by Sandra Bloom
Kacey reached into the pocket of her skirt, looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched, and then pulled out a wrinkled, folded up-flyer. “Look at this,” she said conspiratorially.
Lisa took it in her hands and read:
ROCK ON!
SATURDAY, JUNE 15, PARSON FIELDS IN CHASKA
THE RASCALS! THE TURTLES! THE BYRDS!
ALL TOGETHER! ALL AFTERNOON!
A BENEFIT TO FEED THE STARVING IN BIAFRA!
GIVE GENEROUSLY & ENJOY THE MUSIC!
“Where’d you get this?”
“I pulled it off a telephone pole.”
“Why?”
“Because I want us to go.”
Lisa was stunned. “Are you crazy?”
But Kacey was calm. “Nope. Music has been passing us by, Lisa. And these are three top rock groups in the country, practically in our backyard! We gotta hear ’em!”
“I repeat, are you crazy?”
“We can do this! I know we can!”
Lisa’s irritation rose to the surface. “Well, I can think of a few reasons why we can’t do it. Let’s see, for starters, that’s the day of the community meeting. Kind of a big deal, I’d say! And after that, I think we might stand out just a bit in our habits, even if they are modified! And then, um,” she mocked, “there’s the question of transportation. I suppose you’d propose hitchhiking.”
“That’s exactly what I’m proposing!” Kacey clapped her hands.
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Oh, did I fail to mention the cost? We don’t have any money!”
“It’s a benefit, Lisa! There’s no set fee. We’ll give what we have! They won’t turn us away!”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve got about sixty cents till the end of the month.”
“Then that’s what you’ll put in the bucket at the gate! They’re not going to count it. I’ve got a little over a dollar, so we’ll put in a bill and some change! It’ll work!”
“Oh, Kacey, I can’t believe this!”
“I’ve thought of all those things, Lisa. Actually, the community meeting makes it perfect! There’ll be over a hundred here for it. We won’t even be missed. We can just slip out!”
“Oh, Kacey,” Lisa repeated.
“Really, we can do this! I picked up a couple of outfits for us in Rochester. At the Salvation Army.”
“What?”
“Well, they’re not great, of course, but we could change into them once we’re away from here, and we’d fit right in.”
Lisa looked at Kacey with incredulity. “How long have you been planning this?”
“I haven’t, really. I’m not even sure why I got those things. I guess I was just hoping that sometime before the summer ends, we could, you know, go off on our own for an adventure. We might never have another chance!”
“Oh, this would be quite the adventure, all right!” Lisa exclaimed. The puzzle was forgotten as the two hunched together across the table, the intensity of their conversation growing.
“C’mon, Leesey! One last hurrah before the door slams shut on us!”
Lisa was silent. Then, “How do I know the clothes will fit?”
Now Kacey laughed out loud. She knew she had her. “Believe me! They’ll fit well enough!”
Shortly after ten o’clock Saturday morning, Kacey slipped into the pantry, startling Lisa, who was pacing up and down. Kacey lifted a paper bag, waving it. “Our disguises! C’mon, let’s make a break for it!”
They scurried across the empty kitchen and warily opened the back door, closing it gently behind them. They sprinted across the driveway and slipped into the evergreens marking its far edge.
Kacey giggled as they reached the street. “So far, so good!”
“Yeah, but now what?” Lisa asked.
“Now we head for the nearest intersection with a gas station, and we change clothes.”
They found a Pure Oil three blocks away, asked for the key to the restroom, and locked themselves in. It was Lisa’s first sight of the clothes Kacey had bought. “You’ve got to be kidding!” Lisa shrieked as Kacey handed her the cutoffs and striped tank top.
“You can have the other outfit if you’d rather.” Kacey held up the madras Bermudas and the fire-engine-red tank top. “Your choice.”
“They both look too small. I can’t stuff myself into either!”
“Of course you can,” Kacey scolded. “It’s not like I could try them on in the Salvation Army store! Just pick one and make it work!”
Reluctantly, Lisa took the cutoffs and the striped tank, folding her skirt, blouse, T-shirt, pantyhose, and shoes into the bag. As she stepped into the cutoffs, she squealed, “Ick! We don’t have any underpants!”
“Well, don’t you think we’d look a little ridiculous wearing our pantyhose under our shorts? Quit complaining! You won’t die of it!”
“We’ll look ridiculous anyway!” Kacey gave her a look but Lisa wasn’t quite done. “Did you wash them after you bought them?”
“Oh, sure!” Kacey mocked. “Honestly, do you really think I could put tank tops and cutoffs in the convent laundry?”
They struggled into the cutoffs. Too small. Too small! Lisa winced as she tugged at the zipper. The feeling of the crotch seam against her bare skin immediately irritated her. She tried to wiggle free of the roughness but to no avail. Kacey’s reaction was the same. “I never thought about this part,” she said sheepishly.
They pulled the tops over their heads and inched them down to their waists. The shirts clung to them like plastic wrap. Kacey and Lisa looked at one another’s bodies, breasts pushing out against the tight, thin cloth. Kacey felt exposed. Naked arms. Naked legs. She was embarrassed and had to look away. Lisa glared at her friend, her mouth a taut line, her jaws clenched.
Finally, Kacey picked up the flip-flops, handing Lisa the Adidas. “No turning back now,” she said, “we’ve got to face the world whether we like it or not!”
Trying to enter into the spirit of the moment, Lisa gave Kacey a half smile and said, “Well, at least no one will ever recognize us!”
Kacey opened the door and they stepped outside, transformed. Lisa shivered, “Yikes! It’s cold!”
Kacey ignored her. “Well, let’s get hitchin.’”
Lisa put up her hand, “Okay, but here are the ground rules: First, no two-door cars. There have to be four doors to allow us to escape!”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake.”
But Lisa was adamant. “Second, no car where there’s more than just one guy in it. The odds have to be in our favor.”
“You’d think we’re going into combat!”
“Agreed?” Lisa asked, and Kacey nodded a reluctant agreement.
“Okay. Which way?” Lisa shivered again, but this time, not from the cold.
“We’re going south and east,” Kacey said, adding, “I think.”
Lisa did not respond but gave her friend a look as she fell into step.
Within ten minutes, they were riding in a 1967 Oldsmobile hardtop convertible driven by a young insurance agent on his way to meet a client. Stan was a nice enough guy who wasn’t very curious about the two of them. Just doing a good deed.
When Stan’s route diverged from theirs, they climbed out and began walking again. This time it was Dennis who picked them up in a ’68 Chevy Impala. He worked for Pillsbury and was on his way to a sales meeting in Chaska.
“Here’s where we part ways,” he said and pointed in the direction they should go.
Jeff, in a ’64 Datsun, carried them the last leg of the way. He was a grad student in political science at the University of Minnesota and the most talkative of the three. “So, where ya heading?”
Without missing a beat, Kacey replied, “We’re in town for the rock concert. We’re down from Grand Marais.”
“Ye
ah? What do you do in Grand Marais?”
“Oh, we’re commercial fishermen. We work the big trawlers on Superior. Salmon. Mostly salmon.” Lisa’s eyes got bigger as Kacey spoke.
“Wow!” he responded, incredulously. “I didn’t know women could do that! That must be tough work!”
“Tough, oh you bet!” Kacey said. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Lisa sat motionless and silent in the backseat. Jeff pulled to a stop at the edge of a vast muddied field filled with cars as far as the eye could see. “You’re on your own! Have fun!”
“Have you taken leave of all your senses?” Lisa hissed as Jeff drove away.
Before Kacey could answer, two men on Harleys roared up next to them.
“Heading for the music?” one of them shouted. Kacey nodded her head. “Hop on,” the other called out. “We can snake between all the cars and get you right up front!”
Lisa started to shake her head no as she backed up slightly, but Kacey grabbed her by the arm. “Hey, thanks!” she shouted back.
The men gunned their engines. “I’ll take the red one,” Kacey shouted to Lisa, giving her a push. “It goes with my outfit!” But as she approached the big bike, her bravado wavered. This was more than stuffing herself into a ridiculous outfit. How could she possibly sit behind this man, her body touching his, her arms around his waist for safety? It had been a long time since Kacey had put her arms around anyone other than her father and brothers. But even more, the thought of it made her mind fly back to Greg. Holding him. She remembered the smell of him.
Her biker had a long, dirty brown braid down his neck. His face was thin and weathered beneath the bandana tied around his head. He turned to her, “C’mon,” he called, “The music won’t wait for you!” He held out his hand to help her swing her leg over the saddle. His smile seemed harmless. Genuine. She climbed aboard.
“Thanks,” she murmured, as she reluctantly encircled his waist with her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want this experience to linger in her memory: The feel of the biker’s wiry frame under his leather jacket, the sight of her own hands on his body.
Lisa shook her head, this time in resignation, as she finally climbed aboard the black Harley, forcing herself to place her arms around the thick middle of the stranger sitting ahead of her. Kacey saw repugnance spread across Lisa’s face. She was glad she couldn’t read Lisa’s mind.
But the bikers did what they said they’d do and in no time, Kacey and Lisa could hear the pounding bass even over the roar of the Harleys, and the scene unfolded before them. Hundreds of people sprawled on the grass, a few on lawn chairs, others were sitting or lying on blankets. The two motorcycles slowed to a stop at the outer edge, and Kacey and Lisa climbed off, shouting their thanks to the drivers. “Hey,” the red Harley biker called back, “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do!”
Kacey shivered at the thought. The two quickly joined those sitting on the grass. It was tickly on their bare legs. Sitting in the midst of peace signs, tie-dyed T-shirts, headbands, ragged bell-bottoms, and bare feet, their own clothes no longer seemed out of place. Kacey took it all in, her gaze finally resting on the group on stage. “Who is it?” she asked.
“You’re asking me?” Lisa replied.
A young woman sitting next to them overheard the exchange. “You don’t know the Byrds? Where’ve you been?”
Kacey and Lisa did not respond. Just then the group burst into song:
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
there is a season (turn, turn, turn)
and a time for every purpose under heaven . . .
The two nuns looked at one another with huge grins across their faces. “Will ya listen to that?” Kacey shouted. “It’s an omen, right out of the book of Ecclesiastes!”
“Yep!” Lisa shouted back. “We were meant to be here!”
The applause was wild, with Kacey and Lisa clapping and whistling along with the crowd. All around them, young people were jumping to their feet, dancing feverishly, in a world of their own.
The smell of marijuana clung to the air, sweet and heady, coming even closer as the woman next to Lisa offered her a pull on her joint. Lisa took it in her fingers and held it for a moment. She looked at Kacey, unsure what to do, but Kacey shook her head. “Nope,” she said, “that’s going too far, even for me.” Lisa had a silly grin on her face. “Right,” she said reluctantly, “for me, too,” as she passed on it.
The Turtles took the stage next, with their beautiful tight harmonies:
Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it’s only right
to think about the girl you love and hold her tight.
So happy together . . .
Kacey sat with her arms around her knees, swaying to the music. Many were standing, arms uplifted in a prayerlike posture. It was mesmerizing. She wished they’d be offered another puff on the joint.
And then it was the Rascals, who leaped onto the stage and moved right into “A Beautiful Morning.” Kacey had heard the popular song before, but felt she was hearing it for the first time.
It’s a beautiful mornin’,
I think I’ll go outside a while,
And just smile.
Just take in some clean, fresh air, boy!
Ain’t no sense in staying inside . . .
She rose to her feet and swayed, mouthing the words to herself.
I’ve got to be on my way, now.
Ain’t no fun just hangin’ around,
I’ve got to cover ground, you couldn’t keep me down.
The music went on for another hour, the crowd growing more intense, more raucous. Finally, it was time to leave. “C’mon, Lisa, the party’s over.”
Lisa was reluctant. “Couldn’t we stay just another half hour?”
But Kacey insisted. “Nope, it’s a long way home. But what a trip, huh?”
“I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun,” Lisa agreed. “I don’t want it to end!”
Kacey stood up, “But it has to, so let’s go.”
“I don’t know why you’re being so hardnosed about it now,” Lisa said. “It was your idea in the first place, so what’s another hour?”
“It’s not just the time, Lisa. It’s—it’s getting too caught up in it. It’s almost too much fun!” Kacey’s own ambivalence frightened her. She felt both swept away and guilty. Trying to be lighthearted, she took Lisa’s hand, pulling her up from the ground. “C’mon,” she said, “we need to get out of here while the gettin’s good!”
They began the long walk back through the parking lot. Lisa jabbered, reliving the experience, but Kacey fell silent. The lyrics of the Rascals continued to play in her mind. It’s a beautiful mornin’, I think I’ll go outside a while . . . Ain’t no sense in stayin’ inside . . . Ain’t no sense in stayin’ inside . . . Ain’t no sense in staying inside. . . . She shuddered as she trudged along.
57
The two abandoned their “disguises” in a gas station restroom and changed back into wrinkled habits. It took several hitches before they got close to the convent, walking the rest of the way. They managed to sneak into the kitchen undetected late that afternoon, going directly to their rooms before supper.
The rock fest was now a week in the past. Lisa slid back into the routine with ease—it had been a lark, but it was over. Kacey struggled. Her head was often filled with the images: the wild tie-dyed colors; the shirtless men; long, untamed hair; the sweet smell of pot; the swaying, the dancing. But most of all, the music of the Rascals: It’s a beautiful mornin’, I think I’ll go outside for a while, and just smile . . .
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close out the sights and the sounds. Ain’t no sense in stayin’ inside . . . Kneeling in the small side chapel, she clasped her hands so tightly, her knuckles began to whiten. O Mother of Per
petual Help, she prayed, behold at your feet a wretched sinner who turns to you and puts all trust in you. Mother of Mercy, have pity on me!
Once again, she was praying that all-too familiar prayer.
Alas, it is but true, that in the past I have fallen miserably, because I did not turn to you—
She stopped and opened her eyes. Oh, who am I fooling? I don’t even mean this. Standing up, she walked slowly away.
“Psst!” Kacey didn’t need to turn to know who it was. She waited for Lisa to catch up. The sight of her friend could almost always bring a smile, but this day, it did not.
“Whaddya want?” Kacey asked in a whisper, her face revealing frustration. Lisa saw it.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“What do you want?” Kacey repeated.
“Well, I was looking for you. If we go help Sudsy clean tools in the barn, we can hear the Twins game. He’s got it on out there.”
“I don’t think so.”
Lisa was surprised. Kacey rarely gave up a chance to hear a game. Lisa tried to lure her. “Jim Kaat’s pitching. Your favorite!”
“No, I’ve gotta work on my catechism lessons for next week.”
They were nearing the rec room door. “Well, now I’ve heard everything! C’mon in here,” Lisa directed. “I want to talk to you.”
Several tables of sisters were playing bridge. A lively Scrabble game was going on at the far end. A free Saturday afternoon was always welcome, and the room was filled with good spirit. Lisa grabbed two decks of cards as she motioned Kacey away from the others. “Here,” she said, handing one deck to Kacey. “Shuffle. We’re going to play double solitaire.”
“I don’t want to!” Kacey’s irritation was growing.
“I get it, but we’re going to anyway. So we can talk! Now shuffle!”
Kacey began to shuffle.
“What’s going on?” Lisa demanded in a firm but low voice.
Kacey groaned. “It’s the damn Prayer to Our Lady of Perpetual Help!”
“What in the world?”
They began dealing the cards. Finally, Kacey spoke. “I’ve been having a rough time making the transition from rock festival groupie back to penitent sister.”