Ron pinched her worn-out ass, then poked out his bottom lip. “Poor baby. Want a piggyback ride?”
I wanted to vomit.
She leaped onto his back. The two of them proceeded on like that for a quarter of a mile until Ron finally gave up and put her down.
“I have a great idea!” she said as soon as her feet hit the pavement. “Let’s hitch a ride back to our cars.”
I shot her a discreet hairy eyeball. She still didn’t get it. Why would I want to leave Leon a second sooner than I had to?
“Actually,” she said, with a smile, “on second thought, I can make it.”
The closer we got to town, the more Leon’s words echoed over and over.I don’t know what the future looks like, but I don’t want to be another face in your crowd.I didn’t know what my own future looked like, much less ours. Instead of discussing what that future might look like, our conversation turned coy, like it had on Friday.
What were we to say?I’ll write you every week. I promise to call you every Sunday.I couldn’t help wondering how long it would take for those vows to tarnish, like a forgotten piece of silver. Long-distance telephone calls cost a lot of money. Money neither of us had. I was twenty years old. Leon was twenty-one. Neither of us owned a car, and our colleges were a thousand miles apart.
Paper was cheap, though. So were stamps. At six cents a letter, we could afford to mail one every week. How long could that last? How soon would it be before Leon tired of the “long-distance thing” he’d talked about?
We’d been walking in silence for five minutes when he gripped my hand, like he never wanted to let it go. I had the sense he was having some of the same thoughts I’d been having and couldn’t help wondering if the uncertainty was bothering him half as much as it was me.
Unlike Friday, the forty-five-minute return trip to White Lake seemed to pass in ten. As we strolled into town, many of the locals sat along the road in front of their houses with buckets full of juice and water, urging people to help themselves.
I glanced around at the cars that were still left and thought about how this tiny little town had been invaded by a half a million hippies whom the townsfolk had so desperately tried to keep out. Yet in the end, they had pitched in to help. They’d made thousands of sandwiches and sent canned items, fruit, and hard-boiled eggs out of their own pantries. Despite their inconvenience, they had been incredibly generous. And here they were in front of their homes, still nourishing the hippie freaks. A testament to the beautiful human spirit and the weekend itself.
My time at Woodstock had shifted my thinking about many things. No longer did I feel ashamed by the gaps in my rock-music education. I just knew I could never live without music again. It wasn’t God’s will for me to give up singing and dancing. He had given me the gifts in the first place. And I sure wasn’t going to hell for them. Having been steeped from the cradle in Dad’s dogma and his impossible expectations, I had accepted his truth as my own.
It definitely wasn’t God’s will for me to be put down and humiliated by my own father. I wasn’t the worthless, trashy person he’d made me think of myself as. I was a kind, loving person who tried to find the best in people. Albeit, I had my issues, but I sure wasn’t the only person who had made mistakes. Everyone had. Life could be harsh, but there was still plenty of joy to be found, especially while spending life with those we love.
The weekend had helped me to grasp that real beauty is not about how we look on the outside. It is found in who we are as human beings, the way we treat one another, the way we love one another, and ourwillingness to consider someone else’s feelings before our own. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. When I was a little girl, Mama had helped me to memorize all the fruits available to me as a child of God. I couldn’t throw him away just because of Dad’s wounding.
The five of us grabbed juice and took a moment to quench our thirst. Livy plopped down on the grass and stretched out her legs, moaning loudly.
Ron looked at her with puppy dog eyes. I’d never seen those eyes. And frankly, I wasn’t sure how much more of them I could witness.
“What do you say we make a game plan?” Ron said to the group, while tossing his empty juice bottle into a nearby trash can.
“Please call me a taxi,” Livy whined.
Johnny whipped around to the lady handing out juice. “Any taxis around here, ma’am?”
“Closest taxi is New York City,” she said.
Johnny tapped Livy on the head. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”
“Thanks, man,” she said, then looked at me with apologetic eyes.
Ours was a complicated relationship. We were vastly different people, but Livy had risked her life for my brother. She had reunited me with him, and for that I would be forever grateful. No wonder she had wanted me with her at the information booth.
I had fallen in love, thanks to Livy. How could I stay mad at her forever? I leaned over and whispered in her ear. “We’ve had our rough patches, but we’re cool now, right?”
“So cool,” she whispered back. “I’m happy you met Leon. Make sure you get on the pill, okay?”
I just shook my head.
Ron looked at Leon and Johnny. “Do you guys have time to grab a bite?”
“I wish we could,” said Leon. “My mom needs her car. I was supposed to have it back last night.”
“My folks are waiting on me too,” said Johnny. “We’re having a big family dinner before I leave in the morning.”
