Book excerpt: Rhythm of a broken heart: Give peace a chance

I couldn’t sleep last night. My mind is in turmoil. Pressure from the band gigs coming up, preparing for the concert and my conflicted feelings for Sarah and Kathy on my mind.

To top it off, I am trying to act normal at home and not give any indication that I am walking out of school this morning for the peace march. Our carpool Mom dropped us off just like any normal day.

Many of my classmates were wearing peace sign shirts, headbands and the protest signs were packed into Larry’s van. I have not been privy to the exact details other than what Kathy has told me. She seems to be one of the top organizers of this event. She can fill me in at our chorus class at 9:45. That will be where we will be kicking this off.

Mr. Leone is a hip dude, so I think he will be cool with what we are doing. As I walked to class, everyone’s energy level was high and the vibe was intense. The odor of weed was abundant as some of them got stoked for this before school.

“Good morning, Sam, will you walk out with me?” Kathy whispered softly in my ear from behind me.

She was dressed for the part for sure. A tie-dyed headband, boho-flared flowered bell bottoms, fringed leather vest and a cropped t-shirt blazoned with: “Make Love Not War!” That look was totally her personality. Just that get up alone was against school policies. But she looked totally hip. It was obvious that she was too stoked up for this.

“I’m totally underdressed compared to your cool look. Are you sure you want me next to you?” I asked .

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be with me, Sam. I’m glad you’re coming along with us, I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I’m totally on board to ending this war. I’m just not as outspoken as some. Oh, thank you for the party invite, I think that will be great. I look forward to it.”

“I’m super happy about that Sam. It will be a fun time. I have some other cool cats coming as well.”

This moment surely was not the appropriate time to discuss friendship vs. romance. Her vibration was really high and I was beginning to feed off of it. My reluctance for doing this was fading as we sat down next to each other in class. We were practicing the male solo lines from: “You’re My Soul and My Inspiration” by the Righteous Brothers.

Mr. Leone told us a story of how they got their name. They were doing a gig in a bar in the south. After one set, a guy in the audience stood up and said: “That was righteous, brother !” So they took the handle “The Righteous Brothers.”

Soon the class clock hit 10:00. Kathy stood up and quietly said: “Excuse me, Mr. Leone, we are all leaving now to march for peace to city hall. I hope you don’t feel disrespected.”

“No Kathy,” he said. “While as a teacher, it’s not cool for me to allow you to leave, I am totally behind your cause. I wish I could go with you guys.”

Everyone applauded him and those that were going stood up and filed out the door. By the time we reached the parking lot, there were hundreds of us there. They were handing out the signs to any and all , some drums to banging. There was a true feeling of togetherness and not the feeling I feared of a bunch of kids just wanting to skip school.

The crowd proceeded down Grand Avenue and in a few blocks, we hit Main Street.

Kathy bravely walked out in front into the traffic and motioned the cars to stop. There were horn beeps of approval and horn beeps of dislike.

We took to the center of the street and walked the three blocks to city hall chanting slogans, waving peace signs and singing.

By the time we hit the marble steps of the building, there were scores of cops and press people with cameras.

This was exactly what I didn’t want, but it was time to speak up. The three student body leaders went to the top of the stairs and using a megaphone, started speaking.

Michael was the first to expound. He went on about how wrong the war was, but then started to trash our heroic soldiers.

All I could think about was Chuck, the brave man that owned my drum set and gave his life in Nam last year.

Then Byron, our school president, really went off on our guys, calling them babykillers and murderers.

What bothered me the most, was that the crowd was cheering these statements and so was Kathy. My anger was spontaneous and came on so fast. I pushed my way past the people lining the path up the stairs.

“Sam, where are you going? Are you okay?” Kathy shouted.

I didn’t respond, as rarely do I have anything to say or even feel I have a right to speak out.

When I reached the three leaders at the top, they stopped talking and looked puzzled. I must have an intense look on my face. I asked them to give me the megaphone. They just handed it right over to me, no questions. I looked out at the crowd and everyone quickly fell silent.

It became incredibly daunting. I couldn’t stand down and I was on a huge adrenalin rush. It is too late to stop. I should give it back and get the hell out of there.

Instead I began to speak from my heart: “I think we are all here for the same purpose, to make people aware that this is a useless war, as is any war. We are a generation of war babies. We don’t want to live the same tragedies that our parents did. But, all of you are shouting against, cursing and blaming the soldiers fighting this war. They are the victims too. They are dying uselessly. Nearly 11,000 souls have been lost this year alone. We are here today because we refuse to sit in silence, we can’t continue to live in fear. We are here standing together believing we can make things better. These men and women are someone’s sons and someone’s daughters .They don’t want this either, we need to pray for them. Let’s join together for one purpose and one cause. The causes of peace and freedom.”

The photographers were snapping pictures left and right. I dreaded what was ahead for me from Dad. I think everyone else there was taken by surprise. Not many know me personally, mostly just from the band or singing performances. The stunned silence turned into cheers, some applause and a few boos.

The rush was gone. I felt embarrassed and drained. As I walked back down the stairs, my knees felt weak. Some kids patted my back and when I got to Kathy, she hugged me like she would never let me go.

She had tears in her eyes: “Oh gosh Sam, I had no idea how passionate you were. That was so brave and true in many, many ways.”

“Kathy, the radicals on both sides would disagree with me. But I always speak from my heart.”

The rally continued and by 2:00, everyone had dispersed.

On our way back, we stopped at the Middletown Diner, to rest and grab a hot cocoa. She can’t stop talking about what I did and what I said, she even bragged to the waitress. We sat across from each other in a booth. She is staring at me with that “I love you” look. I have to separate her allure from my current reality.

She has beautiful eyes. She has energy. She has style. I am emotionally tangled up with Sarah, home life, my aspirations and school. I’m not going to be unfair to her, if she wants to have a deeper relationship right now.

“Kathy, thank you for inspiring me to go with you today. You are very brave and motivating.”

“Thank you Sam, that’s very nice,” she said. “We can celebrate all of this after the concert at my party.”

“Kathy, I have to tell you that I am working on a relationship with that girl I saw at Grossingers last year. We met at music camp and I have strong feelings for her. We’ve had our ups and downs, but I don’t want to lead you on. I do really like you and truly appreciate our friendship.”

She looked down and then into my eyes.

“Sam, I have no expectations. I know that someone as nice and sweet as you would have a lot of girlfriends. I like being around you. We have quite different personalities, but I think that makes it interesting. I am attracted to you in so many ways.”

She has a way of disarming me with her direct and honest responses. I’m not used to someone as complimentary as she.

“I would never commit to more than one relationship at once. That’s shallow and it lessens the meaning of true friendship. I need that close bond. As with my school work, my music and my sports, I go all in and fully commit to my choices,” I said.

“I really appreciate your honesty and your friendship. As long as we are true to each other. I want this friendship to continue. Anything that may develop from it would be a gift.”

When we walked out and headed back to school, she actually asked me to hold her hand. I’ve read in my psychology class that holding hands with a friend without romantic intentions signifies a strong bond of trust, support and connection. It’s a way to express comfort and intimacy regardless of the nature of a relationship. Without any hesitancy, I took her hand until we parted at school. I hope she understands my intentions.

Crashing at home, I disappeared for the night. Morning couldn’t come soon enough. As soon as I heard the Time Herald Record newspaper hit our porch, I crept downstairs. I slowly opened the creaking front door and grabbed it off the deck. I slithered back to my room and opened it up. It couldn’t be any worse. There I was with the megaphone in hand with the caption: “SAM JENSEN ADDRESSES STUDENT WALK-OUT!,” on the front page.

Someone must have told the reporter who I was. I got ready for school early, hid the paper under the magazines and split. I wasn’t going to be able to hide from this one for long. Now everyone in town knew who I was.

As other protests took place that day all over, there were no repercussions from the school or teachers. Mr. Leone did give me a wink, but we were two days from the concert. All of our energy has to be directed at polishing up last minute items in our program. I was happy to see Kathy chatting with a few of the other guys after school.

When I got home, Mom said that Mrs. Bud saw my picture in the paper.

“Sam, did we get a paper today?”

“Yes Mom, here it is”.

I grabbed it from under the table and handed it to her with the front open. She read it so slowly. It was agonizing waiting for her reaction.

“Good for you Sam. It’s great to stand up for what you believe. Don’t worry about Dad, I’ll talk to him”.

I was upstairs when he came home. I could hear his deep voice in a discussion with her. I had to come down sooner or later and face him. I was hoping he was on his second drink.

As I reached the bottom stair he grumbled: “All my friends commented to me today about you. Maybe you should focus on school and not unpatriotic dissension. I’m surprised they didn’t tear gas you guys and expel you. Stop wasting your time.”

I didn’t respond. There was no need. I believe there was a part of him that was proud that I stood up for a worthy cause. All wars are senseless. This Vietnam War, even more so.