Peace Love Music Read online

  Peace Love Music

  By

  Cornelia Amiri

  Eternal Press

  A division of Damnation Books, LLC.

  P.O. Box 3931

  Santa Rosa, CA 95402-9998

  www.eternalpress.biz

  Peace Love Music

  by Cornelia Amiri

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-61572-375-1

  Print ISBN: 978-1-61572-376-8

  Cover art by: Amanda Kelsey

  Edited by: Pam Slade

  Copyedited by: Sherri Good

  Copyright 2011 Cornelia Amiri

  Printed in the United States of America

  Worldwide Electronic & Digital Rights

  1st North American and UK Print Rights

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form, including digital and electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  In memory of Jose Montes a friend and artist who loved to live sketch earth and peace dances. When I think of the type of people at Woodstock, I think of him.

  I also dedicate this book to Genie, Andi, and Alice my dear friends of the Houston Bookcrossing Meetup, you all embody the peace, love, and music spirit of Woodstock.

  In acknowledgment of their dedication, consideration, hard work, and talent I want to thank the Eternal Press staff and Editor, Pam Slade and Cover Artist, Amanda Kelsey. This book wouldn’t be the same without them.

  Woodstock Arts and Music Festival–1969

  Day One

  “Thanks for the ride.” Jodi stepped out of the car clutching the bulky green sleeping roll. She discovered it in her foster-parents’ closet. It was the only thing she asked them for, and the only thing they’d given her to start a new life. A small string purse was folded inside and it held enough money for her ticket and her prize possession, two photos of her parents before they died.

  She flipped her thumb out to catch another set of wheels. Soon a dirty white van with the Chevy bow tie emblem pulled up. Jodi laughed. Freaks or hippies, a whole van full, the type of people she was looking for. They’d be headed her way.

  A tall, skinny guy with bushy black hair and a thick beard jumped out. “Sorry sister, no room inside. You’re welcome on top.”

  She nodded. “Cool.”

  Stooped down next to the van, he cupped his hand like a stirrup. Jodi stuck her bare foot on his palm and he boosted her to the roof.

  Once she was on top, she scooted over to sit by a chick in bell bottom blue jeans and a tie-dyed tee. Her long brown hair blew in the wind.

  “Hi, I’m Jodi.”

  “Name’s Robin. Where you from?”

  “The Bronx. Read an ad in the Village Voice.” She pinched the wayward strands that blew in front of her eyes and shoved them behind her ear. “Knew I had to come.”

  Robin leaned closer. “Heard about it from friends, but when they came to pick me up, my parents had a major blow-out and locked me in my room.”

  Jodi shook her head. “Bad scene.” A surge of jealousy shot through her as she thought, parents. She’d lost her world when her family died in a car crash.

  “Yeah, I snuck out and thumbed it this far. I’m from Rhode Island.”

  “Groovy.” It was all Jodi could think to say. She hated being shy and always at a loss for words, since her parents deaths had left her alone. Now with her last birthday, she’d outgrown the foster family scene. Truly on her own. She blinked as her blonde hair whipped her face in the wind. The sun warmed her skin as the van rolled down the crowded highway to the Woodstock festival and the first adventure of her adult life. The van came to a standstill, stalled in traffic as the road transformed into a massive parking lot. Jodi climbed off the roof after Robin. The air crackled with energy as she took the final leap to the paved street. High on adrenaline, Jodi chatted with her new friend as they trotted down the road toward the festival. “Janis will be there.”

  “The Who, man, also Pete Townsend…Keith Moon,” Robin drew out the last name as if she was overcome with a fit of passion.

  “Maybe Dylan.” Oh, please, please, Jodi thought. “The troubadour, man–cool–music, nature, freedom.” Every step took Jodi closer toward the festival field. She jangled with excitement inside. A whole weekend, just chilling, grooving to the music.

  They walked down a street bursting with people, hundreds, pressing against them, slowing them down. Some hippies, others clean-cut, high school kids, college kids, boys, girls, men, and women. Moving closer to the festival, Jodi’s focus shifted from the surrounding crowd to the magic marker and cardboard signs on the tables they passed, boasting hash, LSD and mescaline for sale.

  She turned her head when Robin shrieked as if she’d spotted Mick Jagger. A chick grabbed the girl’s arm and pulled her into a hug.

  “It’s my friends I told you about,” Robin squealed.

  She and the two girls looked almost alike to Jodi. All had straight brown hair, all in tie-dyed shirts of the same colors, pink, purple, and blue, which they must have made together.

  Jodi flashed a smile at Robin’s friends. “Hi.”

  “Come with us,” Robin said.

  Jodi didn’t fit in the picture. More of a loner than one of the three musketeers, she said, “No, man, it’s your scene. You go on. I’ve got friends here, too. Stay cool.”

  “Groovy. Nice meeting you.”

  Jodi clutched her sleeping roll against her chest as Robin and her chums disappeared. She thought, I’m used to being alone. I’m fine by myself. After all, I’m all I’ve got.

  Swept up with the throng, Jodi headed toward the ticket booth, hoping they weren’t sold out.

  A long-haired guy wearing an unbuttoned green khaki army shirt, revealing his bare chest and a string of love beads dangling from his neck, called, “Hey, sister, pass it on, the festival’s free. No tickets needed.”

  “Far out,” she replied as the press of the crowd pushed her onward, a few more blocks up the road, and over to the right. After following a mass of people over a small fence knocked to the ground, then up over a grassy hill, Jodi stopped and blinked her eyes. Thousands, tens of thousands of people covered the hill and field.

  Glimpsing the massive stage and the huge speakers, she tingled at the thought of the music that’d soon be blaring from them. She spotted a few guys perched high on the towering yellow scaffolding to grab a better view.

  Now that she’d finally made it, her feet felt heavy and her legs ached. So weary she could hardly breathe, she still managed to smile at all the beautiful people she passed as she trudged on. Guys in striped shirts with hair cut above their ears, some in t-shirts and turtlenecks with shoulder length hair, those in tie-dye tees, and no shirts, hair hanging past their butts. Chicks in granny skirts, others in shorts, some in jeans, short hair, long hair, headbands, leather hats, flowers in their hair, daisies painted on their faces.

  Cold droplets of rain hit Jodi as she discovered a small yellow tent. It looked like a little sun shining in the sudden down pour. The flap was open, with no one inside. She bent down, crawled into the dry, yellow shelter and shut the flap. Soft paisley Indian-design blankets and comfortable tasseled pillows lay inside for her use.

&
nbsp; Jodi spread out her sleeping roll. Whoever had pitched the tent must be listening to the music. If she lay down for an hour, they’d never know. Dropping down onto the soft sleeping roll, she curled up and shut her eyes. Jodi drifted off into a sudden slumber.

  * * * *

  “Hey, I’m hungry. Where’d you stash the sunflower seeds? Wow…babe, some chick crashed in our tent.”

  Jodi woke to the loud voice, to find a bare-chested man with love beads around his neck, staring at her as he asked, “Have you seen our sunflower seeds?”

  “Ziggy, they’re in the duffle bag. I told you that when we were walking back here, geez.” A thin, oval-faced woman with long brown hair and a thin leather headband around her forehead bent over Jodi. “Hi, my name’s Sunshine and this is my old man, Ziggy.” The woman smiled.

  “Hi, little sister,” the man greeted her. “You want some?” he held out a paper bag of salted seeds.

  Jodi pushed herself to a seated position and scooted off the sleeping bag. “Please, I’m sorry.” She grabbed the end of it and rolled it back up. “I didn’t mean to break into your tent. I was so tired and it had started to rain. Please, you’ll never see me again. I promise.” She pulled two of the strings to tie the bedroll tight again. “I didn’t eat any of the sunflower seeds. I swear.”

  “Hang loose.” The girl flashed a bright smile. “We’re here like everyone else to groove on the music and the love. Stay with us, share our tent, man. Is it cool?”

  Jodi stopped tying up the sleeping bag.

  “Yeah, you’re our guest.” The man reached out and unfolded Jodi’s bedroll.

  “Cool.” Jodi returned his warm smile. “I’d like to crash here.” She moved back to sit on her green sleeping bag.

  “Far out. Where are you headed after the festival?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll keep thumbing. Nothing to go back to, moving on.” Her alone and homeless issue spilled out. She didn’t know these people but their sincere, open smiles made her feel safe and comfortable.

  “Heavy.” Ziggy scooted over to an old, faded blue duffle bag and slipped the packet of salted sunflowers seeds into it.

  “Live for today, Jodi.” Sunshine adjusted her long legs into a lotus position. “So will you share our tent?”

  “Sure.” She had nowhere else to go. “Thanks.”

  Sunshine reached out and hugged her. Then Ziggy did the same. Jodi felt the happiest she’d been in a long time, squeezed between their warm embrace. Friends and shelter from the rain, and she’d gotten here safely.

  Sunshine grabbed a large tinted bottle. “Strawberry wine.” She twisted off the top, took a swig, then passed it to Jodi.

  “Far out.” It‘d been almost a full day since she’d eaten or drunk anything. She brushed her long hair to the back of her neck and took a slow gulp. Her tongue soaked up the sugary berry flavor and she relaxed as the mellow heat streamed through her. She passed the bottle to Ziggy.

  He tilted his head back and took a long draw of the red wine, then set the bottle down.

  Sunshine and Ziggy leaned closer and pressed their lips together in a passionate kiss. Jodi watched Sunshine reach to the back of her neck and untie her blue halter top, then unravel the second knot underneath her breasts. The skimpy blouse fell onto the India-print blanket.

  Jodi noticed Sunshine’s breasts were almost twice as full as hers. She felt her cheeks burn, and she knew she was blushing. Ziggy stretched his legs out, grabbed the waist of his jeans, unsnapped and unzipped them, then shoved them to his ankles and kicked them off his bare feet. Jodi gasped, ready to bolt out of the tent and give them privacy. Then her gaze fell on the fully-engorged member between his legs. She glanced at Sunshine, then saw her grab his erection and brush her hand up and down its length as Ziggy moaned.

  Music from the stage at the bottom of the hill trickled to Jodi’s ears. The festival. That was why she’d come here. With Ziggy and Sunshine so intimately occupied, they didn’t seem to know she was there. Jodi felt like an intruder. Well, she thought, I did sneak into their tent.

  “I’m going to find a seat as close to the stage as I can and groove to the music. I’ll be back to crash with you later.”

  Sunshine had her jeans off now as well.

  Jodi called out, “Bye,” as she crawled from the tent and into the dark night.

  * * * *

  Though dusk had fallen, the rain had let up. Jodi trekked to the hill she’d passed earlier. The slope down it and the bowl of the field around the stage brimmed with a swell of people as numerous as the blades of grass they sat on. All of them were young and had come for three days of peace and music.

  As Jodi looked for a spot to sit down, she joined the crowd’s chant, “No rain, no rain, no rain.”

  Jodi felt someone touch her hand, she glanced down to see a chick with long black hair and bangs scoot over, leaving a little patch of grass.

  “Thanks.” Jodi sat and crossed her legs Indian-style.

  The dark-haired chick puffed on a straw pipe emitting a heady, clinging aroma and passed it to Jodi, who took a drag, then handed it to the girl with short blonde hair sitting by her.

  When the crowd roared, Jodi jerked her head toward the stage. She was close enough to recognize Arlo Guthrie with his bushy brown hair.

  Jodi laughed with everyone else when Arlo looked out into the crowd and said, “Lots of freaks.”

  Jodi rocked her body to the beat as the singer-songwriter strummed and sang, “Coming into Los Angeles. Don’t check my bags if you please, Mister Custom man.” After the song ended, when the applause died down, Arlo said, “I don’t know if you can dig how many people are here. New York State freeway is closed. Far out. We’re a force.”

  “A force.” Jodi nodded as she took a swig from a bottle of Ripple making the rounds, then passed it to the short-haired blonde girl in the denim work shirt embroidered with bright flowers.

  When Arlo’s set ended, Jodi and the crowd seemed swallowed up in the dark. Someone on stage called out, “Everyone light a match.”

  Jodi scanned the crowd, taking in thousands of magic lights flickering across the hillside. “Beautiful,” she said aloud.

  She peered out at the sea of people, who thundered with applause as Joan Baez greeted the crowd, “Good Morning.”

  Jodi knew then it was after midnight, already Saturday.

  “You know, this festival is really quite extraordinary in every way,” Joan said, and then she introduced a resistance song, saying it was a good theme song for anyone. “One day at a time, I dream one dream at a time.”

  Jeffrey Shurtleff’s low, masculine voice added to the tune as he sang with Joan Baez. “Yesterday’s dead and tomorrow is blind.” He belted out on his own, “Swallow flying across a cloudy sky, searching for a patch of sun so high.”

  When Joan Baez sang Sweet Sir Galahad, Jodi gulped. The beauty of the lyrics and her voice took Jodi’s breath away. When Joan went into Sweet Chariot a cappella, tears rimmed Jodi’s eyes and she sang, “Coming for to carry me home,” along with her. Jodi had no home, now that she’d turned eighteen two days ago. She no longer qualified for foster care, but she would make a home for herself somehow.

  A downpour broke from the sky as Joan Baez sang, “We shall overcome someday.” The chill down Jodi’s back wasn’t from the rain. When Joan belted out, in her crystal clear voice, “We are not afraid, Oh Lord. We are not afraid, Oh Lord, not afraid today,” Jodi felt the words vibrate through her. Even in the cold rain, a warm glow fluttered in Jodi’s chest.

  The girl with long black hair and bangs clutched Jodi’s hand, while she reached out to the blonde-haired chick in the denim shirt. The entire row held hands and danced in a grapevine line, around and around. They were a flowing river, moving together. Laughter spilled from Jodi when they sped up, and other times the line o
f dancers suddenly slowed. They all laughed as they danced to the music.

  Peace filled Jodi. She didn’t think she would ever stop smiling. When the dancing came to an end, she took a deep breath and met the gaze of a guy standing before her. His eyes drew her. They were different, it was too dark to see the color, but even at night they seemed to gleam and call to her. He had long, sandy brown hair and a wide-open smile that emphasized his full, seductive lips. Jodi wondered what they would feel like, and taste like if she stole a kiss from him. His broad shoulders filled out his pale green t-shirt, he wore a brown leather vest over it, and tight faded jeans encased his long legs and slim hips. A red band was tied around his muscular forearm. She felt she knew him, but she must have been losing it, as it didn’t make sense.

  “Hi, I’m Blue. Are you camping out here?”

  “Yes, crashing with some friends.” She pointed in the general direction of Sunshine and Ziggy’s tent.

  He pulled a flashlight from his jeans pocket and smoothly clicked it on. “I can help you find your way back.”

  Jodi gazed into the depths of his magnetic eyes. “Why, are you camped over there too?”

  “No, my pad’s a tepee.” Blue laughed. “I’m with the hog farm.”

  “Cool. I think I do need some help finding my friends’ tent.”

  “Always glad to help a lady.” Clutching the flashlight, he shone little patches of light on the grass. “Try to watch where you step. You’re barefoot.”

  “Yeah, I am.” Her feet felt sore, too. “I was so tired earlier, now I don’t even know if I can sleep.”

  He let out a warm chuckle. “I hope I can. I’ve got to get up early, I’m part of the please force.”

  “The what force? I didn’t hear what you said.”

  He released a full-hearted chuckle. “Security for the festival. Hugh calls it a please force; we’re non-confrontational.”

  “Heavy.” It was all she could think to say. She hated being shy, but she couldn’t think around this guy. She just grinned and gawked as currents of heat coursed through her. He looked so natural in a grassy field in the rain, for he stood as tall and straight as a pine tree. As he walked with her, his long hair swayed with an easy grace. She had this strange feeling she’d wandered through meadows with him before, but that didn’t make any sense.