Tonight my Shitzu is laying by my feet snoring. It's raining outside and has been for a good while. It made me think back to a summer's night in 1975. It was the beginning of a new chapter in my life and I'd like to share it with you.
It was raining steadily at the entrance to the Massachusetts Turnpike outside of Springfield. I was eastbound heading to Martha's Vineyard. I'd left Montreal early that morning, lucked up and gotten a ride all the way to this little duggout maybe forty paces from the toll kiosks. I don't know who had the foresight to erect that shelter, but I was glad for it! Two other hitchhikers sat there, waiting out the storm. They appeared to be sixteen or so and talked me into getting out my guitar. We were enjoying a few tunes together when a girl came walking up, hair plastered to her head, singing the words to the song. We quit singing, although I kept playing, utterly astonished. Her voice was so clear and pleasing to the ear. Her inflections and timing were beyond reproach. At the end of the song, there was silence as my new found friend Roo and I gazed at each other. Shortly thereafter, the other two boys got a ride. They'd been waiting longer than me. There ARE manners on the road.
Roo and I did a few more covers and in bits and pieces, I learned she did the coffeehouse circuit and sang in clubs when her age wasn't an issue. She wasn't a raving beauty, but she could call the birds down from the trees with her voice. She was going to Westport, Maine to visit friends. We finally got a ride and chattered all the way to Boston.
At four in the morning we cavorted on the Boston Commons, until we got hungry. We found a diner that served the night people. Any city has one. Cab drivers, vendors, whores, all were accepted and fed for a nominal fee. Under the buzzing fluorescents in the diner, Roo dawdled with her food, pushing it around her plate. I asked if she was OK.
"I guess you're going on to the Vineyard." She paused and frowned at her plate. "I've had a good time, Ted. Any chance you might want to come to Maine with me?" Her question came out with a rush, the words tumbling by like rapids over the rocks.
My heart leapt. I hadn't wanted to invite myself along and couldn't think of a way to broach the subject without the whole thing being very awkward. I was drawn to her easy nature. I wasn't sure what she looked like under her rain poncho, but I remember it was a secondary consideration at best. I'd found a friend, we liked the same kinds of music and did I say how she could sing?
We were two half soaked vagabonds riding the subway out of the town along with commuters going to the airport. When we could see I-95, we got off and resumed our thumbing. We got to Westport at dusk. We were relly worn out and I was glad to use her friend's shower and get some sleep. I'd been awake since Montreal, Quebec two days earlier.
I awoke the next morning with the sun shining in through the window. I heard water running in the kitchen and birds chirping in the scraggly pines outside. Roo's head was against my shoulder, her hair covering most of her face. The sunlight seemed to ignite her hair with brilliant tones of red and copper. I watched the sunlight play on the strands, waxing golden, waning browns. She'd covered us at some point during the night. Westport cools off well at night I supposed. I lifted the covers to ease out of the bed, glancing back to make sure I wasn't disturbing her. I saw her shoulder, no bra strap, just perfect peaches and cream skin. I could see the dimple under her chin, the babyfat in her soft round arm and the side of her breast. I sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, groggy still.
Thrusting temptation aside, I stood, dressed and left the room. I smiled to myself in the mirror in the bathroom. Patience is patience worth. What beautiful skin! I fought back the desire to take maybe one more look.
Roo's friends were downstairs and unfortuneately they weren't coffeee drinkers. They directed me to a Dunkin Donuts just down the block. (The mug I'm drinking from as I write this story came from there!) I left word for Roo where I was and presently she appeared. Her hair was still wet from her shower. She'd awoken finding me absent and nearly panicked. I was touched that she cared that much. Anyway, our visit in Maine was short lived. Her friends were off to Halifax shortly and needed to catch an earlier ferry. They dropped us at I-95 at mid afternoon and we were back on the road.
We finally got a ride with some hippies in a Volvo and were rolling through New Hampshire at dusk. Roo and I were in back, talking and watching the skies darkening. I forget what I said, but on impulse, Roo pulled my head down to hers and softly, ever so softly, kissed me. I reached up and held her head as we began our first exploration of each other's mouths. What had begun almost tentatively became more primal as trust was established. She caught my hand with hers and with fingers intertwined pressed my palm to her breast.
I could feel the lace of her bra through the faded peasant blouse. I could feel her heart pounding beneath. A quick glance at the rear view mirror revealed no interest from the driver. A hand on my thigh, Roo locking eyes with me, then running her tongue across her lips. Slow. Very slow. Lights from an off ramp suddenly bright. The hippies were nearly home. I emerged stiff and swollen. The tailights of the Volvo disappeared in the deepening gloom, leaving us looking for our next ride.
Two o'clock in the morning found us staring down an empty turnpike somewhere east of Springfield. We'd gotten a ride with the pastor of a small town church who was returning from Boston after visiting a hospitalized parishioner. His was the very last car on that road. Riding with the pastor, we kept darting looks between us. It was so incongruous how Roo would say something sweetly innocent to me while giving me a scorching look with her eyes!
It's strange to have an entire turnpike to yourself. A light haze of fog was beginning to rise from the grass along the roadsides. A chorus of crickets chirped and we heard an owl in the forest behind the security fencing. There was no moon but I could dimly make out the hills of the surrounding countryside. We stood in the gravel at the shoulder, waiting. Nothing. Nobody. Roo turned and grinned.
