Free Three Day Summer by Sarvenaz Tash Page B

into the shop’s windows. Rows upon rows of empty metal shelves gleam in the moonlight.
    â€œWow,” Cora says, eyebrows furrowing with worry. “I hope everyone will be okay. With food and everything.”
    â€œHow long can people survive without food anyway?” I ask her.
    â€œWell, technically, a few weeks. Water is a different issue, though,” she responds.
    â€œI think we might be okay on water,” I say, holding my hand up and letting raindrops collect in it.
    â€œYeah, I guess you’re right.” She pauses. “Of course, then there’s the matter of catching a cold. Or pneumonia.”
    â€œYou medical people are just a garden of optimism, eh?” I tease.
    â€œJust prepared for all eventualities,” she says. “It’s a fine quality to have in a doctor, trust me.”
    A couple of buildings past the market, we make a right, and walk down a large stretch of farmland dotted here and there with big houses. She holds my hand until we see a large gray house come into view. Then she takes her hand back and wipes it nervously on her dress.
    â€œSo . . . about getting into my house . . . ,” she starts to say as we walk under a big leafy maple at the foot of the driveway.
    But then the screen door slams open and I hear a gruff voice call out, “Cora Eloise Fletcher. That better be you out there and you better have an outstanding explanation as to why you’re coming home at midnight .”
    Cora looks at me in mortification. I immediately sink back within the shadows of the tree trunk and try to nod at her encouragingly, telling her to go.
    She nods slightly, takes a deep breath, and steps into the light spilling out the front door. “Hi, Dad.”
    â€œHi, Dad? That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”
    â€œThings ran really late at the medical tent and there were people that needed help . . . ,” Cora starts.
    â€œAnd there were medically trained adults there to help them. What business does a seventeen-year-old girl with a curfew have being there this late? With all the drunken, drugged-up louses desecrating our land? Are you out of your mind, girl?”
    â€œTechnically, it’s Mr. Yasgur’s land,” I hear Cora grumble.
    â€œWhat?” her dad says sharply.
    â€œNothing, Dad. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
    â€œYou can bet your bottom dollar it won’t happen again,” he says as Cora slowly trudges by him. “This is unacceptable, irresponsible behavior and I won’t stand for it.” The door slams shut behind them, but I can hear his voice fading away as he must be following Cora down some sort of hallway. “Just because Max Yasgur thinks it’s okay to invite the entire country to destroy our farms doesn’t mean my kids get to suddenly do whatever they want. . . .”
    Yikes. Suddenly I’m a little glad my father is the silent type.
    The tree shades me from the rain at least, but I’m not sure what to do. Obviously, I have to get back to the festival soon, but if I leave now, I won’t have said good-bye to Cora at all. What if I leave and she comes back out here looking for me? On the other hand, it doesn’t sound like her dad is likely to let her out of his sight soon. And on yet a third hand—foot?—how long will I have to wait before I’m certain she’s not coming?
    I don’t have a watch so I decide to count slowly to two hundred. If she doesn’t get out here by then, I’ll just call it a night.
    At seventy-three, I hear the click of a latch. Cora stands in front of a fence, about twenty feet to the right of me. She puts her finger to her lips and waves me over.
    Walking as quietly as I can, I keep a nervous eye on the front door of her house.
    She takes my hand, reopens the latch on her fence, and takes me through to a barn that’s standing on the far side of her backyard. We go to the side