“So, Dave, we need to go to the information booth. Would you mind if we put our stuff down with yours before we leave?” Livy pressed her hands together like she was praying.
“Sure. Whatever you need.”
Leon and Johnny beamed at each other. It seemed they were quite pleased with the way things were working out.
Livy led the way as the four of us meandered behind Dave, once again tiptoeing through humans, blankets, and coolers.
Once there, we met Slim, a tall slender clean-cut with greasy hair, who cleared spots out of nowhere. Instead of being irritated that four more people had crowded in, the people seated around them greeted us with friendlyhellos. All seemed happy we were there. One guy even passed Johnny a bottle of wine.
Turns out, Slim and Dave were brothers from Connecticut—at Woodstock to “experienceHendrix.” Along with fifty thousand others, they had arrived four days early to make sure they got to see him up close. Now, because of their generosity, we had snagged the perfect viewing spot. A stroke of luck I’d never seen coming. All thanks to Livy’s beauty.
Leon turned to Johnny. “I’ll hang out here and guard the spot.”
I did not want to wait for Nick at the information booth; I wanted to stay with Leon. Besides, I needed a little space from Livy. Mustering all my courage, I asked, “Okay if I hang out here with you?”
“Sure,” Boy Beautiful said.
Thrilled, I placed a hand on Livy’s shoulder. “Nick’s gonna be there waiting. I just know it.”
Her face fell. I could tell she would rather have me come along, but she didn’t object. “He better be,” she said before dropping our bag, and her purse, on the ground. She stuffed her cigarettes in the back pocket of her cutoffs, dug inside the front pocket for her Pink a Pale, and applied a fresh coat.
Within moments we heard the page. “Nick McCarthy. Livy is looking for you. Please gonowto the information booth to meet her.” The announcer chuckled, adding, “The key word isnow.”
Livy jumped in place. “Hurry, Johnny. Let’s go.”
“Right behind you, love.”
Yet again, Livy Foster had another cute boy chasing after her.
Woodstock
Day One
Friday, August 15, 1969
4:00 p.m.
Once they left for the information booth, Leon and I settled in with Dave and Slim, spreading out our blankets as best we could. The couple in front introduced themselves as Cary and Keith, then passed us an open beer and a bag of popcorn. Leon took a swig, then dug a hand into the popcorn before offering the same to me. The girl next to us introduced herself as Anne Marie. She’d traveled to Woodstock all by herself.
Some folks were napping; others were basking in the warmth of the sun while listening to the background music on the PA. Directly in front of us, a guy danced in place with a transistor radio held up to his ear.
I would have loved nothing more than to stand up and dance. Yet my butt was sewed to the blanket like a patch on a quilt, inhibited by shadows of the past. It had been ages since I’d danced. My confidence had vanished. Furthermore, with the absence of Livy and Johnny, I’d reverted to not knowing what to say to Leon. I wished I’d had more ofthat beer. I didn’t like the taste of it, but I’d have guzzled the whole can if given the chance.
“The music is going to start very soon, folks,” the announcer informed us around four thirty. “Don’t worry.”
Leon tilted his head toward mine. “Right on.”
“I can’t wait.” Pulling my knees into my chest, I flashed him a shy smile. He had no idea how flustered he made me.
Right then, the unmistakable first guitar chords of “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” blasted from the PA. Without meaning to, I gasped.
“What’s the matter?” Leon asked.
“Oh, nothing. It’s just this song. I love it so much.” Hearing their tune gave me chills. I hadn’t heard it since I was in my closet.
He leaned toward me, eyebrows raised. “You know this album?”
“Pretty much every word.” I reminisced about picking out the chords on the guitar, reading the liner notes, and singing my heart out to “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” four times in a row.
