Chapter Thirteen

-- December, 1969

Led Zeppelin – “Babe, I’m Gonna Leave You”

He dreamed of a spring day when he was little, when he and his mother were having a picnic. Bill couldn’t have been more than two at the time, laying in a pram on a checkered blanket. Sandra smiled as big as the world as she attended to him, covering her face every so often to play peek-a-boo. When William called to her from the house though, she stood with a start. Running for the house, she left Bill on his own.

From the tree line they came; all manner of vermin: weasels and rats, foxes and jackals, badgers and ferrets, sniffing their way to the picnic. Their teeth and claws dug into the baby blanket and together they dragged the bassinette into the dark forest.

Bill woke suddenly in his dorm room at Dillard House. He wasn’t alone. The girl with the glasses from last night, the only one willing to go home with him from the bar, slept next to him. He peeled back the sheets, tentatively. When he saw that he’d pissed himself, he looked like he wanted to die. He didn’t have time to consider his options though. The girl was waking.

Bill laid back down and clamped his eyes shut tight. The co-ed stretched and yawned unaware, rolling out of the bed to use the hall bathroom. When Bill was sure she was gone, he rose quickly, eyes darting about the room as if a solution might present itself.

In the end, he decided to just lock the door.

**

Days later, back home in the alcove formed by the overhanging kitchen above, Bill and his friends stood outside the basement door smoking a quick joint. It was freezing outside. Not that you could tell by looking at Cody. All he had on was a ratty, Led zeppelin t-shirt and shorts.

“Aren’t you cold?” Janet asked. “You never wear a jacket when we come outside....”

Cody took a bogart of a rip and spoke while exhaling. “Am I doing fuckin’ manual labor out here? No! We’ll be back inside soon enough.” Janet shook her head as Cody passed to Bill. “So, how you liking UVA, Bill? I hear southern girls are wild in bed...”

Bill turned red. He was saved from having to answer when J.B. butted in. “You want girls? There’s a happening next month you guys should really be involved in!”

Everyone groaned. “Stop trying to radicalize us, J.B.” Maggie warned her brother.

“You haven’t even heard what it is! I’m gonna go down to the enlistment center on fourth and main and hold up a sign that says: sign up for war crimes here.”

“John, we’re not going anywhere with you!” Janet said, backing Maggie up.

“Don’t be a fascist, Janet! Let them answer for themselves!” But the others quickly agreed with her.

“You’re all traitors...” J.B. mumbled, taking one last hit. “Anybody want the rest of this?”

Cody shook his head. “No, stub it out, we’ll finish it later.”

They headed back indoors, grateful for the heat. They were gone for mere seconds when Nick jumped down from where he was hiding in the rafters. He grabbed what was left of their roach and split.

Once inside, the gang took their seats back around the T.V. Maggie returned to the couch though to find all the spots taken up. “Where am I supposed to sit?!” she demanded. When no one moved, she declared, “Oh, here’s a spot!” and plopped herself down onto Glen’s lap, much to the amusement of everyone but Janet. Glen was only too willing to play along.

Maggie adored the attention. She wiggled around trying to get comfortable. “I feel like this chair was a lot softer when I first sat down... but now it’s kind of hard...” She bopped up and down a few times, smiling. Janet shot daggers at her best friend, but Maggie didn’t even notice.

Nearest to the set, Cody turned the television on. J.B. immediately balked at what was on the screen: Nixon in the Rose garden. “Can we watch something else? I’m really not in the mood to be lied to.”

“Come on, I thought you liked the daughter.” Matt said, his arm around Janet.

“Who, Tricia? Yeah, but her dad’s all religious so you know he’d have to watch.”

Matt warned him. “You should be careful. You never know who’s listening...”

“Oh, please! What’re they gonna do? Send me to Vietnam?! I’m just articulating the popular rage. That son of a bitch hasn’t said word one about troop withdrawals...” J.B. appeared sated for the moment, when he suddenly yelled, “And how the hell could he pardon William Calley! They raped and scalped people! They killed babies!”

He looked around the room to apathetic faces. “Guys, I can’t be the only person who cares about this...”

“Well, what do you want us to do about it, J.B?!” Glen wanted to know.

“I don’t know - care?! Something! Instead of nothing, which is what all of you are dead set on doing! You didn’t come to the Central Park Be-In or the March on the U.N. or the Spring Mobilization Conference--”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Glen cut his list off, demanding, “Why is it up to us?!”

“Because we can’t count on the politicians - every time one has a fighting chance, they drive an intern off a fucking bridge! Now be the silent majority and join me!”

His friends blew raspberries and heckled him until he got to his feet. “You know what?!” he said. “I don’t need this!” Washing his hands of them, J.B. stormed upstairs.

“What a loon...” Bill chuckled, as the basement door slammed shut.

Janet sighed. “I don’t know, Bill. He’s got a point...”

“Watch your tone, sissy, or I’ll sic Glen on you!”

“No, I don’t beat women, I just fuck ‘em.”

Janet rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s charming...”

“The fuck do you care?!”

“You pretend like you’re joking, but you’re clearly not.”

“Hey, I believe a woman’s place is in the bedroom--”

“--You’re disgusting!” Janet stood up, in protest.

Matt tried to stop her. “Janet, don’t go! It’s Glen - he says bone-headed things!”

Glen scoffed. “I say well-researched things.”

Matt caught up with his girlfriend near the back door. “Why is this bothering you?”

“Why isn’t it bothering you?!” Janet demanded before stomping outside.

Matt stood there watching her go. Cody finally asked, “you goin’ after her?”

But Matt just shook his head. “Fuck it. Let her stew. I’m gonna get a beer, anybody else want?” A couple hands raised. Matt took a count and headed upstairs.

When the room quieted some, Cody pulled his arms into his shirt, noting, “Is anyone else freezing?!” He looked about the room, but no one seemed to agree with him. Cody sat their miffed, until he noticed something. “Hey... where’s John?”

Bill looked up, alarmed. “Oh no...”

Upstairs, William Benson found himself trapped at his kitchen table by a ranting J.B. “What about Rudolf Abel?” the kid demanded.

William slapped the table. “WHAT ABOUT HIM?! Who is this boy--?!” He called out to anyone who could hear him, but no one interceded.

He rubbed his temples as John continued: “Sir, have you read all seventeen volumes of the Warren Report?”

“NO ONE HAS! Earl Warren hasn’t even read it!” William hollered down the basement stairs, “Bill, your communist friend is upstairs again!”

He tried to lose the kid by crossing to the fridge, but J.B. just followed him. “Adlai Stevenson was attacked in Dallas by General Walker’s goons right after Walker was shot at in his house by a man that the Warren Commission later identifies as Lee Harvey Oswald - don’t tell me that’s not connected to the JFK assassination!”

William slammed the fridge door and turned to face him. “Look, maybe when you experience life outside of high school your opinion might matter.”

“Well, I got into college...”

“Oh yeah? What illustrious center for higher learning let you in?”

“I’m going to Harvard in the fall.”

William stared at him, mouth agape. “Harvard?”

“Yes.”

“Harvard University?”

“Yeah.”

“You got into Harvard University?”

“You say it like it’s a hard thing to do.”

“You’re the silliest person I know, and you got into Harvard?!”

“It’s really not that big a deal.”

William shook his head, at a loss for words. He began to back away as J.B. followed him. They fled the room as Matt emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands. He had to move quickly to let J.B. and William through. He watched them go, amused, then leaned into the fridge to find the case of Miller High Life he brought.

Mr. Benson had forgot to turn the kitchen television off. Matt half-watched as CBS News called out draft notices for the second time. As Roger Mudd reported live, Matt turned his t-shirt into a canopy and started to load up on beers.

Behind him, the T.V. set was barely audible, but he still managed to hear September 14th called out. Matt breathed a sigh of “fuck.” He stared blindly into the fridge until the program finally went to an ad for Norelco. As Santa sledded around on a portable electric razor, Matt slowly put the beers back, one-by-one.

**

Out by the basement door, Janet wrapped herself in a button-up sweater, pulling it tight to block out the cold.

“The fuck was that about?” came a voice from behind her. It was Glen.

Janet turned to face him. “What do you think it was about?!”

“I think you want two guys to be in love with you at the same time. But I’m not biting.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re such a narcissist! I’m not in love with you!”

“Whatever you say. This is all getting... a little too serious.”

“Why are you doing this?” Janet asked.

“Doing what? All I came out here to say was that I’m gonna go away for a while. Maybe see the coast…” He combed his hair and stared at the horizon.

“I am so sick of your hippie bullshit!” Janet roared. “Who am I supposed to talk to now? Have you thought about that?”

“How about your boyfriend? You can tell him anything right?”

Glen turned heel and headed back inside, leaving her there with her thoughts. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction, Janet waited until he was gone before wiping the tears from her eyes. She took a moment to collect herself before she too returned to the basement.

She found her boyfriend sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead. Janet slid in next to him, trying to seem casual. “Hey, where’d you go?”

He looked up at her briefly, not really seeing her.

“I think we should break up,” he said.

**

In the woods nearby, sitting on a tree stump, Nick pulled out the roach he stole from his brother and sister. He struck one of the overly long fireplace matches he took from home on the tree stump. It lit brightly and he had to hold it away from his body until it calmed before he could light the joint. When he took a first hit, he didn’t cough because he was used to smoking cigarettes. But he did wonder how long he was supposed to wait to feel anything.

He looked up at the sun-drenched canopy above him and closed one eye and then the other. If anything, he felt impatient for the drugs to work. He hoped they’d kick in soon because he was feeling really happy all of a sudden and wanted to add to this amazing day...

When Nick got home, his mother was waiting for him. She was sitting at the table they ate breakfast at, smoking cigarettes in a flower blouse and lavender vest. In front of her, Nick noticed with some horror one of his sketch pads. Sandra leafed through it, haphazardly. Inside there were pictures he’d drawn of naked women, but with exaggerated areolas and distended breasts. How could he explain to his mother that he was just trying something out?

“I was putting away your laundry and I was quite surprised to come across this stuff,” she said, looking Nick in the eyes. He refused to meet her gaze. “When I see things like this, I can only come to one conclusion...”

She trailed off and remained quiet until Nick finally looked up, ashamed.

“My son is an artist.” Sandra said, her face blooming in pride.

It wasn’t until that very moment that Nick realized how high out of her mind she was on pills. He didn’t know how to respond, so he let his mother beam. “I mean, look at this work – the sensitivity, the scope... you’re drawing nudes at the level of a college student! Whatever you need – art classes, a private teacher - your father and I will take care of it. I’m really floored by all this, Nicky, and so, so proud!” She threw her arms around her son.

He let himself be held.