then out of the window, as if not daring to say out loud what was in her thoughts, and finally, as if defeating something in herself, she slowly said:

- They had something.

- Do ... who? - at first did not understand Stewart.

“Your mother and my father.”

Stuart choked.

- Why do you think so? He said, clearing his throat.

- A woman will never ask a boyfriend for no reason, without a reason to name her child in the name of their mutual friend. Especially the one that is with them in the same company.

“I'm going to be sick,” admitted Stewart.

- Why? - sincerely amazed Florence.

“Because ...” Stewart almost blurted out about his erotic fantasies about him, Florence and the motel in Albany, but he bit his tongue in time, saying something completely different instead: “It’s like an Indian movie.” And I hate Indian cinema. All these lost brothers and unrevealed sisters, separated twins ...

Florence laughed softly - sincerely, infectiously, eyes closed and head tilted slightly. Stewart unwittingly admired her, especially her hair, unruly scattered over her shoulders, and suddenly realized that this was his mother — the same Florence, after whom her parents, Stewart and Molly, named this woman.

“No, I'm far from this thought,” she said, laughing. - I do not think that we are stepbrother and sister. Although if this were so ... It would be such a joke of God, which still would have to be earned ... But these are just women's fantasies on a hot day, do not take them to heart and do not think too much above them. - She gently touched his hand. - In the end, even if suddenly our parents had something, then before my father began to meet with my mother. I don't think they all changed each other. Yes, at that time and in that environment there were very free manners, but I want to believe that our parents were honest with each other.

“Yes, you really know that time very well,” Stuart reached for his fresh. His mood was noticeably elevated, and he was grateful for that to his companion sitting in front of him. He did not want to question her faith - it was more comfortable to live and look at the world. - I imagine how you can not wait to get to this Woodstock. Only the name, the name of which is worth ...

“The name ...” Florence suddenly became sad. “That's it, and that is that one name ... I'm afraid of this Woodstock,” she suddenly said. “I'm afraid precisely because one name remains of him.” And I am very glad that you are coming with me. It is you. - She touched his hand again, holding the touch a little longer, but not so much that Stewart had time to squeeze her fingers in response.

- Yes, you throw this memorable gravestone out of your head, - he said a little irritably, sipping fresh. - You should not have been led to this field, it would have been enough for you to communicate with my father. Is it bad that even a memorial plate was installed? Yes, even where no one wanted to hear about the festival?

“Stewart,” Florence appealed to him for the first time, “it's not about the stove, understand.” The thing is that those people who will speak at this Woodstock have no right to speak at it. Do you understand? They can love that music just like me, but they don't play it. And that means it will be the wrong woodstock. Richie Havens will not open him, Jimi Hendrix will not close, rain will not rain over Ravi Shankar, and the guys from Grateful Dead will not be shocked. It will not be all this. Now, if at least one of those musicians — aged, hoarse, gray-haired, toothless from endless “trips”, but it was he — who would have performed there, I would have crawled there on my knees, on that damn airbase, because that would be IT . The present. And so ... I'm going to work there. And that's all. I'm going to write about how Kid Rock will perform, how Alanis Morrisette will sing, how Metallica will play. Do you understand?

Stewart sincerely did not understand how all this matters for Florence and why Kid Rock cannot sing like Richie Havens, but seeing how she was worried and what hope she looked at him, he chose to agree. Whether Florence believed him or not, he did not understand, but, catching her grateful glance, he sighed with relief. The further road did not seem to him any more.

They sat in the cafe a little more, killing time. I didn’t want to talk about anything else, and Stuart was even glad when it was time to leave.

Outside the city, Florence decided to look for music on the radio. Twisting the tuning knob and changing several radio stations, she suddenly stopped at one, catching a familiar melody, and made the sound louder, then leaned back and closed her eyes, as if she were instantly taken to the world inaccessible to others. Stewart smiled a little.

The old unpretentious song of Scott Mackenzie “San Francisco” sounded on the radio. Stewart listened and involuntarily succumbed to this unpretentious charm of thirty years ago. And the day outside the window seemed not so hot, and it seemed to Stewart that they were not going to Rome, but to San Francisco, where gentle smiling people, dancing naked on the streets of Haight-Ashbury, would meet them with flowers ... "Yes, do not forget to pick the flowers themselves - Scott warns about this, ”a thought flashed through him that made her mouth stretch to her ears. Stewart glanced at Florence, didn't she notice that stupid smile? - but when he saw her eyes closed, he calmed down and gave his face seriousness: in the end, he was driving, and excessive reverie could well lead them not to the air base, not to mention San Francisco, but to the morgue of Albany, state New York.

The song ended abusively quickly - Stewart even regretted it, mentally offended by John Phillips (“Dude, why should you write another couple of verses for Scotty's friend, huh?"

“Well, boys, girls, good hello, they gave you from the West Coast?” Yes-ah, what's the buzz on California beaches right now, eh? Wave, surf, tanned girls with 4th size, like Pamela Anderson. Admit it, you would like to be there now, and not on your thirtieth floor somewhere on Seventeenth Avenue, eh? Yes, they would, they would, I know it without you. Even in Miami, not as cool as in California, all of America knows. You're hot right now, Ms. a-ha-arco, and I'm hot now too. And imagine, in Rome, New York, is now even hotter. And the temperature rises - very hot guys gather there. Girls, if you go to Woodstock 99, be careful not to burn yourself! Guys, you too, by the way - in such a heat, the temperature of everyone rises ... Well, so that you do not think that you are the only ones, listen to another old song. About the heat. From the deceased Bon Scott. Have a nice trip!

Following the last words, a jerky, cheeky, endearing-straightforward, as it should be a man, burst into the air, like the hard riff of Aengus Young, then the uncompromising drums entered and the clown Bon Scott sang:

Life with love is so easy

On hand - one way ticket.

I have questions not with my hand,

I take everything that is given to me from heaven.

I'm not looking for reasons

On poems with love do not care.

On the highway famously rush,

To hell with friends not to be late ...

And into the crescendo of sound the choir merged - desperate, damned:

And I'm going straight to hell.

I'm going to hell.

And I'm going straight to hell ...

Stewart could not resist and podpel chorus - this is more consistent with the mood and the weather outside the window. Looking casually at Florence, he saw how she straightened and tensed, as if preparing to jump out of the car. “Does she really take it seriously?” Said Stuart.

The song is over. Florence turned the sound down and looked at Stewart.

“Just as ordered,” she whispered. - Nothing is random. Everything is very accurate ...

“Florence,” said Stuart, “it's just a song.” Not more. You can't live like this, understand - so twitching at everything ... So go crazy for a while. What are you doing something?

He said horrible, absolutely not caring about propriety, correctness and tolerance, trying to calm the woman sitting next to her, but she only looked at him and from time to time barely noticeably shook her head ...