Walker came back from Hawaii and the first time the four of them convened at the bus, he took one look at Jon and knew what was going on. For a change, Destiny was cool. She kept her distance, her manner strictly matter-of-fact. Jon and Creed and Walker smoked dope and shot the shit while she sat cross-legged in the grass, reading Tarot cards. Jon thought they’d pretty much pulled it off, but when he and Walker left and were barely out of earshot, Walker turned to him with dismay. “What the fuck are you doing, man? Are you out of your mind?”

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

“Well, here it is anyway. She’s a slut and she’s stupid on top of that.”

“I notice you’re not all that picky about the girls you screw.”

“Because they’re nice and they’re clean. She’s disgusting.”

“I don’t want to hear about it, okay?”

“What if you get caught? How can you try pulling this shit right under his nose?”

“They have an open relationship.”

“Oh, right. You believe that, you’re a horse’s ass.” Walker shook his head. “You’re going to regret it, buddy boy. I’m telling you right now, this won’t end well.”

“Thanks. I’m touched by your concern.”

Saturdays belonged to him and the freedom was a relief. Destiny, Creed, and Sky Dancer went off early to the farmer’s market in town and spent the rest of the day in family pursuits. Destiny wanted to learn to tie-dye so she’d gone to Sears and shoplifted half a dozen three-packs of white T-shirts, which she intended to dye in batches and then sell at the beach. Jon was grateful for the long stretch of hours he could call his own. Friday night he slept well, and when he got up he threw on a T-shirt and cutoffs. He made a fresh pot of coffee and carried a cup to his desk. He reread his story about the boy who ran with wild dogs, this time cringing at turns of phrase that before had seemed lyrical. “Soaring” was what he thought to himself when he was crafting sentences. He went through line by line, X-ing out anything clumsy or pretentious. In the end there was maybe half a paragraph worth salvaging. He took Mr. Snow’s advice and tossed the rest of it in the trash.