Page 16 of Road Refugees

I stood with Zeus, his nose coming almost to my elbow. I realized I wanted to go into the bar in order to drink more alcohol. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Our Church of Good Fortune had feelers spread out like arteries in the western states. And I knew that, even in outsider clothes, I stood out like a cyclops in an optometrist’s shop. I still wore the dorky shoes that made me feel like a Pilgrim.

I gasped with horror when a biker sauntered on by in loud, black boots. All he did was lift his chin in acknowledgement of me. I think I was still jumpy, after Orson and all. When he passed, I saw he was a Bare Boner, Flagstaff chapter. A cloud of cigarette smoke engulfed him, and I wondered if the Boners were meaner than the Friends of Distinction. I just couldn’t picture Arkie in either club. He’d always been a sort of propellerhead, as we called them, nerds. With his protruding nose, tumble of curls, and an overbite like a Chihuahua, he was never in danger of being arrested for drug smuggling. Maybe for jaywalking. Had I heard wrong, or misremembered? I couldn’t call Brighten to ask, even if she did have a phone.

My head was still soupy and blurred. “Come on, Zeus!” I said cheerily, and picked up the pace toward The Drawing Board. Its neon signs flickered and rearranged the neurons in my brain, and it seemed to take eternity to reach the swinging front door. I was tiptoeing on a cloud bank, a giant horse of a dog at my side.

Then the door opened out and bashed me in the nose.

“Ow!” I said. “My nose!”

“Fuck, I’m sorry!” said a young-sounding guy.

“Heaven!” cried Orchid, somewhere behind me. “Come on! I’ve got your stuff!”

She took Zeus’ leash from my hand, and I still saw flashing red bullseyes as she led me away. “We’re going to this other bar, a safe bar, where some other lambs work. When’s the last time you had a cellphone?”

I finally removed my hand from my nose. “When I was eighteen.” I sounded stuffed-up, like I had a cold. I could barely see beyond my peripheral vision, but old loyal Zeus’ head bobbed there. Something occurred to me. “You just called me Heaven.”

“Yeah. Your real name, according to Byron.”

“I know. Mormons have odd names. But should I rename myself?”

“Why? How’s your brother going to find you?”

That was a good point. It wasn’t until we were ensconced firmly inside the new bar surrounded by blathering women—an atmosphere I was pretty well accustomed to—that I remembered I had a photo of Arkie deep in the recesses of my suitcase-purse. Now I knew what a “go bag” meant. You kept it chocked with supplies so you could “go” at a moment’s notice. I sure had. I was gone, girl!

I showed the photo, yellowed and blurry with age, to the table of lambs. No one had ever seen him, not as if a photo from ten years ago would be worth anything.

“What else do you know about him?” asked a dead serious girl who looked like Alice in Wonderland on steroids. “Did he give you any clues in his last communications?”

“One thing,” I admitted. “He said he was working at a marijuana dispensary called A Joint System.”

“Never heard of it,” said several women, all tapping away at their cellphones.

Orchid hadn’t shown me how to work mine yet, so I stared numbly at its blackness.

“We have several chapters around here,” said Alice in Wonderland, whose name was Nina. “One in Tucson, Bullhead City, Vegas—”

“Got it!” cried one lamb, holding her phone aloft. “It’s in Pure and Easy!”

“Where the heck is that?” I asked, leaning forward. Another lamb placed a bowl of nachos in front of me, and one for Orchid. I was amazed they’d found Arkie’s place of employment.

The lamb held her screen for me to see a map. Pure and Easy was pretty much due south of Flagstaff—thirty miles.

“Thirty miles!” I said. “I could do that tonight!”

“Mm-mm, no way,” said Orchid through a mouthful of corn, some chunks tumbling onto our shiny table. She didn’t wait to swallow before adding, “You’re not going anywhere until you’ve gotten a couple decent night’s sleep.” She waved away the fresh glass of beer another lamb was bringing me. But I, being taller, reached around and grabbed it from the girl. I was thirsty.

“And eat,” urged Nina. “When’s the last time you ate?”

I frowned. I’d missed that beef stroganoff dinner with Brighten and the others, so . . . “Tuesday maybe?”

“Oh, man!” Everyone burst into utterances of disgust.

“What’re you trying to do, die of anorexia?”

I lifted a chip to my mouth. “You could at least let me call A Joint System.”

“After you eat,” instructed Orchid. “Eat, eat.”