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Another Epilogue before/after As for what happened to Kiara, I can only guess. She was the object of my first road trip. I took my best friend, told my parents I was going to the beach, and promptly lit out in exactly the opposite direction. It was fun. She lived near a hick hamlet called 'Elwell'. If one sits still enough in one spot in Elwell for long enough, one could swear to hear the sound of 'dueling banjo's' echo acrossed the hilly terrain. She was surprised and happy to see me. Cute girl, really must have been surprised and happy to see any variation in her daily routine. She weaved baskets at the corner store a mile from her house. Her father was a farmer, and he lurked in the feilds as I fondled his daughter, who gave me one of the most hurtful cases of blue-ball in my life. Mmmm. She had a sexy bod. I came back two more times. The second time, I had a lot of weed, or so I thought at that age, and we smoked furiously on our way there. I turned off in a small non-descript town. Deciding to take the main route after all, I drove onto someone's lawn after blowing a stop-sign, and proceeded to have a laughing fit. I could've used a driveway. Or a street. I opted for the front-lawn turn around, running a burn on a local for no real reason other than my own amusement, and in the middle of it, was struck with such a laughing jag that I could no longer drive. After wiping the tears away, we fled and made our way to 'Elwell'. The second time we went to Crystal Lake with one of her friends. Crystal Lake was a part of my beach tour in college one summer, which is another long story in itself. Crystal Lake is a pristine blue lake with a white sand beach. Her friend, Trista, or something was cute, and my friend drooled over her visciously but got no play. Crystal Lake is beautiful. Kiara showed me where she would come to swim often by herself. I, of course, got another case of blue balls, but rationalized it from the perspective that at least I was messing around. At one point, as the sun was high, my best friend Mike was putting things in the trunk, and he slammed the trunk shut, dusting his hands off. "You didn't just close that," I said. He looked at me quizzically. "Why?" he asked. "Because I set my keys in there five minutes ago." I said, making my eyes wide, letting the implication sink into his skull that we were about a hundred miles away from where we told our 'rents we were, fucked out of the car, and having no recourse. We were sixteen. He grew pale and started shaking, making no sense and sputtering. I grew concerned, and laughed, as I told him where the spare was hid. He didn't see the humor in it as I did. Anyway, I made out with Kiara some more, and she took us to a place where she thought pot grew. Not knowing really what to look for, we grabbed what we thought were immature plants and stashed them in a paper bag. (Later on we tried drying them in the microwave and smoking them, to no avail. Still not sure if it was tea or not.) We went back to her place, and I said goodbye, just having the sense that she wasn't right for me right now. We made out, until I begged off. It felt like my balls were going to explode. Great girl, really. Just not right now. Years later in college, while I was doing the beach tour, searching for The Good and The Beautiful as a way to achieve finer moral definition I found myself again at Crystal Lake. In those days I would make a sandwich and pack some sodas, roll up about two or more fat hogs, and go and lose myself for the day, cruising around tanned, half naked in jean shorts, sandals and nothing else, disheveled hair growing longer by the day, and usually a half-pint to a pint of Jack Daniels stashed in my back pocket or somewhere in the 89 blue mustang LX that I was driving. I would drive by instinct and caprice, smoking my mind away until I couldn't think. Until my thoughts could not disturb me, the messes waiting back home were silent, my psychotic roomates voice no longer resounded with tales of his latest homicidal fantasy, and all I thought of was driving...and the Good and The Beautiful. I would roam far and wide looking for vistas to veiw, and would break usually mid-day, not having spoken a word to anyone, let alone myself, and find a place to relax. Sometimes...many times...the Good and the Beautiful lay there. It took me awhile to realize that the Good and the Beautiful are everywhere, it just takes the right eyes to see it. And I found myself sunning on Crystal Lake beach, living like a lizard, high, enjoying the heat and the sand, the cool refreshing swims. And I thought of Kiara. I realized where I was. And I remembered what she said, where she liked to swim at the end of the day, as the sun starts to set. She said she would swim way out, and try to lose the thought, the cares of the day she had. I found the spot. As it was late afternoon, and I had the munch, I went to a local cafe and had something to eat. Luckily, I had an old shirt in the car. I smoked some more pot, and time passed. As the sun sank low, I clambored over to her spot. The water was golden with the reflection of the light. I climbed over the rocks, to the one where she said she always swam way out into the lake. It was quiet. It was pristine. Way out in the water, I saw Kiara. She had swam to the middle of the lake. I sat and watched for awhile, as the sunset made a lake of fire of the scene. She waved, and I waved back. Did she know it was me. I can't say. As I sat and reflected, watching this beautiful girl, feeling the anticipation, it occurred to me that it would never get any better than this. It would never be this good again. And so, as she approached the shore, just inside vocal range, I left. Walked up to my car on the bank. Took a long last look at the sunset. Fired up another dubee, and drove out to the twisting road, never looking back. And feeling strangely satisfied. I've never been back. I don't know what happened to her in the end.
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