“Time to wake your dad and get ready for our game drive. It’s hard to believe that we’ve only got one more day left in Tanzania.”
“But you guys will have another two weeks in Namibia, and I’m sure that Reese will take me out into the bush in Kenya. It’s not over yet.” Alexa gathered her mother in her arms for a hug.
“Sorry that my curiosity stirred up all these bad memories. We’re supposed to be having the time of our lives, and my questions about Woodstock really brought you down.”
“I’m glad I told you. It’s not a secret. Your father knows the story, of course. But, now you’ll understand why I don’t talk about Woodstock. The bad vibe from that time has haunted me for years. You’re my only daughter. You should know what makes your mother tick.” Her mom managed a wry smile and kissed Alexa’s forehead before she strode toward the adjoining tent.
Chapter Twenty-seven
August 15, 1969
Tune in, turn on, and drop out.
“Look at all these people,” Sukie marveled to Nina as they walked down the dusty road, the morning sun beating on their backs. “I’ve never seen so many human beings in one place. Most of them are our age, but look—some people brought little kids.” She made a three hundred and sixty-degree turn, taking it all in. The shirtless boys perched on cars by the road. The young women with babies and naked toddlers sitting on a grassy bank. A host of others in bell-bottoms, fringed vests, granny glasses, long dresses, you name it, passed by them in steady flow.
“Nuns?” Nina directed Sukie’s attention to two women wearing habits.
“And that guy over there must be at least sixty.” Sukie hooted with laughter. “I can’t imagine my dad here.”
“Who’s that playing? Do you recognize him?” Nina stopped Sukie so they could listen. In the distance, on the main sound system, a man was singing. It sounded like he was warming up.
“Not really. Maybe Country Joe without the Fish? Where exactly did Brenda say their tent is?” Sukie raised an eyebrow at Nina’s harebrained scheme to find a friend from college.
“When I saw her at the hamburger stand yesterday, she said it was at the top of this hill. At least, I think it’s this hill.”
As they walked on, Sukie noticed a chain link fence bent to the ground. “Wonder what happened there?”
Before Nina could respond, a man in a pick-up truck pulled up next to them. “Could you help me pass out these programs?” He handed a stack of booklets to each of them and pointed to the fence. “People trampled down the fence. Thousands more are coming by car and on foot. We’re not going to take tickets. It’s a free concert.” He beeped his horn to part the crowd as the truck edged forward.
“I guess we don’t need our tickets anymore,” Nina groused.
“Not if it’s turned into a free concert. But I’m going to keep mine as a souvenir.”
“We could have saved eighteen bucks.”
Sukie looked at her watch. “Nina, it’s almost eleven. I don’t think we can find Brenda and get back in time to leave for the concert with our group. I think we should turn around.”
“You’re right. I’m hungry anyway. I want another one of those yummy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before we go to the concert.”
The girls retraced their footsteps, handing out programs randomly to people they passed. “I’ve only got ten left. We should keep one for every person in our gang.” Nina peered at the dwindling stack of programs in Sukie’s hands.
“I’ve got eight left. Let’s take these all back. We can give one to Willow and the rest to Levi’s group.”
Sukie shifted her position on the blanket and looked around for the hundredth time, amazed at the sea of humanity surrounding them. Because they had arrived at the concert site early, their group had snagged a great spot. They were about fifty yards from the stage with an unobstructed view. Levi Bloom, his bandmates, and their ladies sat with them. Even JJ and Eskimo had decided to stick with the group for the first day of music.
The aroma of patchouli, summer sweat, and marijuana formed a redolent cloud over the laid-back throng of hippies covering every square inch of the massive natural amphitheater. Sukie found the combination of exotic scents captivating. She took a deep breath and laughed. “We may as well save our weed for back at camp. I’m getting a contact high just sitting here.”
Ben looked at a group of boys on a nearby blanket. “Ain’t that the truth? Check out that bong.”
Phil elbowed Ben. “I learned about this in Psych 101. They call it bong envy.”
Nina ignored the boys as she stretched her arms. “OK, I am ready for this concert to get its ass in gear.”
“Working on a tan and getting high aren’t enough for you?” Sukie thrust her ivory-toned arm next to Nina’s dark brown one and wailed. “Why don’t I ever get a decent tan?”
Nina fanned her face with a flattened paper bag. “Better watch it. You know how you always get sunburned.”
The voice of the announcer came across the speakers. “The brown acid that is circulating around us isn’t specifically too good. It is suggested that you stay away from that.”
“Enough with the fucking brown acid. When is the concert going to start?” Ben fumed.
“Someone’s coming out on stage.” Sukie pointed.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Richie Havens.”
Nina turned to Sukie. “Did we see him at the Philadelphia Folk Festival?”
“I don’t think so.” Havens started to strum his guitar in a rhythmic pattern. When he began to sing, Sukie could hardly contain her excitement.
As dusk gathered, Sukie announced, “I can’t hold it any longer. Does anyone want to make the trek to the port-o-potties with me?”
“Go ahead.” Ben never took his eyes off the stage. “I’m digging this Incredible String Band. Can’t believe I don’t have one of their albums.”
“I’ll go.” Nina rolled up onto her knees. “Let’s figure out a few landmarks so we can find our way back.”
“We’re to the front of that big tower. And, I’d say, we’re directly back from the right corner of the stage.” Sukie gestured toward each marker as she spoke.
“Agree. I only hope we can find this spot again.”
Sukie stood and began navigating a path between groups of people on blankets or just sitting on the ground.
“I’m coming, too.” Willow grabbed a corner of Nina’s skirt, following the two older girls.
Excuse me, excuse me . . . excuse me.” Sukie sighed with relief when she reached the far edge of the crowd. She turned back to Nina and Willow. “What an ordeal.”
Nina pointed over Sukie’s shoulder. “Nothing compared to that.”
Sukie’s heart sank at the long lines extending out from each portable bathroom stall. She clamped her legs together and said, “The sooner we get in line, the better.”
During the long wait, Nina confided to Sukie, “I don’t think this is working with Phil. I’ve already lost him.”
“But you two seem to be getting it on. Maybe you’re overreacting.”
“I don’t think so. Sure, we’re having a great time. He’s digging this whole scene.” Nina twisted a curl around her finger.
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t just want to be the chick he balls because I’m there. I want him to love me or at least like me. I want a relationship.” Nina struggled to keep from crying.
Willow piped in. “I don’t get it. You have a guy who wants to be with you right now. Who cares about tomorrow?”
Sukie raised an eyebrow at the young teenager. “When did you become such a total hippie, Willow?”
“I don’t have any family except my mom—and she’s always with her men friends. My dad was one of her fly-by-night romances. Sometimes she says he was a Swedish diplomat. Other times, it’s a Swedish sailor. She named me Greta because Greta Garbo was the only Swedish actress she knew.”
Sukie kept one eye on the progress of the line. “Greta’s a nice name.”
/>
“I hate it. That’s why I chose Willow. I don’t want to be like my mom. But I wish I was old enough to have my own guy. I won’t care if he loves me as long as he wants to be with me.”
Sukie exchanged a sad glance with Nina. “Well, munchkin, I hope you find a man who loves you for a good, long time.”
The girl gave a wistful sigh. “I hope he’s as handsome as Eskimo.”
“Eskimo’s good looking, but he’s a little too old for you, Willow.” Above Willow’s head, Sukie mouthed to Nina, “And a real jerk.”
“I met another guy down at one of those shops in the woods. He’s dreamy, too. Long black hair he wears in a braid. He glides like a dancer. He wants me to come over later and get high with him.”
“Why don’t you just stay with us today, Willow? It’s the first day of the concert. Concentrate on the music.” Sukie remembered being boy-crazy when she was Willow’s age, but she hadn’t been on her own in a sea full of strange boys and men.
Nina must have been on the same wavelength. “You’re only fourteen, Willow. You’ve got plenty of time for boys. I’d think twice about hanging out with these older guys.”
“Finally.” Nina wrinkled her nose as she opened the port-o-potty door. “You go first, Willow. Make it quick.”
Sukie snorted. “I can’t imagine anyone spending any longer in there than necessary. I hate using these things.”
“Damn. We just got back and now it’s raining.” Drowsy from the drone of Ravi Shankar’s sitar, Sukie jolted awake when the raindrops hit her face. The first drops felt good against the sunburn. But the rain intensified, and she rummaged through her bag for her poncho. Like Sukie, the rest of the group had come equipped for a camping trip, so they all had ponchos or raincoats.
“What’s with these people? A lot of them didn’t bring food. Some of them didn’t even bring a raincoat. Haven’t they ever been camping?” Ben muttered in a low voice.
Sukie looked around to find that Ben was right. A lot of their neighbors held blankets over their heads. Others sat with no protection at all from the rain shower. Looking to the next blanket, she realized the Levi Bloom group hadn’t brought raincoats either. Willow had wormed her way beneath JJ’s poncho, but the rest of the group was getting soaked.
Levi shrugged at Sukie’s look of concern. “We’re from New York City. If it rains there, you just go inside. We’ve never spent a weekend outdoors.”
After some commotion onstage, the music ground to a halt. Someone announced they were going to postpone the music until the rain stopped.
“Ben. Are you ready to get out of here? I’m ready for a decent night’s sleep.”
“Sure, babe. This Indian music is bumming me out. And I’m cool with ditching Joan Baez. Are you sure you want to miss her?”
“Yeah. I’d like to hear every single performance, but we’ve got another two days. I’m fading fast.”
The entire group agreed to pack it in for the night. By the time they had assembled their belongings and navigated their way across the wet mass of people, the rain had ended.
“Finally.” Sukie rejoiced when she spied Levi Bloom’s bread truck. “Slogging across this wet field is no picnic.”
Robbie announced, “I am going to crash the minute I hit my tent.”
Eskimo scoffed. “Crash? No way, man. The night is still young. JJ and I are going to do buttons of peyote we bought off a cat from New Mexico. He said he got it from a shaman and that this shit will blow your mind.”
JJ nodded in excitement. “A real spiritual experience. That’s what the dude promised. We have some extra if anyone wants to fly with us.”
“Not for me.”
“Thanks, but I’m already too wasted.”
One by one the rest of the group begged off.
“I’ll try some.” Willow, bedraggled from the rain, sidled up to Eskimo with a hopeful expression on her face.
“Why not?” Eskimo shrugged his shoulders.
“No way, little one.” Levi grabbed Willow’s arm and steered her toward his truck. “You need to get some sleep with the rest of my ladies.”
Sukie and Ben both headed immediately for their sleeping bags when they hit camp.
“Today was a real blast, except for the rain . . .” Ben’s voice trailed off into sleep.
Sukie lay awake for a few minutes, reviewing the exciting day. The campsite had fallen silent. In the stillness, a brief snatch of conversation leaked from one of the other tents. It sounded like JJ and Eskimo.
“How many did you take?”
“Two.”
“Give me two buttons.”
“We would have had enough for Willow.”
“Get her tripping out and . . . that little . . .”
Sukie strained to hear but couldn’t catch any more of JJ and Eskimo’s conversation. As she drifted off to sleep, Sukie couldn’t shake a feeling of unease about Eskimo’s interest in young Willow.
Chapter Twenty-eight
WITH HER NEW KENYAN VISA in hand, Alexa stood at the baggage claim waiting for her single bag to slide down the chute. She had parted company with her parents at the Kilimanjaro Airport and hopped an hour-long flight to Nairobi.
“There it is,” she exclaimed and wormed her way through the sweaty crowd just in time to pluck her bright green duffel from the belt before it passed. Hoisting the strap over her shoulder, Alexa adjusted her small backpack and headed out the door.
“I’m Alexa Williams,” she called, making her way toward a slight young man holding a sign with her name. He wore fashionable blue jeans and a crisp white shirt with a logo on the chest pocket.
“Jambo, miss. I am Daniel Mututho from Mara Safaris. Let me take your bag. I hope your flight was pleasant, miss?”
Alexa nodded, shook his outstretched hand, and handed over her duffel. “Nice to meet you, Daniel.”
“The car is waiting outside. Did you want to stop for a small bite to eat or should we take you directly to Wilson?”
“Wilson is the other airport, right? How long will it take to get there?”
“We will see, miss. Perhaps an hour in this traffic, but we have time to stop if you are hungry.”
“No, I’m fine. I have a snack in my backpack.” Alexa followed Daniel through the crowded airport. She recalled that there had been a fire here a year or so ago. Now all flights were going through the domestic terminal. Daniel came to a halt in a lobby area to let a large group of emaciated people shuffle by. The long line of men, women, and children all toted white bags with a big blue logo that said OIM above the small typed words: Organization for Immigrant Migration. Some also carried rectangular blue plaid plastic bags as suitcases.
“Daniel, who are those people?”
“Miss, they be refugees. Maybe from Somalia.”
“They all look like they could use a good meal. I hope they are headed to safe new homes.”
Daniel continued toward the exit doors after the refugees passed by. “Yes, miss. They be the lucky ones. They’re getting out of the camps.”
Settled in the van, Alexa watched Nairobi flow by outside the car window. The streets teemed with vendors and shoppers. She was surprised by the walls topped with barbed wire and shards of glass in the residential neighborhoods. Daniel kept up a running commentary, pointing out landmarks and discussing life in the city.
Alexa only listened with half an ear as she fought the butterflies in her stomach. She silently acknowledged, I am so looking forward to seeing Reese. But does he truly want to see me?
“Miss, you have traveled far to see your friend in Samburu. He must be yako mpenzi—your boyfriend?”
“We’ll see, Daniel. We’ll see.”
The small plane began its descent into the Samburu airport in Northern Kenya. Alexa noticed that the terrain below looked sandy and dry. She looked up in consternation when the plane banked and gained more altitude.
“Standard procedure,” the sun-weathered man across the aisle spoke. “They do a pass to make sure
the runway is clear of animals before they land. Colliding with an elephant wouldn’t be good for the elephant or for us.”
“Makes sense.” Alexa tried to place his accent, which seemed British but not quite. The idea of elephants on the runway secretly delighted Alexa.
“Would you be Reese Michaels’ friend?” The khaki-clad stranger asked as the plane taxied down the dirt runway.
“Yes. I’m Alexa Williams. How did you know I’m visiting Reese?”
“Process of elimination.” His sardonic gaze swept up and down the aisle at the other passengers: two African men in guayabera type shirts and two French couples who wore their safari clothes with effortless chic. “Sorry. I’m Anthony Kent. I manage Archer’s, one of the tented camps up here in the Reserve. Reese had mentioned you might take this flight.”
“Nice to meet you.” Alexa looped her backpack over her right shoulder and moved toward the exit. A wall of dry heat brought her to a brief halt when she stepped outside. As she reached the bottom of the steps, she spotted lanky Reese walking across the dirt runway toward the plane. Brown curls burnished by the sun, he towered above the others gathered to meet the plane, Westerners and Africans alike. At the sight of Reese, Alexa’s heart soared.
Alexa hurried toward this man she had once loved—and maybe still did. For a moment, she hesitated, unexpectedly shy at confronting Reese after several months apart.
Reese ducked around the four French travelers, who seemed to be struggling to maintain their sang froid in the face of several persistent tribal women hawking beaded necklaces. When he spotted Alexa, Reese’s face broke into a wide smile, and he rushed toward her.
“Hey.” Alexa’s throat was so constricted that her greeting came out in a hoarse whisper.
“Hey, yourself.” Reese scooped Alexa into his arms and lifted her into the air, backpack and all. “It is unbelievably wonderful to see you. Here. In Kenya.”
When he deposited her back on the rough track, Alexa responded. “I’ve missed you, Reese. Look at you, all tan and handsome. You’ve got a real Indiana Jones vibe going. The khaki, the bandana, the sun-streaked hair. I like it.”
Dead of Summer Page 15
