Candy and The Fest

Candy was one of the few people in this world who wasn't a victim of circumstance. Any other girl placed and raised in her panhandle house would be more reserved or less girly. The only thing that seemed to tie Candy to her upbringing was a dusty pair of boots and an affinity for cows.

At least that's what Anita thought.

Candy absentmindedly swore as she pulled out of the gas station. Then she put in a cd and started eating. Not the safest driver, but a free one.

A sneaky grin crossed Anita's face as the fuzzy driving rhythm came on. She knew this song, in all its glorious frustration.

God gave me consciousness but he never told me why.

When people think of a punk rocker they have a few images in mind. Drawn from tv shows, movies, and documentaries.

What's the point of living long if we're all condemned to die.

Maybe they think of a teenager with ridiculous hair and too many piercings.

Humbled in hospitals I have seen the bitter end.

A burly man with a long beard and tattoo sleeves.

Everyone will die alone deserted by their friends.

It wasn't an incorrect image, just an incomplete one. Anita and Candy wouldn't fit into that picture. Candy the outgoing first-gen American with long hair and pink sweatshirts, Anita in her spectacles and ruined sneakers. On their way to The Fest. Anita had never been.

I want it back.

The music grew as gas stations faded away to endless evergreen trees. One more hour until Gainseville. Candy would normally worry about the awkward silence replacing conversation but she was surprisingly at ease. For once, she didn’t feel the need to fill the space with pointless words. Maybe it was the loud music that made her so comfortable, or maybe it was something entirely different.

The ride took more than an hour. After driving in circles they finally found a parking lot with space. Tony and Colin were a block or two away the former smoking in the truck bed while the latter was eating some pizza. "Breakfast of champions" he called it. The group then headed into the town center catching up with their respective trips, passing around the pizza box (no one is above pizza for breakfast), and basking in pre-concert excitement. Even from a ways out they could hear drums and loud voices coming from The Fest.

A note on the event. Each year the college town of Gainesville, not as famous as Orlando, or metropolitan as Miami, gets overrun with all manner of outsiders. From just about every continent fans attend. From small bands that don't have the money to tour internationally to more famous groups, a veritable fantasy league of punks perform. While many towns may not welcome thousands of cacophonous rascals descending in the fall, I don't think the community minds much. A boost in revenue for businesses, some new peculiar faces, and good music. If the music wasn't your taste, you probably should have left by now. Punks aren't known for compromising their tastes.

Anita had been a huge fan for years, collecting vinyl, poorly playing guitar, and trying just about every counterculture-esque style but she hadn't been to many concerts. Whether it was the lack of money or her quiet disposition it led to the same conclusion. She had spent most of her listening time in the seclusion of her bedroom or through portable players. Not through the near-transcendent experience of jumping up and down with countless others on destroyed lawns or smokey halls.

Candy, on the other hand, was always ready for a concert; from sneaking out in middle school with a girl who would break her heart, weekly outings in high school with friends, or hanging with the local counterculture crowd. She knew exactly how to sweet talk and push her way to the front, had extra earplugs in her car doors, and her fair share of bruises from moshing a little too hard for a little too long. She gave Anita a pair of earplugs and started pushing forward. When she realized that Anita wasn't following behind her but still at the edge of the crowd, she went back and dragged her in. Punks gotta stick together.

This was how shy Anita, the same Anita who read too much and didn't like crowds, Anita who never wanted to impose, Anita who would apologize if she bumped into a wall, found herself pushed damn close to the center of what felt like a Möngöl Hörde.

She didn't have much time to object or think of a way out before she was in the thick of it. She found herself screaming lyrics along with Candy and out-of-key singers, jumping up and down, and laughing every time she bumped into someone she didn't know well. In the brief spaces between performances, they grabbed cheap t-shirts from nearby stalls and Candy drowned herself in hard lemonade and specialty beers.

"Why don't you drink with me, Anita?" Candy slurred.

"Someone has to drive all the way back, and I don't think in a few more hours you are going to come to your senses," Anita replied.

"Fair, but someone has to drink all this, or it'll spoil" she laughed before ridiculously stomping on the can and pumping her fists into the sky.

Anita rolled her eyes and followed Candy back. For that brief moment in time, she wasn't worried. Not how she usually was at least. She wasn't concerned about offending God, worrying her parents, the grades she was receiving, her punctuality, or anything really. Sure she still had a plan for getting home, and thinking ahead but she wasn't terrified about her next deadline back home. In this crowd of seasoned scene kids and following this girl around she wasn’t judged.

I was a sexy little viper room, in the corner of a King Tut tomb when the hate train started, going choo-choo.

I was a rat on a burning ship, and when we sunk our fire got put out it just like the great plague...

"Yo, pass me some of that saltfish."

Anita obliged and handed over her tray to Tony. The four were back together at Colin's truck. Through some miracle, the Jamaican restaurant actually got their orders as well as who knows how many others, fairly quickly. Colin and Candy were chatting away about the acts they've seen and their poli sci classes. Anita was just trying to catch a breath. She still had the AJJ set stuck in her head. Tony, even more than the others was drenched in sweat. The Florida heat ain't easy on a guy in all black.

"Why did I even wear pants?" Tony absentmindedly questioned.

Anita almost spit out her food in laughter. Candy whipped her head around, her face was flushed red from the heat (but more likely the beer) and got oddly concerned. Anita was practically wheezing in response, and though she knew it was only laughter, she couldn't help but worry. She wanted to be next to her, be in on the joke, and make sure she was okay. But she kept her cool and just smiled from afar. Maybe it was the heat or the alcohol making her so unusually affectionate, or maybe it was something entirely different.

After a little while, Colin and Tony started heading back to the crowd, Anita and Candy were left lightheartedly bickering before walking back to the stage. They decided they would hit the road after Pup performed later on. They took the city-scenic route back if you will, across side streets littered with trash and graffiti, next to restaurants with overworked servers, the odd grassy area where a couple dressed to the nines in plaid and leather were sipping Merlot from a fancy bottle of all things, to get back to the show. Anita would later say it was to kill time, Candy would say it was to talk, the boring truth was they just didn't know their way around Gainesville.

But in that directionless time, Anita learned a few things about Candy. That her favorite singer growing up was Billy Joel, how she used to think that every girl saw other girls the way she did, her cherished memories of watching the cattle go out into the fields. before her father died, that everyone thought she would make a good doctor, but her heart wasn't in it, "what could be worse than a doctor who doesn't wanna be on call?" she said. Candy also pestered Anita about her family that always made things a little too spicy for her, how Anita knew how to read and write in 5 languages but could only speak English and Spanish, partially due to lack of peers in mandarin, but mostly because she didn't have a lot of friends, and what it was like to grow up in a mixed religion household. "Strange." was all she could really say to that.

Just as they could see the festival stage, Anita did something that girls like her just don't do. Candy was tethered at the end of her hand, she pulled her in close and kissed her. Sophomore in college and she finally got her first kiss. The air of the town was rebellion and acceptance, Anita had inhaled that gas full force. Yes, this was the place where dykes like her could be free, where no one would scowl in disgust, where men's thoughts on God could not reach, and no one could interrupt them to make it a political scene. There was a time for that, but not today. This was a moment of joy, a sacred space to love. After melting into each other they headed off back to the races.

And I've embraced the calamity.

With an attachment and a passive disinterest.

The roads were clear and stars were out. Anita was driving a sleep-talking Candy back to UCF. She kept the music low and the windows up. For the first time in several hours, she was able to reflect. In MP3s and vinyl records she'd escaped her world. Her world of obsessive worrying, of scrupulosity and self-hate, where she could love who she wanted and let the wild run free. In nights she found refuge from an all prevailing sun that saw all of her life. But even in those wanderings there was fear. Fear of the next moment, and the next, and the next, all the way into the depts of a future she could not predict, but need to predict. During that one brief day, she didn't feel that. Sure there were moments where that feeling came back, but it wasn't an all-consuming power. And she wondered why she waited so long to be free if it was that easy?

Of course, to be free of fear is easier said than done. Anita still had a long way to go, learning if and how God could still love her, acknowledging her anger, and figuring out all those messy feelings about Candy. But the seeds were well-planted. Anita's memories of the day would forever be like one of those old Springsteen songs, filled with the pining memories of love, loud music, and the angst of the urban jungle. After years the relationship would fizzle out, they would stay friends from afar and suggest meeting up but something would always get in the way. Yet that first date would forever be a warm start to something worthwhile in both their lives.

And what more could you ask for?

Songs quoted in order of appearance:

Staff to the Refund Counter - Möngöl Hörde

Kokopelli Face Tattoo - AJJ

Kids - PUP