Happy Easter
April 14, 1968
by Janine Stephenson
After Becca and I went to Easter service at the convent, she grabbed me by the arm and told me that I needed to take a walk with her. Since it's going to rain today, I wasn't terribly excited to go out, but she insisted. "C'mon, let's go to the park."
We went back to our room to grab our rain hats and slickers. I saw that she stuffed a book in her coat on the way out. I asked her why she wanted to take a book. After all, it's going to rain. She said that it was a poetry book and she wanted to read me poetry in the park. I thought that was strange, especially since the only poetry Becca really likes is Rod McKuen. And I hate Rod McKuen's books.
Sure enough, we walked two blocks to the park. When we got inside the gates, she pulled out her Rod McKuen book and said that it was time for me to stop being square. I told her that it was time for her to get some real taste in poetry. Reading Rod McKuen in the rain wasn't going to make me like his poetry any better than reading it surrounded by a bunch of wildflowers. He's syrupy and corny and everything I hate about everything in life. She's the square for liking Rod McKuen.
She shook her head and opened the book. There was a little bag and rolling paper. We went under a big Oak Tree and sat, which was hard because we were still in our Easter outfits. Becca asked me to make sure no one was around while she rolled it. Once she got it together, she struck a match and lit it. "Now if anyone asks, we're smoking a cigarette."
It looked like a junior cigarette. She held it differently as well. She slowly breathed it in and then coughed a bit. Then she gave it to me to try. "Now breathe it into your lungs." I didn't know how I was going to do that because my lungs are only used to air, but I told her I'd try. So I took it to my lips and breathed it in. And then I coughed.
It all seemed very different after that. The first thing I noticed was that I could feel the veins in my arms near my wrists and the blood pulsing through them. Becca laughed because my face turned red. I could feel the blood all through my body, and then I could feel myself thinking. I could feel the cells in my body and the air molecules through my lungs. I put my head down and I could feel the earth vibrating.
Then I heard Becca's voice start reading Rod McKuen's poetry and it all seemed so... Each word had it's own picture attached with it, so I could see a movie while she read it. Suddenly, it was no longer so...
It only lasted a short while. Then I had a terrible headache and I wished I could pull my forehead off and stop my mind from throbbing. I remember that I kept grabbing my eyebrows, thinking that I could adjust them just right I could open my head.
So that's it. After a while, we went back to the convent and took a nap. My head hurt too much to enjoy much of anything. I was glad that we weren't caught. Becca asked me afterward if I liked it. I told her it was okay, but really, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I know some people love it, but I guess I'm not one of those people. But I was glad to do it, if only so I could not be square.
