Scene 9

He is uncomfortably crunched in a white, plastic folding chair in the reserved seating area at the Philadelphia Folk Festival. It has been dark for over an hour now and he was bored by the last performance and amazed by the one before that.

While his wife has gone to the bathroom, he waits anxiously for the main event. For the reason they bought tickets for the reserved seating area. They planned to make this trip home, in fact, to see in Iron and Wine live.

She climbs the hill to the port-a-potties and he is nervous that she is not back yet and the MC is onstage killing time before introducing the singer/songwriter who is terribly appropriate for a folk fest.

Finally, the great southern, bearded man strides enormously from behind a curtain to the front of the stage.

Standing and applauding at his seat, about 10 rows back, he sees a few eager teenagers move to the large open area in front of the stage. Then a few more. Then a few more.

He envies their enthusiasm and wants to join them. But at 23, bespectacled- and himself bearded- he wonders if he will stick out too much.

He looks behind over his shoulder, up the hill and does not see his wife.

Screw it, he decides. I was probably listening to his music long before they were. And with that he makes his way to the front.

The gigantic figure in the simple white spotlight begins with a song that was featured in a highly-celebrated independent film five summers earlier.

Wow, he thinks, swaying to the melody. It’s been five years already?

He is relieved to see that many other 20-somethings have joined in the rhythmic, organismal swaying. When he feels soft, white fabric brush his leg unintentionally, he notes the girl moving (almost without knowing it) beside him.

This makes him uneasy and while the guitar intro ends he is looking over his shoulder again.

“I am thinking it’s a sign...” the man sings.

He sees his wife’s summer-freckled skin and red/brown hair through the dark. She enters the seating area and continues down the hill, and her strapless blue sun-dress flows as if it were made specifically for this moment.

She is gorgeous today, he thinks.

“... that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they’re perfectly aligned.”

People are reverently singing along now. He sees her go back to their seats and walks up the aisle to where she is.

“Will you come to the front with me?” he asks her.

“No, I think I’ll sit.” she answers. “But you should go back.”

“You sure?”

“mmHmm!” she says, cheerfully affirming.

“Okay.” He is surprised that she doesn’t want to be together, but glad she has not asked him to stay with her.

“They will see us waving from such great heights...” the song continues.

Returning to the place he had stood, he wonders about whether it is better to be alone, with one very special person, or with a collective mass.

He sings along with the rest of them in the chorus, rocking left to right.