Hank held the crystal up to the light, slowly turning it back and forth. It was clear, with slanting faces, each a parallelogram. It was the size and shape of a big ice cube. At certain angles, it split the incident images in two. Looking through it made you feel like you were seeing double.

“This iscool ,” said Hank after a while. “You know that crystal-set receiver I built back in fifty-eight? That could only pick up NBC?”

“Yeah. It had that part called acat whisker .” Suddenly Conrad realized what Hank was getting at. “You mean?” “A receiving set.Based on this specially tuned crystal.”

“Oh, my God. Can you rig it now?”

“I’m too fucking wrecked. Let’s call it a night. I’ll get you the spare mattress from the basement.”

While Hank got the mattress, Conrad fondled the crystal, wondering what kinds of signals they might pick up. Saucer transmissions? Messages from the future? A how-to course on antigravity?

Mrs. Larsen woke them up around noon.

“Conrad! Your brother’s been phoning for you. I thought he was joking, but then I peeked in. It’s so nice to have you here. We had no idea you were planning a trip!”

“Uh ... hi, Mrs. Larsen. It’s good to see you. Is Caldwell on the phone right now?”

“I told him I’d wake you and have you call back. Here’s a towel and a washrag. Did Hank make you sleep without sheets?” “Doesn’t matter.” Conrad was in his clothes, under a light blanket. His head hurt and he felt greasy all over. “OK if I take a shower?”

“Of course! Do you still like scrambled eggs?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

When Conrad came back from the shower, Hank was already up and dressed, laying out equipment on his desk. “Should havesome kind of Rube Goldberg assemblage runnin’ here before too long.” The phone out in the hall was ringing.

“Conrad! It’s for you.” Conrad went out and took the phone from Mrs. Larsen. “Hello, Caldwell.”

“Conrad Bunger!” The voice was high and husky. For a horrible instant, Conrad thought it was Skelton ... or one of the flame-people. “This is Dee! Dee Decca. Sue’s big sister saw you at Tacy Leggett’s last night, so I thought I’d try—” “Dee!” Conrad was hysterical with relief. “Dee baby! Three years! I loved all your letters ... don’t know why we let it slide like that ... you’re in Louisville, too? Hank already told me, come to think of it, and I was gonna call you today. You as smart as ever? Have you seen God?” “All the time. I’m a California girl now, Conrad, modern-style. I’ve got somestuff to share with you, and so much to tell. Remember the Bo Diddley concert? And existentialism?”

“Oh, Dee. Do I remember. Look, you’re at Sue Pohlboggen’s? Can I come over? Is Sue willing to speak to me?” Muffled voices and giggling. “She says, ‘At a distance.’ Do you have a car?”

“Uh ... yeah. Got an MG convertible, Dee.”

“Cosmic! Why don’t you come get me, and we can take a little drive in the country.”

“Sure,” said Conrad, not missing a beat. Caldwell could take care of himself, and Hank’d be busy putting the receiver together.Meanwhile I’ll be out getting stoned with my high-school girlfriend! “I can hardly wait.”

“See you in half an hour.”

“Beautiful.” Over breakfast, Conrad filled Hank in. Hank took it in stride.

“This space-radio I’m building’ll take all day anyway. Get a piece off Dee for me, Conrad. We’ll look for you around suppertime.” Caldwell was less gracious when he finally got Conrad on the phone.

“What do you mean,you need my car today ?”

“I’ve got a date with Dee Decca. Why can’t you use Tacy Leggett’s car? Lether drive you around.”

“That’s just it, Conrad. Things didn’t work out so well last night. I need to clear out of here. As a matter of fact, since goddamn Mrs. Larsen wouldn’t wake you up, I already called Tuck Playfair to come get me.”

“Old Tuck’s still in Louisville?”

“Yeah, he’s coming to get me any minute. But look, I need that car.” “You can do without it till tonight, can’t you, Caldwell?”

“Oh, Christ, all right. I think I hear Tuck outside right now. Look, let’s meet at the Larsens’ for supper.

Say six o’clock?” “Yeah, I’ll tell Mrs. Larsen. And we gotta be sure to watch the local news at seven.”

Caldwell groaned. “What did you and Hank do, Conrad?”

“What didyou do to poor Tacy Leggett?”

“You screw up my new car and you’re dead.”

“Six o’clock.”

Dee looked pretty much the same. White skin, two dark moles, a cute face with double-curved lips. She wore jeans and a purple T-shirt.

“Your hair’s longer, Dee.”

“So’s yours. Isn’t it great? The fifties are dead forever.” She hugged him, and they patted each other’s backs.

“Hello,Conrad .” It was Sue Pohlboggen, curly, blonde, and sassy as ever.

“Sue. How is your ass?”

“I’llnever tell.” She let out one of her suggestive giggles. “Dee’s been dying to see you.”

“Well, here I am. You ready for our drive, Dee?”

“Let me get my stuff.” She darted into the house and was back in a second. She held a lit cigarette and a small, paperback book. “You have to read this, Conrad, it’s wonderful.”

“The Doors of Perception,”read Conrad. “By Aldous Huxley. Isn’t he the guy who wrote 1984?”

“Brave New World,”corrected Dee. “He died the day JFK got shot. He was tripping on LSD.”

“That killed him?”

“No, no. He was dying anyway. His wife gave him an injection, to help him die. I love your car!”

“So do I,” chimed in Sue. “Is it really yours?”

“I’llnever tell,” said Conrad, raising his voice an octave. This was neat, to be here flirting with his old girlfriends. “Uh, I don’t guess you want to come along, do you, Sue?”

Sue giggled again. “Oh, it’s just a two-seater. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Chapter 20:

Saturday, August 6, 1966 “Shall I roll another joint, Conrad?” They were idling down a two-lane country road. It was a hot, sunny Saturday afternoon.

“Uh ...yeah. I’m just starting to feel it. Time slowing down, you know? The song on the radio, I can’t even tell what it is anymore, it’s been on so long. I don’tbelieve those guitars!”

“Eight Miles High. It’s great to be with you, Conrad. Do you remember how we used to talk about death and God together? We thought we were misfits, but we were just ahead of our time. Things are really far-out in California. Whole crowds of people getting stoned and communicating ... we’re not alone anymore.”

Dee bent down out of the wind to roll the joint. She kept her marijuana in a little plastic pill bottle. Not that little a bottle, really—they’d already smoked two of the thin, yellow cigarettes, and it looked like there was still plenty ofstuff left.

There were fenced-in pastures on either side of the high-crowned asphalt road. Trees grew by the fences. Watching the trees go past was ... too much. Like green spaceships. Flying saucers.What if there’s a saucer hovering right behind the car , thought Conrad, his stomach tightening.Full of cops and aliens.

“How do you feel, Conrad?”

“Uh ... I ... I ... it’s hard to decide if this is pleasant or not.”

“Yeah. I like that about being high. Not having things be pleasant or not. Just, you know,there . Bein it.

Like a movie. Don’t you feel like we’re in a movie, Conrad?”

“I feel good, Dee. Thanks for doing this. I’ve never had enough grass to get stoned before. Just ... you know, six guys sharing one joint. Locking the door, and everybody saying, ‘How am I supposed to feel?’ ” Conrad burst into shrill laughter. “I alreadyknew from taking peyote last winter, and I didn’t even want to feel like that again. But this is different. This is fun. This is a really good high.”

“The Doors of Perceptionis about peyote. Mescaline, actually. I’ve never had a major psychedelic.