“I heard that high-pitched whine of his bike coming up 281. He skidded into the pull-out and started tearing through that trash can. He threw the trash everywhere. You should have seen it. Styrofoam cups. Empty water bottles. Soda cans. Bags of half-eaten food from the Whip In. He went through all of it. Nasty. No one musta emptied that thing for a while. Then he started searching under the trees and cedars. Only he didn’t put the trash back. I went up to him and asked him what he was looking for. He kept saying, “My notebook. Have you seen it? My notebook. Have you seen it?”