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"You broke up," he huffs. "You're in love with a man you aren't even with and haven't seen in years." He shakes his head, anger and pity in his eyes. "I'm heading to Santa Cruz with them. Come with or don't, I don't even fucking care anymore." He stomps over, sand kicking over my feet in the process.
I watch everyone, feeling like this is a turning point in my life. I'm at a crossroads, and I can either leave this group I've been with for three years, or I can turn around and go back to the life I left behind. Who knows what is waiting for me, what I might walk into. That thought alone makes me pause, fear clutching my throat in a strong grip.
"Luna, come on! We're leaving!" Trish waves me over, a bright smile on her face. She's excited to move on, our time here coming to an end. Maybe that's what took me so long today. I knew I'd be leaving here soon, and I needed one last glance at the beach, at the water in southern California.
I don't know why, but for some reason, this feels like the last time I'll ever be here.
"You coming?" she asks again.
I bite my lips, my heart racing. I don't have enough time to think of what I want to do. I want to sit down, weigh the pros and cons, but I don't have the time.
It's now or never.
"Coming," I say, mostly to myself. I lift my skirt, the edges damp from the water, and walk off to my friends and the Deadheads. With every step I take, I question whether I’m making the right decision or not.
Only time will tell.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
LUNA
The ride to Santa Cruz is long and cramped. Hours upon hours of watching the coast fly by as we head north. Marijuana fills the car, and it reminds me of home so much that I close my eyes, leaning my head against the cracked fabric seat that smells like smoke, and listening as they play The Grateful Dead on repeat.
Crow and Danae are married and are somewhere in their mid-thirties. They've been traveling the coast for ten years, and before that bounced around from state to state, always ending back in California. They attend a lot of festivals and rainbow gatherings. I wasn't sure what that was, but I'm glad it was Trish who asked.
"What's a rainbow gathering?" she asks, her face screwed up in confusion.
Danae turns around, laughter in her dark eyes. Both Danae and Crow have dreadlocks, although I think they are more from lack of a comb or brush than anything else. Danae has her messy brown hair in a bun at the back of her head, a scrap of fabric holding it up.
"A rainbow gathering is like a peace circle. A lot of people come from all over the country to celebrate with us."
"Celebrate what?" I ask.
"Life," she shrugs, like it's the simplest answer in the world. "We pray for peace in the world."
“Just a ton of people that are looking for the same things in life,” Crow mumbles.
"It kind of sounds like a cult. Is it a cult?” Neil asks, and silence in the car ensues.
"We aren't a cult." Is all Danae responds with.
The rest of the drive is silent besides the music. We drive up the coast, and I watch the landscape turn from flat to mountainous. It's beautiful, and I stick my face against the window like a child.
We eventually turn off the highway, heading toward the trees and into the mountains. The road turns bumpy, and Crow's van knocks from side to side with every rock and hole in the earth. I bump shoulders with Willie, who hasn't spoken with me since the beach. He's spoken with everyone else, laughing and joking. The minute I interject something into the conversation, his face drops, and he acts like I don't even exist.
We come to a point on the road where cars are lined up on the side. The ground dips off the side of the dirt road, and the way the cars are parked make it look like they're tipped sideways. Crow continues driving past them, past car after car after car. He drives to the front, parking near a clearing. My eyes widen at the sight in front of me.
Hundreds, and I mean hundreds of people sit in a large clearing. Small groups of people, people sitting alone, and huge groups of people make up the entire circle. The entire clearing. People with colorful clothing, topless women, and people of all ages fill the crowd. Smoke streams into the air, and taking a whiff, I feel comfort when I realize it smells like home.
More Marijuana.
"Here's home," Crow says, turning the ignition off on the car.
I look at my friends, although only Neil and Trish look back at me.
"You live here?" Neil asks.
Crow nods as he opens the door. "A lot of us do. Some travel and come back. A lot of people stay short-term, long-term, doesn't matter. This is home."
