Thursday, January 05, 2006

From Patrick Lewis' Journal

September 24, 1991

I went to the beach today. I owed it to Lisa. It was three years ago today. Mom and Dad offered to go with me, but I said no. But Jason was there. I knew he would be.

He's not doing the Dark Lord gig anymore. He says he hasn't since that year. We talked about college. I told him I actually like plants now. Go figure.

He's working as an assistant in Hollywood to some big agent. Dines on caviar and helps work mega million deals. He says he picks up clients that way, so I guess he's still doing the healer trick. He's on the fast track with the druids, too. In line to be the next Draig.

I knew his dad was sick. Mom and Dad told me. But I didn't realize he was going to give up as Draig-Athar. Jason's going to be the Draig-Teine. Fire dragon suits him, and he was really excited about it.

He said he was sorry about Lisa, that he thinks about her a lot, that everything was out of control that year. It's better now, he says. And he's going to be the Draig-Teine, so life is good for him.

I said okay. Lisa wouldn't want me to hate him. What happened was just one of those things. It wasn't anybody's fault. The police ruled it accidental right away.

All those things I imagined before were just grief. I see that now. Crazy teenage stuff plus grief. It was an accident, a terrible, horrible accident. And Lisa wouldn't want me to hate anybody anyway. Especially not the guy who used to be my best friend.

I think I'm going to try surfing tomorrow.


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