The community had certainly been transformed. Rock bands were plentiful. The Grateful Dead had bought a mansion here as had the Jefferson Airplane group.
As they drew near to Golden Gate Park, the atmosphere was charged. You could feel the excitement, sense the tension. Police cars cruised the area, hoping to keep the animals corralled. Young girls wore flowers in their hair and sold bouquets. Glenn visually undressed them all.
They decided to stop. Glenn parked, locked the car, and they strolled in. Jimmy carried both six-packs in a paper bag. As the fog closed in, they heard a ship’s horn out in the bay. Gulls cried as if trying to be heard over the raucous sounds from below. The birds were fighting a losing battle.
The two men entered the park and were bombarded by a cacophony of sounds. Individuals who thought they alone had found the profound meaning of the decade were shouting their messages. Some guitars played a soft melody; others blasted out hard rock. Jugglers vied for attention. A young girl with long brown hair sat beneath a tree, playing a sad tune on a flute. Many looked in need of a bath and a meal. Acid and grass were more available than was food.
Above the waist either sex might wear anything or nothing at all. Some girls, proud of their boobs, went topless. Some with tiny boobs went topless, too. Maybe the sunshine would help them grow.
As they wandered deeper into the park, they saw many couples embraced in the clutches of love, only partially concealed by bushes. It was as though the area had been set aside as a reservation and, so long as the inmates didn’t stray, they were left alone to satisfy what they considered to be basic needs.
Jimmy thought the park resembled a circus. Everywhere he looked, something was happening. There were jugglers and clowns, and music coming at them from all directions.
Glenn thought of it as a huge meat market. He was anxious to make a selection. Maybe a little rump roast, or breast of chick.
“Enjoy the view,” Jimmy said. “You don’t want any of these girls. There’s all kinds of disease down here. I don’t know much, but I know that.”
Glenn wasn’t ready to confide to Jimmy that he could spread a little infection around, too. After finishing one six-pack and starting on the other, they returned to the car. Glenn, who had done most of the drinking, was bug-eyed.
He opened the trunk and removed a brown bag. Inside the car, he glanced around to see if they were being observed. Satisfied, he pulled two revolvers out of the bag. Both were snubnosed. One was blue steel; the other a shiny chrome with a cracked handle grip.
Glenn pushed the shiny gun towards Jimmy. “This one’s got your name on it,” he said.
“What in the hell would I want with a gun?”
“Protection, man. Everywhere you look, there’s weird people. Never hurts to be prepared.”
“Where did you get it?”
“What difference does it make? Take it.”
Hesitantly, Jimmy took the gun in his hand. “Is it loaded?”
“I’ll load it for you. Ain’t no way you can protect yourself with an unloaded gun.”
Jimmy felt a certain amount of pride. This was the first pistol he’d ever owned.
Glenn took ammunition from a box and loaded the cylinder. Beside the glove compartment, under the dash, was a metal ledge with a curved lip. “Keep it up there,” he suggested. “Long as it don’t bounce out, nobody will ever know.”
Glenn plucked a leather pouch off the floor, placed his gun inside, and lay it between his feet. “Let’s see your gun. See if the safety is on.”
“Man, I know all about guns.” Jimmy didn’t want him to think he was a novice.
“Oh hell, yes! I’ll bet you’re some kind of an expert,” he said, looking at Jimmy and laughing. “Well, here’s how you hold it, sharpshooter.” He looked at Jimmy fumbling with the gun. “Now, where’s your pad?”
“Up ahead.”
Glenn parked outside a large house that had been divided into small apartments.
Jimmy gathered up the few items he needed, threw them into a duffel bag, and headed out.
“Where to now?” Glenn asked.
“Let’s stop off at the bar. I need to get some more money.”
As they were leaving the car, Glenn slipped his revolver out of its pouch and into a hip pocket.
“What in the world do you need that for?” Jimmy asked.
“Just for self-protection.”
They went into the bar together. Jimmy used the pay phone to call his boss. He told Troy he was going to be out of town for a few days and asked for some of the money owed him. Troy told him a couple of hundred would be sent within the hour.
Eric waited until Glenn had wandered off, then asked, “Who in the hell is that guy?”
“Like I said, I dunno. Jay somebody.”
“He looks like trouble to me.”
“You’re repeating yourself. Don’t sweat it, man.”
“Listen to me, Jimmy. I bet you two-to-one that if you go off with the old fart you’re gonna have more trouble than you’ve ever seen. I know the type.”
“Let it go, man. Give me a beer.”
A half hour later Jimmy’s money arrived and he was ready to head for Seattle. He found Glenn trying to make time with a blonde who seemed to be having some difficulty choosing between this new guy who was bigger and talked one heck of a line or staying with her escort who was a shrimp with a fat wallet. Before she could decide, Jimmy told Glenn they had to go right away.
“Dammit, John, you picked one hell of a time to hit the road. I was ready to get me some of that.”
“We’ll never get to Seattle if you go after that kind.” Jimmy swallowed hard and then said, “That guy can’t do you any good.”
“What guy, you asshole? I was after the blonde.”
“That’s the guy I’m talking about.”
Glenn stopped and gave Jimmy a hard look. “You’re putting me on.”
“You don’t believe me, go back and see for yourself.” “You mean I was trying to put the make on a man? He’s one hell of an impersonator, I’ll give him his due.”
“Yeah, he is.” Jimmy had no idea of the person’s sex but he suspected she was as female as any woman in San Francisco. From the looks of her, probably more than most. What mattered was he’d convinced Jay.
As they approached the car, Glenn said, “Hey man, how about sharing some of that money? I got things to buy before I get to Seattle.”
Jimmy wasn’t in any mood to take a bus or hitchhike. He peeled off three twenties and handed them to the old man. It looked as though this was going to be an expensive trip.
They both got into the car. Jimmy slumped down into the seat and fished a cigarette from the pack. He lit it thinking he didn’t care much for Jay, but the man was going to Seattle. The timing was just right. Jimmy was ready to put thoughts of the war behind him. He was ready for a new life.
In Portland, Oregon, Terrie Trina Tidwell, pretty, eighteen, and naive, had endured a troubled summer. She had lived with her mother and then, following a disagreement