One day, after school, around 2:30 at Valley High, Wrak pulls the chains from a red Suzuki 250 motocross bike set up for street. He puts the chains in his back pack.  A tall person walks towards him from the Parking lot. The person has dark curly hair, sports a Hawaiian shirt, beige corduroy walking shorts and plastic flip flop zories.   The people in these parts call plastic sandals zories because Zorba wears zories and has a pair.  The person waves the classic star trek salute to Wrak and says, “Hello, my name is Lu, want to party this weekend?”   Wrak says, “Are you from around here?”  “I go to Sunni high school on the west side and am visiting a friend here in town.  I have all the stuff necessary to party and I need a shotgun. Are you in?”  “What you got?” inquires Wrak.  Lu points to a brand new Volkswagen Westphalia minivan.  “I even have curtains on all the windows,” says Lu.  “The back seat folds out into a bed big enough for four people. It gets good gas mileage and even has a water tank in case of thirst, but I try to keep the water tank full of Vodka.”  ”Are you joking,” asks Wrak?   “Can I see?”   “Sure,” says the minivan is two tones with a light blue bottom and white top.  All the windows have cute sliding curtains done in beige cotton print.  “Look inside,” says Lu.  The side door slides open with a low metallic groan.  Inside is a huge bed fitted with turquoise vinyl   foam cushions one foot thick.  A small wet bar constructed of stainless steel sits opposite the bed on the driver’s side.  Next to the door is a small closet.  Indian style curtains with beads separate the drivers compartment from the bedroom so that a person can drive and another sleep in back in total privacy. “I have the big 1800 engine.” Says Lu.  “It will do 80 miles an hour and 65 miles an hour up hill.  “How much did this cost,” asks Wrak?   “Six thousand dollars,” says Lu, “six thousand.”  The van is totally custom with an electrical outlet and running water.”  “Unbelievable,” exclaims Wrak.  “If I am in town on Friday, I will stop by and pick you up with some girls.”  “Are you in?”  Whispers Lu “I’m in” says Wrak.  Lu walks slowly to his van door, gets in, starts the engine and drives off slowly.  Wrak waves goodbye and kick starts his motorcycle to ride home.  Friday is three days away.  The sun sets early in tranquil hills because the mountains near the ocean shield the sun during its descent.  The sunsets on the beach are magnificent on a daily basis especially in the spring and summer.  The huge orange supernova orb descends minutely surrounded by   red, yellow and purple strata and Wrak never gets tired viewing them and today is a school day with homework to do, family to visit and dinner to eat before going to bed and early to rise to make a young man healthy, wealthy and wise. The little dog curls up on his cushion and lies on his side and runs and whines as he sleeps like he is chasing rabbits.  Then when you go to see, punkin has gone outside, nowhere to be seen.

     “Be sure you brush your teeth,” says Lu.  Girls do not like grungy teeth.  He is in the classic Hawaiian surfer wardrobe as usual.  My father looks at Lu, Lu looks at my father, and my father looks back at Lu.  My grandmother peeks out from the behind the hall door with one eye and then she is gone. “Let’s go partying,” yells Wrak. “Yes.”  “Party we shall.”  Shotgun in the Van with seatbelts and down Bacon Way past Mellowman’s’s Lane to Market Street and then on Moonrise Blvd. the van hums with tuned exhaust headers and a glass pack muffler.  Lu pulls a gas mask from underneath his seat.  “What is that?” asks Wrak. This is an oxygen mask from a B-17 with a meerschaum pipe secured to its end.  “What do you smoke in it?” asks Wrak.  “Weed,” says Lu, “and Lots of it.” From behind the seat, Lu pulls a 30 gallon black trash bag into the drivers compartment.  The bag is full of something.  The something is Mexican commercial green marijuana, about, two pounds worth.  Lu stuffs some Mexican grass into the meerschaum pipe, secures the gas mask to his head and hands Wrak a Bick Lighter.  “Light me up,” says Lu.  “The police cannot see me smoke anything while I drive,” says Lu.  “I can smoke pot on the freeway.”  Wrak takes the Bick lighter and flames the pipe bowl.  Lu puffs hard inside the mask and smoke jettisons out the side ports like a fire breathing dragon.  The whole cockpit fills with smoke.  “I will smoke a cigarette,” says Wrak.  Lu pulls down his mask and says, “Rag weed.”  I don’t smoke rag weed, only the best.” “The police cannot believe I smoke weed through a B-17 oxygen mask.  They never pull me over.”  He pulls over to a street off the Sunset Boulevard in tranquil hills and stops in front of a residential address.  He honks twice.  Two girls run out from the front door of a house set in lush bushes.  They have light brown hair rendered blond by the sun or peroxide.  Lu says, “This is Joanie and Jennie.  Jennie says she wants to meet you because she likes your surfing. 

       Both girls have hot pants on without nylon stockings, and halter tops set off by tan bikini lines.  They have purses with chain straps.  “Don’t you feel cold,” says Wrak.  “Not at all,” says Jennie, “Not at all.”  “Wrak, get out of shotgun and go sit in back with Jennie.”  “Joanie wants to sit with me.”  Wrak opens the side door, gets out and then unlocks the side door and lets Jennie in.  Wrak and Jennie sit together.  She feels very warm to the touch.  “Would you like a drink,” says Jennie.  “Sure,” says Wrak.  Underneath the wet bar is a refrigerator, Lu says, “Jennie, there is a quart of beefeater gin underneath the sink, break it out, we are partying.”   Jennie obtains a plastic glass from the refrigerator and pours some beer into the glass and hands the cup to Wrak. “Drink all of it,” she says.  “Sure,” says Wrak,” ” I love Coors beer.”  Wrak drinks the cup down in one gulp and burps. “Pardon me,” says Wrak.  “That was really good.” “Here,” says Jennie. “Drink another.”  “I love beer.” Says Wrak.  Night moves in to tranquil hills and Death wood and happy hills.  Wrak never could remember where the party was that night, only that it was fun.  The party location exists somewhere in between the lines.

         The best parties have a live band and a keg of free bear, or three kegs of free beer, or four kegs of free beer and a smoking room.  This party has it all.  Wrak feels high and Jennie asks him to dance.  Wrak starts doing the twist like Chubby checkers and then the swim like Goldie Hahn.   Somehow a strange force throws him on the ground and he becomes the first break dancer in southern California, spinning and sliding on his back.  Jennie squeals with delight.  The night has just begun and the band plays “Gimme shelter,” and “Brown sugar”   and more.  A ton of pretty girls in scanty clothes appeared and now everyone is dancing.  The girls dance. The guys dance.  Kool is here. HP is here with the Doctor’s daughter and night moves into night.  “Let’s sit awhile,” says Wrak.  “Let’s go back to Lu’s Van and listen to the radio,” says Jennie “I left the door open.”  “All right,” says Wrak, “Let’s go.”

“It is more comfortable back here,” says Jennie.  “Why are you closing the curtains,” inquires Wrak.  “So we can have some privacy,” says Jennie.  “Want some more beer,”  “Sure, “says Wrak.  Wrak drinks beer. Wrak drinks beer because the world is incredibly high and colors and textures vivid and exciting. Wrak hopes the beer will cut the buzz that somehow permeates his being.  “I turned on the radio,” says Jennie. “You have a radical bottom turn.”  “What shall we talk about?”

   The door pulls open with ferocity and Lu pulls Wrak off Jennie.  “Get off her you idiot.”  “I was wondering where you two were.”  “I have to get the girls back home by 11:30!  “I don’t know what came over me.” Says Wrak.  Jennie closes the door and composes herself. Lu and Joanie get in the front and start the car.  Wrak and Jennie lean on each other.  Wrak is back on earth and the van hum’s down the highway from Happy Hills to Tranquil Hills to the beginning of rationality and reality.  “See you later girls,” says Lu.  “Bye Wrakie, let’s go party again,” says Jennie.  Wrak waves good bye.  Jennie turns around, puckers her lips and gives the air a slow long kiss, and then they are gone.  “Use the one day delay,” says Lu, “The one day delay.”  “What is the one day delay.” Says Wrak.  “Date them once and do not touch them, the next date they are all over you.”  “I understand,” says Wrak. 

The custom Westphalia sputters off into the night.  Lu has to visit a friend at Saint Elsewhere.  The night is dark and long and quiet and the porch lights on bacon way glimmer sadly and emphatically.  The quiet permeates the seaside atmosphere, and in the quiet broods something unearthly living on the house on the corner.  Wrak opens the front door with his Schlage key.  Grandma stands at the door with punkin sitting next to her standing there.  “You are home,” she says, “thank God.”  Punkin wags his tail and yips with a high note.  “It is fun dancing grandma,” says Wrak.  “It is late, go to bed,” she says. The door is locked and the house of Wrak closes up for the night, tonight and all are home and accounted for and Saturday is today when the sun comes up, Almost like slaughterhouse five.