It was 7:00 p.m., a couple of hours after Rey had called Kent to request a spontaneous “catch up get-together”. Seated on a rough concrete slab at the edge of a stony, weed-lined lot near Maui Nights, a nightclub that catered to a young dance crowd, I sipped black coffee from a Styrofoam cup while Rey sucked back Red Bull and Linda slurped a strawberry-apple smoothie.
Kent dropped onto a slab alongside. “Howzit?” He messed my loose hair.
I felt like a pet lab. “Woof.”
He grabbed the cup and took a swallow. “Yow! Where"d you get this? The corner dive?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Stick to the fries and onion rings,” he winced and, pulling out a package of spearmint gum, hastily jammed two pieces into his mouth. “That"s high-octane s**t, man.”
“What"s with the headgear?” Rey motioned
