Twenty one

"Do you know, Douglas, how long I have owned these panties?" says Dirt.
"No, I do not," I say.
"Five years--and THEY are not destroyed but the powers of acid are destroying HIS--peter's--brain, that little fucker. I have power and I am using my power to destroy his little brain. AS WE SPEAK PETER IS OUT ON THE STREETS OF OAKLAND LIKE A CONFUSED LITTLE BOY." She takes a moment to let the gravity of her words linger in the air. "Douglas. Do you see this thing? This means nothing to me. Maybe some day it will," says Dirt, holding up a blue tennis ball thrower arm for playing with dogs.
"I am going to go find peter," I say.
"I want to go too. Let's go for a walk."
"I wish you would stay here."
"The thing about this, Douglas, everybody here knows me. I am friendly with all my neighbors." Suddenly she whips the tennis ball thrower around threateningly, holding its point just inches from my throat. "Nobody is going to fuck with me."
"Okay, sure. On second thought I think I should make a phone call." Dirt glares at me, clutching the thrower tightly.
"What are you writing in that notebook!"
"Nothing--just a second."
"I can see you writing."
"poetry. I am writing some poetry."
"I read that article you wrote a while ago with me in it."
"Really?"
"Yes. You aren't a very good writer."

I go into the next room and look at my watch. 3.16 AM. I call three people who I think might be friends with peter. Nobody picks up. I call up Rejan Barét over on the East Coast. It is now 6.27 AM in his Brookline, Massachusetts bedroom. The phone rings three times. Rejan picks up. Before saying anything he takes one moment to himself to wonder what sort of idiot would wake him at 6.27 in the morning all the way from Oakland, California.
"Hello?"
"Hello Rejan."
"What's up."
"I need some advice."
"OK."
"Three people took some acid. One kid is lost somewhere out on the street. Another wants to help me look for him. The third is asleep, on acid, in person number two's bed. She wakes up periodically to puke everywhere."
"Are you on acid?"
"No. Also, as of now it is my birthday today."
"Oh! Happy birthday, Douglas."
"Thank you."
"This is number twenty one, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is."
"Okay, well. If I were you I guess I would go out looking for this kid. Don't look too hard. Look for maybe...twenty minutes. After that go to the bar and get a drink."
"That sounds good."
"Happy twenty one."
"Thanks, Rejan."