TIME FOLLOWS ME

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN THE V.W. FREAKS

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE V.W. FREAKS

There were four “long-haired freaks” and me a “long-hair,” in the V.W. Van. They were total freaks, hippies and I was so happy and a little apprehensive.  They seemed like the real deal being in California, wearing beaded shirts of white gauze or bare-chested.  They asked me if I wanted to smoke and I said sure so we passed around some hash joints and got pretty high.  They were already very, very  high.  I could see one of the guy’s eyes was very red and blurry, but they were all laid back.  It must have been about “one-hundred, ten degrees” in the swelltering van as we motored along at top speed fifty miles an hour.

 “Where you been traveling from,” one of them asked?

“I’m just on the road, started in Canada and took a turn south in North Dakota, so here I am.”

Everyone was getting thirsty.  They told me they had been to the River sun bathing and swimming.  I thought that was a cool thing to do.  Get away from the city, whatever that was like.  The van needed gas so we pulled off the highway and into the first gas station.  The guys all said, “Lets go in and get some beers.”  I felt like I wanted to contribute to the beers so I gave them four bucks my spending money for the day.  They had been generous, sharing the ride with me and they seemed like good people.  I was almost in San Francisco anyway so I was starting to relax.

Once back on the highway we cracked open the tins of beers, the cans were sweating from going from the ice-cold refrigerator to the heat outside.  We must have had about twelve or sixteen beers.  The first one tasted delicious and went down fast, a can of Milwawkie or Budweiser, names I didn’t know and hadn't tasted.  We kept drinking the beers and the driver yelled, “Keep the beers down below the window if the cops come by.”  I don’t think any passed us.  We kept drinking the beers out of the brown paper bag and I noticed each one getting a little warmer.

“Where you staying when you get to Frisco?”

“I have the number of a friend’s Mother who I’m going to call,” I answered.

“Your friend’s Mother?,” and he laughed.

“You don’t want to spend your first night in San Francisco with a Mother,” he said.

“Why don’t you stay with us?  We’ll do some partying tonight and show you 'round and then you can go to your friend’s Mother.”

“Well, I’ll have to think about it."  I thought for less than a minute.  "Sure, that would be cool,” an expression I used a lot that summer.  I thought would I rather experience what these guys were doing who knew the city or hang out with Rich's Mum?  Hummmm...

We all laughed and I felt like I’d just joined some kind of caravan like maybe Van Morrison might have travelled in or traveling circus, or freaks as they called themselves.  So I was going to be a freak right along with them.

Then I was going to call Rich’s Mother, but she could wait for now.  I silently said my mantra that I would try everything and leave myself open to whatever came my way.  San Francisco was calling and I thought I knew the answer.