He's not flying, but both have them, have got to guard me until boarding. I am indifferent in the parking lot at LAX, and in the terminal, and through security.Ī TSA officer nods when one of my escorts shows her a pass in lieu of a ticket. One highway east, one south out of the Valley. I am indifferent in the SUV, one transporter up front, the other in the back seat beside me. Do I hope this will make me appear stable? You've clearly made a mistake. I decide, for reasons I do not quite understand, that there is something to be won by appearing utterly calm. You'll probably be back in time to celebrate. In the driveway the next morning, I finally understand why they agreed so easily. I'd come back to my parents' house the night before after negotiation. On a trip to the Getty Villa, a recreation of a Roman estate high up over the Pacific Coast Highway, I hang back in the bathroom for an hour, convinced I'm having a heart attack. I've fallen asleep each day in music history. Why else would they be so willing to be up by 7? Driven me to campus through Los Angeles traffic? I think my parents must have known where I was, called them, made sure I was at least still living, still going to classes. I don't know why these friends let it go on for so long. Some youth wilderness programs are sincere in their effort to help students some believe help is best achieved by breaking them I am six weeks into summer school, which I have been attending five days a week despite the fact that I walked out of my parents' house a month prior with $200 and had, until the night before, been dividing my time between three or four friends with empty couches and a taste or at least a tolerance for the kinds of drugs I like. One of the men, "transporters" I'll later learn they're called, asks me how old I am. I have the sense that they were there, but I can't place them. Or it was one of them who woke me up, down on one knee next to my bed, hand on my shoulder, lightly shaking like, Hey buddy, you're going be late for school, except it isn't that this time. My father, not my mother? My mother, my father already in his office? Or they are in the kitchen, or at the front door, a quick goodbye while we pass through to the driveway. Or they are in the living room, watching.
They are standing in the doorway, two men, each of them alone more than big enough to move me on his own, one of them speaking, very kind already, Hey. These two men preparing in the living room, the last Are you sure, a hand on the doorknob. I am awake already, I don't know for how long. It is 6 in the morning, but the disturbance doesn't wake me. I have only been home for a few hours when two strangers open the bedroom door.
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