Later, when E was napping in her robe on a lawn chair, shaded by my mother’s black umbrella, which I had leaned on the side of her chaise, and I was drying myself by the side of the pool in my one-piece, I noticed Manfred, the driver, on a patch of grass behind the motel, performing karate moves in a yellow sun visor and a brown Speedo that blended in with his skin so well that at first glance I thought he was naked. Manfred kicked out fast, his lean muscles rippling.

Eventually, the band and Holly straggled out of their rooms. Holly was in a bikini, her long, lean legs and concave tummy on full display. I looked down at my little roll of pudge and covered myself with a towel. Joy and Troy emerged from their room in T-shirts and underwear. Joy was drinking a Coke and wore a huge pair of sunglasses. Her shaved blond head set off her tawny skin. She wore a big silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand.

“How’s it going, Rox?” she asked me.

“Okay,” I said, embarrassed and pleased that Joy had spoken to me and given me a nickname, all in one go. She looked over at E.

“She good?”

“I think so. She really had fun in the pool.”

“We were watching you,” said Joy, jutting her head in the direction of her window. “You’re a really nice person.” Just then, Harvest emerged. I hoped he’d heard. He sat down a few feet apart from the others and put his feet in the water morosely.

“Hey, Harvest Moon,” said Joy, walking over to him and putting her arm around him in a sisterly way. “We got a gig tonight.”

“I’m aware of that,” said Harvest.

“I’m just trying to boost morale,” said Joy, walking back over to Troy and taking a cigarette from a pack in his T-shirt pocket. “Fuck.”

“What time are we going to be in L.A.?” Holly asked, slathering suntan oil over her legs.

“Sound check’s at six,” said Dougie. “We should take a powder by three.”

“Take a powder?” asked Holly, surprised.

“It just means leave,” said Dougie. “Although we could also take some powder,” he added, kissing Holly sloppily. She pushed him away as if he were a slobbering dog.

“Not before the gig,” said Harvest.

“No, only cocoa before the gig,” said Joy mockingly, ripping off her T-shirt and revealing her naked chest. She had very dark nipples. Harvest looked like he was about to cry.

“I have no wish to get arrested,” said Manfred, who had finished his karate and was entering the pool gingerly, still in his yellow visor, his arms held above the water as though it were freezing.

“Why would you get arrested?” asked Joy. “I’m the one who’s naked.”

“Well may you ask,” said Manfred, plunging into a choppy breaststroke. Holly narrowed her eyes, watching him. I knew that look well.

“Where do you live, Manfred?” she asked.