14. PRETTY LIGHTS

By J.J. Colagrande

Kurtis re-appeared casually, like a cat-in-the-corner, stealth of a ninja. The reunion took place around twilight, at our campsite. He acted like nothing had happened, explaining it took forever to find a pipe. In fact, he gave up on the quest. No glass on the mountain, he said. He looked at me and smiled a quarter-moon and I knew he recovered the remedy. The girls remained oblivious to the situation. And you tell me? Why would any man corrupt a woman in a grand mood, unless really necessary. The gals were busy in business chatter, re-applying their face-paint and make-up for the Saturday night climax. It looked nice indeed to see Geri and Princess vibing so well. Geri felt glory about her merch getting consigned; she was moving up the retail chain quickly, from selling gear in parking lots, to consignment in stores and now on Shakedown. Just a matter of time before she’ll have her own store and merch booth. All good for Kurtis and her. Fair, yes, Very fair. Meanwhile–while they were out shopping–I wandered around hearing all sorts of details about golf carts chasing each other through the festival grounds and someone stealing Papadosio’s bus. I took Kurtis aside and said he should lay low–maybe stick his dreads in a hat or something. Kurtis assured me he knew how to play the incognito card and I believed him. He showed me the powder. It resembled nothing I’d ever seen before. Some weird elixir of sorts; we both felt baffled by its chemical compounds and agreed that probably the Chemist in Florida could explain. We also agreed to keep the girls in the dark. It’s never good keeping a secret from the ones you love, but what do you do if keeping the secret is for their own good? I learned a long time ago to dismiss the notion that what I witnessed was in fact reality. I know all too well any human with a mind uses their mind to keep a secret or two. And although we strive to achieve consciousness where truth is indeed our identity, since we are not perfect nor is it hardly convenient, we wind up using our resources to protect our secrecy. All Good, really-we decided to enjoy the rest of the night like nothing happened. Kurtis would play the down-low and call Teflon off the mountain. We were going to leave early Sunday anyway, to beat the traffic. But we still had some music. The last hour of Moe’s set, a monster Saturday night welcome to prime-time sorry about your bus jam from Papadosio; we had headliner Primus and late night with Pretty Lights. We had two beautiful girls, dressed to the hilt in full fairy mode–and they had their two dragons to protect them and dance with them and hold them all the night through. But most important, there was a kid in a coma in Chicago whose life could be saved. A little dramatic? Like nothing I’ve ever seen. A little out-of-character? You think!! But still, as always–All Good, indeed.

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FIN

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