“It’s breakfast time,” he said.

Really? This day had gone on so long, it felt like five in the evening. He sat facing me, sliding his coffee across the laminate table. He was a tall guy, thin build, with longish scraggly brown hair and a beard. He wore bell-bottom jeans and a faded purple shirt under a brown corduroy jacket. My dad would call him a good-for-nothing hippie, but he had a smile that pulled at something in my chest.

His eyes were a bluish gray and his lips were pink. His name was Gary, and there was a kindness, an easy peacefulness to him that I envied.

“So, Richard,” he said. “What has you sitting alone in this here diner at this time of day? You waiting for someone?”

“Not a someone,” I answered with a shake of my head. “The 9:10 bus to New York City.”

“I love New York City,” he said, still smiling. “What’s an army guy going to the Big Apple for?”

I cocked my head. “Army? How did you…?”

“The bag at your feet.” He sipped his coffee. “Unless you stole it, but you don’t look like the stealing-government-property type of guy.”

I almost smiled. “I didn’t steal it.” I looked at the empty coffee cup and turned it in my hands. “I’ve finished my time at Fort Polk, Louisiana. I’ve just been home to see my folks and… and I leave New York for California in a few days.”

“What’s going on in California?” He seemed genuinely interested. “I always wanted to go.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m being deployed to Vietnam,” I said, damn near needing to push the words out.

“Oh, man,” he replied in a whisper. “I guess that explains why you were staring out the window.”

I tried to smile but it didn’t feel right.

“Saying goodbye to your folks must’ve been tough,” he furthered. “I can’t even imagine.”

“Yeah, well, they um…” I let out a long, slow breath. I was just about to divulge too much and stopped myself. “I was going to do some sightseeing in the city. You said you loved it. What’s a must-see?”

Gary stared at me for a beat too long. “You know, we’re heading to Woodstock. You know, The Aquarian Exposition—3 Days of Peace and Music,” he said like he was quoting some ad. “You should totally come with us. We have a spare ticket now because Colleen didn’t come. There’s enough food and a place to sleep.”

“I can’t. I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I’m leaving for New York City…”

“Do you have your ticket already?”

“No, I have a military pass…”

“Then you should totally come with us! You said you had a few days. When do you have to be in California?”

“I have to be in New York City for my flight on Monday.”

“There will be lines of buses leaving the festival every day. Come along just for one day if you want.”

Normally I would have said no, but after the last two days, and considering these would be my last few days on American soil for who knew how long, I actually considered it. But I didn’t know this guy or his friends. I glanced over to their table. They looked harmless enough, friendly even, for a bunch of hippies. “I don’t know if that’s really my scene.”

Gary just smiled. “If you’re going to war, all the more reason to come. If you’re fighting for freedom, for peace, then you gotta see what you’re fighting for, right? And I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna get all the way over to the other side of the world, trekking through the jungle and being shot at, with any regrets now, do you?”

I stared right at him, into those weird-colored gray eyes. If only he knew. I swallowed hard. The truth of his words felt like a gut punch. “Regret is… I um…”

Gary didn’t push me to finish. I wasn’t even sure I could. “Come with us. If nothing more than for some fresh air and music.” His friends made their way to the door and called his name. He gave them a nod, then turned back to me. “Don’t leave with any regrets. If you don’t wanna come with us, then go to New York City and promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“That one thing you want, but the one that scares you,” he replied. “Do it.” He slid out of the booth and stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Richard Ronsman. I hope I made your day a little brighter, like you made mine.” He turned, then stopped and faced me once more. “That old blue van with the white stripe?”

I followed his nod to the beat-up Ford Econoline in the lot.

“I’m just going to use the john,” he said. “So we’ll be leaving in about two minutes, if you wanna join us. No questions asked.”

He gave me a smile that made his eyes shine, a gentle dip of his head, and he turned and walked to the restrooms.

Could I? Get into a van with four total strangers and traipse off to some hippie music festival?

I’d always been the responsible one. I always strived for good grades, trying to make my dad happy. Nothing ever seemed to be good enough, not even joining the army was good enough, and Lord knew he would never, ever, approve of me being so irresponsible…

Gary walked out of the restroom and he gave me a frown when he saw I hadn’t moved. But he nodded, conceding defeat. “Good luck,” he said from across the diner and walked out. The bell at the door chimed with a finality that kicked up my heart rate.

I watched them laughing as they opened the doors to the van, and I knew I had to decide.

Everything was telling me it was such a foolish thing to do. Except my heart. Something told me I had to do this, that I’d regret not joining them.

I grabbed the bag at my feet, threw some money on the table, and raced out the door just as the van door was about to slide shut. “Gary, wait!” I yelled out.

The van door stopped and his smiling face appeared. I threw my bag to him and climbed into the van, smiling for what felt like the first time in weeks, to the strange faces staring back at me. “Um, hi,” I said, breathless. I sat next to Gary. His smile was genuine and warm, and I ignored the way my body reacted to him.

Like how I always ignored the way my body reacted to men instead of women.

“Guys,” Gary said. “This is Richard. He’s coming with us.”