A big part of my mood swings – at least to my mind, was Rain's dilemma. Part of my brain kept telling me that it wasn't my life and it wasn't my problem. Rain would sort things out and choose her own path. But most of my brain – and all of my heart – kept trying to imagine the anguish she must be going through. A new life, growing inside her, and she was wondering if she was grown up enough for the responsibility that would take.... and remembering her own past, suddenly seeing her childhood from the perspective of the young girl who was her own mother. Or maybe I was just projecting all of Lorraine's baggage and memories of my own childhood. Either way, it filled me with compassion and nearly unbearable sadness knowing that I could never find myself “in trouble” because nature had deprived me of that option. Then I would feel guilty about how much I envied my friend in her anguish.

I was an emotional basket case. Unlike Rain.

“I've decided.” She whispered to me. “I'm going to have her.... but I'm not bringing her up alone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Who's bringing her up with you – and 'her'?”

“Oh, yeah. I can tell. I'm going to call her 'Sunset' – like the boulevard.... or maybe just 'Dusk' ….does that sound more exotic?”

I sidestepped that issue.... “Call her what you want” I smiled. “When she is ready, she will choose her own name...... as we did”

Rain returned my wide smile.

“So, who is going to help you bring her up?”

“Oh. Derek.”

“That producer guy? With the house in the hills who throws all those wild parties?”

“Yeah.”

“He's the dad? And he agreed to this?” He always struck me as a kind of feckless swinger.”

“Well, he could be the dad. No doubt about that. And he's loaded. Look at where he lives. And the parties he throws. They must cost a fortune!”

“All that tells me is that he spends money – not that he has money. And in fact, thinking about how much he spends, I have real doubts about how much he has. ….And he's cool with this?”

“Oh, he will be.” she beamed. “I'm meeting him tonight for dinner.”

“So he doesn't know. ...And you're telling him at a restaurant....” I had a really bad feeling about every aspect of this. “Well, at least it is a public place..... if you need anything... anything... call me. I'll be home all night ….by the phone.” My dread was growing, but I couldn't explain to Rain why I thought this was a very very bad idea.... and a little voice in my head kept saying 'it's her life...it's her choice' ...and against my intuition, I listened to my logical head and not my passionate heart.

I stayed home all night. Watching TV. Waiting by the phone for the call that never came.
Around 11, Rain glided in.

“So?” I asked the moment she shut the door. She glanced around nervously. “Everyone's out” I assured her. Of course they were. It was Thursday night in West Hollywood. There were things to meet, people to do. Rain walked up to me, pokerfaced... then erupted in a radiant smile and hugged me tight.

“He took it well?” I choked out from the bear hug.

“Oh, Olive!” she gushed “It went better than I dared to hope for!” I patted her back warmly, but still couldn't shake my nagging feeling that something wasn't right. Rain did not share my skepticism. “I thought he'd be upset, but all he did was raise his eyebrow just a smidge and purse his lips for a moment when I told him.... then he clapped his hands together and said this was cause for a celebration and ordered champagne,”

“Should you be drinking while you're pregnant?”

“Oh. It's OK. It was really expensive champagne!”

I hid my scowl.

“Derek asked me what my plans were, and I admitted I didn't really have any beyond keeping the baby. I explained that it's not really going to change things. His house in the hills is huge and loaded with guest rooms. Any one of them would make a great nursery. He asked who my doctor was, so I told him about that nice lady at the free clinic, but he said I need a real doctor. He said he knows lots of them so I should just leave it to him. Actually, he was really super about it. He said I should leave everything to him.”

So she did. The next day Derek the film producer called with the name of a doctor for Rain to see. I offered to go with Rain to her appointment, but she knew I was meeting with MY doctors and she didn't want to make me reschedule. When she came back that evening, she said the visit went well. The Doctor examined her, gave her some vitamin shots and a bottle of pills for morning sickness, which he predicted she should be getting shortly. Sure enough, within a few days she wasn't able to hold anything down and started taking the pills. I wasn't so sure they were helping, but Rain said they made her feel better. They just seemed to put her to sleep, but when she woke up, she was just as nauseous. She was pale and sweating and I strongly urged her to check with her doctor, which she promised to do.

That evening when I asked, she said she tried to see her doctor but he checked out.

“Checked out? Of his office?”

“No silly. The hotel. Derek said he was a doctor friend who was in town for a few days and owed him a favor, so I met him at his hotel.”

“So a man you never met who claimed he was a doctor, 'examined' you and gave you shots and a bottle of pills in his hotel room?”

“....When you put it that way.....” Rain laughed nervously. “Oh, Olive, what do you think I should do?”

“Get your coat. We're taking you to the emergency room right now.” I was firm and she didn't protest.

We sat in the waiting area for hours. Two hippies – one trembling and sweating, neither with insurance, we were pretty much bottom of the list as knife wounds and drunk driving victims and bar fighters kept coming in and jumping ahead of us. I remembered that old reporters' saying 'if it bleeds it leads' and realized that all these violent injuries were getting in ahead of us. All Rain had was fever-like sweating and repeated vomiting into bags. They probably figured 'just another strung out druggie'. They did pay attention when Rain doubled over onto the floor with a scream of pain and started hemorrhaging – violently.

Since I was not immediate family, I was not allowed back with her. Finally a doctor came out to me and asked “are you here with Rhonda Vartanian?” I had never heard her actual name and looked at him a bit quizzically.

“She never told me her real name. About my age, sweats, bad cramps... bleeding?”

He nodded. “Are you Olive?” I nodded back.

“Your friend is very very ill. Do you know her next of kin or how to contact them?”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “I'll try to find out. We're all kind of out here... on our own”

He nodded. “Of course.” While he didn't say it, I knew he was thinking 'damned hippies'.

“How is the baby?”

His look told me everything.

“That's the least of her worries right now. Her kidneys have shut down and one by one all her systems are failing. She's young and seems strong, so she may beat this, but we won't know for at least a few days. We're going to move her to intensive care as soon as she's stabilized.”

“Did she tell you about the pills?”

“What pills? She didn't say much of anything, between vomiting and gasping for breath between convulsions. About all she managed to get out was what we finally agreed was Olive... then we figured it might be a proper name and I came out to find you.”

“Her boyfriend set her up with this ….'doctor'.... I nearly spat the word. He gave her some vitamins to take for the baby.”

“Do you have them?”

I shook my head. “I can bring them in”

“Please do that as soon as you can. Ask for Dr Manetti. If I'm not here give them to the ICU duty nurse, I'll leave instructions at the duty station. ….Oh, and if you can.... try not to touch the container with your bare hands.”

I gave him a confused look. Could they be too dangerous to even touch? He saw my confusion.

“Fingerprints. It's a long shot, but something tells me we'll want to know who handled those pills.”

I gulped. “Can I see her?” He shook his head sadly.

“We're inducing a coma. Her convulsions were too severe. Anyway, she'll be out of it until....” he paused “it's over...one way or the other”

The buses had stopped running, so I just sat in the emergency room lobby until nearly sunup and caught an early bus home. I told my housemates about Rain. No one seemed too surprised. She partied hard and never met a drug she wouldn't try, so I guess everyone expected a bad trip or overdose sooner or later.

Max even started jokingly singing 'White Rabbit'. That's when I lost it. I started screaming at them and everything came out... the pregnancy, Derek the slimy producer and his sketchy doctor, the shots, the pills, the convulsions.... Rain flopping like a fish on the hospital floor in a puddle of vomit and blood, and the near admission by the doctor that our friend was probably going to be dead in a day or two.

I felt the innocence of my hippie adventure evaporate like dew off a cactus leaf. I grabbed the bottle of pills and gingerly picking it up by the edges with a napkin, put it in one of Max's fresh baggies. Dr Manetti was not there, so I left it with the nurse on duty at the ICU desk. I noticed her name tag... “Nurse Baldwin. ….Carole? ...my friend came in last night and they took her up here. Doctor Manetti wanted me to bring in the pills she was taking.“

Her face went ashen with recognition. “Vartanian.... you were the one who brought her in?”

I nodded.

“Well, Miss.....”

“Bracco.... Olive Bracco.”

“Miss Bracco..... you just may have saved her life.” Then her face did a thing. “Actually too soon to tell..... but if you didn't get her in here when you did......” she kind of lowered her eyes.

“Can I see her?”

Nurse Baldwin smiled sadly. “Sorry. She's in dialysis right now... and anyway... only immediate family are allowed in ICU.”

I had a thought. “Is step-sister immediate family?” She nodded. I was thinking as I went here, and I'm pretty sure she could tell. “....we have different dads....” Not a lie. Nurse Baldwin smiled.

“That would explain the different last names.” She grinned.

“Yes. Yes it would. I mean does.” I smiled back sheepishly.

“OK. Let me put you on the visitors list. Does she have any other …..family?”

I shook my head sadly. “Not out here. Just me.”

The nurse smiled warmly and squeezed my forearm. “She's lucky to have you.” She looked at her clipboard. “She should be out of dialysis by 4. You're on the list now, so you can come by. But be warned she won't....”

“Dr Manetti said something about medically induced coma....” I interjected

She nodded. “Until they can find out what's causing those convulsions.”

“....still....” the words kind of caught in my throat. “....I'd just like to sit with her for a bit.... she's my....” I was about to say 'friend' but nurse Baldwin finished my sentence as she looked me in the eye.

“....Sister....”

I realized after all we'd been through how much more …appropriate... that word was than 'friend'. I nodded as I felt my breath catch and I knew I was about to lose it, so I forced a smile and broke away, rushing to the ladies room.

Once I felt I had things back under control, I kiddingly cursed Dr Kendrick and his hormone shots, cleaned my face up and went back to the nurses station to thank and apologize to nurse Baldwin, who was gracious and professional about my little outburst. I marveled at how she could deal with this stuff day in and day out, and felt unspeakably thankful that there were people like her who chose this difficult and sorely needed profession.

It was touch and go for days, and I was running on stress and adrenaline but no sleep. Rain survived, though it was a really tense week, and her recovery took ages. Her health was fragile for a long long time, but her state of mind had me most worried. Losing the baby. Nearly dying herself. And her betrayal by that bastard movie producer Derek. It was determined that the 'vitamins' were animal tranquilizers, steroids and rat poison, but Derek managed to weasel out of it claiming it was the word of a respected film producer against a crazy drugged out hippie. No one could find the doctor and the only prints on the bottle were Rains. They covered their tracks and got away with it. We all seethed, but Rain just moved on with her life. I may have been angrier than she was. I figured she just didn't have the strength for it. I wanted to pay some Hell's Angels to break every bone in his body. They all knew and liked Rain and probably would have done it for free. But she stopped me. Max suggested that with all his wild parties, his fancy house might just burn down one of these days. Rain just shook her head. She seemed convinced that Derek would get his someday and that we should have nothing to do with him. Sure enough, an anonymous tip got him busted with two very strung-out 15 year olds in some scandalous circumstances. Apparently the casting couch was too mundane for him, so he had his own dungeon.

This brought Rain little pleasure. She just expressed relief that he would never hurt anyone again. The episode with the baby and the near-death experience changed her. Her carefree spirit was gone, but in its place there was an eerie calm. She drifted away from our group and fell in with a group centered around Transcendental Meditation and Macrobiotics. We remained friends, though we were no longer close since we traveled in different circles now. But the Meditation and Macrobiotic people “the M&Ms” I would teasingly call them, seemed to help her find peace and a path for herself, so I was happy for her.

As for me, I kept going to the clinic doing the 'lab rabbit' thing, though once Dr Kendrick joked that I was getting so curvy that 'lab BUNNY' was more like it. Fortunately Dr O'Brien shut him down before I could even respond. I think she scared him so much with talk of inappropriate behavior and bringing him up before professional review boards that he became contrite instantly. Something told me this wasn't the first time he said or did something inappropriate. Or got in trouble for it.

One side benefit of the 'treatments' and their positive effects on my appearance was that it was a lot easier to get work. This is L.A. Here more than anywhere, beauty is currency, and I found myself with a bit more in the bank. Places that wouldn't even consider me to bus tables or wash dishes were suddenly offering me waitressing jobs. One place still had 'cigarette girls', and the owner, Maury, a sweet but ancient guy kept telling me I was just the thing he needed to 'liven the place up'. Actually, what he needed was customers who were born in this century, but I never had the heart to tell him.

The waitressing jobs helped me pay my way, but I had about as much interest in a career in food service as any of the other girls – most of whom were aspiring actresses or singers or just wanted to marry up and become famous for being famous – like Zsa Zsa Gabor. ...Or any number of reality TV stars a generation later.

I had no dreams of fame or fortune. But I did have my own passions. It was a ragtag little non profit called “Fine Lives Pet Placement”, that found homes for pets. Maria, who started it with her friend Steve, was an elder-care worker, and she became increasingly distraught at the plight of former pets when one of her old folks passed away. They were almost always taken to the pound and ended up being euthanized. When we met at a party and she told me her story, I was immediately overwhelmed at the tragedy of animal companions who gave such comfort to their elderly owners being brusquely disposed of like so much refuse after their owners demise. It struck me as far beyond inhumane... and I asked what I could do to help.

As it turned out, I ended up doing more than I ever imagined. I felt such a bond to these animals, who had everything in their worlds ripped away from them. They lost their human caretaker, they lost their home and everything familiar to them, and in short order they would lose their lives. Their trauma and despair was instantly apparent to me. I was shocked that others couldn't grasp it.

One of the things I did, was become an advocate for these tragic animals. I found it fairly easy to articulate their plight to others, and the adoption rate for these bereft pets skyrocketed.

The other thing I did was to bond with the pets themselves. They were like little refugees, bewildered and shaken to their core by all the upheaval in their lives. The funny thing is, I didn't consciously do anything. I just spent time with them. Getting to know them... their personalities... and responding to them in the manner that best suited their nature. It was a slow, subtle process, but it worked every time. The time they spent with us before they were ready to be placed with new families was a kind of 'halfway house' where they could transition and acclimate to their new lives.

We had some serious emotional wrecks. Like Lucy, an older Tiger Cat who would hide from everybody, that I drew out by conspicuously ignoring. I think she began to get really miffed that she was being snubbed and got more and more in my face until one day as I feigned a nap in a beanbag chair, she got literally in my face. All it took was one slightly opened eye and some soft soothing words and she plopped herself down on my chest, slowly waving her tail and staring at me. A light scratch behind the ear, and I knew from the way she leaned in to my hand that I had won her over. Shortly she was purring and kneading her claws through my peasant blouse... which hurt like hell, but I wasn't going to ruin the moment. We made a breakthrough so I toughed it out. Within a week, she was comfortable with other people, and not long after that, even friendly to strangers. It didn't take long to find her a great home with a middle aged studio musician who lived alone. He absolutely cherished her. Which she clearly recognized and approved.

Most of our refuge pets were cats and dogs of the recently deceased. Occasionally we got birds, or the odd other creature, and even more rarely we got a walk-in. Like Kesey.

“Interesting name for a Bull Terrier.” I said to the scraggly young man who brought her in.

“Yeah.....” he fidgeted and scratched his neck “....well we originally called him Cassady...”

“Like Neal.” I nodded.

“Yeah... but everyone thought 'like David'....” he cast his eyes down to his shoes “...or even worse...”

“...Like JACK!” I couldn't suppress my laugh.

The wiry guy smirked guiltily. “Yeah. I wouldn't do that to a dog.” He lifted his head just enough to make tentative eye contact. I wasn't sure who was more skittish, the guy or the dog. It didn't even matter. They both really needed the same thing, so I smiled as warmly as I could.

“So tell me about Kesey. How did you two find each other? And what's causing you to part?”

His eyes locked at the floor again, and he thrust his hands into his pockets as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I'm... a musician... I had hooked up with some guys and we were playing a dive in Bakersfield. We played there a week and slept in our van. He wouldn't even let us sleep in one of the rooms over the club. I think now those rooms were where his real business was. Well, we did the week, sleeping in our van. When the week was up, the guy stiffs us, saying we misled him. Said he wanted a cover band and we played all our own stuff, so he wasn't going to pay us. He NEVER said anything about covers... not that we would anyway... well, maybe Kinks or Yardbirds or Them... but not Monkees and Fifth Dimension and stuff he says he hired us to do. A bunch of the guys got really pissed and started toward him, then he grabs a pipe and opens this cage and this ….THING tears out, and he yells at the dog to tear us to shreds. So we all run to the Van. Gary got there first and jumped behind the wheel, firing it up and ready to peel out as soon as we reach it. We whipped the back doors open and were jumping in as Gary's pulling out. Nick had to reach out and pull me in, the van was picking up speed. But the damn dog keeps ...coming! We whip around the corner and even though Gary has it floored, we're not speeding up fast enough,,, the doors are flapping open behind us and the dog is running like hell... catching up to us... and suddenly... LEAPS into the back of the van! 'Oh shit” we think. But the dog just glances at us and burrows under a pile of clothes.... we looked at each other and decided we wanted to get away from the owner... forget the dog. We finally got the doors shut and were out on the freeway headed for the coast. We were pissed off about getting screwed, but couldn't stop laughing about our crazy getaway and how much worse it COULD have gone, and each of us is telling his version of the story and everyone's laughing, then I see this stirring and see the eye peering out from under the pile of clothes. It doesn't take long to realize this nasty looking dog is even more scared of us than we are of him. He won't come out, and none of us are going to tear into the pile to get him out. When we stop for gas, I get some jerky and sit next to the pile, noisily eating and making all these 'mmmnnn mmmnnn' happy sounds, and smacking my lips until finally I see the eye again. I talk to the pile real friendly like, saying 'oh, man this jerky is soooo good' and making all these drool-y sounds, then I make a big show of tearing off a piece and pointing it down near where I saw the eye. After I did it, I thought I probably should have thought it was a bad idea and he could snap my whole damn hand off in those jaws... but I didn't think of that and this snout kind of peeks out and hesitantly takes the piece of jerky from my fingers and disappears again. I keep making 'mmnn mmnn' sounds and the face pokes out again, but this time I hold my hand a little further away. Well this goes on for a while as I slowly draw him out. Meanwhile the guys are laughing quietly, watching this ...as they press up against the other side of the van. They were not getting any closer to that dog than they had to. Well, soon enough we clicked. He ditched his hiding pile and laid down by my feet. Pretty soon it was clear he was MY dog now. The band said I fed him, so I was stuck with him. The band broke up soon after, but Kesey and I were a team. But, I'm a musician and have a hard enough time feeding myself, let alone him...”

“Her actually” I observed.

“Yeah. I noticed. Still, he ….vibes... 'him' so that's what I call him.”

“Your dog. Your business.” I shrugged.

“Yeah.... about that.... I guess he is my dog now.... but....”

“You don't think you can take care of him”

He nodded.

“You think he deserves better”

He nodded again

“You don't have a very high opinion of yourself”

He began to nod then caught himself “Hey, I resent that.”

“Bruised ego. A promising sign.” I smiled. He betrayed just the slightest grin. “So, why are you breaking up this …beautiful friendship?” I smiled, thinking of Casablanca. And immediately I knew he got it too.

“It's just.... he's great... but.... it feels... it feels like having ….having a kid”

“Responsibility” I nodded, putting on my stern face. He nodded back in agreement. Seeming relieved that 'I understood'. “Like having a kid....” another nod “....only no worry about providing a stable homelife, 3 square meals, carting him off to school, or picking him up after swim meets, no saving up for college, making sure he doesn't fall in with the wrong crowd.....”

“OK” he smiled “...not really at ALL like having a kid.”

I nodded back.

“But still. It's awkward. He can't always come with me. Like if I have a gig....”

“Oh? Where are you playing? Who with? Have I heard you?”

He shuffled a bit. “Actually, since the Watchmen broke up ….um my old band? I mentioned....”

I nodded

“...um yeah. Since then I've kind of …soloed.....”

“...Busking...”

He cast his eyes to the floor. “Um. Yeah. And Kesey comes with me of course. He lays down beside the hat. And he's usually pretty cool, but sometimes... well, there's people you meet on the street and they make you ….kinda...”

“Skittish?”

“Yeah. And I just get super watchful. But Kesey... he sort of.... flinches.... and gets all tense.... and”

“People freak out.”

He nodded. “And they leave. Fast. So suddenly I have my guitar and my dog and my empty hat and no crowd.”

“Bummer.” I nod sympathetically.

“Yeah. So I think I've gotta....”

“You need to work on that flinching thing.”

“Well, I actually thought.....”

“I know what you were thinking, but if Kesey stopped freaking people out with that flinching thing... if he would just stay mellow and lay by the hat.... would that..”

“Well... yeah... I guess if he stopped doing that whole....”

“Ready to attack thing?”

He let out a big puff of air. “Yeah. That's really what it is. You finally called it what it is.”

“Do you think he would attack?”

“Kesey? Hell, NO! He's way more freaked out by people than they are of him”

“Only nobody knows that but you.”

“And HIM.”

“And him” I smiled

“And you, I think. Oh shit. What kind of an... I'm sorry. I'm Colin...”

“Colin” I smiled and met his awkward, self conscious handshake.

“....Logue.”

“Colin Logue. Colin AND Kesey Logue” I smiled, and the moment I said it, I saw his acceptance and knew these two weren't splitting up. “Pleased to meet you both. I'm Olive. Olive Bracco”