“What do you do for a living?” I asked.
“Construction, mostly. Lots of places going up in California, so it’s easy to find work. I wasn’t worried about leaving to come up here for the festival. My boss said I’d always have a job, seeing as how I’m such a hard worker.” Sully’s eyes twinkled at me.
I smiled. “I’m sure you are.”
“What about you?” Sully grabbed one of my apples and took a bite.
“Me? I work at a local paper in Greenwich Village. It’s kind of an underground rag, but it pays well enough. I do the editing and the political cartoon of the day.”
Sully slapped the blanket with the palm of his hand. “I knew you were smart! You have that look about you.”
“Are you flirting with me again?”
He grinned. “It’s your blush. I love to see it.”
I closed my eyes briefly. “You’re so mean to me.”
Around us, the crowd grew louder and louder, so we could talk about anything we wanted to, and not be overheard.
“So, tell me about the sweetheart you mentioned,” I said.
He turned to lie on his back. “Trace Dreck. He was a looker, too. A real doll. Too bad all he wanted to do was screw around. I wanted more, you know? Not just sex. I think that men can have intimate relationships with men. It’s been done—still is—even if it’s been in the shadows.”
I harrumphed in agreement. “The medical community thinks that homosexuals and lesbians have a mental disorder. Do you believe that? We’re deviants, not capable of anything normal.”
Sully chuckled. “As if there aren’t any deviants among the straights.”
“Tell me about it!” I warmed to my topic. “It’s been ridiculous in this country. Ever since the end of World War II, we’ve had Senator McCarthy, the FBI…hell, the U.S. Post Office on our case. We get locked up, kicked out of the army, lose our jobs, and treated like criminals because we make some of the higher-ups uncomfortable.
“The people of this country are cowering under a regime that wants to define what we do and who we love according to its definition, and what makes it comfortable. Complete and utter bullshit!” I took a breath. “But change is in the wind. With the crap going on in Nam and all the protests for equality—hell, even this festival—we’re finally waking up to the truth of our rights and what freedom really is.”
Sully grinned at me and shook his head. “You’re so passionate about things.” He leaned in closer. “I bet that means you’re an animal in bed, huh.”
I sat up and stared at him incredulously. “Honestly? That’s all you can think about right now?”
Sully sat up, too. “Come on, man. I agree with you, but these problems won’t be solved in a day. As for me, I prefer a peaceful, laid-back approach to things. You wear out real quick if all you ever do is fight. Sometimes you just need to let things be and resolve themselves, in my view.”
I was shocked and upset. “Is that what you really think? How can change happen if we don’t fight?”
He frowned. “Fighting or activism isn’t always the answer. Sometimes, it makes things worse.” Did he actually believe that?
“Well, I believe in doing something to make a difference. I refuse to stand on the sidelines and do nothing. And if that makes you uncomfortable, then I’ll leave.” I stood and grabbed my bedroll and the two pieces of fruit I had left. The flashlight went in with the rest of the things in my backpack. “Get up. I want my blanket.”
“Laramie, calm down! Don’t be like this. Can’t friends have a difference of opinion? There’s always two sides to a story.”
“Get up!” I reiterated.
Finally, he did as I asked, and even helped me fold it, damn him.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said quietly. He was contrite, and for a moment, I felt bad. But my ire was still too close to the surface to be denied.
“I should be by myself for a while. Thanks for sharing your space with me. It was nice to meet you and spend time in your company.” And I meant that. I wouldn’t think too much about the fact that I’d just blown all my chances of any future sexual congress with him, however. Idiot.
“I’ll see you around,” he said. With that, I left Sully behind and made my way through the crowd, apologizing when I stepped on limbs or disturbed some folks mid-coitus.
I could feel eyes on my back, but I wouldn’t turn around. I’d just end up running back and begging for his forgiveness and kiss him stupid, uncaring of the repercussions.
* * * *
As I scoped out another location to settle down, Joe Cocker was announced. I managed to find a spot under a tree—pretty lucky, actually—and got comfortable. There were two couples nearby, completely unaware of their surroundings as they got real close to each other.
I glanced to my left and saw two bodies kneeling underneath a tarp. I could smell the weed they were smoking. I leaned against the trunk at my back and let my mind wander where it would.
Belatedly, I noticed the clouds getting darker, but I was too lost in my thoughts to take a hint of what was probably going to be a monster rainstorm.
Why had I acted like that with Sully? Hell, why do I always do that? It was as if I had no control over my mouth. I had learned to keep my opinions to myself growing up out of sheer self-preservation. So when I moved to New York, it was as if the dam had broken, and all my pent-up frustration and opinions and what-have-you came pouring out.
Apparently, they still were. I knew Sully had only been trying to lighten the mood, and it wasn’t as if his view wasn’t valid. God, I could be so full of it, sometimes. It was a complaint my roommate had had with me almost daily while I lived with him. Maybe I needed someone laid-back like Sully to remind me not to take life so seriously.
Perhaps the recent Stonewall events had thrown me for a loop and pushed me over the edge a bit. It was too late now to apologize. I’d probably lost a potentially great friend. I was such a twit.
As I thought those words, the sky opened up and I was quickly soaked to the bone. “Shit!”
I stuck the bedroll under my legs and stuffed my backpack behind me as I tucked myself as close to the tree as possible. It was little help. Everything got drenched. This is what I get for being such an ungrateful, hot-headed bastard.
The music stopped. There were muddy puddles everywhere as far as I could see from my little perch on the hill. Some folks played around in the deluge. If I hadn’t been such an ass to Sully, I would have been dry under his huge tarp right now. Thankfully, there was no lightning.
It took a while, but finally the rain stopped. Once it was deemed safe, the stage was prepared for the next act.
Max Yasgur, the owner of the property, spoke to us all for a few minutes. He was grateful that we were well-behaved and was happy to have us here. Next up after him was Country Joe and the Fish. I barely heard them playing because I had to start thinking about how I was going to get home tomorrow.
I’d entertained the idea of maybe catching a ride with Sully, since I knew with his charm he’d probably find a lift with someone. Now that I was by myself, I wasn’t sure what would happen. It was only about two hours to Greenwich Village from here, but it would still be a helluva walk if I couldn’t find a ride. At least I didn’t have to be at work until Tuesday morning.
My most pressing problem at the moment was drying my things. As for food, I had an orange left, and my water was almost gone. I checked my flashlight, and, miraculously, it turned on. As I pondered my dismal plight, mostly of my own making, someone named Swami something-or-other gave what amounted to a sermon. It was Sunday, after all.
Later that evening, as the sun started to set, Ten Years After took the stage. I’d hung my blanket over a couple of branches in the hopes of it drying without becoming too moldy. My bedroll was hopeless, though. I’d need to get a new one. I spread a T-shirt out on another branch, and let my shorts dry on me in the heat. At least I had some shade from the sun.
My stomach rumbled,
but I didn’t have the energy to go searching for any food. I felt that was what I deserved after my asinine behavior.
Right after The Band started up, I took a quick piss in the bushes nearby and sat back down to get as comfortable as possible. It was going to be a long night.
* * * *
Monday, August 18, 1969
I woke up stiff as a board around seven in the morning. I barely remembered Blood, Sweat, and Tears and some other bands performing. I was too miserable to care. As it was, a lot of people had already left, probably because they had to go to work or school.
What I could see in the dawn was utter chaos. Trash strewn fields, bodies sprawled carelessly next to, or on top of, each other. The whole place was dirty.
I rubbed my eyes and yawned. The general exodus of people from the festival was slow and steady. Sha Na Na was introduced and I stood to stretch and decide if I was going to stay for the last act, or start walking. Man, was I sore!
I checked my bedroll. It was still wet and starting to smell. I’d have to ditch it. My blanket had dried overnight, and my T-shirt was dry enough to wear, if wrinkled. I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to be half-naked all the way home.
As soggy as my belongings were, I didn’t want to leave my clothing behind, so I’d just deal with the musty smell. I gathered everything up and made my way to the lake to take a quick dip before trying to find a ride.
I stumbled over something and stopped to look down. It was Burt, my ride to the festival. He was entwined with a brunette now, and they were pretty much oblivious to the world around them. I was a little envious as I left them to it.
Abandoned clothing was strewn all over the ground I walked on as I picked my way to the edge. I was alone here. It was strangely soothing, even with the music from the speakers and the detritus in evidence.
I used my mushy bar of soap to clean myself as best I could. Being here reminded me that, just a little while ago, I’d had the best time of my life with a guy, and I’d blown it. Enough already. Time to move on.
Quickly, I washed up and then got out of the water. My towel was still damp, but it wasn’t so soggy I couldn’t dry myself with it. Once done, I put on my shorts and then tugged my shirt over my head.
As I turned to walk back, I heard a female voice calling my name.
“Laramie!”
I turned, and saw it was Shelly. “Hey, you. I thought you’d be gone by now.” Before my tiff with Sully, Shelly and I had talked a little about our jobs, and she’d told me she was an English teacher.
“Soon,” she said. “I’m heading out in about an hour. Need a ride? We’re going your way.” Did I ever! As she spoke, Shelly stripped and walked into the lake.
“Actually, that would be wonderful. I wasn’t sure how I’d get home.” I felt such relief, it was staggering.
“Great! Well, wait right there and I’ll walk with you back to the van. A bunch of us are heading out together.” With that, she immersed herself in the water.
I gave a fleeting thought to Sully and his whereabouts as a guy named Jimi Hendrix was announced. He played a mean guitar, from what I could hear. A few minutes later, Shelly was done, and, dressed again in a bikini, she led the way to where her buddies were hanging out.
I recognized a haunting version of the “Star Spangled Banner” being played by Hendrix, and I was blown away by it. What an iconic way to end the festival! My only regret was not being able to make amends to Sully. Distracted, I walked behind Shelly and didn’t notice when she veered off to the left. I bumped into a muscular chest, and almost fell back on my butt.
Strong arms stopped me from falling in the mud, and I recognized their strength.
“You okay, man?” Sully asked.
It took me a few seconds to find my voice. “Yeah, thanks.” He steadied me and stepped back. It hit me, literally, that this was my chance to make things right.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, and winced. Smooth.
Sully looked at me kind of funny. “Huh? Sorry for what, dude?” He grabbed my stuff in one hand and held my elbow in the other as he guided me to the van I assumed we would be traveling in together.
Wait a minute. “Stop a second.” I dug my heels in, and he complied. “Are you traveling with Shelly and me?”
His eyes became wary. “Is that…will that be a problem?”
“No!” Internally, I slapped myself upside the head. I really needed to stop having such extreme responses to things. “No, it’s fine,” I replied, out loud. “Just took me by surprise, is all. I didn’t expect to see you—or Shelly—again.”
“So, it’s not a bad thing, us being in the same van together?” he asked, his stare hopeful.
Get a grip, Laramie. “I apologize for the way I acted yesterday. I get on my high horse and sometimes it carries me away, usually hanging from the saddle.”
Sully chuckled. “I see that. No worries, we all gotta let off steam, one way or another, and I admit to being flippant and not taking life too seriously most of the time.” He looked me over. “Got soaked, did you?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah, it was a mess. My bedroll is a lost cause, and most of my clothes are damp.” I peered at him. “You’re really not mad at me?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Of course not. Takes a lot more than a difference of opinion to get me really riled up.”
Shelly came over to us. “You guys kiss and make up?” She said this in a low voice.
I was astonished. “What do you…”
“She knows,” he said. “Shelly has a brother who’s just like us.” I blinked, and my mouth opened and closed twice, without any words coming out.
“Would you look at that? He’s speechless!” Sully grinned at me, and I kicked him on the shin.
“Ouch!” I laughed as he hopped around on one foot.
“That’s what you get,” I said, and stuck out my tongue.
“All right, guys,” Shelly said. “We have some food to share if you’re hungry, and then it’s time to go.” She looked at me. “You’re the first one we’ll drop off, and then from there, we head west.”
“I appreciate this more than you know,” I said.
She patted me on the cheek and went to get her meal.
“Amazing, right?” Sully said.
“Yeah.” Now that I’d found him again, I didn’t want to lose contact so soon. “So, are you in a hurry to get back to San Francisco?”
He turned to study me, his arms crossed on his chest. “Why? You have a better offer?”
I needed to come out and say it. “Well, I have to be at work tomorrow, but, I dunno, if you wanted to see New York, and you had the time, to, well, um…” Damn.
He let me off the hook. “Relax, Laramie, I have the time. Hell, I might decide I like it in New York and stay for a while. Construction jobs are everywhere. My sisters won’t miss me, my parents are doing their own thing. I’m free to do what I like.”
I let out the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. “Okay.”
“Come on, let’s get some food before they eat it all.” He placed a hand at my back and escorted me to the van.
* * * *
Hours later, after waiting in a line of cars and foot traffic until the middle of the afternoon, Sully and I were dropped off in Greenwich Village. We both hugged and kissed Shelly and thanked the group for the lift. I got her address and promised to write.
I led the way upstairs to my place in the five-story building, and let us in. The living room was a little musty, so I asked Sully to open the windows and let in some air. I really needed a shower, but I was more hungry than anything else at the moment. Sully was, too, from the growls I could hear coming from his stomach.
I asked him to take our clothes to the shared washroom in the basement of the building and start a load, while I made us toasted ham and cheese sandwiches. Once he got back, I sent him to take a quick shower while I finished up. He returned five minutes later, clad in briefs. I tamped down my de
light for later.
He sat in one of the two chairs at the table. “That smells good, whatever it is.”
“It’s just ham and cheese on rye. Nothing spectacular.” I set a plate with two sandwiches on it in front of him, and proceeded to make one for myself. On our way up to my floor earlier, I’d stopped at the vending machine and gotten us some Cokes. The bottles were already on the table, along with an opener.
I sat with my own plate, and set some paper towels between us. “Let’s eat.”
We were both starving, so no words were spoken as we finished our sandwiches in no time flat. Sully was still hungry, so I made him another sandwich and then excused myself to take a quick shower.
Perhaps I should have felt nervous about having him in my home, but I was just so happy to see him again, someone I’d thought I’d lost through careless words on my part, that I didn’t have time to worry.
Once I got into another pair of shorts and a T-shirt, I went back to the kitchen. But Sully had cleaned up and was now sitting on the sofa in the living room. The TV was on, and he was watching Johnny Carson on The Tonight Show.
He got up when I came in, but I told him to relax. “I’m just going to put the clothes in the dryer. I’ll be back soon.”
Sully got up anyway and turned off the set. “Let me come with you. I want to spend as much time as possible with you, even if it’s doing something as mundane as watching clothes spinning in a machine.”
My heart melted, but I simply shrugged my shoulders. “Suit yourself. I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“Back in a sec.” He ran back to the bedroom where he’d placed his belongings, and soon returned wearing a rumpled T-shirt and some shorts. Even disheveled, he was something to behold. “Lead the way,” he said, and that solitary dimple just begged me to lick it.
I locked the door behind us and we both made our way down the staircase to the basement. It was late enough at night that we were the only ones around. Sully got the clothes out of the washer and put them in the dryer I’d chosen. Then, we sat together on the wooden bench across from the machine and watched it spin.
Woodstock Gave Me You Page 3