Chapter Four

 

 

Denise put her arm around her little sister and told her, “Well. I suppose we could look at this on the bright side.”

Amy looked shocked. “There is no bright side. We can’t find our husbands! We’ll never see them again!”

Her sister reassured her, “We’ll be running into them again soon, I just know it. In the meantime, let’s try to focus on how lucky we are to be hearing all these good bands again. Let’s head over to where the stage is and take a listen.”

Amy followed her reluctantly. They found a place in the crowd as Eric Burdon and The Animals played their song, “Sky Pilot.”

Denise said, “I hope they play ‘The House of the Rising Sun’.” Eric was putting on quite a show: he set off some smoke bombs, poured beer over his head to cool down, fell off the stage, and then danced with some teenyboppers.

Amy was excited to see him in person. She felt like that 13-year-old girl again who had written Eric Burton’s name all over her Pee Chees in the 8th grade. She said to herself, maybe he can see me standing here? It’s a good thing I wore my “concert clothes”.

The emcee for the concert came on stage and told the crowd that Sonny and Cher were up in a helicopter and would be dropping flowers on the crowd.

Denise and Amy looked up in the sky, along with everyone else. “Look! There it is,” Amy said, pointing at the helicopter.

After the flowers rained down on the crowd, the emcee announced that the next band to play was “Iron Butterfly.” Amy told her sister, “I hope they play ‘In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida’.” Her wish was granted when the psychedelic rock band opened their set with their greatest hit.

Neither sister could resist dancing and they both noticed some people having a giant cream pie fight. David Crosby from the Byrds was covered in whipped cream. Denise loved The Byrds and got as excited as any groupie might upon seeing him. “Shall we ask for an autograph?”

“Sure! Too bad we don’t have a pen or any paper.”

Denise said, “Oh, no! I think I left my purse in the photo booth. Shoot! We better go find it before somebody steals it.”

As they were making their way over to the booth, Amy saw a teenager with long red hair who was wearing denim overalls and no shirt. She pointed at him and told her sister, “That’s him! That’s Sandy! Thank God!”

She ran over to her future husband and threw her arms around him. Sandy looked confused as he pried her arms off his shoulders.

“Don’t you recognize me, Sandy?”

“How do you know my name?”

“You’re my husband.”

“What?!”

Amy finally realized what was happening. “I mean, you are my future husband.”

“Ah…okay.” He waited a few beats and asked, “Did you drop some of that windowpane acid that’s been going around?”

“You’re the second person who’s asked us that today.”

A teenager wearing a mailman’s shirt who appeared to be Sandy’s friend told Denise, “Hey! I like your blouse. Cool peace symbols.”

“Thanks! I made it myself.”

Amy questioned his friend. “Where’d you get that shirt? You’re too young to be a mailman.”

“I got it at the swap meet.”

“Isn’t illegal or something for you to be wearing it?”

“Not that I know of.” He and Sandy started laughing.

Trying to relate to them better, Amy told him, “Well, our Dad’s a mailman.”

“Cool job,” Sandy’s friend answered. “That is if you want to work for the man.”

Sandy tried to change the subject and asked Amy, “How do you like the concert?”

“It’s great, Sandy.”

“Who do you like the best so far?”

“It’s fun to see Eric Burton.”

“I like Country Joe and the Fish.”

“I like that protest song he sings: Be the first one on your block, to have you boy come home in a box.”

“Me, too.” He lit a cigarette and told her, “Man, I hope I don’t get drafted.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t,” she reassured him.

“Oh, really. And how would you know something like that.”

“I can predict the future.”

He laughed. “You’re a freaky chic. You know that?”

Changing the subject, Amy talked about Country Joe’s other hit. “I like the Fish Cheer, too. Imitating the song, she started shouting, “Give me an F!!”

Sandy answered, “Give me a U!!”

His friend hollered, “Give me a C!!”

Denise knew where this was going and interrupted, “That’s enough, you guys. We all know that song.” She told herself, I wish I didn’t always have to play the parent. Why can’t I be here with my friends, letting it all hang out?

Sandy told Amy, “You have good taste in music.”

“So do you,” Amy answered, feeling shy.

They both stood awkwardly until Sandy told her, “Well, maybe we’ll see you two again sometime.”

He and his friend started to walk away and Amy yelled, “Wait, Sandy! Don’t you want to hang out with us?”

“Larry has to get back to his job at the record store.”

“I wish you could stay.”

“So do I.”

She hugged him and watched as he walked away.

Denise looked on with worry. She didn’t know how well her delicate sister was going to deal with the oddities of time travel. She tried to think of something that would cheer her up and then asked, “What do you know about Sandy’s life before he met you?”

“You mean what he was like at 13 or 14?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Well, he told me that he was living in an apartment in Van Nuys with his Mom and his brother. His Dad worked for the fire department in Viet Nam.”

“So, his Dad was gone at the time?”

“Yeah. Then his Mom left. She ran off to Chowchilla to live with her new boyfriend.”

“And left her two sons to fend for themselves?”

“Pretty much.”

“Did Sandy and his brother have any money to pay the rent?”

“I don’t know. Sandy worked at a car wash. He stopped going to school. He was flunking out of all of his classes until his Dad came back from Viet Nam and saw how Sandy was living. He insisted that Sandy come to Tustin and live with him.”

“And when was this? How old was Sandy?”

“He was sixteen.”

Her sister believed that there was a silver lining to every cloud. She struggled to think of something to say to soothe her little sister. Then the right words came. “I know what this means. Sandy isn’t ready for you yet. He has to grow up under his Dad’s good influence before you two can get together.”

Amy seemed skeptical. “Okay…I guess.”

“Listen. Sandy has to move to Tustin first before you can meet him. Besides, would you be attracted to a high school dropout?”

“With him, yeah. But nobody else.”

Denise patted her sister’s shoulder. “Everything’s going to work out eventually. We just have to be patient.”

“Okay.”

“Come on. Let’s go see if we can find my purse.”

They made their way through crowds of teenagers and when they got back to the photo booth, they found it empty.

“Now what are we going to do?” Amy asked.

“Let’s try to find where the lost and found is.”

When they finally located it, the lady who worked there told them that some good Samaritan had found a purse in the booth and turned it in.

“Oh, that’s great!” Denise said.

“Not so fast,” the lady answered. “First, you must tell me what your name is, so I can check it against the driver’s license.”

Denise remembered to tell the lady her maiden name--the one that would be on her license during that time frame. The lady told them that the name matched the one on the license and handed the purse to Denise, who recognized it from the sixties. It was made of brown suede and had six inches of fringe hanging from the bottom of it.

The lady returned the purse to Denise and told her to be more careful next time.

As they walked away, Amy told her sister, “Great! Now you can call Paul on your cell.”

“I hate to tell you this, but this was my purse when I was 18. There were no such things as cell phones yet.”

“Oh, great! Now, what will we do?”

Denise was starting to feel a bit like Mary Poppins trying to be gay and positive all the time in front of the children. She told her sister, “This could be fun. We should look at it like it is a time capsule. Let’s see what it has inside.” She found a bench and led her sister over to it. When she opened the purse, she pulled out a big Kotex pad. “Well, I won’t be needing this anytime soon,” she joked.

Then she pulled out some Yardley lipstick called, “Slicker.” She asked Amy, “Remember the commercial?”

Amy sang the jingle, “Slicker over. Slicker under. Slicker alone.”

Denise laughed. “Isn’t it funny what we remember and what we don’t?”

“Remember Twiggy and Jean Shrimpton, the famous models?”

“Sure. I wanted to move to London and be just like them.”

“Me, too.”

Next, Denise took out some Wind Song cologne by Prince Matchabelli. “Oh yeah. I remember this.” She sprayed some on her wrist. “I haven’t smelled this for a long time. It sure takes me back.”

Amy grew tired of all the nostalgia and said, “Let’s go see if we can find a payphone. How much money do you have in your wallet, anyway?”

Denise opened a coin purse and was disappointed to find that she didn’t have a penny to her name. She told her sister, “I’m afraid we’re going to need to find someplace to stay tonight. It’s starting to get dark.”

“Where will we go?”

“To Mom and Dad’s.”

“Wow! That will be a trip. What about finding Paul and Sandy?”

“We’ll have to come back here tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she answered, feeling downhearted. “So, how are we going to get to Mom and Dad’s?”

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to hitch-hike.”