Edan & Cari

Edan “Ed” or “Eddie” George Gale

Coppery redhead. Has some tattoos. Musician, intelligent. Blue eyes. Scar on lip. Military
background, served in Iraq/Afghanistan. Has an AA in Criminology and Justice Studies from
Miracosta College in Oceanside, which he attained after coming back from Afghanistan and
getting out of the military. He’s 5’ll”, with a solid built, naturally mesomorph/muscular
body. Attractive, but not gorgeous—and yeah, he’s a ginger. Not necessarily fulfilled with
this job but is glad to have one. Maybe some kind of MP or similar role in the military. In his
younger days/adolescence he was wild, into drinking/drugs/partying and could have gone
other way—maybe has a youth offender record. But joined military and was a way out of
for him out of that life. As a consequence views negative on drug use and wild/too much
free-spiritedness/lack of restraint. He kind of let some dreams and ambitions go because of
that—musical ambitions. Guitar player—punk rock/rock music. Clever mind, well-read in
philosophy, quantum-type science stuff, political theory---kind of missed the boat on being
an academic or pursuing a higher degree. He may have some kind of academic training
through the military but not that much. Parents were/are conservative Christians and I
suspect Edan was very rebellious and kind of a fuckup to them when he was younger,
before the military. Has a sister, who was the non-fuckup and is now married (w/kids) and
a teacher in a religious school/Christian academy. While I think Edan has an okay
relationship with his family I don’t think he respects or shares many of their beliefs vis a vis
religion and political stances. He believes in morality and moral certitude on many topics
but he is not religious. Politically, he would be a conservative Democrat or socially
progressive libertarian. From Oceanside, CA. Sister is named Evony Dekker. (Husband: Paul
Dekker---an insurance agent, 2 kids, a boy and girl. Jasmine, age 6; Caleb, age 9)—Charleen
and Douglas Gale. Father is in housing construction management and mother is a
nutritionist for the city school system. Romantic background: at least one solid relationship,
originating in his late teens, Brittany Rask, who was going to wait for him to come home,
but while he was gone she fucked around, which he found out about later. He had married
her, but when he came back she had gotten married to someone else too, so technically was
a bigamist. She said he had changed (like, no shit) and so she didn’t love him anymore. It
was a very sad mess and it hurt him badly, and he hasn’t had any inclination to be involved
with anyone since. I think he may be down on the female sex in general right now. Due to
his behavioral issues (and refusal to get clean) his parents kicked him out of the house at
16. He lived rough for awhile, very streetwise. Had a juvenile record.

School history: His parents go to Lighthouse Christian Church, and send both Edan and
Evony to Lighthouse Christian School. He got kicked out of there, so they send him to a
private Christian homeschool school, Living Waters Academy. He got kicked out of there, so
they sent him to boarding school at St Catherine’s Military Academy in Anaheim. He ran
away from there, so they decided to let him go to public school, Oceanside High School,
which he failed out of there, so finally ended up at Ocean Shores Continuation School.

Douglas & Charleen “Char” Gale, 1607 Whaley St, Oceanside, CA 92054 (Edan & Evony)

Name: Edan George Gale

Age: 30 yrs old
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 165, mesomorph, athletic build
Birth date: December 26, 1984
Birthplace: Oceanside, CA
Color hair: coppery red, thick
Color eyes: blue
Scars or Handicaps (Physical, Mental, Emotional): scar on upper left lip
Other distinguishing traits (Smells, voice, skin, hair, etc.): always smells of soap, very
clean and scrubbed, strong handshake, off center smile—one corner raises higher than the
other, sensual lips—full lower lip, tattoos, all blackwork: chambered nautilus, Polynesian
design which goes from his forearm up his arm, over his pec and around his nipple (right
side) it’s a tribal design but there is a Polynesian-styled shark and Polynesian manta ray, on
the other arm there’s a chambered nautilus, a jellyfish, and a pterois/lionfish. These are
tattoos he got in his teens, because one of his high school friends (and big stoner) was a kid
named Mickey Lotomau. Mickey is Samoan, and his cousin was a tattoo artist. And yeah,
they were paid for mostly in exchange for drugs.
Educational background: Barely graduated from high school (but he had drug/alcohol
issues then—finally got through via Ocean Shores Continuation High School), AA degree in
Criminology and Justice Studies from Miracosta College in Oceanside. He was trained in the
military, the Law Enforcement Military Police (MP) Course at the United States Army
Military Police School (USAMPS) at Fort Leonard Wood, MO, which lasts is about 10 weeks.
Boot Camp : 13 weeks, Marine Combat Training 3 weeks, then 10 weeks at USAMPS.
Work experience: various odd jobs around the neighborhood to earn money to buy a
surf board (hung out at Surf Ride and a guitar shop (Dusty’s Guitars), might have even
worked informally at either Surf Ride or Dusty’s. Selling pot, work & training in the military
as a MP, AA in Criminology, “manager” of a halfway home for recently released female
offenders. As an MP: Typical duties include foot and motorized patrol, control of pedestrian
and vehicular traffic, flight line security, crime prevention/physical security, desk sergeant,
communications dispatcher, squad leader, operations sergeant, platoon sergeant, and
provost sergeant billets.
Military service: 8 years in the Marine Corps, left with a staff sergeant rank
Marital Status (Include reasons): Divorced, ex is Brittany Rask. They married before he
went overseas, but while he was still on active duty she married someone else, making her
technically a bigamist.
 Best friend: Brad Daniels, deceased (father: Rocky Daniels, marine)
Men/women friends: childhood friends Chris Chavez (surf crew, the band), Jason
Chambliss (St Catherine’s), Mickey Lotomau (Oceanside High School, surf crew, the band),
Jordi Villasenor (Oceanside HS, a surfer/skater), Rock Daniels Jr., older friends Andre Tighe
(surfer), Jesus “Chuy” Bustos (surfer, the band), John “Jinky” Hallett (surfers)
Enemies (Include why): Not fond of his ex-wife, Cari for awhile, Zach R, political
hardliners of either party, Christian fundamentalists that try to drive social policy, people
that are racist esp. disguised white liberal racists, corporate or moneyed assholes, people
that have an attitude about addicts or want to cut funding, big meathead jingoists get on his
nerves, guys that treat women badly or just use them for sex/crude sexist pussyhounds that
ruin it for everyone else, people that think they’re above the law because of their wealth or
professional/social position
Parents (Who? Where? Alive? Relationship?): Douglas & Charleen Gale, both are alive
and live in Oceanside. Dad does Promisekeeper stuff and his mother is big into Women of
Faith. Their relationship used to be strained and they had thrown him out of the house, but
that has been repaired since Ed got clean and turned his life around
Present problem: coping with his attraction to Cari, and that fact that he doesn’t
understand how she processes things and that getting involved with her means moving out
of his comfort zone
Greatest fear: living a dull, meaningless life that amounts to nothing
How will problem get worse? That he finally does make a move to get closer to her and
it ends up making things worse, as she reads it as more small-mindedness on his part
Strongest character traits: easy-going person that can get along with a variety of
different people, generally fair-minded, perseverance, self-reliant
Weakest character traits: too self-reliant—hard to break through to his gooey
emotional center, not easily able to understand that people don’t see or understand things
that are obvious to him, can be cold
Sees self as: self-reliant, not a chump, down to earth, doesn’t think himself outstandingly
special in anyway, either athletically or intellectually, which makes him more dismissive of
people that aren’t in good shape or understand/see the things he obviously does
Is seen by others as: a hardass, intolerant, uncompromising (but fair), rigid in his
beliefs, arrogant, particularly about his intelligence, somewhat of a macho asshole,
enigmatic/closed off, hard to know (which he doesn’t see in himself at all—he thinks he’s
an open book)
Sense of humor: Dry, wry and sarcastic
Basic nature: thoughtful, inquisitive, logical, balanced but a little aloof
Ambitions: to make a decent living doing a job that at minimum doesn’t dull his intellect
and to live in a relatively stress-free manner that allows him to indulge in his passions
(surfing, playing guitar, and independent intellectual inquiry)
Philosophy of life (Include how it came to be): 1). The ultimate freedom is in making
your own choices, but you also have to bear the consequences as well—this is what
freedom means. You aren’t really free if you dodge consequences 2). Life and time itself
flows as surely as the ocean does---and it can be hard and brutal, ready to eat you, crush
you, spit you out. How you survive and actually “rush” is by making your way with the flow,
navigating the flow. 3) Live in moment, always—follow the flow. 4) Don’t do anything half-
assed—following the flow requires focus, and when you’re fully focused you become part of
the flow; you’re “in the zone”, and that’s the ultimate meaning and happiness in life. -- As
how this came to be, it is a mix of finally deciding to get his life together after his
misbegotten youth and working in the justice/corrections world (#1); 2-4—being a surfer
that’s done a lot of philosophical reading and contemplation.
Hobbies: Playing guitar, surfing, reading science and philosophy, going to the
gym/staying in shape
Preferred type of music, art, movies & reading material: music is punk, some of his
favorite artists (and among those you might find on his t-shirts): The Clash, Ramones, Meat
Puppets, Subhumans, Dead Kennedys, Minor Threat, Minutemen, Bad Religion, Richard
Hell, Buzzcocks, Black Flag, Agnostic Front, Bad Brains, Flipper, Lagwagon, Social
Distortion, Johnny Thunders, Stiff Little Fingers, Lou Reed, Television, Suicide, The
Adolescents, Green Day, Blink 182, Anti-Flag, System of a Down, Godsmack, Incubus, Tool,
Rage Against the Machine, Pennywise, Reel Big Fish, Rise Against, Against Me!, Sublime, The
Wipers, Rancid, Radiohead. Songs he is known to play and that Ono Fetu might have played:
Adolescents - Kids of the Black Hole
Richard Hell – Love Comes in Spurts
Wipers – Potential Suicide
MC5 – Teenage Lust
Stooges – Down on the Street
Black Flag - Slip It In
Bad Brains – At the Movies
Television - See No Evil
Art: architecture and architectural designs, Escher, Tom Veiga, Heather Brown, Japanese art,
Dominique Amendola, Jay Alders, Mexican muralists Siqueiros, J.C. Orozco, Diego Rivera,
simple clean but bold lines

Movies: Chungking Express, Casino, Twelve Monkeys, Fargo, The Usual Suspects,
Trainspotting, Jackie Brown, American History X, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, Pi,
Go, eXistenZ, Thomas Crown Affair (the original, and Steve McQueen in general), American
Beauty, Three Kings, Amores Perros, Battle Royale, Tigerland, Unbreakable, Endless
Summer, Riding Giants, Step Into Liquid, Apocalypse Now, Morning of the Earth, Surfwise,
The Forgotten Coast, Second Thoughts, Bustin’ Down the Door

Books: The Story of Philosophy (Will Durant), Why I Am Not a Christian (B. Russell), A Brief
History of Time (S. Hawking), Frankenstein (M. Shelley), The Blind Watchmaker (R.
Dawkins), Hiding in the Mirror (L. Krauss), Jesus’ Son (D. Johnson), Consciousness Explained
(D. Dennett), Animal Farm (G. Orwell), Letters to a Young Contrarian (C. Hitchens), Contact
(C. Sagan), Just Six Numbers (M. Rees), The Last Three Minutes (P. Davies), Flow: The
Psychology of Optimal Experience (M. Csikszentmihalyi), Fluid Mechanics (R. Granger),
Fahrenheit 451 (R. Bradbury), The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Jean-Dominique Bauby),
The Dharma Bums (J. Kerouac), Guns Germs and Steel (J. Diamond), No Exit (J. P. Sartre), The
Art of War (Sun Tzu), The Tipping Point (M. Gladwell), The Forever War (J. Haldeman), Food
of the Gods (T. McKenna), Godel Escher Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid (D. Hofstadter), Surf
Skate and Rock Art of Jim Phillips (J. Phillips), The Golden Compass (P. Pullman), Empire Falls
(R. Russo), The Long Goodbye (R. Chandler), Fear and Loathing in Los Vegas (H.S.
Thompson), Invisible Man (R. Ellison), Catch-22 (J. Heller), Johnny Got His Gun (D. Trumbo),
From Bauhaus to Our House (T. Wolfe), World War Z (M. Brooks), Flatland (E. Abbot), The
Smartest Guys in the Room (B. McLean), Into the Wild (J. Krakauer), American Pastoral (P.
Roth), The Cider House Rules(J. Irving), The Road (M. McCarthy), Kafka on the Beach (H.
Murakami), Infinite Jest (D.F. Wallace), The Sun Also Rises (E. Hemingway), American Gods
(N. Gaiman), A Confederacy of Dunces (J.K. Toole), In Cold Blood (T. Capote), Welcome to the
Monkey House (K. Vonnegut), The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay (M. Chabon), An
Album of Fluid Motion (Milton Van Dyke), Saltwater Buddha: A Surfer's Quest to Find Zen on
the Sea (Jaimal Yogis), West of Jesus: Surfing, Science, and the Origins of Belief (Steven
Kotler), In Search of Captain Zero: A Surfer's Road Trip Beyond the End of the Road (Allan
Weisbecker), Surfing Mavericks: The Unofficial Biography of Jay Moriarity (Ryan August),
The Fear Project: What Our Most Primal Emotion Taught Me About Survival, Success, Surfing .
. . and Love (Jaimal Yogis), Surf Science (Tony Butt), You Should Have Been Here an Hour Ago:
The Stoked Side of Surfing or How to Hang Ten Through Life and Stay Happy (Phil Edwards--
**His favorite surfer!!**), Scratching the Horizon: A Surfing Life (Izzy Paskowitz), Making
Mavericks: The Memoir of a Surfing Legend (Frosty Hesson), Force of Nature: Mind, Body,
Soul, And, of Course, Surfing (Laird Hamilton), Pipe Dreams: A Surfer’s Journey (Kelly
Slater), Cosmic Banditos (A.C. Weisbecker), Welcome to Paradise, Now Go to Hell: A True
Story of Violence, Corruption, and the Soul of Surfing (Chas Smith), Eddie Would Go: The
Story of Eddie Aikau, Hawaiian Hero and Pioneer of Big Wave Surfing (Stuart Holmes
Coleman), The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks, and Giants of the Ocean (Susan Casey),
Swell: A Year of Waves (Evan Slater), Deep in the Wave: A Surfing Guide to Soul (Bear
Woznick), All for a Few Perfect Waves: The Audacious Life and Legend of Rebel Surfer Miki
Dora (david Rensin), LeRoy Grannis. Surf Photography of the 1960s and 1970s (Steve
Barilotti), The Devil's Teeth: A True Story of Obsession and Survival Among America's Great
White Sharks (Susan Casey), No Bad Waves: Talking Story with Mickey Munoz (Yvon
Chouinard), Surf Travel: The Complete Guide: The Planet's 50 Most Thrilling Surf
Destinations (Chris Powers), Fierce Heart: The Story of Makaha and the Soul of Hawaiian
Surfing (Stuart Holmes Coleman), Ghost Wave: The Discovery of Cortes Bank and the Biggest
Wave on Earth (Chris Dixon)

Dialog tag (Idioms used, speech traits, e.g. “you know”): Drawl/drag in his voice, “the
fuck” as an exclamation/question, saying NOW as a separate word/command. His voice and
get very firm and scary (military thing), use of military terms/slang, surfer slang
Dress: Business casual: oxford shirts, twill chinos, has a few ties if he ever needs them,
oxford shoes, all from a mid-range department store; in free time, regular fit jeans, cargo
pants/shorts, polo shirts, old music/band t-shirts, plain fleece hoodie, athletic wear, boxers
guy. Around his house he probably goes around barefoot & boxers or outright nude. Not a
fashion plate, doesn’t care about any of that.
Favorite colors: neutrals, blue, green
Pastimes/Likes: Good espresso, dodgy hole in the wall Mexican food, fluid dynamics
(“the flow”), philosophy tracts, presently veg*n food
Description of home (Physical and the “feel”): casual but very clean and organized,
fairly minimalist, surf posters and surf/ocean inspired art posters. Done in colors neutrals,
blue and green. Other decor would be his surf board and his guitar (on holder rack), a
modest collection of cds & books on simple bookshelves, and a netbook computer, maybe
hybrid bike. Drives a 2010 blue/gray Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution.
Most important thing to know about this character: He’s a dreamer that’s tied to the
earth, which makes him someone that can actually implement his plans; however at the
moment he’s been held back by his inability to be open to change.
One-line characterization: strong, smart and self-reliant but in need of someone or
something that inspires him

Key Questions:

What trait will make this character come alive, and why? I think his past, which
shows how he became so assured and self-reliant.
Why is this character different from other similar characters? A mix of street smarts
and books smarts, largely self-taught, much more a free spirit than Eric.
Do I like/dislike this character, and why? I like him because he’s principled, brave and
self-reliant, so much more so than I am.
Will readers like/dislike this character for the same reasons? He has his downsides,
such as judgementalism, but I think they will like him because he’s willing to be fair and
thoughtful
Characters who are remembered are those who are strong in some way—saints,
sinners or a combination. For what will this character be remembered? That he was
willing to take risks, even the risk to follow his dreams and open himself up to someone so
different from him and that he had a previous animus towards.

Edan’s timeline

Born December 26, 1984

1985 – turns 1 at end of year
1986 – turns 2 at end of year
1987 – turns 3 at end of year
1988 – turns 4 at end of year
1989 – turns 5 at end of year
1990 – 5-6, starts kindergarten at Lighthouse Christian School
1991 – 6-7, stars 1st grade
1992 – 7-8, starts 2nd grade
1993 – 8-9, starts 3rd grade
1994 – 9-10, starts 4th grade

1995 – 10-11, starts 5th grade, kicked out of Lighthouse, goes to Living Waters Academy

1996 – 11-12, starts 6th grade (Aug ’96-May ’97)—at Living Waters

1997 – 12-13, starts 7th grade – Over the summer goes with the older boys to Santa Cruz,
invoking his dad’s ire) (Aug ’97-September’97—kicked out of Living Waters), send to St
Catherine’s. Buys Chuy’s guitar this year.

1998 – 13-14, starts 8th grade, then skips to 9th grade – runs away from St. Catherine’s, tests
out of 8th and starts 9th grade at Oceanside High School. Starts 8th grade Aug ’98, runs away
in Dec ’98) Lost his virginity to one of his friends from St Catherine’s sister, Jason Chambliss
(Melissa Chambliss). He stayed a little bit over the summer with Jason (who lived in
Pasadena), and this is when he started seriously partying and drinking and toking. This is
also the year Joy Daniels dies of breast cancer and the family moves to a different part of
town, say in late July, and they move in early November.

1999 – 14-15, starts 10th grade (enrolls in Oceanside HS in Jan ’99, and 10th grade in Aug
’99)

2000 – 15-16, starts 11th grade

2001 – 16-17, starts 12th grade – kicked out of parents’ house, lives on streets, drops out of
Oceanside High School. (Edan really ran wild this summer. When he started senior year in
Aug ’01 he hadn’t stopped partying. Was caught impaired in September. They call his
parents and his father kicks him out that day. He muddles thru for awhile, say until mid to
late October, then drops out. He sold drugs, hung around different places. It was kind of a
drag to stay at the Daniels’ place, and it was sty with the dad, Rock and Brad there. He plays
guitar with the remainder of the punk band and other stuff, makes a little money but not
much. Most of the money is coming from selling pot here and there. This is when he starts
getting his tattoos from Issac Lotomau. The band name was Ono Fetu (“Six Stars”)

2002 – Death of Brad Daniels. 17-18, returns to complete 12th grade at Ocean Shores
Continuation High School. Rock headed off to Marine boot camp in April. Brad Daniels dies
on June 22, 2002. Enrolls at Ocean Shores and completes at end of May ’03.

2003 – 18-19, joins 1st year service – at urging of Brad’s dad joins the service and is sent to
MCRD San Diego, CA, this is in June ‘03. Most of ’03 is spent in training.

2004 – 19-20, 2nd year of service. Assigned to 89th Military Police Brigade/978th Military
Police Company, 140th Military Police Battalion, of Fort Hood, Texas--the 89th Military
Police Brigade deployed to Iraq in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom early 2004, where it
took over the mission previously tasked to the 18th Military Police Brigade on 31 January
2004. At that time the brigade assumed responsibility for the Iraqi Police training mission
as well as the majority of all the Military Police Units in Iraq at that time. The unit returned
to Fort Hood in December 2004. The 89th Military Police Brigade deployed for a second
tour in August 2006 to the Iraqi theater of operation in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom
2006–2008. During the deployment, it was composed of over 5,000 military police soldiers
in the theater. Brigade responsibilities included corrections and security operations. It
deployed K-9 units during some operations. The brigade's primary responsibility, though,
was the training of Iraqi police units. The brigade focused on local police units throughout
the country, as another MP brigade handled the national police. It suffered several
casualties, including a soldier killed by sniper fire, a soldier killed by a suicide car bomb,
and two soldiers who died of non-combat related causes. The brigade returned home in
October 2007, replaced again by the 18th Military Police Brigade. After this, the brigade
resumed its policing roles at Fort Hood. During its second deployment, one of the unit
commanders, William H. Steele, became infamous for being accused of breaching military
law by aiding the enemy. He was acquitted of the charges, though he was convicted of other
charges and subsequently dismissed from the military. The 410th Military Police Company
deployed to Afghanistan in May 2009 and returned in May 2010. (he left service in June of
2010.)
“Most units rotate trough a cycle on a base. Here at Ft. Leonard Wood we have a pretty
average cycle. One month Law Enforcement, one month Access Control, One month
training. During the “Access control” month we work the gates checking ID’s. We issue
passes and ensure that only authorized personnel and their vehicles enter the post. During
the Law Enforcement month we patrol the base in vehicles and on foot. We respond to 911
calls and general complaints. We use RADAR to enforce speed laws and of course watch
stop signs for violations. The training month is used to prepare for field missions. These can
consist of basic soldier skills or advanced unit specific missions. Some units train to escort
POW’s during war, others train to support forward units in finding their way. A unit may be
tasked with setting up a holding compound (think Camp X-Ray) for prisoners or detainees.
A big question I get asked is, “Are you treated differently as an MP”. The answer is yes and
no. Some people are afraid to approach police officers. They picture us all a mean, power
hungry people. Others love to taunt cops. Most people are indifferent to us though. They
know we are around… they just don’t think about us much. We are by the nature of our
duties different though. While many people sleep or take holidays, we work the roads and
gates. 24 hours a day you can find a crew of MP’s standing guard or working a beat. 365
days a year you can call the MP station and get a dispatcher on the phone. That’s the nature
of MP work.”
2004---He was in Iraq.

2005 – 20-21, 3rd year of service – He was at Ft. Bliss, El Paso.

2006 – 21-22, 4th year of service. – Gets word he’s being sent overseas, marries Brittany
Rask in July ’06. Brittany is from El Paso.
In Iraq from August ’06-Oct ‘07

2007 – 22-23, 5th year of service – in Iraq until October.

2008 – 23-24, 6th year of service – Becomes a staff sergeant/Staff Sergeant (SSgt)

2009 – 24-25, 7th year of service – In Afghanistan from May 2009 to May ‘10

2010 – 25-26, 8th year of service – In Afghanistan until May, leaves service in June, reunites
with Brittany, figures out Brittany’s been with another guy, divorces Brittany

2011 – 26-27, 1st year of college at Mira Costa

2012 – 27-28, 2nd year of college at Mira Costa, gets his degree

2013 – 28-29, starts career with Dept of Corrections

2014 – 29-30, present day, 2nd year with his job

Edan—
The Gales live about a block away from the beach and from an early age Edan had gone to
hang out there and watch the surfers and body boarders. His best friend lived a few houses
down, the Daniels family, son Brad his own age. Brad has an older brother Rocky, Jr. who
just goes by “Rock”. Rock is a surfer and a good one, and he taught both younger brother
Brad and Edan to surf, and basically let the two of them hang around with his older surfer
friends. Rock is kind of an interesting character as is his social circle. They are into punk
rock and anarchism and weird non-conformist stuff. Some of Rock’s circle even tried to
form their own surf/skate punk band, not very successfully because they sucked pretty bad.
The older guy Chuy was supposed to be the guitar player and he couldn’t play worth a
damn but Edan seemed to have an affinity for it, and at some point the band folds and Chuy
lets Edan have the guitar in exchange for doing his math homework/other homework.
(About the Daniels family there’s Rocky Sr, whose a military guy, his wife Joy Daniels, an
older sister Colleen who is mentally or physically disabled, Rock Jr, and Brad. At some point
Joy (who was kind of a hippie type, ironically paired up with military man Rocky) is
diagnosed with breast cancer and dies, devastating the family as she is the one who took
care of the daughter and the family was very close and Joy was the anchor of the family.
They end up having to put the daughter into some kind of facility and the family moves to a
different part of town, but the boys still stay in touch and of course are also at the beach
together.)
1995. He’s 10yrs old, and as of August has started 5th grade at Lighthouse Christian School.
He gets booted around November, for mostly being argumentative. He really didn’t get
along with the teacher at all, her name was Mrs. Barkner. It was suggested to Douglas &
Char that Edan be moved somewhere we he could get more “personal” attention—aka, they
booted him, but it was kept amicable. This was incredibly embarrassing for his parents,
since this was their church. But they found a private Christian homeschool academy called
Living Waters. His teacher was Mary Tinsley. It was clear to the teacher that Edan was
advanced academically but he was also a first class pain in the ass. He was argumentative in
regards to religion, and this was not gently tolerated as it might have been in a different
school setting—at his place it was just disruptive. If the teacher could have legally strung
him up, she would have. He was asked to leave in early September 1997—he had a
particularly nasty fight with Mrs. Tinsley and she called his mother, told her to come get
him and she was done with him; he was 12yrs old. Douglas and Char were not pleased, esp.
as that summer Edan has started to run around with some older boys on the beach (at least
they found out about it at this time) and they thought they were a bad influence, with the
music and the anarchist reading material, and he had hitched a ride with the group up to
Pleasure Point in Santa Cruz over the summer. He had asked to go and his dad said no way,
but Edan snuck off and left with them. His dad hunted all over for him, then realized the
little bastard had gone off with that older crowd. Douglas tracked him down after they’d
been up there 2 days. He’d called around the hotels, wasn’t even sure what name it’d be
under—turns out they were actually sleeping in their car and he was only able to find out
where they were because one of the kids had a Motorola StarTAC phone. Douglas drove up
there to get him, tried to argue with him on the phone that what was the point in come up
there when they were coming home in a couple days anyway? And then he had to get off the
phone because they were using up the battery. But Dad drove up there 7 hours to get him,
and when they got home he spanked him. During the car ride his dad was asking him
questions, like where did they stay (in the car), how did you eat (i had a little money, but it’s
okay, when you run down on money you can take ketchup packets or mayo packets for free,
and esp the ketchup if you mix it with water it’s kinda like tomato soup. His father is just
appalled, shocked and appalled that his son would know about this stuff, and he wonders
where the hell and how they hell he learned it. (technically it was an 8 hour drive home, so
when they got him they just went to bed, but the next day/early morning his dad came into
his room and spanked him, for the first time in years, and he got physically disciplined a
bunch more times by his dad the rest of that summer. Edan was supposed to be grounded
for the rest of the summer and took his surfboard away but he would sneak out anyway and
go down to The Church and try to borrow someone’s board or just hang out. His dad was
regularly belting him for misbehavior at this point, something that his parents had never
really done except for very serious things, and rarely. They knew they were at a point
decided to send him to St Catherine’s boarding Academy in Anaheim after he got booted
from Living Waters. Edan was not happy and did not want to go. (And this was a hard
decision for Doug and Char as it was a catholic school, but it was closer than the one in
Salina, KS). Edan started at St. Catherine’s in late September 1997, at age 12. He turned 13
in late 1997. Summer of 1998 is when he started getting seriously into drinking and pot
and was also when he lost his virginity with an older black girl named Melissa, sister of his
friend Jason Chambliss, to the song “Pony” by Ginuwine. This is when he spent about a
week staying with Jason in the summer, in Pasadena. He also slept with a series of chubby
Latina girls that didn’t speak very good English, the latter of which he attributes his great
success in seducing them—easier to fool them that he was as smooth operator and knew
what he was doing. (This was in Oceanside, later in the summer. His first sexual experience
was more awkward and confusing than outright pleasurable, and he was anxious to try
again.) His parents had no idea what was going on as he was successful in hiding his
activities. He started back at St Catherine’s in August of 1998, age 13, 8th grade. He ran away
around mid-December, December 19, 1998. What precipitated it was he got into a conflict
with a thug boy that was older than the rest of the boys in his class and was kind of a bully
to the others. Edan set the kid up—he knew he couldn’t fight the thug kid without getting
his ass kicked. So Edan arranged it that before the actual beatdown happened Captain
Ramos would stumble on them and break it up. And this was partly successful, because it
got broken up by an old school nun, Sister Mary Rose of Lima and she drug him off into a
separate room and slapped him. He had had beef with her—she was a real rightwing
religious zealot and knew Edan wasn’t buying that line. He told her, you can’t do that. She
said oh yes she can, and if he says anything no one will side with him, implying to his mind
that she would deny she’d hit him. He replied, I thought it was a sin to lie, or something to
that effect, really smartass, and she popped him again, harder this time. He said, I’ve been
kicked out of 2 other schools, kick me out of this one. She said, oh no, no they will straighten
him out here. He said, well he’ll run. And she laughed at him, said he couldn’t, no one ever
had and he wasn’t going to be the first. But he planned it and pulled it off. (Private 1 st class
E. Gale, Charlie Company). He slipped out, was wearing the dress pants with the stripe
down them, dress shoes, and was wearing his school shirt under his dress shirt. He ditched
the dress shirt, tie and side cap, down to his t-shirt (with the school name) that he turned
inside out. The first thing he did was head down to the beach, Huntington Beach more
specifically. He had no money, nothing, but he hoped to find someone down by the beach
surfing or at Jack’s Surfboards that he either recognizes. Even if he manages to get some
money off of someone he’s afraid to call Brad’s place because maybe his dad will answer, or
in general any of his friends—he doesn’t want to get them in trouble. But he’s trying to find
some older guys that can get ahold of his older friends and maybe they can come get him or
one of them is heading south. So he’s asking various surfer guys in wetsuits if they know
Rock Daniels or Jinky from Oceanside. No hits. He’s afraid to spend too long just hanging on
the beach because he knows police will have been alerted that he’s missing. He spends the
night curled up sleeping somewhere out of sight. He’s cold and hungry, but he figures he’s
going to find someone that knows his friends tomorrow. No luck, and now he’s really
hungry. At night he would walk away from the beach and look for a place private and
protected to crash—behind a wall/ledge under an underpass. He tries to be scarce during
the early hours when someone might wonder what a kid is doing down at the beach, but
he’ll go into businesses for a while to get out of the weather for a while. He manages to
discreetly swipe food leftover at food places, left on the table. And sits at a table with a tray
and empty wrapper to not be out of place, pretending to be picking or drinking (water).
Then hits the beach again. On the 3rd day he’s starting to think maybe he should try to head
down to try to get to Salt Creek because maybe someone will know his friends there. But of
course that’s 30 miles away. And Salt Creek doesn’t have a close urban area to hide out in or
get food. But he knows he has to get out of Huntington Beach because not only is he not
finding people who know his friends, but he’s going to be noticed and police are going to
catch him. A guy approaches him, this is on day 4. Edan feels really dirty (he probably feels
worse than he looks). It’s a guy that tries to chat him up. Edan isn’t stupid, he knows
something’s up. He studies the guy, slight build, a little fat, Asian. He doesn’t look strong.
Edan thinks he can fight him off if something goes south. Guy offers to feed him, let him
sleep somewhere warm, to take a shower. Edan goes with him. The guy is a younger guy, a
little porky though. Probably not that much older than Rock or Jinky and his older friends.
Maybe 23 or 24. Edan is still 13, a few days away from being 14. He tells the guy he’s 16. So
obviously the guy wants something from him. The guy asks to see his body, that he’s
beautiful. So Edan does, and then he wants to suck Edan off. So Edan thinks, yeah, okay. He
cleans up at the place. He’s on the guys couch, guy says if he doesn’t want to sleep with him
can stay on the couch. Edan discreetly nabs a knife from the guy’s kitchen drawer and lays
down, fully clothed. Once he thinks the guys’ asleep (and Edan is good at stealth; he’s been
sneaking out of his parents’ house for years) he gets up and finds a little bit of money, like
$3 in loose change. So he takes that puts it in his sock so it won’t jingle, takes his socks off
and puts back on his shoes without socks. He also finds an amount of pot (the guy might
have shared some pot with him but Edan didn’t do much because he didn’t want to be
impaired around the guy. Since the loose change isn’t enough to really get him anywhere, he
takes the pot and figures he can sell it and make money to get further south, to Salt Creek or
Cottons or Upper Trestles. He especially doesn’t want to hang around Huntington Pier after
he stole this guy’s drugs. But he decides to head north, at someplace that has an urban area
to disappear into and get food. He takes a bus up to Hermosa Beach Pier/Manhattan Beach
Pier/Redondo Beach Pier-The Breakwater/(Zeroes-Nicholas Canyon Beach, Malibu). He
hangs out there, sells some pot, doesn’t find anyone he knows or that knows his friends.
And he starts to feel really unsafe there, not from cops but from just the flavor of the area.
Spends two days there, goes further north, 1 day there, no one know his friends but he
hears Zeroes is getting good waves—he knows this is an out of the way area, but tries it. He
takes off his shoes, is walking around, doing the usual asking anyone with a surfboard and
wetsuit if they know his friends. Then he hears someone call his name—it’s his dad. This
was December 27, 1998. Edan actually feels relief. His dad has his shoes in his hand. His
dad had been looking for him on various beaches, driving up every day. He saw his shoes,
knew they were his shoes. His dad asks, “Where have you been?” Edan doesn’t answer, his
Dad takes him by the shoulders, hugs him. Dad asks, “Where are your socks?” as Edan slips
on his shoes. “In my pocket”, Edan replies. They walk to where the car is parked. (it’s a 1996
light gold metallic Dodge Stratus---Edan has been gone 8 days total) Once they get up to the
car Doug opens the passenger car door and Edan starts to get in, his dad turns him around
by the shoulders and pushes him down flat, it’s so quick and unexpected Edan is shocked,
doesn’t react. His dad digs in Edan’s pants pockets and pulls out the socks, one has money
in it and the other what’s left of the pot. His dad is just livid—Edan stares up at his face—
it’s radiating fury. His dad says, “Do you know what would have happened if the police
found you? You’d go to jail! Jail! Maybe that’s where you should be!” Edan opens his mouth
but his Dad jams his finger in his face says, “Don’t say one word! Don’t dare!” Then his dad
back away, says, “Sit up!” Edan gets up and sits in the car as his dad comes around the
driver side, gets in. He pulls out his Motorola and calls his wife. Edan can hear her crying.
She wants to talk to him, but his dad says, “Not now. We’ll be home soon. Call the detective
and let them know he’s home.” Then they pull away. It’s a 2 hour drive home and his father
doesn’t speak to him at all. Edan wonders if he’s going to beat him when they get home. His
dad has a Crystal Lewis cd on the player, and the song “Beauty for Ashes” comes on, and for
once, for a little bit, it has meaning to him. When they get home his mother grabs him, takes
his face stares into his face, then kisses his face over and over. Then she withdraws, stares at
him some more and her face hardens and she draws back her hand to slap him across the
face. Dad says, “Char.” And she stops and pulls her hand back. Sister Evony (9-10 yrs old)
comes in, says “Eddie!” And hugs him, says, “You stink!” then “Where were you?!” Dad tells
Edan, “Go take a shower and wait in your room. I’ll come up and get you later. Your mother
and I need to talk.” So Edan does, lays down on his bed, looks around his room, the posters,
the belongings (what? Baseball pennant? Sports equipment? Toys?—Tamagochi, pokemons,
k’nex) and realizes he’s a completely different person now. He feels like he’s aged 10 years
in 8 days. He wonders what his parents are going to do. He’s pretty sure it’s going to involve
a beating from one or both of them. But one thing’s for sure: he’s not going back to St.
Catherine’s. He dozes off. After a couple hours his dad comes up, knocks on his door, walks
in. Edan jolts up from the knock, looks at his dad. Dad says, “Let’s go.” Edan asks, “Where?”
Dad: “Downstairs.” Edan gets up, follows his dad downstairs. His mother is sitting at the
living table, dad pulls out a chair, says, “Sit.” Then sits across from her, next to his mother.
C: “What happened, Eddie?”
E: “Uh...One of the nuns hit me. So I left.”
C: “She hit you? Why?”
E: “She’s never liked me.”
D: “They won’t have you back.”
E: “Good.”
D: (lips twist) “We’re running out of options for you, son.”
C: “We’re sorry it’s come to this.”
E: “To what?”
C: “St John’s.”
E: “No. No, I won’t do it.”
D: “It’s not a matter of your choice.”
E: “But it’s in Kansas.”
D: “No beaches for you to run away to there, are there?”
E: “Then where will you know to look for me when I ditch the place?”
D: (lips twist even more prominently)
C: “You’re not going to run away again, Eddie. Promise us.”
E: “I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”
D: (slams palm down on the table) “You won’t be running away from a correctional facility
so easily, I’ll tell you that!”
C: “What?” (looking at D, at E, then back to D)
D: (giving E a warning look—he hasn’t told his wife about the drugs) “Police don’t take
kindly to chronic runaways, Char.”
E: “Why can’t I just go to public school?” (his parents say nothing) “I know you don’t
approve of it, but it’s not like Christian schools have made any difference for me anyway.”
C: (sighs) “Eddie...”
E: “I wouldn’t run away from public school. That I will promise. I didn’t run away from
either of you, you know. I ran from the school, not you, Mom. Or Dad.” (parents look at each
other) “Please.”
D: “It might be a possibility worth considering.”
C: “You’d promise? And no more fighting with teachers?”
E: “I wasn’t fighting with teachers. If you can’t ask questions or have your own...”
D: “No matter what your own thoughts are, you need to treat your teachers with respect.”
E: “I do!” (C gets ready to say something) “Okay, listen. Whatever happened before, if you
send me to public school I promise not to argue with the teachers or run away. Okay? I
promise.”
C: “So if we send you to Lincoln Middle...”
E: “Lincoln?” (shakes his head) “No, no...”
D: “Stop interrupting your mother.”
E: “I’m sorry, Mom. But I don’t want to go to Lincoln.”
C: (pondering) “I’m not sure if they’ll allow you to go out of district or...”
E: “It’s not that I have a problem with Lincoln. I don’t want...”
D: (warning) “Edan. I shouldn’t have to tell you twice about respecting your mother.”
E: “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” (looks at his mother)
C: “So you’ll go to Lincoln if we decide to enroll you there?”
E: “Well, no. I was going to say, I don’t have a problem with Lincoln. And I really want to go
to public school. But I don’t want to go back to middle school. Any middle school.”
D: “Well, I’m not sure what the alternative would be, son.”
E: “High school. I could start high school.”
D: “You’re not old enough. You still have a year to go. Well, six months.”
E: “Yeah, but...”
D: “You can’t wait six months? Is that what you’re telling us?”
E: “No. No, that’s not....Look. I’m not trying to be willful or anything. It’s just I know...well, I’d
be bored in middle school.”
D: “Sometimes we have to deal with life’s little inconveniences, son.”
E: “But I can do better, Dad.”
D: “I’d like to see this ambition of yours in action.”
E: “Okay. You will, if you give me the opportunity.”
C: “What are you thinking here then, Eddie?”
E: “Let me test out of 8th grade and go into 9th. I can do it.”
D: “It’s the middle of the school year. You’d have to test into the second semester of 9th
grade, you know.”
E: “I know. I can. Or I can test out of 9th grade altogether.”
C: “I’m going to say “no” to that, sweetie. Grade levels aren’t just for academics; it’s also
maturity level.”
E: (abortive eye roll) “I know lots of immature high school kids, Mom.”
C: “If you can test into 9th grade, that’s fine. But that’s it, Eddie.”
E: “Okay.” (his parents look at each other)
D: “Give your mother and I some time to think about this, son. We’ll let you know what we
decide.”
E: “Okay.” (stands up) “Can I call Brad?”
D: “For right now I think you should go wait in your room.”
E: “Okay.” (goes upstairs)
(His parents come up about twenty minutes later. They agree they will let him test into 9 th
grade if he’s able, with the stipulation that he does what he promised: he’ll concentrate on
his studies and no more nonsense. Edan agrees. His dad stresses this is an agreement, a
mutual agreement, and he needs to hold up his end of it. If not, there will be serious
consequences. Edan says yes, he accepts. His dad then says...
D: “I’d like to talk with Edan a moment more, Char, if you don’t mind.”
C: “Oh. Of course.” (she goes back downstairs)
D: (closes the door) “I didn’t tell your mother about the drugs, Edan. And I’d like to keep it
that way, for her own peace and well-being.”
E: (pause) “Thank you.”
D: “Do not thank me. I’ll be clement about this this time. I’m not sure I should be. Was this
the first time?”
E: “The first time? (not sure if his dad means using or selling. He doesn’t want to offer up
the latter if his father doesn’t already know about that part.)
D: (irritated) “Yes. The first time.”
E: (his eyes dart involuntarily, pause, says slowly) “Yes.”
D: (obviously skeptical, knows it’s not the truth) “Edan. Don’t make me regret this day.”
E: “I won’t. I promise.”
D: “If you’re lying to me...”
E: “I’m not. I swear.”
D: “Don’t interrupt me.”
E: “I’m sorry.”
D: “This is your last chance. I mean that sincerely. I love you, son, but I’m not going to let
you take this whole family down with you.”
E: “I won’t. I promise.”

He gets into Oceanside High and does fairly well...for awhile. He falls in with an older group
of guys, beach guys/skater guys. Guys that not only hit the beach but also like to party.
Drinking and doing drugs. His crowd was Mickey Lotomau and Jordi Villasenor, amongst
other. When Edan was in 9th grade, they were in 11th grade. These were guys he started a
band with. He played a mix of lead and rhythm guitar and also sang. He was one of the more
talented people and one imagines without him it wouldn’t have gone very far. He would
hang with them on weekends practicing and just hanging out, partying, as well as
continuing to surf. Partying—drinking and smoking weed became a matter of course. He
also started to “date” a little, mostly sticking to ethnic girls—Latinas, Filipinas, or Samoans,
all a little chubby and somewhat crazy. He seemed to go into highly passionate girls with
extremes of emotions—a lot of frenzied sex but then they would turn on him with
screaming and slapping and chasing him down to swing and punch him. After his friends
got out of high school (which was when he started 11th grade) they begin trying to put more
effort into the band, among other things, and they started booking small gigs and so Edan
would go do that. His parents were aware he was doing this and they were happy for him,
but wouldn’t want to actually listen to this because they found the music too loud and
chaotic, and they would also impress on him that he has to keep up in his homework and
not think he can be a musician for a living. Edan’s grades were ok, B’s and occasional C’s
and A’s. He could have done better but the grades weren’t low enough for his parents to
crack down, and as far as they knew Edan did alot of reading around the house, which was
true—only he was doing what he always did: independent reading. The summer of 2001
was pretty wild and wooly—lots of partying, lots of running around with the surf punks
and the band. He never actually quit that by the time he started 12 th grade. One of his
friends had booze and weed and they were smoking and drinking during lunch break, and
Edan took a lot of alcohol in a short period of time, probably a drinking game, and it hit him
really hard a little while after he was back in school hours. It was quickly ascertained by the
teacher (Teacher asked what was up with him, kid next to him said, “He’s plowed”, and E
says, “Plowed? I’m not plowed. (laugh) I’m mowed. There’s no snow around here. This isn’t
Kansas!”(laughs)) that something was wrong and he got sent to the principal’s office, and
they called his mother. His mother came to pick him up and she was beside herself with
what to do. His dad came home early; Edan was up in his room and he could hear his
parents fighting/raising voices. It hurt his head, and made him feel like shit. He knew he
was in big, big trouble but wasn’t sure what would happen. Finally his dad stomped in and
had his arms crossed, clearly every shade of not happy. His dad told him there would be no
discussion anymore, that Edan had lied to him too many times before and now it was just a
matter of “yes” or “no” and the consequences of this decision where entirely up to him
(Edan). The question was: “Will you go into rehab/therapy?” Edan started to say, “Ok, look.
I’m not a drunk or addicted to anything, so...” but his Dad cut him off sharply, asking “Yes or
no?” Edan said, well “No”, and that’s when his Dad grabbed him by the upper arm and
started frog-marching him outside. Edan was shocked, surprised, not sure what was going
on. His dad told him no rehab, Edan won’t be living in his (his dad’s) home. Edan asks what
about his stuff—Dad lets him go get a trash bag from the kitchen (he looked towards his
mother and she refuses to look at him, keeps doing what she’s doing making supper). Edan
packs a few of his clothes and his guitar and some other stray things—he doesn’t want to
leave his board or other things but frankly he doesn’t know what he’s going to do or where
he’s going to go so can’t have his hands full. (Edan never had a car, just borrowed his
mother’s to do stuff, or road his skateboard to school.) He asked his about his other stuff,
and his dad told him he could call and make an appt to get the rest. (He does later have Brad
take him to pick up his surfboard and some other stuff.) He walked down to the nearest
phone he could use and called Brad, and Brad came and picked him up. He stayed at
different friends’ houses from there on. The first place he went of course was the Daniels’,
but to be honest that ended up being a drag to be there because with Rocky, Rock and Brad,
the place was a sty and Edan is kind of a neat freak. And plus the flavor of the place was
sad/somber, so Edan didn’t want to inconvenience them too long, even though he could
have stayed with them indefinitely. Edan originally thought this was just a “fight” and his
dad would get over it and he would move back home, but it didn’t happen. Edan tried to
keep up with school, would even call his mom and she would pick him up and drive him to
Oceanside High, even though it was kinda sorta on the sly and she wasn’t supposed to be
helping him. But by mid to late October he just dropped out all together. I think part of him
was thinking his parents would cave when they found out he’d dropped, and when they
didn’t, well, by that time he was with Jodi and Chris and Mickey and the other Samoan kid
in that punk band. He wasn’t making much money, and was just staying place to place,
sometime on the street sometime not. Honestly I think it mattered if he was impaired or
not; he certainly wouldn’t stroll into the Daniels’ or another friends/friends parents’ house
if he was drunk or stoned. He was selling pot here and there too, which was where most of
his money (not that there was much) came from. (Brad was still in 11 th grade at El Camino
HS so wasn’t hanging on with with Edan all the time.)
By 2002 Edan was still living that life, playing in Ono Fetu and selling pot and staying from
place to place. I think he was still seeing a series of chubby Latinas, Filipinas or Samoan
girls. (One of the girls was a Filipina named Girlie Rivera, another a Samoan girl named Tina
Vailili.) Sometime in April Rock Daniels left for basic training in San Diego, finally joined
(couldn’t find a decent job and was ready to live a normal life—he was about 24 at the time,
so about 6-7 years older than Edan and Brad.
June 22, 2002—something terrible happened. Edan had borrowed Brad’s car, and left Brad
(with his permission and knowledge) at a party. Edan went out to pick up his girlfriend
Girlie Rivera. He had just recently started seeing her after hopefully ditching crazy Tina
Vailili. (He’d gotten into a fight with Tina and she’d chased him down the street with a
decorative Samoan war club, thus convincing him to move on from the relationship.) So
Edan is making out with Girlie in Brad’s car, and they were supposed to meet up with Brad
later. Well, Brad got really drunk at that party and he kept trying to call Edan to pick him up
but Edan wasn’t picking up his TracFone (prepaid) because he was, of course, banging
Girlie. So Brad decided to just walk to the next hangout (I think they were going to move on
to another place where the band was going to play, another party?). Brad was walking along
the road, strayed into the road and was hit by a car. He died on impact. Edan had eventually
turned back on his phone and saw Brad had tried to call, called him back with no answer.
Finally drove over to the party and the people said Brad had took off on foot. Edan drove
around looking for him, came upon the accident scene. Police were already there, and Edan
did just see Brad’s body and knew instantly he was dead—almost like he could feel what
had been Brad was gone. He was devastated, to say the least. The police at that time didn’t
have an id on the body (no id on Brad) and Edan told them. Edan blamed himself for the
accident, if only he’d done this, or that. He was so ashamed, to have to even see or talk to
Rocky. Edan doesn’t like to talk about this, or even want to remember what happened
immediately after as his mind blocked it out and he wants to keep it that way. But I think he
had a breakdown, started shaking. He couldn’t drive; Girlie had to. He didn’t know where to
go, had her take him to Rocky’s. He was afraid Rocky would pound him into the ground
when he told him. Rocky hadn’t gotten the call yet, but when Edan walked in Rocky could
tell right away something had happened. Again, this is stuff Edan doesn’t like to discuss or
remember. Neither Rock nor Rocky ever blamed him for what happened. (Rock was in his
last couple weeks of boot camp and attended the funeral in dress uniform with no badging.)
When Doug & Char found out, they were in shock, it so easily could have been Edan. They
freaked, but weren’t sure how to approach him. They got together with Rocky, and Rocky
told them he’d handle it. Edan was coming to see Rocky quite often—he tried to stay away
out of shame, but Rocky hunted him down. Edan was kind of afraid of Rocky anyway. I think
right after the accident, he told Rocky and then Rocky left, to go the police, the hospital,
whatever. Edan went with, but just lying back in the car, almost comatose. At some point
someone must have told his parents, because they showed up at the police station. They
demand to take him home, that he come home with them. (They are of course shocked, and
try to comfort him.) He wasn’t 18 yet (birthday in December) so was still 17, underage. So
he went with them, didn’t have it in him for a sustained fight. But he left sometime in the
night—it was late when they got back and they sent him up to his room, to bed, all went to
bed. Doug said we’ll talk about this in the morning—and sometime in the night he snuck
off, left, so in the morning Char looked in and he was gone. Char wanted to look for him,
went to get dressed and go looking. Doug was pissed, but she left, didn’t listen when he told
her no. She was off driving half in her nightgown, couldn’t find him, but was look around
where the homeless people were. She came back eventually, and Doug was pissed. (because
that was kind of dangerous in his opinion). He said he’d look for him after work, take off
early. So Char was worried all day, distracted, Evony home and she could tell. When Doug
got off he went over to Rocky’s and talked to Rocky, but Edan wasn’t there. Rocky told him it
doesn’t do any good to try to force Edan to do anything. Anyway, that Doug or Char do that.
But he says, he can. He will. Rocky also has his tracphone number, which doug and char
don’t. Rocky calls but there’s no answer. Rocky says he’ll check around, find him. It’s not
that hard if you know where to look, who to talk to. So Doug drives home and tells Char this.
So Rocky calls a little later and Edan answers. Rocky asks where he is, flat commanding
voice. Edan tells him, he’s down by the Church, not surfing but just sitting out there. Stay
there, Rocky says. And then he drives over there, walks up. You been out here? Edan says
yeah, he slept out there all night. Rocky says, you like sand up your butt crack? Edan says,
you get used to it. I’ve slept rougher. “Your pa was over, looking for you.”
E: “Yeah”
R: “You want to do to them what Brad did me?”
E: (shocked) “No.”
R: “Then get up.”
E does, follows him back to the car, but does manage to offer he doesn’t’ want to go back
and live with his parents. Rocky says, fine, you can live with me. All your stuff is over here
anyway, yeah? Edan doesn’t argue. So after a while Rocky says he needs to go back to
school. So he does, doesn’t offer any arguments, though he says he’d failed out. Rocky tells
him he can go to continuation then. So he enrolls, finishes high school in May of 2003.
(Note: Rocky calls him “Eddie”) The next month he went to MCRD San Diego, CA. He was
assigned to the 89th Military Police Brigade in Fort Hood, Texas, and was shortly thereafter
deployed to Iraq. He was over in Iraq in 2004, then came home in 2005 to Fort Bliss, El
Paso. There he met a local girl named Brittany Rask and started dating her, a girl unlike
those he dated before. Brittany is a tall blonde cheerleader type. He gets word he’s going to
be sent back to Iraq, and he was contemplating his mortality at this point. It shook him, plus
he didn’t really have anyone in his life, so disconnected. So he married her a month before
his re-deployment. He was in Iraq 15 months, separated from her. Came back in October
2007, back to Fort Bliss in El Paso. It was shortly thereafter he was promoted to staff
sergeant. His life with Brittany at this time was…odd. He’d been away from her so long, and
she had all her friends and activities that he hadn’t known or shared in. But he worked at it,
tried to be a good husband, was well-aware he was acting a role (more that it feeling
natural or genuine) but he thought this was the expected thing, what all people did in life.
Brittany would often inform him he didn’t know what he was talking about, when meeting
people she knew or things that had happened while he was overseas. This is so and so, not
so and so. He would sometimes ask if she was playing with his head. He was kinda lost. But
Brittany could be really sweet, too. He still thought he’d done the right thing, getting
married, and this stuff was just an expected hiccup. He’d been in the service 6-7 years at
this point.

Brittany was an all-American, tall blonde cheerleader type. Not what he was used to. A
military cheerleader, conservative/traditionally minded thinker. I don’t think she was
religious though, I think they had that in common. She was a libertarian, Ayn Rand-ish type.
I think she had a soldier fetish, too. And the sex was good, I think she pretty dirty in the
sack. I think the first time he met her was in a bar, and she was wearing a cowboy hat,
which I’m sure he now says should have been a warning. Edan is sexy, I can understand her
attraction to him, and that he was different. Edan does have an air of superiority about him,
intellectually superiority. I don’t think he flaunts it—I don’t think he’s aware of it
necessarily, but he doesn’t fall for jingoist bullshit, and I think Brittany Rask (her maiden
name) had a superiority complex, too, so that was an attraction for her. And that he was
climbing up the military rank ladder, wasn’t a private at this point, probably made sergeant,
at minimum corporal, then up to sergeant. She looked for the bars on the arm; that was her
thing. And that he’d been in a band, a surfer, that’s different from most guys she knows. He
was appealing, special in her eyes. I think he was really lonely at this time, too. He didn’t
know anyone in El Paso, no one in Texas. Basically just Rock, and who knows where Rock
was at this point. Not on the same base. And he’d just come back from Iraq, was over there
for the 1st & 2nd Battles of Fallujah; it was hot. I think he’d learned Arabic, which was a help.
He also learned Pashto, largely self-taught. (He already knew Arabic alphabet so made
Pashto easier to learn). This is the kind of stuff Edan does for fun. He also read the Koran—
he’s just has a curious mind. If he couldn’t surf, he’d read. I think he hated the desert though
—he’s a water boy. But anyway, he saw some shit in the 1st tour of Iraq and it shook him. He
was more contemplative about life and mortality. He knew some guys that got killed, and of
course the IED thing, he really hates explosives which is part of the reason he reacts so
badly to Cari’s record. Anyway, he got attached to Brittany quite quickly, fell in love. And I
think she was smart, up to a point. She was certainly snobbish, but he didn’t really weight
that as well as he should have. She had roots in the area, her family in El Paso. I don’t think
they were military-connected, at least as far as being IN the military. Maybe surrounding
the military. She had gone to community college, had some degree. She was a medical
assistant, trained medical assisting, which was mostly clerical stuff. I think she was
probably really impressed, “in love” with him, at first. Anyway, when he learned about the
2nd deployment he asked her to marry him—they did discuss this, and they got married.
Now he was over there and he didn’t think anything was wrong, but Britt didn’t like sitting
at home and being a wife to someone that’s wasn’t there. But she was collecting his
paycheck—between the two of them they were making 60,000 (he was making around
32,000 a year, and he wasn’t spending shit). And basically it was just her in an apartment in
El Paso, living, no kids or other dependents.. And he’d had a bit saved, in 8 years around
$200,000, and a lot of that was in savings. Britt as making enough on her own to support
herself and be saving too. I think they’d discussed buying a house, that kind of stuff, having
kids. I’m sure Edan had told her he wanted to go back home to California, raise kids, be by
the beach, and she said that would be cool, but he told her it’s expensive to live out there so
they need to save money. And I think he’d said he wanted to leave the military after a
certain point and have money to buy a business or something, like a surf shop, that thing.
But while he was over there, Brittany was living another life, her own life, her own friends. I
do think she was faithful, while he was gone that first time. But for fuck sake, it was 15
months, longer than they’d known each other before getting married. Then he came home,
and it was clear that he was a stranger, really. And her to him, but he didn’t weight that was
being a real thing, that feeling, that awkwardness.

But then he got word of his promotion and deployment to Afghanistan. He was there for a
year, May 2009-May 2010. While he was gone, Britt started seeing another guy, another
soldier, a big cocky guy named Coy Andrews. Big cocky swinging dick infantry guy from
Arkansas. Brittany considered herself having been abandoned by Edan. He’s been overseas
away from her more than he’s been at home with her. And she’d gone off and married Coy.
MARRIED him, in a quickie wedding in Vegas. He comes home and she’s moved Coy in, his
shit is all over. He couldn’t get ahold of her before he showed up, left messages, nothing. She
didn’t even bother to tell him about this, figured just let him figure it out. She didn’t pick
him up from the airport/base or anything, he just got there on his own. So he’s wondering
wtf, although he can obvious tell another guy is spending time there. He had to calm himself
down, maybe it’s a brother/cousin/uncle/friend, whatever, to not blow up, even though all
his own stuff is set aside, pushed to the side. So she walks in and he’s there, thinking “wtf,
britt?” And she just give him a surprised look, then immediately a dead look. “Oh, you came
back.” “Well, yeah,” he replied, “I live here.” She said, “You should leave. Coy will be here later
tonight”. “Who the fuck is Coy?” “My husband.” “What the fuck are you talking about? Is one
of us on ‘shrooms? The fuck, Britt?” “You abandoned me. I moved on.” “The fuck, Britt?”
Then she says, Coy will be here, and I have to tell you, he’s bigger than you.” “Uh, Britt, I hate
to break it to you, but…you want to be with this guy, I’m not going to fight with him over
you. The apartment, maybe. You need to get your head out of your ass.”
B: “It’s my apartment.”
E: “It’s our apartment.”
B: “You know good and well this is my place, Ed.”
E: “I know good and well my name is on the lease.”
B: “I’ve been paying the rent.”
E: “You have been cashing my checks.”
B: “That was your decision.”
E: “Say again?”
B: “Joint bank account. I didn’t make you do it.”
E: “I was contributing to the marriage, Britt. The legal one.”
So anyway, they fight over who is going to leave, and Brittany insists it’s her place, and he
again says it’s both theirs and he’s paying rent, and she says she never used his money for
rent. So he says, what have you been using it for, then? Because he should have $150,000 in
savings, and he finds out that’s all gone. On what? Vacations with fucking Coy, clothes, a new
car, Tiffany jewelry, shit he knew nothing about. He tells her she better call Coy and have
him put up the two of them up in a fancy hotel for the night, and he’ll be leaving tomorrow,
which she does, agrees to this finally, because it’s clear that Edan will not be fucked with on
this right now. It made her back up a little---plus all his money being gone, he figured she
was one that could afford the hotel for the night. And Edan’s plan had been to take that
money, the two of them, and relocate to California and get set up. So, change of plans. He
called around and found someone to stay with for a little while he wrapped things up,
rented a car, called his dad for a loan, and went back home and moved in with his parents,
filed for divorce.
When he got home, he pondered what to do. Since he could go to school under the GI Bill,
that’s what he did, deciding to do something he knew, and do criminal justice at Mira Costa.
He got his associates degree, in 2012, but he really didn’t want to do law enforcement,
didn’t want to be a cop. He’d had enough of that, and didn’t want to spend his life arresting
the people he used to party with. He thought about being like a probationary counselor,
something like that. Something worthwhile, but not all-encompassing of every area of his
life like police work tends to do. Something he could walk away from down the road---leave
enough time to do his surf thing regularly, something he could tolerate, and allowed him to
look out for and be open to other life possibilities. So he applied with the department of
corrections and got his first job supervising the XX(name? Something with “Morning” or
“Dawn” in it, I’d guess.) halfway house in Long Beach. At the time of the story, he’s just a
little over his 2nd year on that job.
Cari’s timeline

Born March 8, 1989

1990 – turns 1
1991 – turns 2
1992 – turns 3
1993 – turns 4
1994 – turns 5, starts kindergarten at Storm Lake Elementary
1995 – turns 6, 1st grade
1996 – turns 7, 2nd grade – Mother Cindy left father Jerry and young Cari
1997 – turns 8, 3rd grade
1998 – turns 9, 4th grade
1999 – turns 10, 5th grade at Storm Lake Middle School
2000 – turns 11, 6th grade
2001 – turns 12, 7th grade
2002 – turns 13, 8th grade
2003 – turns 14, starts 9th grade at Storm Lake High School
2004 – turns 15, 10th grade
2005 – turns 16, 11th grade
2006 – turns 17, 12th grade
2007 – turns 18, starts college at University of CA, Irvine
2008 – turns 19, sophomore year at UCI
2009 – turns 20, junior year at UCI
2010 – turns 21, senior year at UCI
2011 – turns 22, graduates from UCI with a B.A. in Social Ecology, can’t find a job
2012 – turns 23, arrested this year, goes to jail
2013 – turns 24, in jail
2014 – turns 25, released from jail, present time

Cari Loree Paquet – Just past shoulder length brown hair, hazel eyes, buxom, a little
plumpish, not physically active or little to no interest in physical fitness and maybe even be
a little graceless and clumsy. Just under 5’0”—rather tiny. From Storm Lake, Iowa, moved to
CA to go to college at UCI. Just graduated but can’t find a job. Degree in social ecology.
Family background is lower/lower middle class. Single parent home, raised by father. Only
child. Jerry Paquet (mother: Cindy Rossmoor-Paquet). Mother left the family, has gone thru
a series of relationships with both men and women and none of them have been successful
for very long. Lives in Davenport, IA, other part of the state. Cari hears from her on holidays
and every so often, but it’s clear to both of them there’s no real relationship there. Cari was
7 yrs old when mother left (1996). Father had always hoped Janet would come back and
they would make it work but it never happened—at this point (after Cari left for college)
he’s pretty much gotten the picture and may now just be starting to see someone. Gerry is
an electrician. Janet has done various kinds of work: bartender, retail, whatever. Romantic
background: Zach Rabbat (teehee).

Okay, Cari is the only child of Jerry & Cindy Paquet. Jerry works for Hahn Roofing (Robert
Maddox, owner) & Tyson foods on and off, when work is low. Cindy also worked at Tyson.
Cari can remember either one or both of them smelling bad, and having blood on clothes
(though this might be a false memory). When Cari was seven her mother finally abandoned
them. She was having an affair with another woman, named Diane Wieland, coworker at
Tyson. Cari remembers walking in on the two of them and her mother cussing her out. Cari
didn’t really understand what was going on. She was the one that told her dad though,
mostly to ask question about what her mom and Diane were doing. Jerry couldn’t really
accept it at first. It went on for a while. But Cindy finally left to be with Diane (this would
have been in 1996). Diane ended up getting sick of Cindy and through her out though. Jerry
begged her to come but Cindy refused. Cari remembers her Dad coming home crying, or
Cari waiting in the car while her Dad begged her mother to come and she refused, and he
got back in the car crying. This is when her mother was living at the campgrounds, in a tent
(Sunrise Campground). Cindy got hooked on crank and it was just continual chaos, along
with her endless hookups with various men and woman. Cari was already socially awkward
but then was terribly bullied because her mother was a lesbian tweaker that lived in a tent
at the campgrounds. Was always a little chubby, eating her feelings. (Teddy Grahams are the
food of choice, and strawberry Fanta, pizza rolls.) Watching Nickelodeon. (CatDog, Doug,
Gullah Gullah Island, Hey Arnold!, Kenan & Kel, Legends of the Hidden Temple, Salute Your
Shorts, Weinerville, Arthur (PBS)). She was home alone a lot, latch key kid. Her bonding
with her father is particularly close and he wasn’t much of a disciplinarian. She was a bit of
his very very young housewife. She also watched a lot of Animal Planet (the Crocodile
Hunter, Animal Planet Zooventure, Big Cat Diary, Wild Rescues, Jim Henson’s Animal Show,
Champions of the Wild, Wildlife SOS. She read romances (Janet Dailey, local author) and
Animorphs. She never had very many friends (since she was picked on), mostly ended up
sitting at the lunch table with the Hispanic kids, who usually spoke Spanish among
themselves. One of her friends was named Lourdes Hernandez, who had long beautiful
wavy hair and beautiful brown eyes. Cari thought Lourdes was the most beautiful name
ever and she wanted to be Catholic. I think she went through a Virgin Mary apparitions
phase. Her heroes were Jane Goodall and Julia Butterfly Hill. She read The Legacy of Luna
(she was 11) and One Makes the Difference (she was 13) and that was a big influence and
turning point for her. She started hanging around the Living Heritage Tree Museum a lot
and wishing she could live in one and save them. She was very sensitive to the racist
sentiments are the Hispanic people. Still, she could quite fit in them. Her big crush was
Brandon Hobbs, who was a football player and her Chemistry lab partner. Due to sensitivity
about her weight she tried (unsuccessfully) to become anorexic and a bit more successfully
bulimia. A custodian caught her doing this and scared the crap out of her, maybe threatened
her with physical punishment (probably stuck with her).

Name: Cari Loree Paquet

Age: 25 yrs old
Height: Just under 5’0”
Weight: 130 lbs, buxom, about 10-15lbs overweight
Birth date: March 8, 1989
Birthplace: Storm Lake, Iowa
Color hair: dark brown hair, fine texture, straight
Color eyes: hazel/green
Scars or Handicaps (Physical, Mental, Emotional): low-level depression, social anxiety,
stuttered when she was young, was bullied as child
Other distinguishing traits (Smells, voice, skin, hair, etc.): Has a rather little-girl voice,
slightly upturned nose, very light skin tone that burns easily, likes fragrances so uses
scented products, particularly vanilla/vanilla-scented perfumes
Educational background: Storm Lake, IA public schools, BA in Social Ecology from UCI
Work experience:
Military service: are you kidding? The military is a tool of the oppressor.
Marital Status (Include reasons): not married and no desire to be, since it’s a tool of
patriarchy and the govt has no business determining whose relationship is valid and whose
isn’t. Boyfriend’s name is Zach Rabbat. They have had an open relationship for 4-5 years
Best friend: Was Lourdes Hernandez
Men/women friends:
Enemies (Include why):
Parents (Who? Where? Alive? Relationship?):
Present problem:
Greatest fear:
How will problem get worse?
Strongest character traits:
Weakest character traits:
Sees self as:
Is seen by others as:
Sense of humor: Not very funny herself. Not one to be able to tell jokes or joke around
with people. She does have a sense of humor though, particularly social criticism and even
gentle silly baby-animal joke posts on social media
Basic nature:
Ambitions:
Philosophy of life (Include how it came to be):
Hobbies:
Preferred type of music, art, movies & reading material: oldies music/Paul
McCartney, music her father would have listened to, colorful art/arts & crafts
Dialog tag (Idioms used, speech traits, e.g. “you know”):
Dress: capri/cropped twill pants or jeans, so they aren’t too long, doesn’t wear shorts
because is self-conscious about her thighs, everything ½ to ¾ sleeves, again so they aren’t
too long, campshirts, oversize t-shirts, hi-cut panties or boys full figure bras, probably at
least one sexier lingerie set—i’m sure she’d like to have more, and nicer, quality
underthings but expense and necessity makes that less of an option now. I think she used to
be a more colorful, carefree boho dresser but circumstances have changed. She just wants
to fly under the radar until she’s out of the house and off probation. Clothes from cheapest
outlet—she’s probably go thrift if things were easier to find in her size, so she makes do
with K-Mart and what she can find at thrift stores—ex. maternity tops as short dress, cheap
vintage costume jewelry in mix-matches pairs, vintage coin purse with an old necklace
attached as a handle, vintage 70s wood/cork sandals, bangle bracelets. But for regular work
wear plain ballet flats, plain and simple pants and shirts. For pajamas an oversize men’s
shirt with her panties or a simple two-piece set.
Favorite colors: violet, green, rose, jewel tones, dove gray
Pastimes: etsy-type crafts
Description of home (Physical and the “feel”):
Most important thing to know about this character:
One-line characterization:

Key Questions:

What trait will make this character come alive, and why?
Why is this character different from other similar characters?
Do I like/dislike this character, and why?
Will readers like/dislike this character for the same reasons?
Characters who are remembered are those who are strong in some way—saints,
sinners or a combination. For what will this character be remembered?

Name: Cari Loree Paquet (pronounced Car-ee, not care-e, and Pa-ket, not Pack-et)
March 8 1989
12:27 PM Time Zone is CST
Storm Lake, IA

Cari—very sensitive by nature, prefers to be in familiar surroundings. Cautious with her feelings. Does not open up
easily to strangers. Very loyal. Has been very hurt by her mother’s lack of love and maternal concern for her and as a
child she internalized that it was her fault, and even though as adult she knows that’s not true it’s hard to root out
those scars. Sentimental. Gentle, giving and protective of the needs of others. A bit insecure and over-sensitive to
criticism. Shy and can be moody. Has a strong need for security, to be loved and protected herself. Emotional,
vulnerable. Easily upset and cries readily. Needs to be around positive, upbeat people or she absorbs that negative
emotional energy. Helpful and understand of the needs of others, and can be a sucker for anyone who needs help.
Shy, dreamy and romantic, tends to retreat into a private fantasy world for comfort. Goes by her intuition and
believes in psychic energy. Can be very courageous and a fighter when her emotions are aroused. The degree of
force and drive that she can put forth can be surprising. Has some hair-triggers reactions to certain things, like
injustice. Sometimes acts before she things and does things on the spur of the moment that get her in trouble. Does
have a temper but doesn’t hold grudges. In her own way very independent and with a strong personality. Can be
impulsive, careless, foolhardy, and reckless. Very opinionated—strongly felt notions and quite vocal about
expressing and defending them. (Has an opinion, or feels she must have, on everything and reacts very strongly
sometimes without knowing or understanding the full situation and impact). An original thinker, offbeat.
Intellectually curious and creative. Her judgment is usually fair. Dreamy, fanciful, romantic nature and a very
creative imagination. Unselfish and giving and extremely sensitive to the needs of others in a relationship. Tends to
be taken advantage of due to her innocence and naiveté. Can be willful and stubborn. Not a quitter—will work hard
to achieve things. Values her private space and possessions. Can become overly attached to be people and jealous.
Tends to repress her anger until it explodes, often over things that seem silly and inconsequential (because she’s
reacting towards other things that have built up). Attracted to others that need (she feels) her assistance. Seems to go
out of her way to form relationships with those who are weak, sick, injured, addicted or in trouble in some way, and
sometimes victimized by those who prey on her good nature and take advantage of her. Should learn to be more self-
protective (and not just of her deepest feelings and emotions which she does guard from others).

Name: Edan George Gale

December 26 1984
2:27 AM Time Zone is PST
Oceanside, CA

Edan – tends to quiet, reserved, secretive and difficult to understand. Deep emotions and
feelings. Stubborn and tough, resourceful, formidable. Intense guy, but hard to know and draw
out, courageous, sarcastic, serious, serious about his responsibilities. Surprisingly easily hurt and
not quick to forgive or get over it. Goal-oriented achiever. Doesn’t like laziness in himself or
others. Hard worker. Not easily distracted. Very focused when he puts his mind to something.
Practical and efficient worker, thorough. Persistent, tenacious and tireless in accomplishing what
he puts his mind to. Hard-headed. Freedom-oriented. Tries to practice emotional self-control and
admires this in others. Physically strong but prefers to and tends to solve problems with his
brains and intellect as opposed to brawn or fickle “feelings”. A bit intolerant of those that get
emotionally overwrought—doesn’t get that everyone isn’t or doesn’t want to be as objective,
cool, dispassionate and detached as he can be. A very curious and inquisitive mind and
knowledgeable on a wide variety of topics. Well-read (self-pursued) on big topics like
philosophy, science and religion. Blunt, honest and truthful. An openly friendly and friendly guy
but doesn’t develop many close relationships, even though he tends to be popular amongst his
circle of contacts. Has known and befriended people that are exciting, different and a bit odd. A
deep sleeper. Tries to and usually succeeds in acting without his ego being important. Unselfish.
Has no problem giving and getting or expecting nothing in return. Once his loyalty is given it is
forever. Chooses partners and relationships carefully.
*****

Edan will be enriched by this relationship with Cari, which will lead to the discovery of a new
world, original and full of change. They will go well together, but Cari may resist marriage, at
least on a formal level. Cari will find it difficult to tolerate Edan sometimes because he seems to
be critical of her ideas. Edan complains Cari is too practical and unimaginative.

Other characters:

Zach Rabbat

“Dammit” Janet Luttrell – Ed’s assistant/asst. manager. She comes in early in the morning, say
5:00am-2:00pm. In her 50’s.

Claudia Pace – 2nd Shift. Going to graduate school. 4:30pm-10:30pm. After 10pm the doors get
locked—you can leave but not come in until doors open at 5AM. The front door is alarmed at
night, around 10pm. If it’s triggered a call will come in to the person on on-call. The front door
and side doors are also on security cameras but not the inside or inside rooms. In her early 20’s,
black, attractive.

Ed’s shift: 8:00am – 5:00pm. There’s is also an on-call person at night, but they aren’t
necessarily on site. Basically if you leave you’ll be on tape leaving, and you’ll be in trouble and
likely sent back to prison. It’s never happened before.

Stascia Simmons – Edan’s “special” friend. He met her at the gym. She is very physically fit.
Black.

The house is 8 beds and 4 baths, not counting the attached edition with his Edan’s place, which
has both an entrance thru the house proper and an outside entrance. Built in 1928, and about
3700 square feet on a 8300 square feet lot. Here is some suggested addresses: 1021 Locust Ave
98013; 4454 Linden Ave 90807; 20 Lindero Ave 90803. All are in Long Beach, as is the halfway
house.
The minute Cari checks into the facility Edan is on her case. She gets checked in and he has a
major attitude. She puts her hand out (the other has her bag of belongings) and he just sneers at
her hand, blows her off. He tells her he doesn’t think she should have gotten parole and he’ll
flush her back down to lockup in a hot minute if he gets the chance.

The ladies are supposed to get their choice of jobs, but he doesn’t give her a choice. Hers is
working janitorial in a senior citizen community center. She protests.

E: (getting out her file) “Let’s see, Cari (pronouncing it Care-ee)...”

K: (correcting him) “It’s actually Kar-i, like “car”, not “care”...

E: (still reading the form) “Paq-uet” (pronouncing it pack-et)

K: “It’s “Pa-ket”. It always confuses people.” (he’s just looking at her so she goes on, gesturing
with her hands) “It’s actually French, and...”

E: (ignores her and goes on with his speech—mentions her job placement.)

K: “I have a degree.”

E: (false friendliness/curiosity) “Oh, you do? Well, let’s see if we have something to fit your
particular job skills...which are?”

K: “My degree is in Social Ecology.”

E: (gives her a blank look)

K: (with the practiced manner of someone that’s had this discussion before) “It’s a
multidisciplinary...”

E: “So no job skills.”

K: (hurt) “Well, people misunderstand... (defending the degree)

E: (cuts her off, leans in) “Can I level with you? Just between you and me?”

K: (thinking she’s made headway) “Of course.”

E: (shaking his head sadly) “I don’t give a shit. Not about your bullshit degree, how you
pronounce your bullshit name, you in general really. Well, the last bit...that’s not quite true. I do
care. I do know who you are. You got off on a technicality, Packet. You should be doing XX-XX
on that terrorism charge. You would be, only you got lucky. And you also got lucky getting
parole—damn lucky, because you don’t deserve it. I see women that come from bad
backgrounds, abuse, addiction, every shitty thing life can throw at them. But you, you’re a little
entitled white girl, with a nice middle class mommy and daddy that wiped your ass and paid for
your college education---and what do you use it for? To get some crazy hippie lunacy utopia
theory in your head and play with explosives. You could have killed xxx of people, done millions
of dollars in property damage. But you got lucky again, because, #1. You were thankfully too
fucking stupid to hook up the wires correctly, #2 You had some dumbass arresting officer that
couldn’t turn in all the triplicates on the search warrant, #3 You were the right sex and skin color.

“I’m aware of..”

Oh, you care about societal injustice, do you? Only not the kind that benefits your stupid, sorry
ass, right? Only I’m in control of that stupid, sorry ass now, Packet. And you can believe I’m
going to ride it, and right back to the prison cell it shouldn’t have gotten out of in the first place.

Are you picking up on this? You processing it in your little cutworm-sized brain? You understand
I’m going to flush you back down to lockup the first chance I get, right? In fact, I’ll make you
prefer that turn of events to being out here with me.

Now as for your job assignment---you’re on the incontinent crew, honey. And be thankful that
incendiary device malfunctioned or the body fluid you’d have on your hands would be blood and
cerebrospinal fluid instead of piss and shit.

Would you like to see your room now?”

She’s crying silently, he sees this and his face gets ugly

E: “Quit that fake bullshit. Now.”

She visibly struggles, then stops.

He smiles, completely insincere, formulaic, to show her her room, like a hostess.

At dinner time or regarding dinner time, Cari says she’s a vegetarian. Edan pulls out some Boca
Burgers, tells her (a one up) he’s VEGAN.

So after that he’s all over her looking for infractions. At some point there is a verbal exchange
and she says something stupid and he asks her, “What was that degree in again?”

K: “Social ecology.” E just stares at her, makes a go-on gesture with his hand. K, stumbling, “It’s
an multidisciplinary field, connecting psychology, urban planning...”

E: “And it’s taught you fuck-all.” (he corrects her and insinuates she’s a moron.)
^^^^^^

He does an inspection of her room, is going through her hoard of snacks (teddy grahams) and
throwing them away. She asks why and he gives her a contemptuous once-over and replies,
“Look at yourself.”

Cari says this is grossly unfair, and Edan tells her she can file a complaint/file for a review. To
write it out and submit it. So Cari does this, meticulously writing out 2-3 pages of how she
believes she’s being unfairly treated. She goes to his office (this is when everyone is out) to turn
it over to him. He takes it from her, scans it briefly, then tosses it in the garbage.

E: “Your case is denied.”

Cari is sputtering with anger.

K: “Okay. That’s it. That’s it! I want to have this out right now!”

E: “Oh, you do?”

K: “Yes! Yes, I do! You’ve been on my case ever since I got here!”

E: “Modulate your volume. NOW.”

K: “I will not! Not anymore! I am done with your bullying!”

E: (standing up) “I’m warning you.”

K: “So what? So what! What could you possibly do that’s worse than what you’ve done
already?!”

E: (approaching her) “I’d be only too happy to make an example of you, Packet.”

K: “Pa-quet! Go ahead, “make an example” of me when there’s no one else around to see it
anyway!”

E: “You want to have it out with me, Packet? Do you really?”

K: “Pa-quet! Pa-quet! You...loser.”

E: (in front of her, glaring down) “I’m warning you...”

K: (glaring up at him) “You already DID. Ha! Loser!”

E: (still glaring, moves even closer, he’s right against her body.)

K: (shoves him, or tries to.)

E: (surprised, angry) “Did you just put your hands on me?”

K: “You were invading my personal space!”

E: “You have no personal space but what I give you, Packet.”

E approaches her menacingly and as he gets closer she attempts, badly, to sidestep him and do
some kind of martial arts move, hooking her hip and foot behind his leg to trip him. E looks
surprised, readjusts his weight away from her.

E: “The fuck? Did you just try to throw me?” E half-turns his body to grab her as she tries to
position her hips again to upend him, which E feels and again slips out of it, taking a half step
away from her. “You crazy, ridiculous bitch!”

K is trying to stay behind him as E keeps trying to turn and grab her; they are almost turning a
circle. E is angry.

E: “Packet, I swear to god I am going to beat your ass.”

K knows she can’t keep him at bay much longer so she tries to dart for the door but E is too
quick and gets her around the back of her twill pants and practically lifts her up off the floor
dragging her back. K feels her pants and panties ride up and makes a sound like a squeal—very
pleasing to E’s ears—as he drags her back. She is twisting which is making her pants ride up
more. In desperation she launches herself back towards him and her rump lands against his
stomach with an “oomph” on his part. He is momentarily knocked off balance and lets go of the
back of her pants to use his arm to avoid hitting the back of his desk. But he quickly gains his
equilibrium and reaches out for her, before she can regain hers in time to bolt from him. He
catches her just above her left wrist and yanks. K is again driven backwards but twists against his
grip so again manages to break loose and not thinking about it, purely out of instinct launches
herself at him again, this time landing just off-center against his back. She actually hears E growl
like an animal. K feels the edge of the desk against the back of her thighs. E seems to sense her
dilemma and starts driving backwards and she starts to kick out her legs, trying to keep from
being pinned. E is reaching to pull her off of his back. K senses she’s going to be trapped again
the desk soon as E keeps driving back and pulling her up by the back of her shirt. Her body
weight is now over his upper back and she reaches around for E’s face. Her left is on his nose
and her right on his mouth. She is trying to get a grip to tug or scratch and does manage to get
her index and middle fingers inside his lips and is pulling like a fish hook while her left hand
tries to tug his nose in the opposite direction. His right hand tries to pry her hand loose from his
nose. Her legs are soon to be smashes against the desk like a vise and she manages to plant her
sneakers against the top edge of the desk and thrust, as E makes a brutal tug on her shirt. K feels
herself going up, then over E’s back. She makes a frantic grasp onto the front of E’s oxford shirt
to avoid landing head-first against the floor. E has her around the thighs and his weight brings his
body down as well as hers. E slides his back down the edge of the desk and he crash-lands in a
sitting position on the floor. K has just managed to put one hand down to protect her face from
hitting the floor and is lying face down against his lower legs/shins. K tries to scramble-claw
away but E reaches down and gets his hands inside the waist of her twill pants and rips her back
and she tries to grasp something, anything, to stay herself. It’s a useless effort and she soon finds
herself across his thighs, with his elbow hard against her back. And with his free right hand, he
smacks the seat of her pants with maximum force.
E: “Fucking little wildcat!”

E stops, realizes what he’s done. He hit her, hit a resident. And, damn, it felt good. Little bitch
deserved it, and so much more. Screw it, he thinks. If he’s going to go down for this, he’s going
to make it count. He drives the flat of his hand against her backside as fast and as hard as he can,
over and over again.

E: “What’d I tell you, Packet? Beat...your...ass!”

He hears rapid exhales from her, and then what sounds like...it’s crying. Ah, damn. He absently
pats her behind, then eases her off his lap.

E: “Okay, that’s it.” He stands up, looks down at her. She is kneeling and her eyes are very red
and wet. Her nose is running and she brings the front of her hand up to wipe it. What a pathetic
sight, he thinks. And he’d never thought to keep tissues on his desk. He sighs to himself, reaches
out his hand.

E: “Come on, up.” She looks up at him even more pathetically, takes his hand. He pulls her up.
Without really intending it, he has her against his chest/her head against his chest. He hears a
wavering inhale, and then what sounds like more tears. Ah, damn. He pulls the tail of his oxford
out of his pants and brings the up to her face, wipes at her eyes and nose while his other runs
across the back of her head. She didn’t have all that much going for her, he thought, but her hair
is awfully soft.

E: (with uncommon gentleness) “Come on now, pull it together. Don’t debase yourself.”

K: (pushes herself away from his chest, small hoarse voice, speaks but it’s garbled)

E: “I couldn’t quite make that out?”

K: (regaining control of her voice, emotions) “You are utterly contemptible.”

E: (sighing again, silently) “You called it.” He realizes what happened, it was as much his fault
as hers. More his fault, really, because he was supposed to be the professional. As an MP at ???
(base?), he could handle 230 lb drunken sailors with ease, but funny it was this human equivalent
of a 3 lb yappy, scrappy little terrier set him off and made him lose his cool.

K: (She watches as he sits down on the edge of his desk, then reaches out for the phone, pushes
one of the buttons, holds down the whatever?? He hands the handset out to her. She sniffles,
suddenly afraid of what the fallout for her physically accosting him will be, tremor in her voice)
“Who is it?”

E: “X X, my supervisor. I think the s.o.p. handbook would consider my actions here an

unreasonable amount of force.”

K: (looks down at E’s hand holding out the phone, swallows) “But I assaulted you. Or whatever
they’d call it.” E shrugs. “They’d send me back, wouldn’t they?”
E: “I don’t know. Maybe. It wouldn’t be up to me. But that’s irrelevant to what I did in
response.”

K: “Not to me, it’s not.”

E: (reaches his free hand up to his chin, rubs it) “Yeah, you’re probably right there.” (He looks
back over at her, and her skeptical, somewhat damning stare back) “I didn’t set this up to play
out this way, if that’s what you’re thinking. If you want to report it, I won’t stop you. But, in
honesty, I can’t guarantee that I’d be the only one to face consequences for it.”

K: (pause) “I don’t want to report it.”

E: “You sure about that? You have every right to.” (K shakes her head. E pulls the phone back
and hangs it up. He looks at her again, pondering) “I’m not a damn bit sorry, you know. When it
comes down to it.”

K: (looks off to the side, not able to meet his eyes) “I know you aren’t.”

E: (continuing to survey her and note her inability to look him in the eye) “You probably had it
coming to you for a very long time, what’s more, you silly little bitch.”

K: (she can feel her face flush and drums the fingers of her hands nervously against the front of
her pants)

E: “You’re thinking to make yourself scarce for a while, I hope?”

K: “Yes.”

E: “Good idea.” (He adds, and it’s only when it’s out of his mouth that the awkward humor of it
strikes him) “Go to your room, Cari.” (He watches her go, one hand on the right back of her
pants. He wondered if she was still feeling it. He kinda hoped she was.)

After this, she tries to steer clear of him. But she is hyper-aware of his presence. She’s terrified of
him, and he can tell. It gives him a little charge when he stops and considers it. She should be
terrified of him. He confronts her about this when they’re alone in the hallway—but not alone in
the house.

He sees her slinking down the hall.

E: “Ah, the ghost of annoyances past.”

K: “I’m not afraid of you.”

E: “Oh yes you are. And if you have a healthy sense of self-preservation, you should be.”

K: “You’ve done your worst and it was no thing.”

E: (quiet laugh) “I did? We have different recollections of that afternoon, I think.”

K: (swallows) “Is there something you want or need, or what?”

E: (casually puts his arm put blocking her path forward) “No. Not a thing.”

K: (moves her hair out of her face) “Still not intimidated.”

E: (lopsided smile) “You’re awfully busy on Tuesday afternoons anymore, Packet. Did you find
a social club?”

K: “I volunteer for.....Tuesday afternoons. You already know that, I’m sure. It’s on the permission
slip.”

E: “And you ask Dammit Janet to sign off on every one of them. That’s curious.”

K: (shrugs)

E: “You know I could override those passes, right?” (snaps his fingers) “Gone. Make you come
to me to ask for permission. Like you should be doing in the first place.”

K: “I don’t ask you for them because I know you’d refuse.”

E: “That’s right. And then it’d just be you and me here, all afternoon, wouldn’t it?” (K looks
down, he can read the nervous tension in her. He leans in closer towards her face) “You know
why I don’t do that, Packet, even though I’m wise to your game? Because I enjoy your presence
about as much as you do mine.” (He smiles and lifts up his arm. He watches her scurry away.)

On one of the Tuesday afternoons though, which he usually uses to fill out paperwork in his
office, he’s out doing something else and he catches her coming down the stairs. She is done up
in one of her repurposed maternity sundresses, clunky wooden heels, dangles, crafty coin purse.

Comments on her attire.

Edan, to effect of, "You look like you have plans."

K: “The weather’s nice. I want to get out of the house. So what?”

E: (gesturing to her form) "This is a dress to impress get up. Your version of one anyway."

K: "You're a jerk." (starts to walk by)

E: "I hope this is all reg."

K: (nastily) “Of course.”

E: "You haven't done much to earn my trust, Packet."

K: (nastily) "Do you want to check?"

E: “Do you want me to?”

K: "You’re free to do so, if you insist.”

E: “Really?”

K: (juts her chin out, looks at the ceiling, holds her hands up at shoulder level)

E: "You want me to check if those are reg underwear you got on?"

K: (flushes, stares ahead) "Go ahead."

E: "You want me to?" (raising brows, head cock)

K: "You want to be a big man, trying to intimidate me, but you don't like when you get called on
it."

E: "I'm not someone you wanna play games with, Packet."

K: (drops her hands) "What I thought."

E: (she starts to walk by but he stays her) "So you want the visual or the pat down? Or both, just
to make sure?"

K: (dumbfounded, visually stunned, steps away from him)

E: (smirks) "What I thought. Have a nice day, Packet. Not a minute past 5:00pm now." (she exits,
visually jumpy, and Edan finds himself a bit surprised. She does look a little cute, he thinks. For
her, she looks pretty damn cute.

Their next encounter is this: she tells him about her father, and he is sympathetic. He's very
gentle and kind about it. Which surprises her. She is in his office. He gives her phone card
privileges, long distance phone cards for that, long distance phone access. She decides she needs
more, or she wants something from his office (not sure what), so she sneaks in there when she's
not there, and he didn't lock it, or she got in the lock. Or the lock is broken, and she knows it,
needs to get fixed and he bitches about the lock, and that the guy needs to come in and fix it, but
everything works slowmo in the system. So she knows that. And so she sneaks in, and she's
rooting around in the dark, and she nears someone coming so she tries to scurry under his desk,
to hide, but she can't fit her fat ass under there, so when he comes in (maybe because he's heard
something), he sees her ass sticking out, and her say "shit."
E: The fuck, he asks? So she knows she's busted. He has her get up, and he is not happy,

E: “You pull off burglary with the same finesse you do everything else, don’t you?”

She doesn’t move so he walks over and nudges her with this foot.

E: “Come on, get up. I can tell it’s you from the fat ass.”

K: “You s.o.b.! If all you can do is…ouch!” (she tries to get up, back out, hits her head)

E: “Hurry it up. Or you get your fat ass stuck down there like Winnie the Pooh in the Honey
Tree?”

K: (backing out, grumbling)

E: “I can try to kick you in that fat ass and see if it’ll force you out the other side. One, two…”

K: (fully backed out, looks back over her shoulder at him) “You are such a crude, insulting…”

E: “And you’ve got a fat ass, Packet. Now what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She says she wanted another phone card (though I think she's lying). He is clearly not happy, but
really...i think he's thinking more how pathetic she is. She asks him, are you going to report this?
Omg, you're going to report it. Generally yes, he says, I got someone breaking into my office I
report it. But I wasn't breaking in, really, because it wasn't locked... Just stop, he says. Please, she
says, please. I know I'm caught. I know I'm in trouble. I'll accept the punishment. Well, that’s
handy, he says, since she doesn't have a choice. Yes, she says, you're right, you're absolutely
right. I'll accept the punishment. Will you handle it? Please, just handle it.

“What the hell does that word salad mean?”

She's desperate to have him not report it to higher ups and get sent back for violation. She's kind
of hinting around, and it takes awhile for him to get it. She wants him to physically punish her, to
do it himself.

Anyway Cari keeps hinting around that she doesn't want him to report the office break in and
that he should handle it himself. it takes him a while to figure out that she's hinting around for
something. Then he gets it.

E: "Are you propositioning me, Packet?"

K: (legit horrified) "No! God no! Ugh! NO!"

E: "You can miss me with the vehemence there."

K: "Well, just no. I'm not."

E: "Then what the hell are you talking about?"

K: "Just...oh, never mind."

E: "But I'm not supposed to report this?"

K: "No, I'm not telling you not to report...well, I am, but not telling you. Asking you to."

E: "On what basis?"

K: "Not on any basis. I know I shouldn't have, and it was stupid, and I got caught."

E: "So what do you keep doing rhetorical gymnastics over?"

K: (frustrated) "I'm not!" (pause) "I just mean, you're going to do what you're going to do. I
just..." (deep breath) "I just don't want to get revoked. I understand there are consequences. I
know that." (deeper breath) "It's just...you handled it before. You handled it before, okay? That's
all I..."

E: "Are you alluding to the incident in my office? You are, aren't you?"

K: "The incident? 'The incident'. Yes."

E: "Packet, do you want me to spank you?"

K: (horrified) "No! No, I don't." (gesturing with her hands) "Believe me, I don't."

E: "That's not what you're hinting around about here?"

K: "No! I'm not hinting about...oh, you're so terrible! I forget how terrible you are!" (covers her
face)

E: "I tell you what, Packet. I feel bad for you. Really I do. You are the saddest, sorriest creature
I've ever come across."

K: "Creature?!"

E: "...and because you're so pitiful, I'm going to extend you mercy."

K: (big sigh, looks up at him)

E: "I'm not going to make you say it." (half smirk) "I'm just that nice of a guy. But you really
want me to handle this, come by my place tonight. Say, 11:00PM..."

K: (anxious whisper) "It's lockup."

E: "You know about the back access door, don't you?"

K: (flush) "It's...it's not open..."

E: "Packet, Packet." (shakes his head) "Let's go unlock the door." (puts his hand on her shoulder
and she stumbles out with him out of the office and down the short hallway where's there's the
service door, down to a basement area (which has some storage and then the backdoor to his
residence). He takes out his keys and makes a show of unlocking the door, then turns to her)
"You think you can manage to get down those stairs without alerting the whole building?"

K: (swallows) "I don't know."

E: "Well now, Packet, how do you think I'm going to handle this then? Wait until next Tuesday?
That really dulls the lesson, doesn't it?"

K: (swallows, quiet)

E: (pats her shoulder) "You have..." (glances down) "...about 3 hours to think about it. To weigh
it in your mind. Sound fair?"

K: (stares at the door, silent)

E: "Now if you'll forgive me, I have to find the damn XXX that I came over here for in the first
place." He gives her another pat on the shoulder then heads back to the office. She ducks into the
kitchen area and stands, tucked into a corner. She faintly hears him in the office, say something
like, "Damn thing" (or something), then his voice, apparently in the common room, talking to
whoever is in there. It's a few of the girls, and they are in there watching Modern Family or
whatever (look this up!) that they all like, and that's why she was in the office tonight anyway, as
they'd all be caught up in the program and not likely to be milling around anywhere to have
heard or seen her in there. She hears him laugh, the girls laugh, and then he says to effect of, "I
gotta go" and then him presumably leaving out the front door to go back to his place. She weighs
what to do. She sees one of the girls come into the kitchen, get something out of the refrigerator,
get a soda, whatever. She holds very still. The woman (who?) doesn't notice her, even look her
way. (she's in side area/pantry thing). After the person leaves she walks over to the fridge and
pulls out her tea or whatever (not soda) and then tries to casually exit, pass right by the common
room and kinda say "hi". The women/woman says to the effect of, I didn't know you'd come
down. Oh, just came down to get a drink, she says. What are you watching, and they say
although she of course is already well aware of what they always watching on Thursday (? not
sure what day), then she goes up the stairs and to her residence room/bedroom.

So Edan has left and Cari goes upstairs and sits on her bed. She's shaking, or at least lost in
thought. She thinks about Edan. He looms large in her mind. She thinks she could be attracted to
him, if she allowed herself. He has definite appeal. Handsome in his way, self-assured. He's the
kind of guy that she always was attracted to, got a crush on, guys in her hometown, but she knew
there was no way in hell they would ever give her the time of day. And they never did. She was
afraid to ever speak to them. They never noticed her. Maybe she had one that was a lab partner or
something in high school, some way connected through school. She had a crush on. She
exchanged a few words with him in the course of a school project, school thing. She was
surprised he wasn't a jerk. She stopped talking to him after a few sentences, clammed up, shy.
She wondered where he was now. Wherever it was, it was a life that was lost to her, then and
especially now. She thinks about...what people back home must think of her. Shocked about what
happened. Wondered if they believed it about her. She was sure they all gossiped about her, said
stuff. It makes her heart hurt, feels bad. She's fucked up everything, everything in her life. She
wishes she could go back, and....dunno what, but not what she did. Deeply in debt, broke, and
now she'd never be able to find a job. She cries. She didn't regret the cause, though she might
have gone about it different. She really had no idea of the bomb, and she never would have been
a part of that. Now...just focus on now. She has been in contact with Zach. She'd kinda gone
along with the plan, because of him, to solidify with him. She's been seeing him, talking to him.
The last tie to the old her, and she can't let it go. Pretend this whole thing never happened. She
could never pretend for very long though. It's changed her irrevocably. For good, for bad,
impossible to say---it went beyond good and bad...it was what was. Well, she couldn't go back.
Even what she had now, which wasn't much, it was what she had. All she had, and it was worth
keeping. Thinking more about Edan...the less she thought of him the better, the less she thought
of it. She sits looking out the window, into the night. She'd taken it for granted, enjoying it.
When she'd moved from Iowa to California, she'd reveled in it, the difference, the beauty here.
She felt so lucky. But she'd never actually taken the time to enjoy it. Life had gone by and there
seemed, in the vaguest part of her mind, that there would be time. And now nearly 2 years, lost,
locked away. And now, still, inside looking out. She vowed to herself, once she was able--and
she would be one day, she would, not that far from now (how long?) she would. She would. But
for now...she stood up. She went before a mirror, looked at herself. Steeled herself. She hand was
shaking, she saw it shake as she reached up to brush her hair back. Deep breath. She gently
opened her door, peeking out. All was silent. (I'm wondering if it's past 11pm?--would everyone
be) She heard XX's radio was on, because she had privileges. Sometimes XX and XX went in
there to talk, gossip, whatever, but they never invited her. No one would miss her. Nonetheless
the stealthily made her way down the hall. (what is she wearing? I'm thinking in case she was
caught she was wearing what might have been pajamas--an oversize shirt with XXX on it,
barefoot, bra and panties of course. And she couldn't bear not to put on a pair of shorts---she
wouldn't go to him without them, but they weren't visible when she stood up) Her excuse would
be, if she was caught...what? Sleepwalking? Not likely? That she went down to the kitchen area
because she got the munchies or something--that'd probably work. She walked down the stairs,
hoping they wouldn't creak as they did sometimes...she is almost on tiptoes and walking very
slowly. There is a slight creak, but not much. Then down the rest of the way. She stepped and
into the halfway. it was dark, but she put her head into the communal room anyway. No one of
course. And into the kitchen. She debated just going into the refrigerator and making her cover
story the real thing. She rested her hand on the handle, then let go. (She probably looked at the
door first) She peeked back at door, then let go. She goes to door, feeling like a great weight is
going to drop down on her any moment...but no such luck.

So Cari opens the door, switches on the light and stares down the step. Then she moves, as
slowly as she can. There are some racks down at the bottom, hold what? Economy rolls of toilet
paper and paper towels, that kind of thing. She turns to the right and sees the short steps up to the
door. The door he's behind. It reminds her of that story, the lady or the tiger, that her class had
read when she was in grade or junior high school (?), and they'd all had to write an ending. She
couldn't remember which one she'd written, but in any case she knew she was getting the tiger.
She walked the few steps up (how does this work?) and stopping to gain resolve, knocked on the
door. Once, small knock. She wondered if he'd heard it. She wondered if she should knock again,
louder. She wondered if she could just pretend she did, but don't. She forced herself not to turn
her head and look back around at the opposite steps, because she knew if she did she would flee.
Ok, she'd knock again, just once...well, ok, two knocks, and a little louder. Not *really* loud, but
just a little bit louder. She'd just raised her hand when she heard/saw it open. Her breath caught.
She wanted to run so bad. She wondered if there was time to run, if she moved
now...now...now...but then he was there, in front of her. His height was accentuated--and her
diminutive stature compared to him, by the slight depression of her stance on the steps (she'd
down a step or so). What it must feel like to be a mouse relative to a predator. It wasn't the lady
and the tiger---the mouse and the tiger. He looked down at her, expressionless.

E: "Packet."

K: (ringing her hands)

E: "Good god."

K: (surveyed him. This was Edan casual, in loose cargo pants and a Flipper t-shirt. It seemed
obscene for her to be around him like this. It made her more uncomfortable than if he were
standing there naked, she thought)

E: "Good god, Packet. I didn't think you could be such a silly little bitch."

K: (genuinely confused) "What?"

E: "Showing up here, for fuck's sake."

K: "But you..."

E: "How do you humiliate someone with no sense of..."

K: "You unlocked the door! You said..."

E: "Who would have guessed....she actually shows up...!" (shaking head)

K: "Yes, I showed up. You unlocked the door. You said to come. I came!"

E: (shaking head) "Packet..."

K: "You answered the door!"

E: "Well, you got me there." (he steps slightly to the side and held the door open, then gestured
back with his free hand) "You might as well come in then, since you're here and not peddling
religious tracts."

K: (she looked at him and debated it. She wasn't eager. It might as well just be another opening
for him to laugh at her)
E: (He saw her hesitation and then reached his hand forward toward her) "No sense in standing
there."

K : (she looked him over again, weighting it, before ignoring his head but stepping forward. She
entered his residence and looked around. He shut the door behind them. She studied the place
with a critical eye. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but this was...close enough. He came
up behind her, she felt him and turned.)

E: "I'd offer you something to drink, but sadly there’s nothing strong enough to take the edge off
this."

K: "You said to come."

E: "I wasn't serious."

K: "You kept the hallway entrance unlocked."

E: "I couldn't really relock it in front of you, could I?"

K: "You answered your door."

E: "Yes, that's harder to explain."

K: "Why?"

E: (walks by her, into the living room. He doesn't invite her but she follows. She watches as he
picks up book from small coffee table in front of couch, that he was apparently reading before
going to the door. The book is face down—he picks it up and turns back to her & speaks) “I
apparently wanted you to come. That’s the Occam’s razor cut anyway.”

K: “What are you reading?”

E: (he tilts the book her way; it has a huge wave on it, with a small body in the center: “The
Ghost Wave”)

K: (somewhat inanely; she’s seen him before) “You surf, don’t you?” (She blushes, for as she
says it, she’s looking right at a surfboard propped against the opposite wall)

E: (he answers, in deadpan voice) “Yes.”

K: (hesitantly) “I’ve seen you.”

E: “I’ve seen you see me.”

K: (she’s very flustered, brushes her hair back behind her ear, shifts in her stance, watches as he
clears the coffee table of all items, a few books and some stray items, which he tosses/walks over
to the kitchen island. Then he focuses back on the coffee table. Puts his hand on one edge, testing
it for stability.)
E: “What do you think? Will it hold?”

K: (she is confused) “Hold?”

E: (glances back over to her) “I’d ask your weight but I’d doubt you’d answer. Lest you think
I’m being an ass about it: I know it’s a girl thing, no judgment.”

K: “What?”

E: (He slaps the top of the table) “You, on the table.”

K: (Her voice is tremulous) “Uhh….”

E: “I trust Swedish workmanship.”

K: (There is fear and confusion in her voice.) “What?”

E: “Ikea.”

K: “I don’t…”

E: (He pats top of table again.) “You, on the table.”

K: (She starts to back away, and watches with raised brow.)

E: “I thought that’s what you came for?”

K: “No! I only…” (He just stood there, silent, staring at her, no expression on his face.) “You’re
mocking me.”

E: “Too late in the day for that, Packet.”

K: “Can you, for the love of GOD, get my name right?”

E: (He reaches over to the shelf beside him, pulls out a book and holds the cover out for her to
see, “Why I Am Not a Christian.”)

K: (She scowls, shifts her body in pent up irritation.) “For the love of Bertrand Russell then.”

E: (Another cocked brow) “Do you want to get this over with or not?”

K: “You’re not serious.”

E: (His face is expressionless, deadpan voice.) “What makes you think that?”

K: “The look on your stupid face!”

E: “You’re a good judge of my facial expressions? What’s this one?” (He narrowed his eyes and
his lips curled slightly.)

K: “It’s all a big joke to you, isn’t it? What happens to me?”
E: (He reaches up, scratches the side of his head, in his hair.) “No, Packet. That’s something I’m
serious about. You want me to spell it out for you? You need me to do that?”

K: “Go ahead.”

E: (He pats the tabletop again) “Four on the table or back to the bing.”

K: (She blanches, eyes widen.) “You are slime.”

E: (He scratches the side of this head, into his hair again.) “Maybe I’m joking. To be honest, I’m
not sure myself.”

K: (Stands, staring at him, studying him.) “I don’t understand you.”

E: (He sits down on the couch, reclining.) “It’s late, Packet. Or that’s one explanation.”

K: (A hesitant voice) “I don’t really have the luxury of being confused.”

E: (He looks up at her.) “I’m not going to report you, regardless of what happens now.”

K: (She’s even more confused now.) “I…I don’t…”

E: “My sentiments exactly.” (He stands up then.) “I need a drink. You want a drink?” (He heads
toward the kitchen.) “Don’t get your hopes up; we’re dry as Sister Bertilla’s vagoo in here.”

K: (She just stares at him.)

E: (He continues to the kitchen, opens the refrigerator door, calls back to her.) “I can do
cranberry juice, tomato juice, some of this Zevia grape soda, which you’re more than welcome
to.”

K: (She doesn’t say anything, but can hear him messing with something, then more to himself.)

E: “Ah, fuck it. Get rid of it.” (He comes out carrying 2 cans of soda, hands one out to her and
she just sits there, confused.) “Sure?” (she still doesn’t react so he puts hers down on the table,
tops the top of his and there’s an audible click-snap of the top. He takes a drink, then looks at
her.) “You look all sixes and sevens and nines there, Packet.”

K (It comes out very soft.) “I am.”

E: (he fingers the can in front of him.) “I am, too. So let’s figure it out.”

K: (she looks at him with suspicion.)

E: “Going to be forward here: Is this something you’re into?”

K: (blanches) “Uhh…”

E: “Might as well just put it out there.”

K: (Her face reddens) “Uh….it was you, you started it.”

E: (He looks up the left, thinking.) “Yeah, that’s true. But I think there’s more to it.”

K: (Her eyes are wide, shakes her head.) “You can think that if you want…”

E: (Looks at her with a slightly raised brow.) “You’re here, aren’t you?”

K: (Another deep blush) “But that was…” (Fights for words.) “You started that, too!”

E: (He shakes his head.) “Nope.”

K: (Rising panic and confusion) “Oh my god….”

E: “You should sit down.”

K: (Looks at him, mouth gaping.)

E: “Sit down. You look like you’re bringing on a case of the vapors.”

K: (shakes her head, more confusion and panic)

E: “Sit down. That’s an order.”

K: (puts her hand up to her mouth, and her hands are shaking)

E: (Command enters his voice ) “Sit your ass down, Packet!”

K: (She looks over at him, her eyes are shiny/wet. She slowly slides into the chair opposite him,
which she has been standing beside.)

E: (He pops open the can of grape soda and slides it over the table towards her.) “Have a drink.”

K: (She’s still wild-eyed, but she moves to comply, and her hand is still shaking)

E: “Take your time.”

K: (She tried to catch her breath, then eventually lifts the can to her mouth and takes a drink,
though her hand is still shaking. Her nose scrunches up at the taste of the soda.) “That’s nasty.”

E: “Sugar free.”

K (She takes another small sip with the same result)

E: “Some things should either have sugar or you just go without them, eh?”

K: (shakes her head, this time in a shiver) “Uggh.”

E: (he stares at her for minute, then asks) “So what are we going to do here, Packet?”
K: (She blushes again, but it’s more in the pink than bright red like before. She starts to talk, but
it’s wavering, uncertain.) “It’s…it’s not…really up to me. I don’t think.”

E: (He considers her, looks at her.) “I can do that. Got no problems there, but I need some kind of
affirmative. Nonverbal is fine, if that’s how it needs to go.”

K: (She can’t meet his eyes, looks down)

E: “How about this? If you can’t handle it, say…” (He again looks up and to his left again,
thinking.) “…I’m thinking something innocuous.” (He reaches over, takes another book off his
shelf, flips at random to a page, then says…) “Wittgenstein.” (He then returns book to the shelf
and looks back at her.) “Will that work? That’s not likely to come up by accident.”

K: (she keeps looking down, blush on her face)

E: “Usually I’d say silence isn’t consent, but this might be an exception.”

K: (He studies her some more and she can tell but thinks her heart might stop if she looks up at
him or speaks.)

E: (He studies her for a few more moments, then stands up and speaks, his voice has taken on a
noticeable edge.) “Alright, that’s enough. Stand up.”

K: (She looks up at him, then quickly back down, then obeys. She feels like her whole body is
vibrating, can see her arms shaking as she braces herself to stand.)

E: (again with the stern, no-nonsense tone of voice) “Look at me.”

K: (She does, but then looks quickly back down to her feet. She’s wearing white anklets, she
looks down at them can see they are a little dirty on the bottom, and she’s not sure why it causes
such an intense reaction, but she wants to cry.)

E: “I don’t see any reason to drag this out. You know what’s coming and you know why. Get up
on the table.”

K: (can’t control it, feels tears welling in her eyes and spilling over)

E: “There’ll be plenty of time for crying once we start, Packet. Now get up there.”

(He holds his hand out, she reluctantly takes it, feels almost a shock to her body at the feel of
him, her hand is his, warm. He guides her up on to the table, she feels unsteady, awkward, like
she’s going to fall or it will collapse, she feels so heavy and awkward. But then she’s on the
table, on all fours. She can’t believe it, how she’s here, how she got to this moment, here, in this
position. There was a pause, then she felt his touch, on her lower back. Then on her bottom.)

E: (confused whisper, low) “What are you wearing? Are you wearing pants?”

K: (makes a little wavering squeak of assent)

E: (hint of amusement, low) “The fuck, Packet? You wear pants to bed?”

K: (whisper) “Shorts.”

E: “Shorts, pants. What else? You think I invited you over to play strip poker?”

K: (embarrassed whisper) “No.”

E: “Poor form, Packet. Good God. Well, it’s coming off.”

(She felt his hands on her waist, around the band of her shorts, little alternate tugs, easing them
over her rear, down. Then his hand back on her bottom, over her panties, patting.)

E: “Wearing shorts. I’m so annoyed with you. The fuck? Okay, I want them all the way off.” (He
reaches for the shorts which have pooled around her knees, nudging each one up, then slides the
shorts down and unceremoniously onto the couch. Then he turns his attention back to her. He
laces his fingers together, stretches his arms. Then runs his hand over her butt, cupping each
cheek, lifting a little, as though weighing him in his hand.) “Before I get back in character, I
gotta say, you got some serious junk back here, girl. In a good way.” (He moans..”Mmmmm…”
(then…almost a whisper) “Wittgenstein, right? Okay.”

(I’m not going to write this right now, but the spanking happens. And I think he interjects with
lecturing, and she is crying silent, it’s affecting her a lot. At some point her knees are hurting, and
she says “Wittgenstein”. So Edan immediately stops, gets concerned, bends down to meet her
face. He says, “Did I hurt you? Shit!” And he reaches to help her up, he’s looking at her face,
sees she’s been crying silently. She reaches down hands to her knees. “My knees…” she says.

Edan: “That’s it?” He’s confused for a moment. “Your knees?”

S: (still rubbing) “From the table…”

E: “But you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

S: (now she rubs her butt) “Well, yeah. That hurts, too. Obviously.”

E: (he’s fishing now) “But not bad?”

S: “Yes, bad. What’s bad?” (look of concentration) “It hurts.”

E: “But Wittgenstein is for the knees, right?”

S: (feeling unsettled) “Well, I’m not really…”

E: “If it is, you better not have your hands covering that ass, Packet.”

S: (slows down the rubbing, hesitant) “Well…”

E: “In no way had you better be rubbing your backside right now, girl. And you know that, don’t
you?”
S: (his voice is gaining edge, authority, and her stomach drops, loses ability to speak coherently)
“Uh…” (She stops rubbing.)

E: (he approaches her, chest out, intimidating and he knows it) “Look at me.”

S: (she does, reluctantly, pulling her hands away from her butt)

E: (steps forward, chest to chest with her) “Are you eyeballing me, Packet?”

S: (her eyes widen and her mouth opens) “You told me…”

E: “Did I give you permission to speak?”

S: “But you…” (She the look on his face, she closes her mouth. Opens it again, and closes.)

E: “You still eyeballing me, Packet?”

S: (she opens and shuts her mouth again, averts her eyes)

E: “You’ve got a woeful lack of discipline, Packet. I’m gonna help with that. Aren’t you
grateful?”

S: (keeps her eyes averted, mouth closed)

E: (raising his voice noticeably) “You don’t answer when I ask you a question, Packet?”

S: (eyes still averted, muted voice) “Yes.”

E: (even more raise in intensity) “Yes, what?”

S: (soft) “Yes, sir.”

E: (snaps his fingers in front of her averted face)

S: (she raises his eyes to look at him)

E: “Eyeballing me again, Packet?”

S: (her mouth opens again, averts her gaze)

E: (he backs up, away from her) “We’ve got our own brand of IT here, Packet. Yes we do.” (He
approaches again, circles to her side, is close to her ear) “I think we can solve that knee and hand
problem. Solve both those at the same time.” (pause) “Look at me.”

S: (raises her eyes but keeps theme to the side.)

E: “Put your hands on our knees”

S: (she does, and is instantly well-aware of the vulnerable-ness of the position)

E: (teasing) “Little more.”

S: (she knows what he wants, arches her back a little bit more, raising her backside, which
suddenly feels like the center of every nerve in her body.)

E: (circles her once) “Hold that position, Packet. Guarantee I’m not gonna forget you.” (then he
walks off)

C: (hold still, but can feel her whole body vibrating. She takes a deep breath, trying to control her
breathing. She can hear sounds coming from a nearby room, like a scraping. She’s not sure what
it is, but it can’t bode well, she knows that. She hears him come back, approach her. Then stop.
She can’t stand the feeling of uncertainty/dread, she turns her head back to look at him. He
stands directly behind her, directly in her eyes. He’s holding a wooden spoon, it looks wide,
really wide. He brings it forward, tapping it against her hip)

E: (normal, calm tone of voice) “Where should those eyes be?” (taps again) “Forward, Packet.
‘To go forward is to move toward perfection.’ Do you know who said that, Packet? No? That’s
Khalil Gibran.”

C: (mutters) “Fascinating.”

E: (he’s overheard her) “Isn’t it? I think you forgot something though. I’ll give you 3 seconds to
correct it.” (He taps the spoon against her rear this time.)

C: (shifts her body weight) “Fascinating, sir.”

E: “There you go, moving ever closer to perfection.” (He taps her other cheek, adjust his aim,
tapping to weigh it, testing the planned trajectory of the stroke.)

C: (She shifts her body weight, then can’t stop herself, peeks back over her shoulder, and directly
meets his gaze)

E: “Again?” (Then he steps back.) “That’s another IT, Packet. Drop those panties.”

C: (she feels her stomach drop even lower. She hesitates, then hears him snapping his fingers.
She wants to peek back again but doesn’t dare. She tries to will herself to do it, but can’t, her
hands won’t move. She whispers) “I’m afraid.”

E: (calm steady voice) “You should be.” (pause) “Do you need help?”

C: “I…no. I…”

E: “Then I want you to do it.”

C: “Can I stand up?”

E: “Yes.”

C: (She takes her hands away from her knees and stands but hesitates again)

E: “Humiliating, isn’t it?”

C: (whisper) “Yes.”

E: “Are you crying?”

C: “No, sir.” (she’s somewhat surprised by this.)

E: “Too bad. I might have relented. Now take them down.”

C: (She takes a deep breath, then obeys, stopping at around mid-thigh.)

E: “All the way. Step out of them.”

C: (she does, blushing. Once she’s free of them, she nudge/kicks them with her feet, trying to
keep them as bunched-up as possible.)

E: (perceptive in his way) “What are you thinking?”

C: “I don’t want you to see my underwear.”

E: “I’ve been looking at them for the last 20 minutes, Cari.”

C: (she notices the use of her name, and pronounced correctly too. It releases something in her,
and she confides/opens up, in away she’s not sure she wants to, either, but it just comes out) “My
weight.”

E: (pause, then speaks) “I’m not breaking anything to you when if I say you got a fat ass. I am
when I say I love/adore fat asses. Are we clear on that?”

C: (soft, feeling her eyes tear up) “Yes.”

E: “I don’t want to hear anything more about that topic. Understood?”

C: “Yes.”

E: “Back in position.”

C: (she obeys.)

E: “Spread your legs a little. Just a little. Nothing obscene. Okay, that’s good. Hands as low as
it’s comfortable. Good. Now arch the back. Little more. Forward to perfect, remember? And…
perfect.” (he approaches her, pats her bottom with his hand, then positions himself) “This might
hurt a little. Ready?”

C: (before she can answer she feels the first one across the middle of butt.)

(Not going to go into this now, but spanking proceeds. Then ends, and he’s behind her. He seizes
her hand when she tries to rub her butt, says “Bad girl,” then holding her wrists does it himself.
She leans into his touch. The touch becomes slower, more sensual. He says…)

E: (low) “Fuck! I’m horny as hell right now. You better take off before the whole Nimitz class
shows up.”

C: (startled, starts to pull away) “The what?”

E: “Seamen.”

C: (scrunches up her face) “Ugh. You’re crude.”

E: “What? It’s not like I can hide it, eh?” (He gestures down to his crotch, and yes, he’s quite
obviously aroused)

C: (She grimaces and covers her eyes with the back of her hand)

E: (He laughs) “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was dealing with a new recruit.”

C: (She reaches over for her underwear, makes a face at him.) “Jerk. I’m just as experienced as
you are. I’ve never had any complaints, either.”

E: (smirks) “Oh, really?”

C: (blushes, bends over and starts to pull up her panties)

E: “Do you have a resume?”

C: (jerks up, her face hot, glares at him)

E: (laughs again, louder. The look on her face is so adorable, he thinks. “You look like an angry
kewpie doll.”

He puts his hand under her chin and bends down and kisses her.

C: (She brings both her hands up to his chest, and her panties fall back around her ankles. Then
she digs her fingers into his shirt and begins to respond.

Edan pulls back and bents down, whispers close to her ear, “You taste like tart cherries, with just
a dash of salt.”

Cari’s heart starts to race, blush, begins to fluster. “What…what did you think I would?”

Edan strokes his hand down her cheek. “Dunno, but I like it.” He lowers his mouth again and
they kiss, sensual and lingering. She can feel him almost sucking at her mouth and tongue, slow
and lazy. Then he makes a sound between a grunt and a growl and reaches down, grabs the
cheeks of her butt, squeezes. She gasps—she’s a little sore. Then to her shock he lifts her up. She
instinctively grasps her hands around his neck. He starts walking forward, carrying her. She
manages to disengage her mouth from his long around to get out a breathless, “You’ll hurt your
back…” He cuts her off, his mouth once more grasping hers. In a moment more she’s vaguely
aware they’re in another room—a bedroom, his bedroom. He takes one hand off her butt and
leans forward, propping his palm against the bedspread. Then one knee then the next on top of
the bed, crawling their two bodies up the bed as she hangs on, ankles locked around his waist.
They kiss some more as she runs her hands over and over his back—big broad strong back, she
thinks, a broad masculine body, it’s always drove her mad, and into his hair. Then Edan starts to
crouch up. She regretfully loosens her arms from around him. Then he’s over her, straddling her.
As she looks up at him he lifts his shirt over his head, tosses it aside. She runs her eyes down his
chest. God, he’s so beautiful, she thinks. Perfect. He knew she was looking at him, too. He made
sure she was watching as his hands went to his waistband, undoing the button then at the zipper.

“Is this what you want?”

With a tremulous voice she whispers, “Are we….going…?”

“To fuck? That’s what I had in mind, yes. You?”

She ran her tongue lightly along her lower lip then answered, “Yes.”

(she is very self-conscious about her body, but he insists she take off her top. Maybe she makes
some comment about being overweight again and he scolds her. He already told her that was a
dead topic. He touches her stomach, this obviously upsets her. He holds his hand there until she
calms down. He tells her if she didn’t turn him on he wouldn’t be in bed with her, past the point
of common sense.)

And then he bends down and kisses her, and she responds. And from there, to bed.

4. Coitus completeis, and they eventually get up. He gets up and gets his guitar or something and
starts to play. And she would ask him about it, and he would look over at her. (I wonder if he
plays something incongruous, like Leonard Cohen's "Suzanne...takes you down..."

Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river

You can hear the boats go by, you can spend the night beside her

And you know that she's half-crazy but that's why you want to be there

And she feeds you tea and oranges that come all the way from China

And just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her

Then he gets you on her wavelength

And she lets the river answer that you've always been her lover

And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind

And you know that she will trust you

For you've touched her perfect body with your mind

And Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water

And he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower

And when he knew for certain only drowning men could see him

He said all men will be sailors then until the sea shall free them

But he himself was broken, long before the sky would open

Forsaken, almost human, he sank beneath your wisdom like a stone

And you want to travel with him, and you want to travel blind

And you think you maybe you'll trust him

For he's touched your perfect body with his mind

Now, Suzanne takes your hand and she leads you to the river

She's wearing rags and feathers from Salvation Army counters

And the sun pours down like honey on our lady of the harbor

And she shows you where to look among the garbage and the flowers

There are heroes in the seaweed, there are children in the morning

They are leaning out for love and they will lean that way forever
While Suzanne holds her mirror

And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind

And you know that you can trust her

For she's touched your perfect body with her mind…

She listens to the lyrics and she’s afraid she’ll start crying. And she's wrapped up in a sheet, and
she would be embarrassed, and try to beg off, say she's sorry and go to put on her clothes. And he
says, he's not kicking her out, she doesn't have to go. And she would make reluctant, apologetic
sounds and he says well, up to you. And she says, "i'll dress though." and he goes back to
playing. (what is he wearing, loose shorts or naked...might he ask her to throw him his shorts at
some point? dunno. I think as a matter of course he goes around his apartment naked.) And she
asks about the song again, and he tells her what it is, perhaps with a bit of snobbery or
condescension. Then he plays Into the Mystic, tells her if she don’t know who Van Morrison is
she’s out the door.

We were born before the wind

Also younger than the sun

Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic

Hark, now hear the sailors cry

Smell the sea and feel the sky

Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic

And when that foghorn blows I will be coming home

And when that foghorn blows I want to hear it

I don't have to fear it

I want to rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of old

Then magnificently we will float into the mystic

And when that foghorn blows you know I will be coming home

And when that foghorn whistle blows I got to hear it

I don't have to fear it

I want to rock your gypsy soul

Just like way back in the days of old

And together we will float into the mystic

Come on girl

Too late to stop now…

And she says, she's heard him play sometimes, from her room. Oh, he says, he didn't know it
carried that far. He might ask her what music she listens to (with condescension) and she tells
him. Stuff of her Dad’s mostly. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Well, I like Wings.”

“The fuck? McCartney and not even the Beatles?” He shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Cari.”

Cari shrugs, and says, “I like a lot of hippie stuff, too.”

“Lemme guess…” he strums and sings…

They paved paradise

And put up a parking lot

With a pink hotel, a boutique

And a swinging hot spot

Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you've got

'Till it's gone

They paved paradise

And put up a parking lot

They took all the trees

And put them in a tree museum

And they charged all the people

A dollar and a half just to see 'em

Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you've got

'Till it's gone

They paved paradise

And they put up a parking lot

Hey farmer, farmer

Put away that D.D.T. now

Give me spots on my apples

But leave me the birds and the bees

Please

Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you've got

'Till it's gone

They paved paradise

And put up a parking lot

Late last night

I heard the screen door slam

And a big yellow taxi

Took away my old man

Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you've got

'Till it's gone

They paved paradise

And put up a parking lot

Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you've got

'Till it's gone

They paved paradise

Put up a parking lot

They paved paradise

And put up a parking lot

They paved paradise

Put up a parking lot…

He might guess, plays Joni Mitchell, that she likes that. She’s surprised, because she does. (She
adds her hometown has a tree museum!!! “No shit?”) He says, he just knows. It was between
Joni or Stevie Nicks.

She comes back with “Tori Amos”.

“Ah,” he says, “Toni Amos, of course.” He might play a few bars,

God sometimes you just don't come through

God sometimes you just don't come through

Do you need a woman to look after you?

God sometimes you just don't come through

Do you need a woman to look after you?

God sometimes you just don't come through…

Then he says, “You do PJ Harvey?” She doesn’t know any PJ Harvey, and he tells her she needs
PJ Harvey in her life.

Hey I'm one big queen

No one can stop me

Red light, red green

Sat back, I'm watchin'

I'm number one

Second to no one

No sweat I'm clean

Nothin' can touch me

I'll tell you my name

F-U-C-K

Fifty foot queenie

Force ten hurricane

Biggest woman

I could have ten sons

Ten Gods

Ten queens

Ten foot and risin'

Hey I'm the king of the world

You ought to hear my song

Ah come on measure me

I'm twenty inches long

Glory glory

Lay it all on me

Fifty foot Queenie

Fifty and rising

You can bend over

Casanova

No sweat I'm clean

Nothing can stop me

Hey I'm the king of the world

You better to hear my song

You come on measure me

I'm twenty inches long

Hey I'm the king of the world

You better to hear my song

You come on measure me

I’m thirty inches long

Hey I'm the king of the world

You better to hear my song

You come on measure me

I’m forty inches long

Hey I'm the king of the world

You better to hear my song

You come on measure me

I’m fifty inches long

Fifty foot queenie

Fifty foot queenie

Fifty foot queenie

Fifty foot queenie

Fifty foot queenie…

It’s clear Cari doesn’t know what to make of this, so he drops the line of questioning, wondering
if she’s mistaking his suggestion of female empowerment for a comment on her weight. He’s
silent a moment, then plays a song, saying you might know this one:

I've been thinking 'bout the times

You walked out on me

There were moments I'd believe, you were there

Do I miss you, or am I lying to myself again

I do these things...

It's all because of you

I keep holding on, but I'll try

Try not to think of you

Love don't leave me lonely

I'll be alright without you

There'll be someone else...I keep tellin' myself

I'll be alright without you

Oh...love's an empty face, I can't replace

People wonderin' why we broke apart

The great pretender here I go again

These things I do

It's all because of you

I'll keep holdin' but I'll try

Try not to think of you

All I wanted was to hold you

I'll be alright without you

There'll be someone else, I keep tellin' myself

I'll be alright without you

Love's an empty face...Oh I've got to replace

I'll be alright without you

There'll be someone else, I keep tellin' myself

I'll be alright without you

Oh...love's an empty place, I can still see your face

I'll be alright…

He has that little catch in his voice, too, she thinks. God. “You’re really good,” she says.

“I need you to go back in time 16 years and tell the crowd at Larry’s Beach Club.” And he would
tell her that he used to be in a band.

“You had a band?”

“Yep.”

And she said, you played that, your band?

"Journey? Hell no. We were a surf punk band---an unfairly maligned Samoan surf punk band—
with legit angry Samoans, I’ll add…Alas, no money to be made there. I needed to make money,
played competent guitar and can do a passing Steve Perry, so I played oldies with a cover band
up at Santa Monica Pier. I know my 70’s and 80’s mullet head repertoire.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Playing in cover bands?”

“Playing, I meant. For a living.”

He gives her a “duh” look, with raised brow. “You think that’s a growth industry?”

“You’re good, is what I meant.”

“Cari, you can make more money selling pot after the show. Which was my mainline sideline
back then.”

“You did drugs?”

“Ugh, poor word choice. I sold pot, smoked pot. Experimented with some other stuff. Nothing
too heavy.”

“You sold drugs?”

“Yep. The irony, huh?” He gestures to his tattoos, which she’d noticed before, striking
Polynesian blackwork. “That’s what paid for my ink.”

She widens and blinks her eyes. “So how’d you end up…?”

“I’d fucked up my life about as far as I could. Fucked up my life and a handful of other people’s
that cared about me. The military seemed a good way to go. It was, all things considered.”

Thinking, trying to calculate the time period. “Did you…?”

“Serve overseas? Yep, couple tours in Iraq, one in Afghanistan. No, I didn’t kill anybody. I was a
MP.”

“So that’s where law enforcement came in?”

He’s tuning his guitar, testing chords. “Sort of. When I got out I needed to make some money in
a hurry. Got an AA degree in Criminology and Justice Studies, job with the Department of
Corrections. Here I am.”

He starts another song:

It's such a long way down

Maybe I should try a floor below

A softer landing might just ease the pain

Being a coward is such a drag...

Getting so depressed

Getting so depressed

Getting so depressed

Getting so depressed

Getting so depressed

It's such a long way down…

Maybe a floor below could ease the pain

Ease the pain

Ease the pain

It’s such a long way down

Maybe I should try a floor below

Being a loser is such a drag...

Getting so oppressed

Getting so oppressed

Getting so oppressed

Getting so oppressed

Getting so oppressed…

“Recognize that?” She shakes her head. “Too bad. If you did, it might be true love.”

She looks confused.

“The Wipers. Potential Suicide.”

“That’s…depressing.”

“How many happy suicides you know?”

She adjusts the sheet over breasts. “Why’d you pick that?”

He looks up at her. “Huh?”

“That song, after talking about your job.”

“Ah.” (pause) “How many happy corrections officers you know?”

She hesitates, then presses ahead. “You said you needed to make money. Was that…well…Janet
said you’d been married before?”

Lopsided smile. “Janet likes to pass on tales, I see. What she’d tell you?”

“Just that you were divorced, and…” she stops.

“Brittany cleaned out my bank account? Yep. Janet tell you what she spent it on?” Cari shakes
her head. “Gifts, vacations with the guy she was doing while I was in Parwan Province. One of
them to Vegas, where she married the guy.”

Cari widens her eyes. “But I thought...? How...?”

“Yep. My wife was a bigamist.” He strums a little then sings, looking at her with a wry smile:

Her man's been gone

For nigh on a year

He was due home yesterday

But he ain't here

Her man's been gone

For nigh on a year

He was due home yesterday

But he ain't here…

He says, “You’re asking a lot questions.”

She’s a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. You’re not usually so forthcoming. I’m just curious about
you.”

"Don't be."

It comes out very cold, and it’s obvious it shocked her, hurt. He looks at her, sees the look on her
face and adds. “Nothing personal. This is a one and done deal, for reasons that should be
obvious.”
Cari says, with a little tartness. “Yeah, I got that.”

He looks at her. “Okay, good. Just so we’re on the same page.”

Cari feels her chest burning, can feel heat flush on her cheeks. He fiddles some more with his
guitar. Cari is still there, burning up but doesn’t want to show it, wants be as blasé’ about it as he
is. After a few minutes she says, “Well, thanks for the concert. I’m going to bed now.”

He looks up at her again, silent studying. “Okay. Goodnight then.”

She feels her cheeks heating up hotter. Closed mouth smile. “Same.”

“You know it’s not personal, right?”

Deepens closed mouth smile, painful, like it’s going to cut into the sides of her cheeks. “Of
course I know. Isn’t it obvious?” (pause) “Except for the parts fitting, we’re no great match.”

Cari walks out, head high. Up the stairs, through the door, up the staircase, into her room. She’d
like to take a shower but it’s too late, wake everyone up. Instead runs some water into the sink,
strips down, gets out a washcloth and wipes down. The water drips down her legs, drops, feels
cold, and onto the floor. She throws away the washcloth. She runs more water and washes her
face, she starts to cry as she washes her face, her tears mingling with the water. She holds the
washcloth over her face, over her mouth and nose.

She tries some self-talk: she knew from the first nothing could ever be between them, and that he
wouldn't be interested in her, guys like that never are, and that him being in his position is a
convenient way to get rid of her without hurting her feelings, and she wonders how many other
women he's done this with, and she can't think of anyone currently in the house but there was
probably more, before her and after her, and that makes her heart hurt, and now she feels even
more lonely and lost than before.

They still have Tuesdays, which is somewhat awkward to her, but he’s actually nice and friendly
to her, if with (to her) a somewhat superficial overtone. He invites her to sit in the office, keep
him company, while he fills out his bullshit paperwork. She does. It’s a contentious conversation
on her part, which he ignores (she knows he knows though). As he’s filling out paperwork, no
doubt some budgetary sheet, he remarks.

“Feminine hygiene products are the biggest money grab of all time. $5.64 for cotton swabs for
lady parts? Ridiculous.”

She asks him outright.

“Are you a misogynist?”

He looks up at her, “The fuck?”

“Do you know what the word means?

“Yes, I know what the word means, Packet. You think I’m a misogynist?”

“One must ask.”

“One did. And I asked you, what makes you think I hate women?”

“You surely hate some women.”

“Yeah, I hate some women. I’m an asshole to some women, but I’m an equal opportunity
asshole, Cari.”

(again, she notes the use of her name)

“Do you use feminine-gendered names to insult men?

“Like, what,…pardon the language…cunt?”

With a moue of distaste she responds, “That’s one.”

“To the best of my knowledge, I have not called anyone a cunt.”

“Anyone male?”

“Anyone male.”

“A woman?”

(with a bit of visual discomfort) “I won’t claim to have lived a spotless life. It’s not language I
would use anymore.”

“How about ‘bitch’?’

His eyes widen a measure, and she thinks she might see a bit of blush. “Yeah, I’ve referred to
people as bitches. It’s essentially unisex in modern usage.”

Cari shifts in her seat. “That’s a bit facile.”

Eden puts down his pen and straightens his posture. “How so?”

“When you call a woman a bitch, it’s clear she—a she, no question—is someone you don’t like,
for any number of reasons. Maybe she’s done something you don’t agree with, maybe she’s
rejected you for someone else…”

A bit of scowl crosses his face. “Go on.”

“But when you call another man a bitch, the meaning behind it is he’s weak, he’s lesser, not a
“real” man, he’s a “pussy”. Correct?”

Blank face. “Maybe.”

“Calling a man a bitch is a way to emasculate him. Because there’s no bigger insult to a man than
to be a woman.”

“I thought your degree was in Social Ecology, not Feminist Studies.”

Cari stares him right in the eye. “Do I lie?”

“I suspect you lie all the fucking time; I just haven’t been able to prove it yet.”

Cari flushes, straightens, starts to stand up. Eden the opposite: he leans back, crosses his arms
over his chest.

“But you’re right. It’s sexist. Thanks for pointing that out.”

Cari looks at him with some skepticism. His look doesn’t waver.

“I apologize for calling you a bitch.”

“Thank you,” she returns, clearly uncomfortable, and makes her way out the door. “I have to go
before I’m late.”

That Edan’s aware she doesn’t have to be anywhere in particular, but he doesn’t ask. “Okay.
5:00PM lock-in, per usual.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says, making her way down the hallway towards the door.

Later meet up:

He’s trying to be nice to her, in an obvious, almost forced way, to her reckoning.

“Is there a reason you’re being nice to me?”

“Uh…because I’m a nice person?”

“Well, you’re not though. Or at least you haven’t been that way in the recent past.”

“Yeah, I was a dick to you before. I acknowledge that.”

“You were cruel. You were deliberately hurtful.”

“Okay. I acknowledge that as well. Will you accept a mea culpa or you want to kick me in the
balls a few times?”

“I thought your balls were off-limits now, and ever more?”

He scratches his temple. “Okay. It’s time for this conversation.”

She scowls. “No, it really isn’t. I don’t need you to explain anything to me. I get it. I got it. It’s
all good.”
A hint of sigh. “No, Cari. It’s obviously not.”

“Well, Edan…” (I don’t think she’s ever used his name before.) “…I don’t think we have enough
in common to part as friends, do we?”

He gestures with his hand, palm down…’hold up’…

“Though of course we’re not parting. Not for another 3 (?) weeks. But it’s not like you can put
asunder what was never twain to begin with.”

Leans back and crosses his arms. “It was a big mistake, what went down the other day.”

Tartly. “Tell me about it.”

“It was a big fucking mistake because I could lose my job, and it was a bigger fucking mistake
because it’s obvious you couldn’t handle it.”

Again, tart, sarcastic. “No, of course I couldn’t handle it. You were just too much man for me,
Edan.”

Disgust/frustration. “Shut up, Cari. It was a mistake because it’s obvious I hurt you. You’re
too…” (stops, changes tack) “You’re vulnerable. I should have known that. I did know that.”

“Well, boo ho. I’ll get over it, believe me.”

“Will you?”

Acid tone. “I don’t need your sympathy.” (pause) “And I never did.” (though she knows that’s
not true. She did, but it was clear it wasn’t going to be forthcoming. And yet she’d had sex with
him anyway. Stupid! She turns to leave.

“Hold up.”

“I’m in a hurry.”

“The fuck you are. Don’t forget who’s still in charge here.”

She turns back. “Could I ever?”

He closes his eyes, breath. Trying to hold his temper. “Cari, I want you to know one thing, since I
mucked up making it clear the other day…”

“Everything was quite clear, I assure you.”

With more force. “Shut up.” (another breath, and raised brows) “I don’t feel sorry for you. And I
have zero regrets about the other day. It just can’t happen again. You get that?”

Tart, half eye roll. “Yeah, I got that twice already.”

Harder voice. “You get the full thing, not just the latter half?”
Firmer tone from her. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

She regulates her voice. Antagonizing him will just prolong the conversation, which she was
passed ready to be over. “Yes.”

He studies her face, trying to gauge her sincerity. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?”

She slow blinks, bites a little at her bottom lip. “So I’ve been told.”

“Well, I’m not sure where else to take this.” He can see she’s got a comeback ready to fly but is
restraining it. “You want the last word?”

“No. I’m all good, I told you.”

“Yeah, well…I’m not going to drag this out then. I’m available, if you want to talk. About
whatever. Or nothing. I do enjoy your company, Cari.”

She feels a wave of anger, then a wave of pain that she channels back into anger. Anger was safe.
Anger wouldn’t make her cry. She did not what to cry in front of him. Or over him, ever. She
tried out a tight, closed mouth smile.

“I really do have to go now.”

He knows it’s hollow. Nothing he can do about it though, except make it worse. “Okay. I won’t
keep you.”

“Thanks.” She thought about snarkily tacking on his name again, but she couldn’t stand it.
Saying it out loud, though once in her mouth swallow it was just as bad. It stuck down in her
throat, like an oversize XX pill. It cut her going down. She quickly turned and left.

000000000

Where his goes from here: Zack gets in touch with her, discreetly and they start seeing each other
—discreetly, because she’s not supposed to have contact with anyone she used to know.
Somehow she—to get phone cards, don’t know, it’s something---she needs for Zack but she tells
Edan it’s to get in touch with her father who’s ill (and that’s at least the truth). So Edan gives it to
her, definitely against policy, he’s risking something to do this. Edan has started to develop
feelings for her but he doesn’t say it—I mean, it should be clear from what he’s doing. But her
time runs out at the house and she’s leaving…and he finds out she’s been using him. Oh boy is
he hot. He’s raging angry, tells her she’s going to regret it. He can’t/won’t do anything officially,
but he says he’ll get even. Cari is a little scared (because Edan can be scary) but she doesn’t
think he can really do anything—He has as much, maybe more to lose than she does. So she
moves on to the next stage in her life. She has her own apartment, has to report to a parole
officer, has a job—not an especially great one, but it’s doable and not too much of a drag. And
she can support herself in albeit modest means.

She doesn’t know it but Edan has been watching her. He somehow manages to ingratiate himself
to Zack (under an assumed name). He befriends Zack. Cari is to meet Zack in a bar. She shows
up and Zack is already pretty buzzed, with some friends (old friends) and Zack tells her his new
friend Eddie is coming by. Well, Eddie turns out to be Edan, and Zack is really drunk, can’t drive
Cari to her place (she has to work the next day) so “Eddie” ends up doing it. She’s a little buzzed
too, but not as bad. He drives her to her place. She doesn’t say anything, but she knows she’s
busted; he’s got her by the ovaries. He walks her up to her apartment. She doesn’t resist; she
knows what’s coming. He slips off his belt the moment they get inside her place. She is quiet,
acquiescent. (more….) “God, how I’ve wanted to do this,” he says. He has her stand against the
wall, hands on the wall, and whips her. Tells her to stay still. When he’s done she turns around,
teary-eyed. “Edan, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You should be proud. You fucked me over and got away with it.”

“It wasn’t…”

“The fuck it wasn’t. You played me good. The Devil Went Down to Georgia good. Brava! Go on,
rub my face in it.”

Cari pauses. “You’re holding a belt.”

Edan tosses it aside.

She looks at him. Big, strong, so beautiful. So angry.

“You could break me in half.”

“I want to.”

Towards the ending: she realizes she made a mistake, after a month or two, and goes to tell him
so, to apologize, to try to mend fences and make amends. Only when she goes to the facility, he’s
not there. He’s gone. Does she talk to Janet? No one knows where he is, where he went. He just
resigned. Janet might mention, if Cari doesn’t already know, that Edan’s family is in Oceanside.
She looks it up, the Gale residence (or Janet may have passed on this information) and goes
down there. She doesn’t call, figures that this is something she needs to do in person. So she
drives down there. She goes to the door, knocks. Char answers. Cari thinks, yes, this is the right
place. She can see the resemblance. She tells Char, awkwardly…well…

Yes? (Cari just stands there, awkward) Can I help you?

Uhm…forgive me for intruding, but...are you related to Edan Gale, by chance?

“I’m his mother.”

Cari still awkward.

“Would you like to come inside?”

Char opens the door, Cari comes in.

What does the house look like, because Cari would be looking around. She does notice that they
seem solidly middle class. Nice people. They probably have obvious Christian paraphernalia
around.

“Do you want to talk to Edan?”

(surprised) “He’s here?”

“Not at the moment. But if you need to see him, he’s probably at the Church.”

Cari is skeptical at this, and it probably shows on her face.

“Oh, not our church.” (perhaps a weak laugher) “I stopped holding my breath on that long ago.
He’s at the beach. They call it The Church. I can give you directions if you want. It’s not that
far.”

So Char instructs her how to get there. Cari is walking down the sidewalk, wondering if this is
good idea, if she’s not going to end up lost, wandering in the sand, or what she’s actually say to
him if she finds him. As she’s walking, she sees Edan coming up the same sidewalk. His hair is
slicked back, wet, in swim trunks, carrying his board. He looks at her in surprise. He wipes some
of the hair out off of his forehead.

“Cari?”

“Edan.”

There’s silence, then one of them says, “This is kind of weird.”

Anyway, she apologizes, says she wants to mend fences, etc. He listens, then says apologetically,
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Leaving?”

“The country,” he adds.

“Seriously?”

“I suppose that would be a good way to get rid of you, if I wanted to. But no, it’s true.”

Then he elaborates. He’s quit his job. He’s joining an ashram. “No, not forever. Just, like, a year.
Find enlightenment, or some shit. No, seriously, I gotta take some time to think about things.”

She realizes she’s created a monster here. She knows he’s going to HATE it there. It’s like,
mostly silent, meditate all day. It’s fricking in Nepal or something. There are no beaches there!
He will hate it, she knows. He’ll last maybe a week before wanting to poke his eyes out, or
someone else’s. But she doesn’t think she can tell him that. It’s not her place, for one thing, and
he probably wouldn’t listen anyway. He needs to do what he wants to do, and learn from there,
she guesses. But it’s sad to here, they reconnect, and this.

They may well spend that day together. She gets to meet his family. They maybe even
(discreetly!) have sex. Illicit sex, teenager sex, since it’s in his parent’s house, and they aren’t
married. Then she sees him off the next morning, on the plane. It’s quite sad for her.

Here is the understanding. She can’t come. She’s still on probation and can’t leave the country.
He’s supposed to be over there a year, at least. He’ll be out of communication for the most part.
No internet, no cell phone. The best he could do is write, and that’s not really encouraged. It’s
supposed to be a spiritual reset, or something. (Again, she’s thinking, oh no, what is you doing
baby?) She has say, 4 months left on probation. He’ll be back in a year, probably. Then they’ll
see what happens. Or that’s the official line.

So she goes back to her job, is trying to set her life back on track. After, dunno, 5 months or so,
she gets an email. It’s probably something that’s been forwarded to her, gotten to her somehow.
(How does he have her email address? Maybe it’s just a generic address, like a yahoo addy.
Anyway, she opens the email. (return sender? Maybe evony or something, or doug, his dad?) It’s
from Edan. He’s left the ashram (shocker, she thinks). He’s in Indonesia, little place on one of the
islands there, Mentawai Islands. He’s working with some surfers, eco surfing trips. He’s doing
that, surfing, and instruction, that kind of thing. He loves it there. He’s thinking of opening a
fusion taco stand on the beach. Cari is thinking, dear god, Edan, what are you thinking? (re: the
taco stand). But he’s bought her a ticket. She can come and be with him, if she wants. (How long
before the flight? It’s probably not that long, maybe a few days, a week?) This will be a major
thing, a major decision for her. It’s scary. She’s rebuilding her life, or trying to, and here is
another life waiting for her, if she decides to take it. She’s be leaving everything behind really.
It’s not like you can take that much on an airplane. But anyway, she decides to do it. He asks her
that, if she comes, maybe she can bring his guitar, maybe some book or what not. Anyway, she’s
ready to go. It’s a 30 hour flight. She’s terrified. What if she walks off the plane and he’s not
there? (The flight is from LAX to Narita to Kuala Lumpur to Pedang.

And she’s terrified. She doesn’t know, even if Edan is there, what she’ll find. Will there be
electrical outlets? Potable water? Komodo dragons? I mean, she knows it’s not third world stuff,
but how rustic is “rustic”? Is Edan the best judge of what’s rustic and what’s unlivable? And will
she actually find Edan waiting?

So she exits the plane. Yes, Edan is there. She looks at him, he waves. (Has his appearance
changed? Probably. Longer hair, tanned, sleeker body from surfing all day. He looks different but
fucking good, no doubt.) She wonders, should she run to him? She feels like she should run
towards him, like in a movie. It feels like a movie. She felt pure joy seeing him there. Radiating
joy, unlike anything she’s ever know or ever felt was real, possible. But she tells herself, walk,
just walk. I think her insides are jumping, her skin is jumping. Anyway they reach each other,
hug. It’s a little awkward perhaps. Edan says, “Was I supposed to run? It felt like I was supposed
to run.” And Cari knows right then, this is real. This is right. This was meant to be.

End.

Mentawai Islands in Indonesia (surfing). Not only do the Mentawais have arguably the most
world-class breaks, pound-for-pound, mile-for-mile, than anywhere else in the world, they're also
blessed with warm, clear water and electric-colored reefs and passes. Their orientation,
bathymetry, weather patterns, and swell window cooperate beautifully, producing consistently
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you'll ever find. There's a reason every pro surfer spends at least a couple of weeks in the
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to charter a boat with a group of friends. And hand's down, the Pelagic is the best: a hulking, 66-
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The only boat in the Mentawais that was purpose-built for surf charters, it's staffed up with a top-
notch crew of experienced locals, an insane chef, and a rugged captain who's been surfing in the
Mentawais for over 15 years. The lot of them take care of your every possible need with an easy
smile, and are devoted to making sure you're in the right spot at the right time – all while
ensuring you get there safely, and in style.

The best day aboard the Pelagic (and every day was the best day) went something like this:
Wake up to the sound of the anchor being dropped (the Pelagic is a live-aboard boat with four
cabins below deck, all comfortable flat beds with positively Arctic air conditioning). Then,
quickly throw down a cup of coffee and the fresh fruit waiting for you. Next, jump overboard,
into crystal clear blue water that hovers around 80 degrees. Hit up head-high to double-overhead
waves for a bit before heading back to the boat for made-to-order breakfast (anything from
amazing burritos to Nasi Goreng: Indonesian fried rice with vegetables and an egg on top).
Rinse, repeat throughout the day, with a break for an air-conditioned afternoon siesta to beat the
punishing equatorial heat, followed by a final session that lasts until about sunset. Then, an
incredible sit-down dinner, and off to bed by 9:30 in preparation for doing it all over again the
next day.

After two weeks aboard the Pelagic, you're guaranteed to be surfed-out, albeit wearing a perma-
smile and wondering how you ever lived otherwise. [13-day trip for 8 people is approx
$4,900/each plus airfare; pelagic-charters.com]