New Years revelers surged through the 5th Avenue entrance across from the Plaza Hotel. The cops had erected a barricade across the road to Central Park. Nick showed his MD pass. They waved us into the park and we drove to the boathouse. It was quarter to 1971.
Eddie got out of the front seat, breathless after this epic effort. We helped him over to a park bench with a clear view of the lake. Strains of rock music faded and rose on the wind. People headed in its direction. One group of longhair junkies ridiculed Eddie.
I glared at them to shut their holes.
Eddie motioned for me to let it go. “I’m used to the abuse.”
“Still it’s ain’t right.”
The air whooshed in and out of his lungs. It seemed like another ten steps might kill him and he stopped by a bench, saying, “You go on without me.”
“No way.” Wayne helped Eddie sit down. Nick pulled some blankets out of Mini-Cooper. I opened the bottles of Boone Farm. Wayne lit up joints. Sookie cuddled closer to me for warmth. Her body was starved for heat. Nick draped us with a quilt.
“All we need is a fire and we could have a picnic.”
Nick rubbed his hands together.
“Try some of this to get warm.” Sookie handed him a small bottle of tequila. We each had a nip. The alcohol boiled in our stomachs. Eddie was about to light another joint, when a cop appeared from the shadows.
He was about our age.
Young.
“That looks like marijuana.” His nightstick tapped the bench.
“It is.” Eddie craned his neck without being able to see the officer.
“The rest of you hippie scum holding?” The thin cop beamed a flashlight in our eyes and seized Eddie’s coat.
Other longhairs gathered around us at a safe distance. The NYPD had a reputation from violence and his officer’s comrades were only seconds away. there were only two here
“No, just me.” Eddie admitted his guilt. “You can arrest me and I’ll resist the only way I know. By being heavy. But if you shine us on, we’ll wish you a Happy New Year.”
“Let the big man go free!” one longhair shouted and the crowd chanted for Eddie’s release. The cop surveyed the shadows for back up. He was outnumbered 50-1. His hand twitched on his holstered .38, then an older cop pushed through the hippies and assessed the scene with veteran eyes.
“Is that a joint in your hand?” His flashlight shined on the reefer.
“Yes, officer.” Eddie excelled at playing ‘good boy’.
“And my partner wants to arrest you for possession.” He flicked off the light.
“That’s correct, officer.”
“You put away the joint.” He lifted his open hands to show this problem wasn’t a problem. “My partner and I will leave you alone.”
“Thank you, officer.” Eddie put the joint inside his coat and nodded his gratitude. “And Happy New Year.”
“Same to you.” The older cop escorted his fellow officer from the bench and the mob parted for the policemen to leave the area. The hippies cheered Eddie and two seconds later the first rocket for the fireworks arced into the night sky.
1971 was now 1972.
The pyrotechnic display lasted a good half-hour and Eddie cried at the finale.
“What’s wrong?” Wayne stood by his friend.
“I haven’t been out of the apartment in so long I forgot what it’s like to be around people. To be with friends.” Eddie struggled to his feet and dried his eyes. “I don’t want my eyelids to freeze shut.”
“Eddie, you don’t have to stay in the apartment all the time.” Wayne was half Eddie’s size. His problems with weight were manageable.
“I can barely walk to the Mini-Cooper.” His steps were tentative, as if he expected the earth to crumple beneath his feet. “You should have seen me at Woodstock. I reached the rim of the crowd and gave up getting any closer. Wayne stayed with me the entire time.”
“It was nothing.” Wayne had never mentioned this sacrifice. He always spoke about the festival, as if he had been in the front row.
“You had to stick with me instead of seeing all those bands.” Eddie pounded his chest with his fists.
“I heard the music.” Wayne seized Eddie’s wrists. His hands barely reached halfway around the thick joints. “Plus Woodstock was more than the music. It was about peace and love.”
“Horseshit. I’m trapped in this body, but I wasn’t this way always. Chubby, but not fat like this, and when I was 12, I ate a Devil’s Dog. It was so good I would do anything to get them. I started dealing drugs on Jerome Avenue to finance my eating habits. Within two years I weighed 200. By the time I was 18 I was over 300. I have no idea how much I weigh now.”
Eddie was on the verge of crying. Wayne slipped under Eddie’s arm to steady him and I held his other side. He tried to shake us off, except his sense of balance wandered with every step.
“I’m a big fat fuck and I’ll never be able to get into a glider.”
“Shut up, Eddie.” Sookie stood in front of us. “Sure when I first saw you, I thought you were a big fat fuck, but you have a good heart. Fly or not fly, it’s not the end of the world. You’ll still be our friend. Do you really want to fly?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll help you starve. It’s my specialty.” Sookie caressed his face. “Starting tomorrow.”