Painted Black by Greg Kihn

ran after him. When she caught him, they stripped their clothes off and made love behind some bushes.
    Bobby wandered through the trees listening to the forest whisper to him. The acid peaked at some time around three in the morning. The effect was overwhelming. Bobby hung on to his sanity like a drunk hugging the floor as the room spun around him.
    He lay on his back, watching the stars until the sun came up. At some point, he too had shed his clothes, but unlike Clovis, he had managed to put them back on again when he got cold. Except he’d lost his socks, shoes, and underwear, and his shirt was buttoned wrong. His knees and feet were muddy, and there were leaves in his hair.
    Clovis appeared next to him with a handful of wild blackberries he had picked.
    â€œTry one. They are the best blackberries you’ll ever eat.”
    Bobby put one in his mouth and chewed. The sweet berry burst with flavor like an explosion. It completely rejuvenated him and hydrated his parched mouth. Bobby sat on the lawn eating berries with Clovis, grinning like a maniac.
    â€œWhere’s Erlene?”
    â€œShe went to find out where we are.”
    â€œMaybe she’d be better off finding out who we are.”
    Clovis laughed. “Oh, I know who I am. I’m Clovis Hicks and I play the guitar. Sometimes I play the fool. Who are you?”
    Bobby thought for a moment. Who was he?
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t remember.”
    â€œWhen you finally figure out who you are and what you’re doing, you can turn the corner on this thing.”
    â€œOn what thing? Why is everything so strange?”
    Clovis put his hand on Bobby’s shoulder.
    â€œYou’re Dust Bin Bob, aka Bobby Dingle from Liverpool. You took a drug called LSD at Brian Jones’s house and you’re on a trip.”
    â€œI am?” Bobby blinked. He couldn’t stop smiling.
    â€œThat’s about the gist of it, pardner.”
    â€œAm I always going to be like this?” Bobby said.
    Clovis’s voice was reassuring.
    â€œNah, it’s already starting to wear off. You’ll be fine in a couple of hours.”
    â€œThank God.”
    Erlene returned. She looked surprisingly clean and fresh.
    â€œI found a gas station and washed up in the restroom.”
    Clovis looked at Bobby. Bobby translated.
    â€œShe means she found a petrol pump and washed up in the loo.”
    Erlene held up a greasy white bag of food.
    â€œI found an all-night fish and chips shop and I had some money in my pocket, so I bought you guys some breakfast.”
    She handed the food to Clovis and Bobby, and they ate ravenously.
    Erlene looked around. The sun was up now.
    â€œWe’re gonna have to walk home. We better get started.”
    â€œHome? Oh my God! Cricket! I promised I’d be home.”
    The unlikely trio trudged through early morning traffic. Bobby and Clovis were barefoot. After a few minutes, Bobby developed several large blisters on the bottom of his feet and walking became difficult. He wound up hobbling through the streets of London.
    It took most of the day to find their way back to Bobby’s apartment. He opened the front door and shouted Cricket’s name even though he knew she was gone. His clothes were disheveled and filthy, his feet were black with dirt. He had a wild look in his eye, and his hair looked like he’d slept on the ground.
    There was a note tacked to the inside of the door. Bobby snatched it and read.
    I hope you’re all right and nothing bad happened to you, so I can kill you later. How could you? You promised you’d be home to say good-bye.
    â€”C
    PS Here’s a dime. Call me when you grow up!
    A shiny American dime was taped to the paper. Bobby looked down at his dirty clothes and black feet like he was discovering them for the first time. He rubbed the shiny new dime between his fingers and felt bleak. It would cost a lot more than a dime to call her now. He looked at the