Handsome Johnny sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. He looked down at Livy, who, by some miracle, was still snoozing. “Should we wake her?” he asked me.
Before I could respond, Livy grumbled, “Who has an aspirin?” No one answered, so she rolled onto her back. “Somebody please shoot me.”
What amazed me most about Livy’s beauty was that she looked just as pretty when she opened her eyes in the morning as she had the night before, no matter what she’d done or how late she’d stayed up.
Johnny leaned into her ear. “I’ll find you one, love. Hey, Slim, do you or Dave have an aspirin?” he shouted. “Livy’s got a helluva headache.”
Poor ole Slim popped right up. “No, man, but I’ll find her one.” The back of his greasy bedhead was all we could see as he sprinted toward the medical tent, not all that far away.
“I’ll take one too, please,” I hollered.
Slim waved without turning around.
“Who wants to come with me to page my boyfriend?” Livy asked, in her ultrascratchy morning voice. If I had to hear her saymy boyfriendone more time, I’d scream bloody murder.
I sure didn’t volunteer. No one did. Not even Johnny. So she asked again. “Will somebody please come with me?” This time she sat up and looked straight at me.
“Before I can do anything, I have to visit the woods,” I told her. “My head hurts, and I’m really, really hungry. I need to find food first.”
“Okaaay,” Livy said, drawing out the word, then followed it with an exasperated sigh. Frustration oozed from her eyeballs.
It astonished me that Livy wasn’t ready to give up on Nick. I sure would have. She should have listened to me yesterday when I questioned his trustworthiness. Still, she wrote out another note on one of Johnny’s rolling papers and tucked it inside her purse. For later.
After Slim returned with a handful of aspirin and everyone took turns in the woods, our little group gathered to formulate a plan for finding food. It was decided we’d have to split up. To be fair, we’d all take turns so no one would lose their seats. Slim and Dave set out first.
All morning long, the announcers had been keeping the audience abreast of life outside Yasgur’s dairy farm. They informed us that the media had declared Woodstock a disaster area. A disaster area? Even with the rain, the cold, and the mud, I’d still call it awonder area. Chip Monck announced that the New York State Thruway had been reopened, and state troopers were finally allowing cars back into the site. He said a hundred thousand more people were expected to roll in throughout the day.
Instantly I turned to Livy. “Nick’s on the way. He’ll be here soon.”
“I still wanna page him,” she said. “Please, please come with me.”
I closed my eyes with a heavy sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want to go with you. I just don’t want to lose Leon. I really like him, Livy.”
“I can see why. He’s beautiful.”
“Not just that. He’s really nice and really funny. All I can think about is making out with him.”
She chuckled, patted my knee. “I’ll ask Johnny to go with me.”
9:00 a.m.
An hour after Livy and Johnny left in search of food, they returned empty handed. She claimed the Food for Love concessions area was an even bigger madhouse than it had been the night before, and she refused to stand in line. Hamburger or no hamburger, hot dog or no hot dog, she didn’t care—the lines were far too long. She was positive somebody somewhere would take pity on her and share their food like people had done yesterday.
I overheard Johnny telling Leon most of their time away had been spent at the info booth, and the long wait for Livy’sboyfriendhad been brutal. Thank God it wasn’t me.
Now it was our turn. Despite Livy’s warning about the long lines, I was not deterred. My stomach growled, and my mouth watered at the thought of a juicy hamburger.
By the time Leon and I made it to the top of the bowl, we were up to our knees in mud.
The scene looked just as Livy had described. Thousands of people in slow-moving lines. To make matters worse, you had to stand in one line to buy your food tickets and another to receive your food.
A full two hours later, we walked away with a canned drink for each of us and a cold hot dog for Leon. The hamburger I’d set my heart on was sold out by the time we made it to the front of the line, so I’d ordered a hot dog. When I’d spied a dude serving them right out of a cellophane package, my hunger vanished. Not to mention, they had upped the price from twenty-five cents to a dollar overnight. No way I’d waste my money on something that unappetizing.
Another disappointment: My Coke wasn’t a Coke. Or even a Pepsi. It was something called a Best Cola.
Once we’d been served, we stopped at a stand with a variety of condiments so Leon could dress his hot dog. Watching him zigzag the ketchup onto his bun made me queasy. Cold dog, cold bun, cold ketchup. Gross.
As we turned to leave, I neglected to look behind me, consequently slamming head-on into a solid mass. My face literally planted inside a dense jungle of chest hair.
