One day, a sprinkler started suddenly as Armen took a plant sample. The same thing happened a little later that day. Armen watched the air and the vegetation drink up the droplets. That night, he puzzled over a fountain. The city seemed like a gigantic greenhouse; an arboretum, or even a museum. All the greenery seemed real and natural enough, but its existence struck him as wholly artificial. Armen could almost see a glass ceiling towering over the city, which might also explain the smog. Where was all the plumbing in this great greenhouse coming from? Was there a master valve? What was the source of all this abundance? A mammoth spring? A great river? Armen felt compelled to find out, so he began to follow the plumbing.
One day after work, Armen let his curiosity lead him east along Broadway from Elysian Park to the Los Angeles River. Once he got to the bridge, he stood gazing up the concrete channel, A narrow winter stream swayed from one side of the broad wash to the other, and Armen remembered the day that he first laid eyes on the cool, blue California Aqueduct. He was reminded of Cindy, and how much she had changed; or had she?
The River of Angels seemed more a river of ghosts. It would occasionally flow, true enough, but only as a storm drain. It did not exist to provide precious water to the city but rather to take it away; to flush it out to sea. Everything about it seemed so inverted, and Armen’s wandering mind found the irony of it irresistible.
One Friday afternoon, Armen set out to get a better look at the river. He rode down Broadway to the river and looked down into the channel. The same shallow stream wove through the channel bottom. Perhaps it had grown. A worn, French-smelling man with a salt and pepper beard happened by and said, “Isn’t she a sight?” Armen replied “yeah” in a surprised tone. They stood silently for a moment, Armen straddling his bike. Armen remembered a movie or TV scene that featured a car chase through the channel, and he asked the man, “Is there a way down to the river?”
“Oh, yeah,” the man affirmed. “Let me show you.” He led Armen to an access point, and as Armen began to ride his bike down to the concrete channel, the man warned, “one thing. You might not be welcome down there with the LAPD. Don’t make yourself too visible.