Gordy set up the tent and spread out my blanket on top of his foam-rubber pad, to which Frodo laid immediate claim. The pad felt great. I liked it as much as Frodo did. Once I got Gordy to stop asking questions, I went right to sleep.

I slept in, and when I peeked out of the tent, I saw the others eating stewed tomatoes and soybeans and fried zucchini and reading the GuideBook. Waffles and omelets haunted me. Even cold lasagna would have drawn me out of the tent. Not this.

Rummaging through the items in David’s backpack, I picked up his mirror, staring into it, craning my neck until I could see my whole face. I couldn’t believe I’d let my hair get so ragged. I was spending so much time looking at the TravelGuide I’d forgotten to take care of myself. I’d first noticed it in the bathroom mirror at Bartholomew’s mansion; now I couldn’t stand letting it go a moment longer.

I took David’s scissors and cut my hair. My beard had grown rough, so I shaved it clean. Hair had even begun to grow out my ears and nose. Yuck! I was beginning to look like Shad. That was a scary thought. If people were going to respect me as a leader, I needed to pay more attention to how I looked.

After Gordy packed our stuff, I led the way. Later we came across some traders, and I tried on some new clothes. I offered to swap a few of David’s items, but they weren’t satisfied.

Gordy stepped up to the traders. “Here, take a look at this.” He handed one of them a shiny quartz rock with a distinctive reddish tint. “Zed gave it to me. Here, it’s yours if you give Mr. Nick his choice of new clothes. What do you say?”

They looked it over, nodded, and agreed.

“Get something for yourself too, Gordy,” I said.

He picked out a couple of shoestrings. I walked away with two pairs of pants, two shirts, a sweater, and some tennis shoes. I threw away my old clothes. I should have dumped them long before.

“You look great,” Victoria said to me.

“Thanks. I feel great.”

“I like it when you lead,” Victoria whispered to me. I saw the admiration in her eyes. “You’re more sensitive than Shad. And more like us. He’s just too … demanding.”

“I hear you,” I said, glancing back at Shad, who walked by himself at the rear, looking even more unpleasant than usual. I walked past Gordy, who carried his bags of stones and mine and also a bag with some of my new clothes hooked on his pack. He’d insisted.

“If your sacks weren’t so full of stones,” I said to Gordy, “you could carry a lot more.”

“No problem,” Gordy said. “The stones aren’t that heavy.”