tenSASSY
Sassy was riding a huge high. She never wanted to come down. One song at Chez Monique had turned into an encore of two more, and when she finally lay down to sleep hours later, she could still hear the applause. She bounced out of bed the next morning then sang the whole time she was making coffee and burning toast.
She’d been a hit. Ed had come to the greenroom after and asked her to play again the following week, which had given her great satisfaction. Davey, who had begun to think of himself as her agent, said he was going to visit other coffeehouses and see if he could stir up more interest.
Right now, he paced in the living room, impatient.
“Let’s go!” he hollered.
From her bedroom, Sassy made a noncommittal response, spinning with happiness and checking her reflection in the mirror. She’d taken out the braids from the night before, and now the kinky waves fell like an accordion. She wrapped a bright red kerchief over the top to keep it out of her eyes, then she decided to match that with some lipstick. She felt like a completely different girl from the one who had been so worried the day before. Shewasa different girl. She was—almost—a star.
“Sassy!”
She threw back the last of her coffee then poked her head out of the bedroom. “What?”
“Come on!”
“What’s the rush? The protest doesn’t start for another hour.”
Davey sighed. “The party’s already started, and I’m on the committee. I don’t want to be late. Come on. Let’s go.”
She blinked into the hallway mirror one last time, adjusted her kerchief, then headed out with him. Like always, the neighbour’s door clicked shut as they passed, but she hardly noticed. Last night had been wonderful, and today was going to be extra groovy. Davey had convinced her of that, though it hadn’t taken much. Her first real war protest.
Davey’d become part of an organization called TADP, or Toronto Anti-Draft Programme, providing aid and support to war resisters arriving in Canada with little more than the clothes on their backs. TADP was the largest group of its kind in Canada, he told her, and it was a full-time volunteer job for dozens of people, since the demand increased daily. Seven days a week, trained counsellors were on hand to advise Americans who wanted to immigrate to Canada. They also gave guidance once they arrived, including helping them find employment, and even temporary places to live. For that, the TADP relied on two hostels, as well as a network of almost two hundred people around Toronto who offered rooms in their homes. When it came to deserters—as opposed to resisters—it became more of a sticky political situation, but the TADP had lawyers to help them as well.
Tens of thousands of resisters had crossed the border into Canada since the war had begun, seeking refuge. What Sassy hadn’t known, until Davey told her, was that almost half of those were women.
Today’s protest had been set up almost single-handedly by Davey, she knew, though he humbly insisted everyone had a hand in it. He was becoming an excellent coordinator, no matter how lazy he claimed to be.
“Are you what they call a conscientious objector?” she asked as they walked.
He shook his head. “No religious reasons, no political reasons. Just moral ones, and those don’t count. So I left. People in Canada are pretty accepting of resisters, for the most part. They prefer us to deserters, anyway.”
“What was your moral reason?”
“I don’t feel like there’s any justification for us to be down there, fighting in a faraway war that has nothing to do with our country. So I cut out.”
“My brother said it’s our duty to make sure communism never reaches our borders, so North Vietnam has to be stopped. What do you think of that?”
He shrugged. “That’s what a lot of people say, and, if they believe that, then power to them. Your brother went because he is an idealist. He thinks he can make a difference. He figures the chance of his being killed or having to kill others is worth it to stop a political system from possibly coming to our country. Good for him. I guess I’m doing the same thing, except opposite. Like him, I think I can make a difference. My belief is that if communism gets closer, we worry about it then. Right now, there’s no reason for us to be there. The war’s been going on for years already, and nothing has been accomplished. More people dying on both sides, that’s all.”
“I bet that was a hard choice to make, standing up to the entire military machine,” she noted.
His expression fell. “Not all that bad for me, but you know what they did to Muhammad Ali this spring? The heavyweight champion of the world? He’s Muslim, and he refused to fight or go to jail because of his beliefs, so the World Boxing Association took away his title and banned him from boxing for four years. Bravest man in the world, to stand up to all that pressure. He’s an inspiration.”
“Yeah, but you’re brave, too. It must have been hard to leave your family and come up here on your own.”
“I’m not sure my dad will ever get over it. He was in the army in his time. He still has a buzz cut, and he has his medals framed on the wall. He thinks fighting is our patriotic duty. I could never look at a war that way. Sure, a man can do brave things and be a hero or whatever, but in every war, innocents are slaughtered. Nobody should win a medal for doing that.”
She couldn’t argue. Her dad had a medal, too, she recalled. She pictured it hanging on his office wall and wondered what he’d done to earn it.
“What would have happened to you if you’d stayed home?” she asked.
“I’d have to hide, but the FBI goes after anyone who goes underground. I had a friend who refused to serve in the military even though it would mean he’d end up with a five-year prison sentence. I guess he thought he was making a statement. Jail’s not for me, man. There’s no shame in moving here. Canada’s beautiful, and I got my whole life ahead of me.”
She liked thinking of her country that way, as safe and welcoming and offering a future, but she’d never forget what her father had said about Canada making and selling weapons for war. It was difficult to reconcile both sides.
They heard eager, raised voices when they were about a block away from the TADP office, and Davey picked up his pace.
