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across the field.” Helping me never, ever get over him.
    â€œWell, it starts out with helping. There’s a reason he’s hanging around you still, you know,” Anna says confidently.
    I don’t want to believe it, but I’d be lying if I said that a traitorous part of my stomach doesn’t do a little flip when Anna says that.
    â€œTIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME.” Someone is bellowing. “WHAT HAPPENED TO TIME?!”
    A moment later, three guys have practically fallen into our tent, the two on the ends hoisting up the one in the middle—I soon realize he’s the one yelling.
    â€œIt’s fallen through my hands like a sieve. A SIEVE,” he practically screams in Anna’s ear.
    â€œWhoa. Okay, first of all: INDOOR VOICE, YOUNG MAN.” Anna is just as loud as the guy, and his eyes get saucer-wide at the sound of it. I suddenly recognize him as Peach Fuzz from the day before. In fact, I think I saw him making out with his blond girlfriend on my way over here.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Peach Fuzz whispers.
    â€œWhat’s your name?” Anna asks.
    â€œMichael,” he whispers.
    â€œAnd what did you take?”
    Michael just shakes his head and presses his lips against each other hard. His eyes remain huge and dilated. I don’t think he has blinked once.
    Anna turns to Michael’s two companions. “It’s all right. He won’t get in trouble. I just need to know so we can help him.”
    â€œAcid,” the taller kid says.
    â€œWhat color?” Anna asks.
    Both of them think about this for a moment. “I think it was brown,” Rob finally says, and I realize I remember his name.
    Anna notes it on her chart.
    â€œWhen will it be safe to get old?” Michael whispers.
    â€œDo we have to stay with him?” the taller kid asks, an unmistakable panic in his eyes. “The show’s about to start any minute now. . . .”
    He trails off as a child of maybe about eight wanders into the tent, his left knee bleeding profusely. A moment later, a short, dark-haired woman comes meandering in after him. “Think we need a Band-Aid,” she says in a Southern drawl.
    Unfazed as ever, Anna quickly ushers Michael toward a chair and motions for me to take some of his vitals. She then takes the mother and child to a separate corner. “Tell me what happened,” I hear her ask in her matter-of-fact voice.
    I make sure Michael is in place before I take my penlight and stare into his glassy eyes. If it’s possible, they just get bigger. I’m surprised his tear ducts haven’t kicked in by now.
    I look back at his two companions and see that their panic hasn’t abated in the slightest. The taller one is staring at the boy with the bloody knee and looks on the verge of a freakout himself.
    â€œHey, what are your names?” I ask them. “Actually, you’re Rob, right?” I smile at him. I’m not likely to forget that physique anytime soon.
    â€œYeah . . . ,” he says, eyeing me suspiciously before breaking into a grin. “Groovy. A psychic nurse.”
    Clearly, meeting me was not as memorable for him.
    â€œAnd you are?” I turn to the very tall guy standing next to him, the one who keeps staring at the child’s bloody knee.
    Rob hits his companion in the elbow to get his attention.
    â€œEvan,” he finally says, tearing his eyes away from the blood.
    â€œI’m Cora. Honestly, I think this one’ll be a while, fellas,” I say as I feel for Michael’s pulse. “How about I keep Michael in here and you come get him at, say, around . . .” I look at my watch. It’s eleven a.m. “Let’s say one?”
    â€œOh my God,” Michael says and I see him staring agape at my watch, before turning his gaze back onto me. “You have caught time. In there,” he whispers as he points at my watch. “ You are the master. How did you do