illegal. The cowboy booked bets on all sporting events and was a regular face at poker sessions and crap games in the city. He was also involved in other business deals, but hc spoke little of those affairs, explaining that they were "private propositions."
Sun Girl and Julian made the rounds of casting offices during the day, and in the evening, after his appointments were complete, and the tallies computed, she and Orient would spend long lazy hours just talking. Their conversations were sometimes profound, often silly, but always a source of joy for him, as his communication with Sun Girl grew into real friendship. Orient enjoyed her independent point of view and blithe self-confidence; she was a completely positive, honest, and reasonable woman who never let her capacity for sentiment and passion upset her thinking.
It was for this reason that Orient was curious when Sun Girl came home early one day, in a state of abject depression. "Why the gloom, lose an audition?" he asked, looking up from his work. "I just don’t understand life , Owen," Sun Girl sighed. She plopped down wearily on the couch and stared at him.
"In what way?" He went back to his accounting.
Sun Girl sighed again. "Oh, I ran into an old girl friend of mine on the street today. And she looks awful. When I tried to talk to her she started raving about something. I got the funniest feeling. Do you think you could drop around to see her? I told her a little about you."
Orient crossed out some figures he had added incorrectly. "Is she sick?"
"Betsy is a bad lady," Julian singsonged as he pushed a toy truck across the floor.
"Maybe she’s sick," Sun Girl mused. "But I think it’s something else. Too much acid or speed, maybe. Whatever she’s on, it’s a bum trip. The poor girl’s practically frothing at the mouth. And she must have lost twenty pounds."
"She’s bad," Julian repeated.
"Now don’t say things about people you don’t know, Julian," Sun Girl admonished. "I’ve known Betsy for years and she’s always been sweet and level-headed." She looked at Orient. "A couple of months ago she started living with some kids in a commune down here. Maybe they’re some kind of bad influence on her. She looks completely spaced out. Half crazy, in fact."
Orient put aside his tabulations and looked at her. Sun Girl’s usually bright, cheerful expression was pinched with concern.
"I’ll go have a talk with her if you think it will do any good."
Sun Girl’s anxious flown relaxed. "Thanks, Owen," she said softly. "The commune’s not far away. Why don’t we walk over there and you can judge for yourself. Perhaps I’m getting myself all worked up over nothing. Even possible that I’m becoming a busybody in my old age."
Orient smiled. "Who knows, you might be becoming an arch-conservative."
"Me too," Julian said. "I want to be an artist conserber too."
When Orient, Sun Gift, and Julian arrived at the headquarters of the commune, however, it was obvious that Sun Gift’s appraisal had been accurate. The storefront itself was like hundreds of others in the city that had been converted for occupancy. The glass door and show windows had been painted over to prevent passersby from seeing inside. When Sun Girl knocked on the door, it was opened by a thin, blond-bearded boy wearing a Japanese robe. He looked angry.
"Yeah, what is it?" he grunted, glaring at them.
"We’re looking for Betsy," Sun Gift said.
The boy closed the door in her face.
"Must be a love child," Orient said.
"That’s what I mean, Owen," Sun Gift said. "Usually commune people are very friendly and very hospitable."
Orient’s comment was interrupted by the door opening. He looked down and saw a very skinny, almost emaciated young girl wearing a dirty white dress. Her long black hair was tangled and unkempt, and there were hollow blue circles around her eyes. But despite the fact that she looked starved, the gift
Sun Girl and Julian made the rounds of casting offices during the day, and in the evening, after his appointments were complete, and the tallies computed, she and Orient would spend long lazy hours just talking. Their conversations were sometimes profound, often silly, but always a source of joy for him, as his communication with Sun Girl grew into real friendship. Orient enjoyed her independent point of view and blithe self-confidence; she was a completely positive, honest, and reasonable woman who never let her capacity for sentiment and passion upset her thinking.
It was for this reason that Orient was curious when Sun Girl came home early one day, in a state of abject depression. "Why the gloom, lose an audition?" he asked, looking up from his work. "I just don’t understand life , Owen," Sun Girl sighed. She plopped down wearily on the couch and stared at him.
"In what way?" He went back to his accounting.
Sun Girl sighed again. "Oh, I ran into an old girl friend of mine on the street today. And she looks awful. When I tried to talk to her she started raving about something. I got the funniest feeling. Do you think you could drop around to see her? I told her a little about you."
Orient crossed out some figures he had added incorrectly. "Is she sick?"
"Betsy is a bad lady," Julian singsonged as he pushed a toy truck across the floor.
"Maybe she’s sick," Sun Girl mused. "But I think it’s something else. Too much acid or speed, maybe. Whatever she’s on, it’s a bum trip. The poor girl’s practically frothing at the mouth. And she must have lost twenty pounds."
"She’s bad," Julian repeated.
"Now don’t say things about people you don’t know, Julian," Sun Girl admonished. "I’ve known Betsy for years and she’s always been sweet and level-headed." She looked at Orient. "A couple of months ago she started living with some kids in a commune down here. Maybe they’re some kind of bad influence on her. She looks completely spaced out. Half crazy, in fact."
Orient put aside his tabulations and looked at her. Sun Girl’s usually bright, cheerful expression was pinched with concern.
"I’ll go have a talk with her if you think it will do any good."
Sun Girl’s anxious flown relaxed. "Thanks, Owen," she said softly. "The commune’s not far away. Why don’t we walk over there and you can judge for yourself. Perhaps I’m getting myself all worked up over nothing. Even possible that I’m becoming a busybody in my old age."
Orient smiled. "Who knows, you might be becoming an arch-conservative."
"Me too," Julian said. "I want to be an artist conserber too."
When Orient, Sun Gift, and Julian arrived at the headquarters of the commune, however, it was obvious that Sun Gift’s appraisal had been accurate. The storefront itself was like hundreds of others in the city that had been converted for occupancy. The glass door and show windows had been painted over to prevent passersby from seeing inside. When Sun Girl knocked on the door, it was opened by a thin, blond-bearded boy wearing a Japanese robe. He looked angry.
"Yeah, what is it?" he grunted, glaring at them.
"We’re looking for Betsy," Sun Gift said.
The boy closed the door in her face.
"Must be a love child," Orient said.
"That’s what I mean, Owen," Sun Gift said. "Usually commune people are very friendly and very hospitable."
Orient’s comment was interrupted by the door opening. He looked down and saw a very skinny, almost emaciated young girl wearing a dirty white dress. Her long black hair was tangled and unkempt, and there were hollow blue circles around her eyes. But despite the fact that she looked starved, the gift
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