I didn’t miss the strange look Lyman gave Kathryn in the front seat, and I was pretty sure Richard didn’t miss it either. But what I also didn’t miss was the smile on Richard’s face. It was like he’d freed himself from his cage of responsibility, just for a day or two. It was a sight far removed from the sullen man staring out the window just a few minutes ago.

I made quick introductions, and everyone gave a nod and mumbled hellos as Lyman pulled out of the lot and back onto the road. Kathryn unfolded the map again and was discussing with Lyman which roads to take, and soon enough, we were on our way.

“So, Gary,” Pauly said. “You from around here? I mean, I’m guessing you are. Otherwise, what are you doing sitting in the local diner, right?” Pauly nodded to himself. “And that bag ya got there, is that the real army?”

“I promised him no questions,” I answered.

“Oh, sorry, man,” Pauly said quickly, genuinely apologetic. “’S cool. Man’s gotta have his secrets. Mysterious is groovy.”

Richard smiled, but he gave a cautionary glance to Kathryn and Lyman in the front. “No, that’s okay, I don’t mind answering. Yes, I’m from around here. My folks have a farm outside Middletown. And yes, I’m in the army. Well, kind of. I’ve done my training in Louisiana and I’m flying out for Vietnam in a few days.”

Pauly’s eyes went wide, Kathryn turned in her seat, and Lyman’s eyes went to the rearview mirror.

“That was why I invited him,” I replied. “Figured if he was going off to war, he should see what he’s fighting for.”

That was a logic none of them could argue with.

I knew Kathryn and Lyman’s opinions on the Vietnam War, and hell, I tended to agree with them. But political reasons aside, the war itself wasn’t Richard’s fault.

Pauly leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out. His long dark hair flopped down over his face and into his long sideburns. “Man, the Vietnam War,” he said shaking his head slowly. “That is some heavy shit right there.”

I nodded, though Pauly didn’t see. He had his eyes closed already. I loved Pauly, I really did. Out of all my friends, he was the most laid back, the most relaxed. He was cool with everything, and his mantra of just letting people be was similar to my own.

“So where are we headed?” Richard asked. He wiped his hands on his thighs and gave me a nervous look.

“A place called White Lake, Bethel,” Kathryn said, holding up the map and pointing to the spot she’d marked with a red sticker. “It was supposed to be in Wallkill, but they changed the location.”

“Yeah, I remember my dad talking about it,” Richard said. Then he leaned forward and pointed to the map. “If you take this road right here, before the lake, and drive north of it, you’ll knock a few miles off your trip and maybe beat the traffic.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks,” she said, then relayed the directions on the map to Lyman.

Richard sat back and we were pretty much touching from our knees to our shoulders. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “Not much room.”

I turned my head toward him. “I don’t mind.”

He didn’t reply. He just smiled, but there was a flash of something in his eyes, and the blush that pooled in blotchy patterns down his cheek and neck was answer enough.

I was pretty sure Richard didn’t mind the body contact either.

The traffic was lined up for miles, but we were all too excited to care. We’d heard rumors that people were arriving early, and they weren’t wrong. The festival didn’t officially start until tomorrow, but we thought we’d get in early and grab a good spot. The place was already packed; the parking lot was nearly full and the huge sweeping field before the stage—which was still being set up—was just a sea of people and blankets and tents.

Every single face I saw was smiling or laughing. A few people were already smoking weed, much to Pauly’s happiness. “Right on, man,” he said, giving them the peace sign as we walked past, which they all returned. I had no doubt Pauly would be hanging out with them real soon.

But Richard’s face was perfect. His eyes were as wide as his smile as he took in the crowds, the scenery, people lying all over the blankets and laughing. It was pretty clear to me that he hadn’t seen anything close to this.

For me, it was just like open-air movie nights at our college, just on a much grander scale.

But there was a hum of anticipation here that had me excited too.

“Here’s a good spot,” I said when we found a bit of a clearing in the crowd. We laid the blanket out and dumped our bags. I had a rolled-up tent, which we could put up later, but first, we ate some lunch, and not long after that, Kathryn and Lyman went back to the van for a while and Pauly wandered off to make new friends. Weed-smoking friends, no doubt.

Richard and I were left sitting on the blanket, legs stretched out, and leaning on our hands. Richard was still smiling, but he nodded to Pauly. “He seems pretty cool.”

“Pauly’s cool,” I replied. “Nicest guy you’d ever meet.”

“You guys all go to the same college?”

I nodded. “Western Connecticut State College. I’m doing business management, my final year. Pauly’s in my dorm, but he’s a math whiz so we’re not in any of the same classes.”

“A math whiz? For real?”

I laughed at the look on his face. “Yep. Don’t let his appearance fool you.” It was true. Pauly wore faded bell-bottoms, shirts with holes in them, and his scraggly hair and long sideburns hardly gave the impression he was the Einstein of the math world. “He’s doing mathematical science. Smarter than his professors, apparently. They want him to transfer to MIT, but he’s not sure.”

“Wow.”

“I know.” I laughed. “I think he’s worried they’ll try and curb his ways.”

Richard smiled. “He’s probably right.”

“What about you?” I asked. “I mean, I know I said no questions, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but what’s the Richard Ronsman story?”

He sat up and crossed his legs, a change in posture that said he wasn’t too comfortable in answering, but he did. “I didn’t go to college. I mean, I got the grades, but my folks have a farm, so I’ve been helping my dad since I left school.”

“Then why the army?” I pressed. I didn’t want to push him, but it was such an odd thing. He was a clean-cut, all-American guy, raised on a farm. He had a job in a primary industry, which gave him every right to stay. And he didn’t seem happy about it. I’d known him for just a few hours, but even I could see he was quiet and gentle-natured, soft-spoken. He even had a slight lilt to his voice, a little feminine when he wasn’t censoring himself. Going to war just didn’t make sense.

“It’s a long story,” he answered quietly.

“Did you get into trouble with the law?”

He shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

And that was it. He said no more, so I let it drop.

After a moment of silence, I asked, “Have you ever seen anything like this?” I nodded toward the crowd.

“Never,” he replied; his smile returned. “And people are still lining up to get in.”

“The bands start tomorrow. It’s gonna be awesome!”

As it turned out, he’d only heard of a few of the names that were advertised. His parents didn’t much care for that kind of music, and the more he spoke of his life, his farm, his parents, there was a sadness that lurked in his eyes. It wasn’t just sadness from leaving his folks; it was something else. I didn’t know what, exactly, but I got a clearer picture of who he was.

And that was a sheltered guy, who’d spent his life on his family farm, never allowed to venture too far from it, but now he was shipping out to fight a war in a foreign country.

If he were a jigsaw puzzle, there were still a lot of pieces missing. And much to my own surprise, they were pieces I wouldn’t have minded searching for.

I nudged his shoulder. “Come on, let’s find the toilets.”

“They’re over that way,” a girl on the blanket next to ours said.

“Oh, thanks!” I replied with a smile and a wave, and Richard and I wandered through a sea of blankets and people in the direction she pointed. There were people lying down, some with books, some asleep, some making out. One couple was getting pretty hot and heavy, and Richard’s face was hilarious. “Are they just going to do that in front of everyone?” he whispered when we’d walked past.

“Sure, why not?” I replied with a shrug. “Free love and all that.”

Jeez. He was acting like he’d never seen people kiss before. I stopped walking to look at him. “Have you ever made out with someone before?”

“Oh, sure,” he answered, far too quickly.

I raised my eyebrows at him and he looked away. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said. “Lots of folks haven’t, and that’s okay.”

We began walking again. “I kissed Moira Frankston once,” he said after a while. He made a face like the mention of it brought with it a bad memory.

“It wasn’t good?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, and by then we’d rounded a line of trees to the banks of portable toilets. They were clean enough now, but I’d imagine after three days, they wouldn’t be too great. I let Richard go before me, and when I was finished, I found him standing a ways off, waiting. He was turned, looking at someone or something. “Hey.”

He spun quickly, and his face was a little pale but flushed. I’d startled him, obviously, but his face told me something else… I glanced over to where he was looking before and saw what could only be the reason for the expression on his face.

Oh.

It was two guys. They were sitting on their blanket, leaning in and kissing.

And Richard’s reaction could mean one of two things. He was horrified and disgusted, or he was astounded, in a good way, and there was a reason his kiss with Moira Frankston hadn’t appealed to him.

And his closeness to me in the van, the blush on his cheeks, that look in his eye back in the diner… it all kinda clicked into place. One more piece of the Richard Ronsman puzzle.

“It’s just two people in love,” I said, still looking at the two guys. “Does it bother you?”

He shot me a look that was more scared than I expected. And I could see it, that split moment where he was about to deny everything, but he searched my eyes for the longest moment before he looked away. “I’ve just never seen…”

I put my hand on his shoulder, making him jump and meet my eyes again. “It’s okay, Richard. Lots of folks haven’t, and that’s fine. The law doesn’t like it much, but there isn’t anything wrong with it.” I held his gaze. “No matter what they say on television or in church. It’s just a couple, like any other, who want to kiss and hold hands.”

He looked back at the kissing couple, and I swear it was like he was seeing his own truth for the very first time.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

He nodded quickly and looked away, taking in a shaky breath and finding some fortitude. “And no one here cares that they’re… together like that?”

“Some people do, just like how some folks still get bothered when they see people of different races together.” If he’d lived a kinda sheltered life on a farm in a small community, I could only guess his experience with same-sex anything had been sheltered too. “But it doesn’t matter what other people think. If it’s what you feel in here”—I put my hand to my chest—“it’s what you truly feel, then there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just love, Richard. What difference does it matter if it’s with a guy or a girl?”

His eyes swam, and he swallowed hard as he glanced back at the couple who were now laughing at something. “They look happy,” he whispered.

I watched them for a long moment. “They do. Doesn’t everyone deserve happiness?”

His gaze shot to mine again, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Should we head back?”

I smiled at him. “Sure.”