"Did you say your name was, Ramblin' Rose?" Sarah smiled at their old game. I knew she had been crying. "Do you have my bootleg of the '64 acid test?"

"Sure, A grade as always." Handing over the tape she began to sob. Sitting on a couple of pillows, I awaited the depressing story I knew was to come.

"It's my parents." "After Jerry died, they wouldn't talk about it. I knew they were heartbroken, but they wouldn't show any emotion. I think they felt they needed to be strong for me. We made it this far on the trip only because I wanted to go. But today, they came into my tent dressed really weirdly. Dad had a suit and tie on that he hasn't worn for years, and mom was in a really formal silk dress. They stormed into my room and announced that they were staying in Oregon. A house with a white picket fence, you know the drill. When I asked about the journey, they told me to get over it. Can I travel with you, I have no other place to go."

Nodding, I left the tent. Soon I saw another friend, Hobbit. Hobbit was something of a town crier. Any and any and all news traveled through him. Too much Cherry Garcia ice cream made him portly and loveable. He was loud and obnoxious and I love him to death.

"Hobbit, tell me news!" Rushing over to him, I received a big bear hug and a wet kiss on the cheek.

"Rosie, play me a song!"

After playing "Truckin'," "Casey Jones," and "Ship of Fools" I sat and waited for some good news, any good news. None was to come.

After walking around the camp ground, I realized something I had never known before. All these people Sarah, Hobbit, Phil, Alice, Siren and even me myself were puppets. I had always seen myself as so free, living the music. But those notes had been pulling our strings all along. As long as Jerry was there, we were fine. They were right Jerry was god, our god and without him we were all lost.

Spaceman was first. Like me, he hadn't been able to make it to the floating camp grounds every night. Since he was alone, he had to fend for himself. Sleeping in places like phone booths and bushes was risky, but he had to do whatever it took to reach his girl Alice. Everything was going okay until he tried to sleep in the darkest alley of a tough neighborhood. Some guys tried to mug him and he got shot. Little did the Spaceman know, he was less than a mile from the grounds. Needless to say, Alice (along with half of their camp) followed the shot. By the time we got there, he was dead. Alice freaked, she was pregnant with the Spaceman's child. Without any home or family, she had no place to go, so she slit her wrists on the floor of her worn out tent.

Luckily, Sadie Hawkins went to her tent to borrow a copy of "Live Dead" and saved her. And poor Siren, at the age of ten, she got turned the LSD route by some guy with his own lab. While stoned one night, the bastard raped her. Everyone had some sort of hang up. The Dead were dead and the old gang shouldn't be the same again.

I sat down by the center of the fire. I was surrounded by zombies who'd had their dreams crushed. Phil's watch was ticking so loud that it sounded as if the watch itself was inside my brain. I knew that I had to do something, anything, but what could I do? The watch ticked louder. I struggled to think, if Phil were here he would do something funny, crazy, but I wasn't funny at all, so what was left for me to do? The only thing I knew how.

I opened my guitar case and tuned up. Then I started to play, softly at first, then louder. I began to sing "Friend of the Devil." In the beginning, there was no reaction, just blank faces. But then a voice joined me. It was Sarah, coming out of her tent for the first time that night. Alice and Siren joined in. Very soon the whole camp was singing. We hadn't done this for so long. A hundred voices singing with one voice. When the song was over, we sang another, and another. Yes, Jerry was gone but his music was still alive. That was all any of us needed, something to believe in. I knew I must remember, something to believe in.