And to think, only a year ago, Rain would have gone inside the bar to flirt, with the hope of meeting a guy who’d put her in one of those boxes. Not anymore. She did a little shimmy as she passed, making sure that her boobs jiggled and her hips swayed through her shirt and bell-bottoms. You can look, but you can’t touch.
As they walked into Up Against the Wall, Bobby, the owner, nodded at them. He was gaunt and morose-looking and always dressed in black. The smell of grass overlaid with patchouli oil wafted through the shop.
Rain planted herself at the counter, but Alix started browsing. Hearing her gush over the hookahs, day-glo posters, and clothes, Rain realized Alix was a shopper. Not Rain. She couldn’t deal with crass materialism. She’d go in, buy what she needed, and leave.
“This is better than Woolworth’s.” Alix picked up a beaded bag decorated with a psychedelic design and fringe. Fringe was everywhere: on pillows, jackets, vests, bags. She smiled at Bobby.
“You better believe it.” Bobby smiled back. When Alix smiled, even a stone returned it. “Looking for something in particular?”
Alix looked over at Rain, who answered for her. “Maybe.”
Bobby threw her a quizzical look.
“Alix is an artist.”
“Far out.”
“It’s very far out. She’s working on jewelry now, and her designs are incredible. We think you should sell them.”
They’d brainstormed the idea the night before. Next month’s rent was looming, and everyone had to fork over their share. Payton and Teddy promised to come up with their thirty dollars, although they didn’t say how. Rain figured she would sell The Seed on the street. But when Rain asked how Alix would make rent, she just shrugged.
“She paid the whole thing last month,” Teddy said. “She should get a pass.”
Payton frowned. “That’s not the way a collective works. No one gets special treatment.”
“Then we should pay her back for last month,” Rain said. “Pro-rated, of course.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alix said quietly. “I understand where Payton’s coming from. I’ll pay my share. I’ll find a job.”
“I thought you had plenty of bread,” Teddy said. “Well, enough, to send Dar to India, anyway.”
Alix’s cheeks colored. “I … well, I had this trust fund. But it looks like … ”
“Trust fund?” Payton’s eyes narrowed.
“When I turned eighteen, I got control of the trust fund my parents set up for me. But … ”
Rain stared at her. “You’re a trust fund baby?”
“I thought … Dar said he would tell you … ” Alix’s voice trailed off.
Rain searched her memory. Alix Kerr. Where did she know that name? Who was her family? She sucked in a breath. “Holy shit. Are you Kerr’s department store? On State Street?”
“Guilty,” Alix said softly.
“Well, consider me totally freaked out,” Teddy said.
“Dar said he’d tell you.” She shot them an imploring look.
“Well, he didn’t.” Rain averted her gaze. “And to think I was feeling sorry for you because you couldn’t pay the rent.”
“Hold on. Before you go around making judgments, you need to know what happened.” Alix’s voice strengthened. “I called and tried to get money yesterday … for the rent … but some woman at the bank told me I didn’t have the authority. Someone—my father, probably—blocked my access to it.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” Teddy asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You should.”
“Well, I don’t. And rubbing it in won’t help.”
“Why would your father stop you from using your own money?” Rain asked.
Alix looked down. “Because he doesn’t approve of my staying in Chicago.”
“You told him?” Teddy sat up.
“I called my mother. She said he freaked out. But that’s okay.” Alix shrugged. “Why? Isn’t your family pissed off?”
Teddy scratched his cheek. “They don’t know.”
“Shit, Teddy,” Rain said. “What’s the good of taking a stand if no one knows you’re taking it?” She glanced over at Payton. He’d been quiet since Alix dropped her bomb. “What do you think, Payton?”
Payton didn’t say anything at first, then, “We’re a collective. Everyone works. Everyone shares. Including Alix.” He looked at everyone in turn. “But it’s not necessary to break off contact with your parents. You never know when they might prove useful.” He paused. “So, Alix,” he asked in a distinctly kinder voice, “what kind of work are you going to do?”
Now, in the store, Bobby arched his brows and crossed his arms. He might be hip, and he might have the hots for Alix—didn’t everyone, Rain sighed—but he was still a businessman. “Got any samples?”
“Not yet,” Alix said a little too quickly. “But I will. I’ve been designing … er, for a while.”
“Well, when you have them, bring ’em in. I’ll take a look.”
The door opened and two young women walked in, arms around each other.
“Peace,” one of the women said. Her short hair was the color of straw, and though it was a hot September day, she was wearing a black leather jacket and jeans.
“What’s happenin’, Donna?” Bobby said.
“Not much.” She squeezed the shoulder of the other woman, who had long, straight brown hair and was wearing a paisley granny dress. A gold cross hung from a chain around her neck.
Rain made it a point not to stare, but Alix’s frank examination of them was embarrassing. They’re just lesbians, Rain wanted to tell her. Stop gawking.
Bobby seemed to sense the awkwardness. “Alix and Rain, meet Donna and Linda.”
“We’re getting married,” Linda giggled. Her feet were bare, and she looked high enough to take off from O’Hare. She leaned over and kissed Donna on the lips.
“Far out,” Rain said, not knowing what else to say.
Linda didn’t seem to notice her unease. “We found this little park, right around the corner,” she said dreamily. “We’re going to have the ceremony there. And we know this far-out guru—he’s really old, but he’s spiritual, you know? He said he’d marry us. At the end of the month. Then we’re all going back to our place to pig out. You’re invited, Bobby.” She faced Rain and Alix. “You too, if you want.”
“Um … well … ” Rain stammered.
Bobby glanced at Alix, then the two women. “You lovebirds get a ring yet?”
Donna shook her head.
Rain arched her eyebrows, and Bobby stared hard at Alix. When she didn’t respond, Rain gave her a little shove.
Alix got it. “I … I make jewelry,” she said tentatively. “Maybe I could make you a ring.”
“For real?” Donna looked over.
Alix nodded and flashed them a shy smile.
Donna nudged Linda. “What do you think?”
“Far fuckin’ out,” Linda said dreamily.
“What are you looking for?” Alix asked.
Donna and Linda took a minute to confer. Then, Donna said, “We want to do our own thing, you know? Something different. Unique.”
“Something that symbolizes our love and commitment,” Linda cut in. “That we’re two people becoming one.” She gazed up at Donna.
“Bobby, do you have a piece of paper and pen?” Alix asked. Bobby handed them over. She leaned over the counter and started drawing. A moment later, she held up a sketch of a ring with a braided design. It looked like a simpler version of the Celtic knot she’d drawn for Payton.
Donna and Linda inspected it. Then Linda handed it back. “Far fuckin’ out!” She beamed. Even Rain, who didn’t know the first thing about jewelry, smiled.
Donna straightened up. “How much?”
Alix turned to Rain. “Well, uh … I hadn’t really … ”
“You want real gold?” Rain cut in.
Linda and Donna exchanged glances, then nodded.
Rain d
id some calculations. “Fifty dollars.” Even with a cut to Bobby, that would more than pay Alix’s share of the rent.
“If you can deliver it by the end of the week, you got a deal,” Donna said.
“Really?” Alix asked eagerly.
Donna nodded, and they exchanged addresses—neither Donna nor Linda had a phone—and promised to return to the store for a fitting in three days. After the two women left, Alix started to thank Bobby.
He held up a warning finger. “These are my friends. It’s gotta be good,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Alix breathed. “It will be the best piece I’ve ever done.”
It’ll be the only piece you’ve ever done, Rain thought.
After leaving the store, Rain headed south on Wells. Alix trotted after her. “Hey, wait up, Rain.” Rain slowed. When Alix caught up, she said, “Thanks for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I did it for all of us,” she said in a flat voice. “You know, the collective.”
“I get it. Hey, do you realize this will be the first time I’ll ever been paid for my work?”
“No way. You did some babysitting, right? Sold Girl Scout cookies? Had a lemonade stand?”
Alix shook her head.
Rain picked up her pace. “That’s right. I forgot. You’re rich.”
“Rain, wait,” Alix said. Rain kept going. “Don’t be that way. Please, talk to me.”
Rain wheeled around. “Okay. Here it is. You’ve been pretending to be one thing, when in reality you’re another. In my book, that’s about as hypocritical as it gets.”
“That’s not true. I told Dar the night we met. I was scared to tell the rest of you. He said he would.”
But Rain was adamant. “You’re part of the ruling class. You’re everything we’re … well … trying to destroy.”
Alix took a breath. “Listen, Rain. Just because I come from money doesn’t mean I don’t care about the war. Or the society we’ve become. If you shun me, you’re doing everything you say you don’t want to. Everyone’s welcome. As long as they contribute. Isn’t that what you and Payton believe?”
“But … but … you know nothing of the struggle.”
“And you do? And Payton? Or Teddy? Come on. We’re not laboring in the rice paddies of Vietnam. Or struggling in the ghetto. We’re kids whose parents could afford to send us to college. Except for Dar.”
She had a point, Rain conceded. Still. Just because Dar considered Alix his reclamation project didn’t mean she had to. “Why aren’t you back with mommy and daddy in Indiana?”
Alix’s face closed. “It was time for me to take a stand.”
“What kind of stand does a rich girl take?”
Alix looked around, saw a bench at a bus stop and sat down. She patted the empty space next to her. “I want to tell you a story.”
Rain reluctantly joined her.
“Earlier this summer—I’d just gotten home from college—a boy I used to know came to my house. His name was Jimmy Smith. We went to public school together from kindergarten ’til sixth grade—before my parents switched me to private school. Our house was right across the street from the school. It was a big white house. With a swimming pool in back. Jimmy lived a mile away in … well … it wasn’t a great neighborhood.
“So, the doorbell rings, and I open it. And there he is in his full dress army uniform. Hat, brass buttons, those little colored flags on his pocket, the whole thing. Right out of the blue. After we said hi, he tells me he just came back from a tour in Vietnam. And re-enlisted for another. He wanted to share that with me.”
Rain felt her eyes widen. “What did you say?”
“I asked him why me? And you know what he said?” Alix blinked. “He said he’d had a crush on me ever since kindergarten. And he wanted me to know he’d amounted to something.”
“And he figured he’d accomplished that by enlisting?”
Alix nodded. “After that, how could I say anything? I just smiled and told him I was proud of him.” Her eyes got a faraway look. “Six months later he was killed.”
Rain didn’t say anything.
“We need to let people know what this war is doing to boys like Jimmy Smith. Boys who really believe in this country. Who want to better themselves by doing their duty. That’s why I came to Chicago.” Alix’s gaze focused. “What about you? Why did you come?”
Rain made a soft noise in her throat. “My boyfriend was asked to be the youth coordinator for Bobby Kennedy’s campaign. He … we … were going to drop out of school for a semester and do it together. I was so excited. I mean … to work on a national campaign … and for Bobby Kennedy! Then Kennedy was killed, and nothing mattered any more.” She looked up. “We have to stop this war. Bobby would have.”
Alix was quiet. Then, “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“We broke up,” Rain said tersely. She got up and motioned for Alix to follow.
“Where are we going?”
“The El.”
“Why?”
“You’re gonna need supplies for your jewelry. I know a place on Jewelers Row.”
“Really? I’ve never been on the El.”
“Then this is your lucky day.”
TWENTY–SEVEN
There’s a period of time in the Midwest that is relentlessly gray and gloomy, as if nature is taking a break after the fire and splendor of autumn—it’s called November, Casey thought. He and Dar came back from India at the beginning of the month.
Consciousness raised meant that consciousness could be lost. Dar meditated twice a day, but otherwise was at loose ends. He made no effort to reconnect with the Movement and took a job at a Wells Street bookstore. Casey didn’t know if his disenchantment was triggered by the trip or by Alix.
Since their return, the two of them were inseparable, often disappearing into the bedroom and closing the door. When he wasn’t at the bookstore, Dar seemed content to help her with her jewelry business, which, to everyone’s surprise, was thriving.
Casey had never been much of a political animal. He took a job at a nearby Chinese restaurant. Rain was working twelve hours a day, taking photos for The Seed and selling the newspapers on the street. Payton, who kept pressuring them to read Soul on Ice, claimed to be working with the Black Panthers. He didn’t seem to have a job, at least one that Casey knew about, but he always seemed to come up with cash at the last minute. Casey figured he was dealing. Teddy was in and out, never really saying what he was up to, but money didn’t seem to be a problem for him either. Casey wondered if he was getting ready to take off. People were always coming and going—dropping in, crashing, then heading out, usually to Berkeley or the Haight. Or drifting back into the straight world.
For Casey the presidential election was almost an afterthought—a burp in a parallel world that had little to do with them. Neither candidate was acceptable, they all agreed, but Humphrey was marginally more tolerable. Still, neither Humphrey nor Nixon would make much difference in terms of the war, and when Nixon won, no one was shocked.
The weekend after the election Teddy asked Casey, Dar, and Payton to go to Wisconsin.
“Why do you want to go home?” Casey asked, slurping the won ton soup he’d brought home.
“The school called when I didn’t show up last semester. My father’s pissed, and he’s demanding we have a face-to-face.” Teddy leaned against the kitchen wall. “Payton says we shouldn’t cut our ties to family. He says they can be useful.”
“How do you figure, Payton?” Casey asked Payton, who was lying on the couch. “We’re doing exactly what they don’t want us to.”
“If we play our cards right, his father could supply us with provisions, shelter, maybe even money,” Payton answered. “And what’s he going to do to Teddy if all of us are with him? He’ll be outnumbered.”
And might not be able to talk Teddy into going back to school, Casey thought.
Payton addressed Dar, who was on the floor sorting beads. “You’re co
ming too, right?”
Dar looked up. “Depends what Alix is doing.”
“She hawks jewelry on Maxwell Street every weekend.”
Despite the fact he’d been in India for a month, Dar looked puzzled, even a little irritated that Payton knew more about Alix’s life than he did.
“You need to get back with the program, man,” Payton said. “A weekend in the country is just the ticket.”
The four of them arrived in Madison late Friday night. The traffic out of Chicago was miserable, and the bus seemed to stop at every town along I-90. Teddy, usually the talkative one, was quiet and jiggled his feet the entire way.
They took a cab to the house. On a private beach by Lake Monona just outside the city, the house was all redwood and glass, with balconies on three levels. You had to drive through a strip of woods to find it. The Markhams probably weren’t in Alix Kerr’s league, Casey thought, but they more than met the establishment’s criteria for affluence.
Judge Stephen Markham greeted them at the door. He looked like a man with little else but power to recommend him. Watery blue eyes, bushy eyebrows, hair just turning gray. He was only about five ten, but held himself ramrod straight. Either he’d served in the military or he had a very stiff pole up his ass.
He and Teddy didn’t hug, just nodded at each other. After introductions, the judge led them down a long marble hallway lined with large windows that overlooked the lake.
There was no Mrs. Markham—his parents had divorced years ago, Teddy said. The judge’s housekeeper, a cheerful heavyset black woman, cooked for them, heaping roast chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, and gravy on plates in the kitchen. She had the whitest teeth Casey had ever seen. Payton wanted to smoke a joint afterwards, but Teddy said they were expected in the study.
“Expected?” Payton’s eyebrows arched.
“It’s time for our audience,” Teddy said, trying to be cool, but Casey heard the edge in his voice.
They filed into a room that could have been a movie set. Dark wood, soft lighting, heavy drapes, oil paintings of ships in rough seas. Judge Markham sat at a polished mahogany desk in a leather chair, watching TV. He zapped the set off when they entered and put down a remote control. Casey was impressed. Not many people had the new TV controller. As the judge swiveled to face them, he picked up a pipe, then made a show of tapping the edge against a glass ashtray, filling and lighting it. The scent of cherry tobacco gradually filled the air.
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