Chapter 24

GYPSY, HAVING GOT WHAT SHE WANTED, consented to sit while I sketched her at the table with the deck of cards in her hand. She even signed a model release for me. Kate didn’t get back from her walk with Willow, Sunday, and Rainbow until Gypsy rang a big bell for lunch. By that time, I’d been outside and sketched the entire enclave. Then went behind the house and sketched the caravan. I had a whole village at my fingertips—and pretty much no one had ever seen it.

Kate’s grandfather joined us for lunch. I thought Ken Holsinger was the first normal sounding name I’d heard since I got there, but there was nothing normal about it. He was six-two and half Japanese. His name was Kenichi. His mother was a World War II bride and his father was an Austrian-American. Kate’s exotic good looks with her Romani mother were a blend of cultures and races.

Grandpa Ken wanted to talk about books and music. What did I read? What did I listen to? He seemed particularly fascinated when I told him about listening to music when I paint and Kate had to relate the story of me painting the mural and how she’d watched me for hours. I had no idea how long she had watched me. She carefully told the story, though, without mentioning the actual subject of the mural. I don’t think she fooled her mother.

By midafternoon, we were visiting neighbors and I’d been introduced to pretty much everyone who lived in the commune and to most of the farm animals. Kate’s normal wear of bib overalls and a T-shirt pretty much summed up the standard dress, though the older ladies tended towards brightly colored skirts and blouses. I wondered if they were more influenced by Gypsy’s style or the Grateful Dead.

There was just one downer. We were visiting with Grandma Bliss and Grandpa Leo. Frankly, they didn’t seem much older than Oke and Vadoma, but apparently Papa Jim was their son and that automatically made them grands. While we were visiting, their other son, Dusty, came in. He didn’t seem any older than Kate and me.

“So you brought the proof,” he said to Kate. “Now you can’t use that as an excuse anymore. It’s about time. I’ll see you tonight, Katie-girl.” Somehow it seemed threatening and Kate pulled herself tighter to me, her fingers digging into my biceps.

“Dusty, behave yourself,” Grandpa Leo snapped. “We have guests.”

“Yeah. Right,” he said and turned on his heel to leave.

“What was all that about?” I asked Kate when we left.

“He’s a jerk,” Kate said. I’d never heard her speak so vehemently.

“That much was obvious,” I said.

We walked a ways beyond the cluster of houses into the woods and sat on a stump. Kate just sort of melted into my arms and kissed me. We hadn’t had much alone time—scratch that. We hadn’t had any alone time since we came into the house for breakfast this morning. It was nice to feel her lips on mine.

“Okay,” she said at last. “Dusty thinks he’s my boyfriend. I promise, I never gave him any reason to think I agreed with that. We grew up together and he just assumes we’ll be a couple here in the community. When I was here last, he got kind of aggressive and I yelled that I’d choose who I gave my virginity to. That’s when I blurted out that I had a boyfriend. I don’t feel safe around him and you said...”

“I said I’d protect you from anyone who made an unwelcome move on you,” I finished.

“Yeah,” Kate said.

“As far as anyone here is concerned you are my girlfriend. Not my sister,” I said.

“Thank you, Tony. There’s something else you should know.” Oh boy. What now?

“You should tell me then, Kitten,” I said gently.

“There’s going to be a bonfire tonight.”

“Sounds like fun. We had those on summer nights in Nebraska.”

“Did you get high and drum?”

“Um ... no. I don’t do drugs, Kate.” I couldn’t believe she seemed to be suggesting that I smoke something. I knew her dad was high last night, but everyone seemed to be pretty normal today.

“I don’t either, Tony. None of the kids do, but you’ll smell it in the air tonight. How about drumming?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever done that, either.”

“Well, you will tonight. That’s not an option. Everybody will get a drum. And there will be dancing.”

“Um ... clothed?” I was suddenly having visions of a bunch of stoned men and women gyrating in front of a fire.

“Yes, silly,” she said squeezing me. “Don’t get too excited. But you might want your sketchbook handy. You never know what might happen.” She grinned at me and I finally figured out I was being a bit of a jerk myself. I laughed.

“You really had me going there, Kitten.”

“Well, it will probably be a little strange for a city kid like you, but out here it happens almost every weekend when the weather is decent. They held off last night because we were just getting in. Tonight, everybody plans to cut loose.”

“As long as I can keep you and a shred of my dignity, I’ll play along,” I said. “Things are pretty weird out here for a city slicker like me.” We laughed and headed back to the community.

There was more food than I’d ever seen outside of a Nebraska potluck. They started the fire at about four and they actually roasted meat over it. Well, that was one thing about this hippie commune—they weren’t vegetarians, even if they didn’t drink coffee.

After the cooking was done and the spits were removed, the fire was built up and we all sat around on logs. The fire pit was pretty much in the middle of the circle of houses and trailers that made up the community.

Kate had left me with Papa Jim and Mamma Sara just after dinner and she, her sister, and Rainbow went with her mother to the house. We laughed and talked, told improbable stories, and joked with each other. Willow joined us. Jim had served one tour of duty in Afghanistan and considered himself no longer subject to Uncle Sam. He’d come back to the commune where Sara and his three-year-old son were waiting for him. Now he and Sara were expecting another.

I asked Sara if she was going to dance tonight and she laughed.

“Only once I get this horndog back to our trailer,” she said. “I’d knock someone out with this belly if I danced.” She and Jim let me sketch them together, partially nude, and it was really a good sketch.

It wasn’t long before drums were being distributed around the circle. Grandpa Leo, Grandpa Ken, and Papa Dave rolled a huge drum made out of an oak barrel to one side of the circle and the three of them sat around it with big sticks. Most of the rest of us had smaller drums that we were supposed to beat on with our hands. I figured I should be able to at least keep a rhythm going. I could already smell the sweet aroma of weed burning as some of the guys were passing around a joint. I found a place among the kids to sit with Willow. We avoided the pass.

The big drum started the festivities. These folks all drummed together on a pretty regular basis, so it wasn’t hard to just follow along. Grandpa Ken struck the drum once with his mallet. Before the sound had totally died down, Grandpa Leo struck. Then Papa Dave. In a matter of a few heartbeats, the three men were hammering out a rhythm on the big drum and the rest of us joined in. The surrounding woods rang. I wondered how far away people heard this and ran for shelter.

I was happily pounding away on the little drum I’d been given when I heard something new. I looked across the fire and Kate’s dad, Oke, was holding a guitar. At least I thought it was a guitar. It was a little bigger than any I’d seen before and he was making sounds with it that I’d never heard from any other guitar. The big drum stopped and all the little drums fell silent behind it. The show was all Oke. Man, could that guy play!

He got through his riff and there was a renewed roll of the big drum that culminated in three sharp whacks and fell to silence.

I heard a bell.

My head snapped around and four unbelievably beautiful women entered the circle of firelight, tapping their finger cymbals together as they strutted in a parade around the fire. Gypsy, her two daughters, and Rainbow were starting the dance. I could only look at Kate. She stopped right in front of me. Oh my god, she was beautiful!

I grabbed my sketchpad.

Starting at the top ... oh so many places I could have started ... her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders. Her eyes were made up with some dark liner and her crimson lips glistened in the firelight. The top she was wearing was cropped just below her breasts, which I couldn’t help but notice moved freely beneath it. She had a long skirt on that matched the other women and was slit up her left leg. That leg, she stuck out.

Then the guitar and drum started again and the ladies danced.