Perilous Assurance

  ******

  They walked leisurely, hand in hand in the cold, early dusk, toward the parking lot, and as she pulled her black jean jacket closer to her chest, she saw several buses lined up, the drivers standing by the doors, waiting for the next wave of riders.

  "I don't know about you, Mattie," Clay exhaled. "But I'm exhausted and wound up at the same time. That was a long day." He pulled the folded wheelchair alongside him on the uneven pavement. Her leg still ached, but after giving it a rest when she'd pushed the wheelchair, she found that she could walk the several blocks back to the parking lot with no problem, as long as they took their time.

  "It was. I'm so tired and hungry." She sighed and leaned her head against his jean jacket for a moment. "Why don't we stop somewhere on the way back to the campsite and get some dinner."

  "I'm all for that." Clay laughed as he hoisted his khaki backpack to a more comfortable position. "How's your leg holding up?"

  "It's a little sore. I think I'll need to keep the prosthetic off for a while when we get back home." She looked up at him. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world, though, Clay. It's been an extraordinary, momentous day. There aren't enough superlatives to describe how I feel about this day."

  "I'm glad everything went well, aren't you?" He kissed the top of her head. "I think we'll both slee..."

  "Mattie?"

  Mattie stopped for a moment, puzzled at hearing the familiar voice. She swung her head around, letting go of Clay's hand as she turned, and squinted at the couple standing in front of her, as the other, equally exhausted protesters quietly streamed past them on either side to board the buses. She pushed her hair back from her cheek and peered at the man as he took a drag from his cigarette, and smiled at her, his blue-eyes squinting as he exhaled.

  "Robert?" She looked at him again, feeling totally confused, and she felt Clay's hand slide around her waist as he joined her and eyed the man.

  "Yes, it's me," he laughed softly, clearly amused at her reaction. "What are the chances we'd see each other again, in a crowd of half a million people?" He eyed Clay as Mattie shook her head in astonishment, then returned his gaze to her. "You look good, Mattie." Mattie felt Clay squeeze her waist slightly.

  "Thank you, but I didn't recognize you at first, Robert." She couldn't believe this was the same man she'd dated and broken up with, what, only two and a half years ago? She gazed, completely stunned at his transformation, as he took another drag of his cigarette and flicked the ashes to the side. His light brown hair was shoulder-length, and matted-looking, as if he hadn't brushed it in weeks, his beard was straggly, and his long mustache drooped down on either side. He wore an outfit of bleached jeans that had been cut in slits at the bottom, and an open, short fur jacket. She could see rows of colorful beads laying against his white tee shirt with the popular peace sign emblazoned on the front. Mattie eyed the much younger woman, dressed in practically the same attire as Robert, and she raised her eyebrows as she noticed the ring of daisies around her long, brown hair. They looked like a slightly garish version of the iconic flower children of the sixtie's drug culture, or even possibly poor Sonny and Cher impersonators, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of them. Now in his mid-thirties, Robert seemed, to her, a little too old for his new look.

  "This is Cathy." Robert nodded to his companion, and Mattie could tell by the way he emphasized her name that she was the one he'd been seeing that summer they broke up. "Cathy, this is Mattie. I told you about her, remember?"

  "Oh, yes." Cathy glanced down at Mattie's left leg for an instant, as if trying to see her prosthetic through her jeans, and nodded. Mattie immediately disliked her, and decided to end this chance meeting as quickly as she could.

  "This is Clay," Mattie glanced up at him as she introduced him to the couple, and saw that even though his mouth was serious as he nodded to them, his eyes looked slightly amused and puzzled at the same time. Clay rested the wheelchair against his leg, and the two men shook hands in a cursory fashion. Mattie knew she was ready to move on.

  "Well, we have to board our bus now." Mattie smiled and took a step back, and Clay took the cue and grabbed her hand. "It was nice seeing you again." She waved at the couple as they turned to leave.

  "Maybe we're on the same bus." She cringed as she saw Robert take Cathy's hand, and begin to follow them. "That would be groovy. We can catch up on the last couple of years."

  "No, I don't think so." Mattie called back to them. "We're heading north." Thank God for that, she thought, unless, heaven forbid, he'd moved out of Virginia. "Clay, where's our bus?" she whispered as they neared the line of vehicles, now filling up quickly.

  "It's the second from the right, I think." He peered in that direction. "Yes, that's the one, and I see some empty seats," he chuckled softly.

  She glanced back behind them, relieved to see the two talking to a similarly dressed couple as they searched for their bus.

  Clay handed the wheelchair over to the driver, who tucked it in the lower compartment, and they boarded the bus, noticing that the overhead lights had come on, giving the interior a soft ambiance. Mattie heard a few hushed conversations, and a couple of people looked up and smiled at them as they made their way back to the center of the bus and the last two seats, but for the most part, the group on board were as worn out as they were.

  Mattie flopped down in the window seat and immediately leaned her head back on the headrest and her cane against the seat as Clay made himself comfortable in the small space and tucked his khaki backback between them.

  "Who could have guessed?" she laughed as she smoothed her black jeans down over the prosthetic, and peered out the window, relieved to see that Robert and his girlfriend were nowhere in sight.

  "A former boyfriend, eh?" he slanted his dark eyes at her, and smiled.

  "Oh...yes. Sorry about that," she shook her head, and swept both sides of her hair back to keep it out of her face. "I broke up with him right before I moved to Brooksford."

  "So...you were a hippie also?" he raised his brows at her and narrowed his eyes. "I'm conjuring up an interesting image in my mind right this very minute." He rubbed his bearded jaw and she lowered her lids as she gave him a look.

  "No, Clay," she answered drily even though she knew he was teasing her. "I was never a hippie." He chuckled at that, and she slanted her eyes at him. "He's an accountant. Or, was...I don't know what he is now, and I certainly don't care to know ." Clay raised his brows. "He's changed, though," her mouth twisted. "I really think they're into some drug use, too, and that's a shame. He looked a bit wasted."

  "Well, at least they supported the Moratorium today, even if he did use the word groovy." Clay smiled over at her. "Nixon was bound to take notice of the massive crowd."

  "I just heard that Nixon told reporters that he watched college sports the whole time and the Moratorium will have absolutely no impact on his decision-making process concerning the war."

  Clay and Mattie both peered to their left, as the elderly male passenger across from them responded to their private conversation.

  "Hmm...that's interesting to hear," Clay answered him amiably. "But, the rest of the country and world will surely take notice, and there's bound to be increased pressure on him to end the war."

  "I heard there were a few skirmishes with police down the road at the end of the protest...with some tear gas being used and several arrests," a woman passenger behind them added.

  "Overall, though," Mattie leaned forward and added her view to the others'. "I agree that the Moratorium of 'sixty-nine will be remembered as being the largest, peaceful anti-war demonstration in our nation's history." She shook her head. "It was amazing to me to see all those people, joined together...unified for the common cause of peace."

  "I agree." Clay pursed his lips. "Only good can come from this day, in my opinion." He turned and smiled at her. "I'm glad we were able to be a part of it." Mattie returned his smile, then relaxed once more into her seat, as she noticed the white-haired
bus driver enter the bus and stand at the front of the bus.

  "Listen up, everybody. Just to let you know that I'm estimating, based on the traffic...that we'll reach the parking lot in two hours or so. Maybe less, if we're lucky." He laughed and there was a collective groan from the passengers, then silence as he turned and pulled the door shut and took his seat. The lights went out, and Clay reached for her hand. Mattie peered out at the orange and purple sunset as the engine rumbled, and with her hand in his warm embrace, leaned her head back and closed her eyes as the bus headed slowly out of the lot, north toward Maryland.