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enticing. Kevin loved the Northwest in the summer, and he wanted to
vault in a Masters' track meet in Eugene, Oregon, in August. So it did
sound like the answer to both Kevin's monetary problems and like an
adventurous summer to boot. Most compelling of all, Kevin loved Scott.
He remembered the halcyon days in Hawaii a decade earlier. "He and I
laughed more together than any friend I ever had." Shoving down any
suspicion, Kevin headed west from Great Falls, Virginia. He saw that the
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treehouse was in the embryonic stage of yet another transformation.
He could appreciate the challenge posed in rebuilding the treehouse and
the sheer fun in doing it. Even so, Kevin noted wryly that Scott still
used his "cosmic carpentry, " rather than any sound principles of
building. It drove Kevin Meyers nuts to see Scott's strongman approach
to carpentry. If Scott wanted a tree limb gone, he was as likely to
attack it with a machete as with a saw. Some of the structure was flimsy
and unsafe, but Scott only laughed when Kevin pointed that out.
He shrugged scott had always taken shortcuts and that hadn't changed.
But other things had. On this visit, Kevin was troubled as he sensed
that Scott was heading down "a dark path." Scott made no effort now to
hide the fact that he was heavily involved in some kind of drug
business, but he spoke of it euphemistically. He always referred to what
he was doing as just another "experiment." Lots of Scott's experiments
had failed. Kevin remembered when he had tried to grow marijuana using
Gro-litesin a space he'd hollowed out beneath the old barn.
That had been a joke. Even though Scott hid the excavation with bales of
hay, everyone along Overhulse seemed to know what he was up to. And then
his cannabis plants were flooded out by underground water. He'd finally
admitted that he couldn't grow nearly enough pot on his own acreage to
make any profit. Although Kevin never walked back into the Mima Mounds
behind the house where he painted, he soon suspected what went on there.
He figured that Scott must have a huge crop of marijuana someplace back
among the mounds and the wooded property. But what Kevin didn't actually
see for himself, he wouldn't have to acknowledge. He spent his days
painting canvases in the harsh light that reflected off the pool of the
rental house. What he was doing gave him an uneasy feeling nevertheless.
So many times that summer, Kevin berated himself for accepting Scott's
offer. Scott made the mortgage payments on Kevin's house in Virginia,
but he never paid him so much as a dollar that summer that he could put
in his pocket.
He was completely dependent, and he hated the feeling. Nothing Kevin
painted was memorable or up to his usual standards. He knew why, he was
corrupting the thing that meant most to him. Kevin would have been
utterly lonesome if Scott hadn't insisted he have some kind of a guard
dog with him. "He gave me a couple of hundred dollars and told me to go
buy a dog, " Kevin said. "I bought this huge, long-haired Belgian
Shepherd who had been a working guard dog, but he had been locked up in
a cage at some kennel. His name was Max, but I changed it to
B-I-G-D-O-G. That dog was supposed to be dangerous, but he was so glad I
rescued him from the cage that he almost caused me to have an accident
on the way home because he was sitting in my lap, licking my face."
Kevin made a point of not asking Scott specific questions.
When they were back at the place on Overhulse Road, sitting around a
campfire, waking up to the pureness of dawn over Mt. Rainier, it was
easy for Kevin to convince himself that Scott hadn't changed as much as
he feared. Scott still loved nature and their long hikes, he still
railed against the wickedness of clear-cutting timberland.
They rented movies and cheered for the heroes. They forced themselves to
be complimentary when Julie Weathers served vegetarian meals strange
conglomerations of mushrooms and herbs coaxed into souffles that
invariably fell flat. They winked at each other and laughed just the way
they always had, forcing their expressions into innocent stares when she
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accused them of making fun of her. Scott and Julie drove Kevin down to
Eugene for the Masters' track meet, and cheered when he leapt over
sixteen feet and narrowly missed taking a first-place medal.
Onlookers were amazed that he still had such power at the age of
thirty-one. It was a good trip, and the three of them laughed a lot.
Even though Kevin Meyers grew disillusioned with his best friend, he had
forgiven Scott many times. There was a bond between them that was far
closer than that between blood brothers. Kevin loved Scott and hoped
that one day he would change. Scott was just too special not to
metamorphose into the kind of man he was fully capable of being. Scott
continued to entice his old friend to join him in unplanned escapades.
They went to Mexico together in early 1985 and discovered Xalapa on
Mexico's eastern coast, just north of Veracruz. A decade fell away as
they hiked through strange terrain, calling to each other with familiar
crow caws, which signaled there was no danger ahead. They leapt off
thirty-foot rocks into four feet of water, full of an almost forgotten
derring-do. They explored the ancient Zempoala Ruins. "Scott had angels
around him, still, " Kevin remembered. "He was still so lucky.
Somebody had to be watching over him." One day, they were racing through
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