Later, as we drove the hell out of Missouri, we saw huge fields full of tall, healthy hemp plants, usually in busy areas like freeway interchanges where presumably no one would stop. We weren't about to. At $1,250 and counting, we'd already bought all the justice we could afford for one trip.
Unbeknownst to us, back in Kansas, the great William S. Burroughs was breathing his final breaths. Raoul and I were trying to imagine how Burroughs or Hunter S. would have handled the situation. It was good to be back on the road.
© 1997,98 Henry Kingman