scarf is tied over his mouth and nose. He sits like a Buddha at the base of the cross.

A long strand of jet-black beads is around his neck, and a memory hits me. Clyde wore a similar strand the day we met. I thought they were onyx. He laughed and said no way. They were “magical.”

Magically, I did not roll my eyes.

This guy isn’t familiar, but he’s as close as I’m going to get.

I have to go for it.

Taking a slow breath, I think about Scout. I relax my shoulders and do my best to channel his carefree, laid-back style of talk. “Hey, Namaste, man.”

I feel like an idiot.

Bloodshot, eyes blink open to meet mine, and he’s clearly high. “Peace and love.”

Keeping a safe distance, I do my best to sit in a similar style as him, wondering what these guys say to each other. I don’t know a lot about hippie-speak, but I read a book by Stephen Hawking about the history of the universe.

“The world is turning at a thousand miles per hour.” I look towards the falls. “We’re just along for the ride.”

He nods. “Like sands through the hourglass.”

“Turtles all the way down.”

His eyes widen. “You’re into Hinduism?”

“Hawking.”

“Good stuff. Happiness is a direction, not a place.”

I don’t think Stephen Hawking said that, and I don’t care. I’ve got to find Clyde. “I was looking for a friend. Maybe you know him?”

“Maybe.” He closes his eyes and starts to Om.

I put my hands on my knees and wait. I don’t want to rush him.

Ironically, a turtle crawls to the edge of the small lagoon and stretches his head out of the water. I picture a flat earth balanced on the top of his shell and him standing on the back of another turtle and another below that… It’s the universe people once believed.

Stoner Dude’s lips have stopped moving, and now he’s deep breathing, in and out. My stomach is tense, and I’m praying I don’t blow my cover.

He exhales loudly and rises to his feet. “Just got my word. I was on another plane, watching the thoughts roll by like pebbles in the stream.”

I stand with him. This is it. “So Clyde told me to drop by next time I was in town.”

A smile breaks across his face. “You know Clyde, man? I just saw him over at Hidden Hemp.”

You don’t say? “Is he in the same place? Frederick and Clayton?”

“No way, man, he left there two years ago. He’s north of Buena Vista now—over the coffee house.”

Two years ago, as in right after my shit went down. “Thanks…”

“Arlo.” He holds up his hand, palm facing me. “It is not how much we have, but how much we enjoy.”

“See you around, Arlo.”

“Stay beautiful, Turtle-man.”

He wanders off in the direction of the ocean, and as soon as he’s out of sight, I take off jogging back towards the bus stop.

Buena Vista is a smallish park east of here. I have no idea which coffee house he’s talking about, but I’m pumped. I’m ready to get justice.

Hope

“You were in her room, mask off, sampling her cosmetics…” Yarnell stalks around the living room like she’s so astounded.

“I wasn’t sampling her cosmetics!” I’m on the couch, hiding under a