We looked at each other and smiled, but said nothing. "What's the plan for tonight?" she asked us, looking back and forth between the two of us, her lively eyes twinkling with mischief. We let go of each other, and we both laughed again. I felt her lumpy dreads in my hands, and realized I was still holding onto her. "This acid's pretty wavy dude," August remarked, her mouth against my ear as she embraced me, "very mellow, it's like it takes ya on a long car ride into the country, a long car ride with excellent scenery," she added, as I could feel a slow, lazy smile spreading across her face, and I knew the acid was clearly hitting her as well. She caught up to us, moments later, all of us panting and out of breath, as we hugged one another, laughing gleefully. We ran fast and furiously towards the rocks they were situated on, screaming and throwing our arms everywhere, as if none of us had seen the other for days on end. As we neared just a little bit closer, we began to laugh giddily, as we could now see her waving erratically, heading towards us with two black guys, one of her comrades several sizes larger than any of us. Rockaway beach was five minutes from our community, so we decided to search for our dear friend, sure we had found her, but not so sure it was actually her, given the acid was really starting to kick in. We were higher than one of these New York City skyscrapers, tripping on acid that August had given us. We both squinted to see further, but we didn't really know what we were seeing. They were all people who lived in our Therapeutic Community a long-term addiction-recovery program, named Safe Haven Village, or The Village as I liked to call it, because Greenwich had nothing on this place, it was a complete circus, a regular freak show by all definitions of the word. "I think I see her!" she shouted, referring to our mutual acquaintance August Delgado, who as always, was surrounded by a small cluster of people, all of them off into the distance. Tear drops were streaming down my face from my watery eyes, with the sun luminous and bright, but the weather still quite cold, at least for spring.
We continued to run, as we laughed even harder. Strong, and intense, scorching the back of my throat, just the way I needed something to be. Black-and-Mild’s, the box said, and they were delicious. I followed, out of breath, trying to inhale the last of a cheap, fat menthol cigar.
She laughed loudly, nearly tumbling over, her voice ringing through the air, despite the howl of the heavy winds. Karen, who was drenched in a thick, mauve turtle neck, and a pair of furry, suede boots, ran awkwardly about two feet ahead of me, her left leg shorter than the right making her look funny. We were scurrying down the wooden planks along the boardwalk, five minutes from our community.
"Come on, Danielle!" Karen shouted over the raging winds, which were both loud and aggressive, due to April's unpredictable weather.
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