“Well, I don’t see how this hurts anybody,” she said. “And you’ll watch the shop while I’m gone?”

“You’ll only be thirty feet away, and I’m not going to think you’re racist if you take your cashbox with you. I’ll think you’re a prudent businesswoman.” That was true—for all she knew this could be some kind of elaborate scam.

“Oh!” I said. “And once you buy them, tell him you’ll buy as many more of them as he can find.”

And that’s all it took. She was off.

Less than ten minutes later, she was back.

“I got them all. He wanted to keep one of them, but I upped the price until I got all four.” She handed me the bag. “I had to fight every instinct to not bargain more, but I think he thinks they’re something special. But I got them for a hundred and eighty, so I can’t keep all your money.” She started to pull some cash out of her pocket.

“No …” I realized I didn’t know her name.

“Clara,” she said kindly.

“Clara, I’m Maya. I don’t know how to explain it to you, but what you did for me today was worth way more than four hundred twenty dollars.” I was smiling—I couldn’t stop. I needed to put my hands on those rocks again.

“That can’t be true, dear.”

“It can be. And it will be extra worth it if you tell me everything you found out from that man.”

“He was perfectly nice to me. We talked some about the market and how business was going. He lives outside Philly and he says he bought these from his brother-in-law and doesn’t know where his brother-in-law got them, but honestly, that’s vendor code for ‘I don’t want to tell you where I got these.’ But when I told him I’d buy as many as he could find, his eyes did light up a little. I chatted him up a bit—he does cable and internet repair for his day job.”

This was not new information to me, but I tried not to show it.

“Did you get his name?”

“Oh, yeah, he gave me his business card, it’s in the bag.”

I opened it up. The rocks were wrapped in tissue paper, and indeed, there was a business card sitting on top of them.

“Just … thank you,” I said, giddy with the success. It finally felt like something was happening.

“Thank you, sweetie.” And she winked at me.

I went and got a hot sausage sandwich. I sat down at a picnic table and dumped the stones out. They twinkled up at me like they were alive—like they had plans for me.

Someone sat down at the table, and I scooped the stones back into the paper bag.

“You’re Maya.” I looked up and saw a guy in his thirties with dark, styled hair and Oakley glasses perched on top of his head.

“I am,” I said skeptically.

“I remember you from April’s videos.”

I wasn’t in any of April’s videos, so this was one of the most terrifying things he could have said to me. He knew who I was, and he was lying about how.

I tried to act calm. “Look, I’m just here to eat my hot sausage, then I’m headed home.”

“Did you do some shopping?” he continued, not taking the hint.

“A little.” I started wrapping up my sandwich.

“What did you buy?”

“Just a bracelet,” I lied.

“I’ll buy it from you,” he told me.

“What?”

“The bracelet.”

I was standing now.

He continued, “Five hundred bucks.”

“I don’t know what you think is happening right now, but none of this makes any sense, and I’m going to go.”

“OK! OK!” he rushed. “I’m sorry, this is going different than how I expected.”

“Yeah, well, same,” I said, backing away from him.

“Let me explain!”

For some reason I stopped. It was weird enough that I did want an explanation.

“I do an alternate reality game. It’s called Fish. Do you know what RGs are?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said. I was roughly familiar with folks who paid a monthly subscription for clues to be dropped into their lives.

“Well, I just got a text from Fish saying that if I found you and got you to give me what you bought at Cowtown that I would advance two levels instantly. So, can I have it?”

“No!” I said.

“A thousand,” he said.

“No, it’s not a price thing. This is just weird and I don’t like it.”

“Ten thousand.” He was taking out his cell phone like he was going to Venmo me ten grand.

“No! And stop asking.”

His frustration was turning to anger now.

“Just let me buy it! It’s a good deal!”

He was at least six inches taller than me, and every step I took back, he moved forward into. His hand reached out for the bag, and adrenaline pumped into my body. I panicked, threw my hot sausage sandwich at his face, and ran back into Cowtown.

I ran through the booths, jumping around and dodging people, not taking time to look behind me until I was halfway through the massive building. When I looked back, the Oakleys guy was nowhere to be seen. I started walking more normally now, afraid people would be suspicious, but I was also winded. Fitness was never my focus.

Another guy locked eyes on me, this guy was middle-aged with his dark hair close cropped where it wasn’t balding.

“Are you Maya?” he asked. I was still catching my breath, so I did not reply, about to start running again.

“Did you buy anything at the market today?” he asked. I took off as fast as I could, which is not particularly fast, but I did not stop until I got to my truck. I hit the push-button starter on the rental and did everything I could not to drive too erratically out of the Cowtown parking lot.

I considered just driving home to Manhattan, but the rocks sitting in their little bag on the passenger seat were whispering to me. Something was happening, and I couldn’t give up now. Plus, as I drove in circles, trying to figure out if someone was following me, I got an idea.

Now a note because it feels necessary:

When we think about the first anniversary of the arrival of the Carls, we mostly think about that shooting. But really, the whole day was a pretty good and normal day until that evening. Yeah, people were mad on the internet. And yes, there were a couple little skirmishes at a parade. But it only takes one person shooting their way into a nightclub to change the story.

We gave everyone in America that power when we decided that basically anyone can buy an assault rifle. I don’t pretend to understand the motivations of these shooters, but ultimately it has to be at least a little bit about power, right? They’ve been convinced that having power is how you measure your worth, and they are sad or angry or, as is so often the case, both, and they see that there’s one way they can definitely change the world. They’ve seen a dozen other guys do the same thing, so why not them?

I hate that I even have to write about it here because, ultimately, billions of people decide every day to be decent and kind, but one person decides to be powerful for a moment and now I have to talk about it or people will be like, “But what about the shooting?”

Well, what about it? It happened. It was terrible.