Waiting to Believe (34 page)

Her biker had a long, dirty brown braid down his neck. His face was thin and weathered beneath the bandana tied around his head. He turned to her, “C'mon,” he called, “The music won't wait for you!” He held out his hand to help her swing her leg over the saddle. His smile seemed harmless. Genuine. She climbed aboard.

“Thanks,” she murmured, as she reluctantly encircled his waist with her arms and squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want this experience to linger in her memory: The feel of the biker's wiry frame under his leather jacket, the sight of her own hands on his body.

Lisa shook her head, this time in resignation, as she finally climbed aboard the black Harley, forcing herself to place her arms around the thick middle of the stranger sitting ahead of her. Kacey saw repugnance spread across Lisa's face. She was glad she couldn't read Lisa's mind.

But the bikers did what they said they'd do and in no time, Kacey and Lisa could hear the pounding bass even over the roar of the Harleys, and the scene unfolded before them. Hundreds of people sprawled on the grass, a few on lawn chairs, others were sitting or lying on blankets. The two motorcycles slowed to a stop at the outer edge, and Kacey and Lisa climbed off, shouting their thanks to the drivers. “Hey,” the red Harley biker called back, “Don't do anything we wouldn't do!”

Kacey shivered at the thought. The two quickly joined those sitting on the grass. It was tickly on their bare legs. Sitting in the midst of peace signs, tie-dyed T-shirts, headbands, ragged bell-bottoms, and bare feet, their own clothes no longer seemed out of place. Kacey took it all in, her gaze finally resting on the group on stage. “Who is it?” she asked.

“You're asking
me
?” Lisa replied.

A young woman sitting next to them overheard the exchange. “You don't know the
Byrds
? Where've you been?”

Kacey and Lisa did not respond. Just then the group burst into song:

To everything (turn, turn, turn)

there is a season (turn, turn, turn)

and a time for every purpose under heaven
. . .

The two nuns looked at one another with huge grins across their faces. “Will ya listen to that?” Kacey shouted. “It's an omen, right out of the book of Ecclesiastes!”

“Yep!” Lisa shouted back. “We were
meant
to be here!”

The applause was wild, with Kacey and Lisa clapping and whistling along with the crowd. All around them, young people were jumping to their feet, dancing feverishly, in a world of their own.

The smell of marijuana clung to the air, sweet and heady, coming even closer as the woman next to Lisa offered her a pull on her joint. Lisa took it in her fingers and held it for a moment. She looked at Kacey, unsure what to do, but Kacey shook her head. “Nope,” she said, “that's going too far, even for me.” Lisa had a silly grin on her face. “Right,” she said reluctantly, “for me, too,” as she passed on it.

The Turtles took the stage next, with their beautiful tight harmonies:

Imagine me and you, I do

I think about you day and night, it's only right

to think about the girl you love and hold her tight.

So happy together . . .

Kacey sat with her arms around her knees, swaying to the music. Many were standing, arms uplifted in a prayerlike posture. It was mesmerizing. She wished they'd be offered another puff on the joint.

And then it was the Rascals, who leaped onto the stage and moved right into “A Beautiful Morning.” Kacey had heard the popular song before, but felt she was hearing it for the first time.

It's a beautiful mornin',

I think I'll go outside a while,

And just smile.

Just take in some clean, fresh air, boy!

Ain't no sense in staying inside . . .

She rose to her feet and swayed, mouthing the words to herself.

I've got to be on my way, now.

Ain't no fun just hangin' around,

I've got to cover ground, you couldn't keep me down.

The music went on for another hour, the crowd growing more intense, more raucous. Finally, it was time to leave. “C'mon, Lisa, the party's over.”

Lisa was reluctant. “Couldn't we stay just another half hour?”

But Kacey insisted. “Nope, it's a long way home. But what a trip, huh?”

“I can't remember when I've had this much fun,” Lisa agreed. “I don't want it to end!”

Kacey stood up, “But it has to, so let's go.”

“I don't know why you're being so hardnosed about it now,” Lisa said. “It was your idea in the first place, so what's another hour?”

“It's not just the time, Lisa. It's—it's getting too caught up in it. It's almost
too
much fun!” Kacey's own ambivalence frightened her. She felt both swept away and guilty. Trying to be lighthearted, she took Lisa's hand, pulling her up from the ground. “C'mon,” she said, “we need to get out of here while the gettin's good!”

They began the long walk back through the parking lot. Lisa jabbered, reliving the experience, but Kacey fell silent. The lyrics of the Rascals continued to play in her mind.
It's a beautiful mornin', I think I'll go outside a while . . . Ain't no sense in stayin' inside
. . .
Ain't no sense in stayin' inside . . . Ain't no sense in staying inside. . . .
She shuddered as she trudged along.

57

The two abandoned their “disguises” in a gas station restroom and changed back into wrinkled habits. It took several hitches before they got close to the convent, walking the rest of the way. They managed to sneak into the kitchen undetected late that afternoon, going directly to their rooms before supper.

The rock fest was now a week in the past. Lisa slid back into the routine with ease—it had been a lark, but it was over. Kacey struggled. Her head was often filled with the images: the wild tie-dyed colors; the shirtless men; long, untamed hair; the sweet smell of pot; the swaying, the dancing. But most of all, the music of the Rascals:
It's a beautiful mornin', I think I'll go outside for a while, and just smile . . .

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close out the sights and the sounds.
Ain't no sense in stayin' inside
. . . Kneeling in the small side chapel, she clasped her hands so tightly, her knuckles began to whiten.
O Mother of Perpetual Help
, she prayed,
behold at your feet a wretched sinner who turns to you and puts all trust in you. Mother of Mercy, have pity on me!

Once again, she was praying that all-too familiar prayer.

Alas, it is but true
,
that in the past I have fallen miserably, because I did not turn to you
—

She stopped and opened her eyes.
Oh, who am I fooling? I don't even mean this.
Standing up, she walked slowly away.

“Psst!” Kacey didn't need to turn to know who it was. She waited for Lisa to catch up. The sight of her friend could almost always bring a smile, but this day, it did not.

“Whaddya want?” Kacey asked in a whisper, her face revealing frustration. Lisa saw it.

“What's wrong with you?”

“What do you want?” Kacey repeated.

“Well, I was looking for you. If we go help Sudsy clean tools in the barn, we can hear the Twins game. He's got it on out there.”

“I don't think so.”

Lisa was surprised. Kacey rarely gave up a chance to hear a game. Lisa tried to lure her. “Jim Kaat's pitching. Your
favorite
!”

“No, I've gotta work on my catechism lessons for next week.”

They were nearing the rec room door. “Well, now I've heard everything! C'mon in here,” Lisa directed. “I want to talk to you.”

Several tables of sisters were playing bridge. A lively Scrabble game was going on at the far end. A free Saturday afternoon was always welcome, and the room was filled with good spirit. Lisa grabbed two decks of cards as she motioned Kacey away from the others. “Here,” she said, handing one deck to Kacey. “Shuffle. We're going to play double solitaire.”

“I don't want to!” Kacey's irritation was growing.

“I get it, but we're going to anyway. So we can talk! Now shuffle!”

Kacey began to shuffle.

“What's going on?” Lisa demanded in a firm but low voice.

Kacey groaned. “It's the damn Prayer to Our Lady of Perpetual Help!”

“What in the world?”

They began dealing the cards. Finally, Kacey spoke. “I've been having a rough time making the transition from rock festival groupie back to penitent sister.”

Lisa laid down the first ace. “Say more.”

“Oh, I dunno. It just seemed so easy for you to slip back into your life here, but I keep hearing the music in my head. Seeing the dancing. The wildness of it. The freedom.”

“Well, sure,” Lisa responded. “I've thought about it, too. But so what? That's not a crime!”

Kacey was unconvinced. “You don't think so? It sort of feels like one to me. Like this has gone all wrong.”

Lisa's soft voice began to rise. “What are you
talking
about?”

“Well, think about it. That could have been us there.”

“That
was
us there!” Lisa said in exasperation.

“I mean, for real! Not just as afternoon escapees. Those were people our age. It was their scene! I'm twenty-three years old, and I barely knew the words to most of the songs. I think it's made me feel like I've lost my identity. Like I've run away from it to something I'm not even sure I believe in anymore!” There, she'd said it. She blinked her moist eyes and took a big gulp.

“Oh, Kacey,” Lisa whispered, tears clouding her eyes. “You don't mean that.”

“Well, I don't know if I do or not. It's been hell being so distracted. I've been trying to deal with it, you know? I've just kept praying that damn prayer, and today, it just really hit home. I feel like such a hypocrite. I say the words, but I don't believe them.”

“Which words?”

“Calling myself a wretched sinner, for starters! I'm not a wretched sinner! I even change the words when I sing ‘Amazing Grace.' No fooling! I sing, ‘that saved a
peach
like me'! I'm no wretch!”

“Kacey!” Lisa knew she shouldn't smile. “That's no big deal.”

“It
is
a big deal! Okay, I've never been particularly pious. I know I'm irreverent and all that, but I'm
not
a wretched sinner, and I can't keep saying that I am! And beyond that, I don't think I can honestly say that I put all my trust in Our Lady! I can't! I'm a hypocrite! I've spent six years trying to become someone else, while my own history has passed me by!”

“Maybe your history hasn't been written for you yet,” Lisa said tenderly. She leaned in closer, her eyes searching Kacey's troubled face. “Oh, Kace,” she murmured.

“Sister Mary John!” The voice was a sudden stab. Lisa twisted around and saw that Mother Mary Bernard had glided up behind her. “I wonder if you're paying proper attention to your game. You have both the two and the three of diamonds, which you could be playing on the ace.”

Lisa flushed. “Oops, you're right, Mother Mary. Thank you for pointing that out.” She quickly made the two moves.

Mary Bernard smiled at the young sisters with a less than sincere smile. “I shouldn't be giving you an advantage over your opponent, but sometimes one can't refrain from interfering.”

“I know just what you mean,” Lisa responded, equally insincere. Kacey could not look at the old nun, who moved on without another word.

“Yikes!” Lisa whispered. “Maybe we should talk about this another time!”

“Or maybe never.”