Hondo said, “Thanks, Bob.”
“Sure thing, guys. Hey, are we going fishing anytime soon?”
Hondo said, “Let’s try for next Saturday. I can get the loan of a boat.” Bob gave us the thumbs-up and ambled out on the pier, stopping to shake hands with friends and compare fish stories. We could tell because they held their hands apart while talking to show the size of their fish.
We walked across the sand to the area of grass and palm trees where Twenty-Ninth Avenue intersected the beach.
Jericho Moon saw us coming, but continued talking to the young people, most of whom appeared to be in their late teens, with a couple of them in their early twenties. Moon glanced at us and said to the group, “We will continue our talks tomorrow. You are all beautiful. Peace to you.”
He placed the guitar on the grass and stood, smiling like he’d been expecting us. I guessed Jericho to be somewhere in his mid-thirties.
Three women rose with the others, but didn’t leave. They moved to stand beside Moon, and all had welcoming smiles. He touched each of the women as he said their names, “This is Suri,” she had black hair and dark brown eyes, the nicest looking of the three. “Donna,” who had sun-streaked blond hair and blue eyes, “And Willow.” Willow had a slight Asian cast to her brown eyes and a build like her name suggested. He said to the women, “These are the famous Venice private detectives, Ronny Baca and Hondo Wells. Show them welcome.”
The women put their hands on our arms and said in unison, “We’re happy to meet our new brothers.” They might have been zombies under a spell from the way they said it. Jericho made a slight motion with his hand and the women retreated behind him as he turned his focus on us.
Jericho had warm, doe-brown eyes, and his entire countenance was one of welcome. Hondo shook hands, and when I reached to do the same, he hugged me like an old friend. He stepped back, his eyes moist, and said, “Brother, I’m sorry for the unhealed wounds you carry inside.” He looked at Hondo, “You as well, my brother. But his wounds,” he nodded to me, “are from not being able to save others. His grief is deep, and he hides it away from the world.”
Now, I’m the one who usually poo-poos this kind of thing while Hondo is more into the metaphysical, mystical stuff. But this time Jericho Moon pushed my buttons. I felt like he saw deep inside; saw the things I never told anyone. Thank goodness for Hondo, who got straight to the point.
Hondo said, “Is Bodhi Artell with you?”
Jericho shook his head. He turned to the three women, “Have you seen her?”
Suri, the nice looking one said, “Not in a week or two.”
Moon said, “The Bodhi Child is out somewhere in the world, but not here with our family.”
I said, “The last time you saw her, was that at Spago?”
He didn’t appear surprised. “No, a little after that, when some of her friends told me I was an unhealthy influence on Bodhi.”
Hondo said, “Did they scare you off?”
Moon smiled, “Nothing like that. We’re all brothers and sisters on this earth, and they are mine. Besides, I don’t scare, because love is all I have inside me. There’s no room for any other emotions.”
I said, “I’m not a believer, Jericho. People are complex and full of emotions. Nothing else is possible.”
“Neither of you are believers. But this one,” He nodded at Hondo, “is at least seeking for the answer.” He turned to me, “You, my brother, are not. If you come to me, I will show both of you a better path.”
“Where would that be, where we would come to meet you?” Hondo said.
He pointed at the grass, “We are here at the moment. Would you like to begin?” The man seemed so sincere, and like the most understanding human being I ever met.
Hondo said, “We can’t today. How about some other time, wherever your office is?”
“My office is wherever I am.”
I said, “How about if we find you.”
“As it should be. I’ll be waiting.”
As we left, we watched another group of four young women come and sit on the grass as Jericho strummed his guitar and sang to them.
I said, “I feel like I just had Thulsa Doom from Schwarzenegger’s Conan movie tell me, ‘I am the wellspring from which you flow’.”
“The man has a way about him.”
I said, “How about we go around and do some digging on this dude, and his dudettes.”