Sarah Of The Moon by Randy Mixter Page B

his lunch on a bench outside his workplace and watch the masses rush from place to place. There were always attractive girls walking around him. He would often look their way as he ate, thinking he could fall in love with them all, and if one stopped to talk to him, just one, his heart would break out of his chest in excitement.
    “It was a short story tonight. You didn’t miss much.”
    He had closed his eyes for an instant, and now Sarah stood in front of him.
    “The children were tired after playing in the park all day.”
    Alex was about to explain himself when he realized that she was talking to the cat.
    “I’m disappointed in you Jezebel, electing the warmth of a near stranger to my delightful night tales.”
    Sarah sat on the chair next to him and scratched Jezebel’s head. The cat settled in on his lap, purring blissfully.
    “Once again a man comes between a perfectly good relationship,” she said as she stroked the cat into a higher state of bliss.
    They left the porch a short time later. Sarah had taken Jezebel from Alex and gently lowered her on to another chair where she fell instantly asleep.
    Sarah wore the same white dress as earlier in the day, but now she once again wore a ring of flowers atop her hair and sandals on her feet. Many of the young men they passed stared at her as Alex had once stared at the girls of Baltimore. On this evening, a few were courageous enough to ask where she was going and she always answered with the same word, home.
    The park was alive with people. Music played from transistor radios. Blankets dotted the grass, as did guitarists, flutists, and bongo players. Vendors hawked their wares, selling everything from snowballs to hand-made jewelry. The smell of marijuana hung heavily in the still summer air. Every so often a police officer, on his beat would walk by, not reacting in the least to the pot smokers around him.
    “The police let us alone in the park, unless we make trouble,” Sarah said. “Don’t let them catch you smoking on the street though.”
    “You’d never know it by Chick,” Alex said as they approached Hippie Hill. “He smokes the stuff everywhere.”
    “Chick is Chick,” she said in a way that made him wonder if there was a history between them.
    “Do you mind waiting by yourself for a little while?” she asked him once they had settled by the hill’s apex.
    Without waiting for a reply, she removed her sandals and ran away. She laughed as she left him and he smiled at that. It was only the second time he had heard her laugh, and he loved the sound.
    She stayed on the hill until the stars was bright behind her. At times, she danced in the pockets of shadow and moonlight, at other times she stood with arms and head raised to the night sky.
    Alex watched her throughout. Many walked around him, but none came near the dancer on the hill. On the cusp of a knoll, with a solitary tree as a companion, she danced alone.
     
    A different Sarah sat next to him upon her return. She was in good spirits, cheerful and bubbly. Her spirits were so high that he decided to put his ‘fire girl’ questions on hold for the time being.
    The crowds had diminished in the last hour, and the vendors had departed with the sunset. As far as Alex could tell, it was mostly flower children left. They spread out on the hill, a few on blankets, and others on the grass.
    “Some spend the night in the park when the weather is warm enough, even if they have their own place,” Sarah said as she looked down the hill.
    Many of the assemblage had formed into circles where musicians played and sang and men and women danced. Candles and flashlights animated the hill in light and shadow.
    “It’s a beautiful sight, isn’t it?” she asked.
    Alex turned to look at her. A current of air favored her at that moment, brushing the hair from her face. She gazed down the hill and her eyes sparkled in wonder. The light from the distant candles caressed her face, as a brush would stroke a