Summer's Child

Fortunate Son

"I am not their son! I am His son! As you are his daughter." Mack looked around the crowd, his gaze a pointed finger, and Harry felt as though their eye contact was long, that it filled the pause in the impassioned speech the man with the piercing blue eyes made standing just above those listening. It wasn't, really. Still, Harry could feel the collectively held breath.
They all felt like the preacher was looking at them.

"Those people, my earthly parents, they did not understand me, my generation, as your parents did not understand you. They did not not want me to be free. They had plans for me, of course.  Big plans, long plans, empty plans.  Plans full of flesh, and money, and traditions. But my real father, my brother, my spirit, he wanted me to be free. Of all those bonds, my brothers and sisters, we, the children of summer, offer you long days lived in the light and truth of the sun." He stopped then, and gestured to the sky, the grass, the trees, and the white clad ladies behind him. "We offer you love, unconditional for all and free."  He looked right at Harry, a basilik haze descended, riveted, before he realized Mack's gaze was actually focused on the small girl in front of him. "I offer you me, free and without judgment, if you would only offer me you!" He extended his hand and Harry saw the girl swoon and respond to the curl of fingers like a snake to the flute. Her hand looked tiny, and pale as it was covered by tan skin.

She stepped onto the podium, and Mack kissed her on the cheek, the eyes, and finally the lips. Her knees gave out and she was guided to the ladies behind the electrified eyes that held the crowd. It seemed to be the end of the service, like a wedding. Mack had picked a bride.

It was then that Harry was able to let his eyes go over the girls, the other girls, who had held Mack aloft, not been risen up. He'd nearly forgotten them in the last hour though they had been his immediate aim. It had been his plan to scope them out, all of the children of summer, see if Jillian was among them and ask about her, maybe, if the moment seemed right; show her picture.  Instead he had become one with the crowd and taken part in the service. The girls seemed most approachable before he'd been transfixed. Just a group of ladies laughing and moving about, setting up, with a few oddities. The same outfit for one, lack of shoes for two. Intricate flower crowns fit for the Tolkien he'd loved his dad to read to him.

So, the white ladies had seemed not normal, but approachable. Before their leader floated over them. Now, he was nervous to approach anybody, but he'd bet the girls were still a better bet.

Besides, Harry could see activity all around him. He needed to move now, before everything changed again. The couple on the stage seemed to be caught somewhere between praying and kissing, the guitar man was strumming a familiar Beatles tune, and the girls were passing something through their numbers to the newbies. It was a plate, a dinner one with a chipped blue rim. Filling with some speed from the out turned pockets of the flower children around him. When it passed, Harry took a scan of it's contents; crumpled dollar bills, three joints, and some paper squares.

Tabs of Acid; Harry had avoided that so far.

It was a magpie collection plate. It seemed people gave whatever they had, but everything they had. There were white triangle turned out of blue all around him.

There was a ruckus and Harry looked up from his observations to see Mack being lifted from the platform onto the ground and surrounded by the people who he had just enchanted. He'd spread his arms like a plane, the people had come beneath him, and he was swallowed by them. The handful of guys were taller than him, the girls on their tippy toes sometimes the same size. Mack went from person to person. The scene played out a bit like the Ed Sullivan show, except the screams were gasps and Mack did the touching, the recipients the fainting. The ladies at the back, the sun bearers, he guessed, were cleaning up the baby's breath they had thrown and counting the dollar bills, one tall blonde's head bent over the count. Each seemed busy at a task. Harry was also observing them, another sort of magpie collection. There were girls of all types. He saw one sneakily put a tab on her tongue after a furtive cast of eyes to her companions. They didn't catch it, but he did. She looked up and found him watching and yelped. Then checked to be sure no one heard her response.