I had been hanging out with five or six unsavory fellows for several days in a city which seemed to be in Florida. As we walked around a market area, I was contemplating trying to buy a rather large quantity of drugs. Since the other fellows did not know me well, I was uncertain what they would think when I told them I wanted to buy so much drugs: they would either think I was a drug dealer or a police officer. I knew I was a drug dealer, but I did not know how to convince them of that. As we walked past a building, I saw a reflection of myself in a window. My hair was short and I looked straight. I knew it was going to be hard to convince the fellows I was a drug dealer. And if I told them I was a lawyer they would probably think there was a greater chance that I was a police officer, even though I knew many lawyers were drug dealers.
We finally walked into a building where booths were set up for selling things. The room we were in also reminded me of a large classroom. As we looked for something to do, we found some old mattresses which we could lie on. After lying down, I became bored. Although activity was taking place in other parts of the room, nothing was happening where I was. I noticed someone had some old eight track tapes for sale and I looked through some of them. I was interested in one by Bob Dylan, but it was too expensive. The tapes were being sold for four or five dollars apiece, and I was used to paying 50 cents apiece for them.
I walked around looking for something to do, but was unable to think of anything. As I walked into a section for bows and arrows, and picked up a long bow, I noticed a man had followed me into the section. I could see a target at the end of the building about 30 meters away. After I picked up an arrow and was thinking of shooting it, the man who had followed me gave me some instructions. I could not pull the arrow back far on the bow, and when I did get it pulled back, it was shaking. I could not seem to make it hold still.
I put it down. I picked it back up, aimed, gained a steady bead, and let the arrow fly. I watched as the arrow slowly and gracefully floated toward the bullseye, surprising me as it penetrated a black section of the bullseye not far from the center. Applause broke out around me. Among those applauding was my wife Carolina.
I felt elated. I thought, "I shot an arrow into the air, and it landed, I know not where."
I had really enjoyed the experience. I looked for more arrows, but only saw one thin, long arrow which was obviously in poor condition. It looked as if it had been made from cardboard and had wings on it like from a model plane. I knew it wouldn't work well. I really needed to have my own arrows if I could find some to buy.
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