He made it to the door; I knew that much. I watched him disappear through it.

“I bought some acid,” he said. “From some guy in the back.”

“You really shouldn’t cop acid from strangers, Steven.” I lit a cigarette. “It’s kind of a rule.” Steven was staring at the red fire at the end of my smoke. “Anyway, if you wanted to get high, why didn’t you say so? Greg brought some mushrooms. We all took some.” I thought for a minute, then said, “If you want some, I’ll get you some. Just don’t take the acid. Throw it away. It could be anything.”

I don’t know if Steven threw it away, or put it in his pocket, or ate it anyway, because I veered through the maze of seated bodies and found Greg and the mushrooms. I got back to the other guys and gave them to Steven.

“Chew as little as possible, drink some of this water, and think good thoughts,” I said.

“Now just lay back and dig the music.”

But Steven wouldn’t lay back. The muscles under his face tensed into a stiff, sardonic smile. His dancing, never too rhythmic, lost all sense of time. He talked to the stars, literally, cupping his ear toward the sky as he strained to catch the answers to whatever questions he had been mouthing.

“What are you hearing, Steven?”

“Oh, oh,” he said, and then, “I see. Yes.”

“What do you see?” I felt as if I were talking to him through an ear trumpet. “What’s going on ?”

He clapped his hands together sharply, then peeled his palms apart and stared at his fingertips. There was nothing there, of course. “It’s all ... it’s ... all in the way ...” He held his palms toward me. “In the way ... it’s all in the way ... you look at it ... you look at it. You’re the one with the answers, Drew ... you’re the one ... tell me the answer ... tell it.”

“I don;t have any answers, man.”

“You ...do ... you ... do ... you ... do.” Steven's words were coming from his mouth in a breathy chant. He grabbed me by the biceps. His hands were shaking, and strong.

People on the adjacent blankets watched with interest. I pried my arms free of his grip.

“Just relax, Steven. Relax and breathe.”

I could see him in there somewhere, behind those porcelain eyes, trying to weather the blizzard of input that was pelting him.

“Relax and breathe and relax and breathe and...” He used an entire exhalation on each word. “You relax and do have breathe answers...”

He looked at me with an expression of wonderment that gave me the willies. His head was skewed to one side. His eyes were roundly open, and focused a bit forward. I looked into his left eye, and then his right. I couldn’t connect with either of them.

After the concert was over, we took him back to his mother’s house. What else could we do? He seemed a little better by that time, so we told him to go in and head straight to his bed. We told him not to talk to his brother or his mom, and not to answer any questions. We told him he was OK, and to sleep with the lights on. One of us remembered to tell him to drink orange juice, and to gobble vitamin C if his mom had any.

He made it to the door; I knew that much. I watched him disappear through it.