Page 35 of And Still Her Voice
I looked around the room, growing more nervous as I recognized some of the musicians on the scene lately, some from posters hanging on the walls.
Trying to act all cool, I took a seat and pulled back the piano lid. After my brief stint at Steinway’s, I thought I knew what people wanted to hear and then just recently, there’d been a song on the radio being played over and over while we worked in the kitchen. It was by a local group and the words resonated with me. I played the first notes of “Somebody to Love” and this time I sang the words out loud.
I finished and the room fell silent. Mary stepped up and hugged me. Tears dripped down River’s cheeks.
And then Everett clapped and the others joined in. “Well, obviously you can sing,” he said, taking a seat next to me.
“What else you got?” asked a man I recognized as John from Lazarus Rising that played over at Kezar Stadium the day of the march. Everett stood and I played the next song, the one the band had performed about a girl taking a hit of fresh air.
John said, “It does sound better with piano.” He sorta creeped me out with his greasy long hair and beady eyes.
“And I think it sounds better with a girl,” Everett said, and I blushed.
“And she plays the guitar, too,” River added.
Soon, the group got to talking about what was happening out on the street and Vietnam, but River wanted to sing, so I accompanied him on the piano. We made quite a duo. Me playingstraight man to his eccentric style of singing and dancing, stirring something wicked in the crowd.
Later, up in my room, as I journaled about how everyone around talked about love and how I thought I’d finally found it, I was interrupted by clapping and turned to see River leaning on the doorjamb. “You were amazing down there,” he said, staring at my closed journal.
“Thank you. New lyrics,” I said off his look.
“A love song about Everett?” He stepped into the room.
Is he jealous? I wondered and then Grandma added, “I’ve warned you not to confuse lust with love.”
River searched my face. “Anyway, we made a good team. The whole thing just blew me away, like a psychedelic trip.”
“Thank you. A trip, huh?”
“I take it, you’ve never done LSD?”
I reached for the jelly jar of wine I’d brought up to the room with me. “No, I don’t need drugs to take a trip.” I sipped. I’d barely had my first experience with pot and that didn’t go so well. “What’s it like?” I asked, setting down my guitar.
“Well, it’s not just a trip. It can be kind of a spiritual search.” He plopped onto the bed, hands behind his head. “It’s a way of expanding your consciousness, embracing a higher one.”
“I already have two and the last thing I want is to embrace or expand another consciousness. I’m looking for a way to ditch one.”
He peered at me and laughed. “Two? You’re funny.”
“So, seriously, what’s it like?” I asked.
He sat up, reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes before getting up to walk over to the dresser to pick up an ashtray. He lit his cigarette, shaking out the match as he inhaled and then he stepped over some blankets to offer it to me. I’d rather have the matches, but I took the cig.
“The last time, it was really a beautiful trip, like an evolutionary journey.”
As he spoke, I exhaled, noticing theShroud of Turinon the wall behind Mary’s bed. The image of Jesus, the real one I’d learned about in catechism. Next to it sat a picture of Buddha, Saint Francis of Assisi, a Red Indian Chief, and some swami. I passed the cigarette back to River who took a seat in a chair across from me.
“I sort of felt paranoid,” River said. “I started running and then the trip really hit me.” He then exhaled. “It was like I lay down and died. I heard beautiful music, sort of like a choir of angels singing. It was a beautiful trip.” He laughed. “But I did a number on myself when I rolled in the dirt and fell in the ditch and went under a car where I kicked in the tires. I scarred up my feet and hands and my chest and back. It’s going away now.” He held out his hands.
“That sure doesn’t sound like any kind of trip I want to go on.”
“All I can say is if you do, be sure you’re in the right place to do it and try not to overdose. Have friends to watch you and keep you from hurting yourself. Then you’ll have a trip that’s out of this world.” He sank to the floor, sitting cross-legged at my feet.
“Wow. Thanks, River, I’ll keep all that in mind, but like I said, I don’t need drugs to take a trip. Besides, I’m already cursed.”
“That’s what you said the other night.” He leaned in, looking up at me. “Do tell.”
“You won’t believe me.”
