Cadillac Couches by Sophie B. Watson Page A

again. Once we were back in the car, I could play them over and over. I would put the she-devil out of my mind, forever, she was just some hippie girl like thousands of others, a girl just like me. And maybe it wasn’t even her. It didn’t matter anymore anyway, his infidelity. I was a woman who was moving on. I had new music to lead the way.
    I found Finn and Isobel sharing a beer. “Holy shit! That was incredible! I mean, wow. She rocked so hard I can’t believe . . . she’s made of fireandwaterandsmoke and passion, hallelujah . . . !!!”
    â€œCalm down, ma bichette,” Isobel said.
    â€œIsn’t she awesome!” Finn agreed.
    â€œPas mal,” Isobel said.
    â€œNot bad? She’s a revolutionary, a radical. A hero!” I gulped.
    â€œI don’t know . . .” Isobel said.
    â€œWhat’s not to know? She rocked!” I was ending our conversation right there. I didn’t want to sully my high with irritation. Isobel’s blaséness disturbed me. She had to have been affected. Surely. What was the problem? Finn took his last sip of beer, then stood up.
    â€œWell, see you, girls. Thanks for the ride. Thanks for the laughs. I saw Joe over there, and he said I can camp here for the weekend and go home with him.”
    I looked over at Isobel pleadingly. Now that the time had come, I was sad to see Finn go. I felt it in my stomach. He had become part of our unit. He brought us to Ani. But she was unflinching. I hugged him for what felt like a long time. “See you soon, Finn. Thanks for everything.”
    â€œNo worries, Annie. I hope Hawksley gets a chance to experience you and fall passionately in love like he should.” He looked at Isobel and she said, “Salut. Arrivederci, Adios, hombre.” She was trying to be breezy but was falling flat. Finn reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. He nodded at me and walked away.
    â€œWell, I guess we should go to the can and then get back on the highway. We can listen to the Ani tapes! Unless, you feel like sticking around?” I asked, trying to detect any signs of doubt about Finn in her eyes.
    â€œNo, let’s go quickly. I don’t want to keep bumping into him after this.”
    Back on the gravel parking lot, I took the wheel. Isobel dozed off almost as soon as I started the engine. I was amazed she could be sleepy after that gig made me so high. I put in one of Ani’s tapes with the volume on low. Whenever my mind drifted toward that girl, I steered it back to Ani. I drove away singing along to the little bits I’d picked up and tried to imagine what it would be like to be her. To be a travelling minstrel. Taking the Greyhound bus from city to city. Sleeping in late, staying up late, having adventures, living on the road, having big diner breakfasts, loving and leaving. Writing beautiful poetry in cafés. Wowing crowds across the continent. I wanted that lifestyle so badly it made my mouth go dry.
    I replayed the concert in my mind, relishing again the high. All the girls there at the show seemed to be veterans, singing along, knowing all the words. They were part of a world I knew little about. The kind of people I saw at health food stores who read Ms. magazine and boycotted Nike. I had been missing out. It felt like someone had taken my perspective with her bare hands and adjusted it with a major screeching crank so I could see better. It felt big. Isobel was snoring.
    At the next gas station, while Isobel snoozed in the car I went to the payphone and collect-called my dad.
    â€œHi, Pops.”
    â€œHi, sweetheart, how are you? Where are you, by the way?”
    â€œIsobel and I are on a road trip. Sorry I didn’t let you know before.”
    â€œWhere are you headed?”
    â€œTo a gig in Montreal.”
    â€œThat’s a long way for a gig! Did they give you time off work?”
    â€œNo problem, Pops. Listen, did I ever