Uniforms

I don’t know how long I stared at that letter. It didn’t make any sense, didn’t I live in the 2020s? Wasn’t I born in the… when was I born? I couldn’t remember the year I was born. Whenever I thought about it my mind was overcome with a fog that made it impossible to think. I knew my age of course, I was 20, and from there it was simple enough math to figure out when I should have been born, but it was impossible to just remember when. Eventually I set the letter down on the desk and moved over to the window to take a look outside. There was a light shower of rain and the clouds overhead cast a miserable grey over the whole area, but looking at the cars and the few people walking around it seemed undeniable - this was the 1960s.

The final method of confirmation was checking my wardrobe and the clothes in it. I opened it gingerly and took the first jacket of the hanger to check the label. 1961. I checked the next one, 1965. The next one, 1966. And as if all that wasn’t overwhelming enough, tucked away at the far left of the wardrobe was perhaps the most damning and scary identifier of the decade I was in. A US Army jacket, the classic olive green drab, with my name sewn above the pocket. I took it out and looked it over in full and visions of jungle, napalm and helicopters materialised before me. Then my actual ‘memories’ replaced them, memories of sitting at checkpoints, banging hookers and harassing locals. The details were fuzzy.

“What the fuck…” I muttered, putting the jacket back into the wardrobe. I finally changed my clothes and cleaned up the room, but the whole time I was lost in thought. Voices appeared without prompting in my mind as I moved around the room.

“The 60s eh? What a time to be alive, think of all the fun you can have with all those free drugs.” a frantic, almost deranged voice spoke.

“And all that free love!” an overstated, lustful voice added.

“But we’re enrolled in a college course! Think of all that studying you’ve got to do! Oh god what horror! Exams! Coursework!” this time it was a nasally voice that spoke up.

“A psychedelic dreamscape awaits us… let us push the boundaries of our mind’s capacity and uncover worlds unknown.” entered a wistful, dreamy voice.

My internal thoughts continued their debate as to the course of my life now as I robotically cleaned my room and deposited my dirty clothes in my hamper. By now I was exhausted. The mental toll of trying to understand just what had happened was finally taking effect, so I lay on the bed and stared at the bare ceiling. Thoughts swirled ceaselessly, the voices bickering around my head pecking away at my mental state. At last a real physical concern drew me out of my encroaching insanity - I was hungry. Very hungry.

The cupboards were bare, save for the section that Joe had clearly designated as his own. The fridge was equally barren, save for the few cans of beer I had clearly been unable to finish last night. There was nothing else for it, I had to brave the outdoors and go shopping - with absolutely no idea what to buy in this new, old, time. I had no umbrella or coat either, so I would have to simply suffer the rain.

My adventure would be postponed, however, by the sounds of squabbling beyond the front door. As I went to open it, someone knocked loudly causing me to jump. Joe peeked out of his bedroom and watched as I yanked the handle and opened the wooden door.

“The Soviet Union is the bastion of the revolution, it is the great Socialist Superpower! Who are we to deny their methods as anything but a success of Communism.” a man wearing large glasses, a black beret akin to Che’s, and dark brown jacket was talking to a girl who looked about as close to the stereotypical San Francisco hippie as you can picture. Long, burnt orange hair, round blue glasses (despite the overcast and rain) and - most oddly - an umbrella hat.

“The Soviet Union is, like, basically fascist, man. Look at what they did in Hungary, no good socialist should agree with that kind of killing.” she hit back lazily. Oh this was going to be fun.

“The Soviet Union gave the greatest sacrifice in the war against fascism-” the bespectacled Communist began, but the girl turned and simply ignored him.

“Yo, I’m Daisy. I’m living here.” she smiled and tried to walk through the door, but was stopped by the ridiculous umbrella hat she was wearing. “Oh right, forgot about that.” she took it off and chuckled.

“I’m Leonard, it’s nice to meet you.” Leonard, the Communist, stook his hand out. I shook it and let him in along with his giant trunk of luggage. I noticed that Daisy had opted for a hessian sack.

“Uh, hi. I’m Harry.”

“Joseph, but you can call me Joe.” Joe and Leonard shook hands, but I could tell Joe had his eye on Daisy. We all stood around awkwardly for a second, until Leonard seemingly remembered what he was talking about.

“Anyway, how dare you belittle the sacrifices of the Soviet Union against the Nazis?” Daisy rolled her eyes as Leonard carried on. Joe, clearly out of his depth, shared an amused glance with me and ducked back into his room.

“I’m going out to get something to eat.” I called out over Leonards inane ramblings, Daisy perked up.

“Yeah I’ll go, I’m starving.” she unceremoniously dumped her sack on the floor and pushed past Leonard, who seemed quite affronted, but soon got over it. We closed the door behind us and Daisy affixed that ludicrous umbrella hat back on her head. “Thanks for giving me an out.”

“Yeah don’t worry about it. He was getting on my nerves too.” I give her a smile, which she returns in kind.

“Yeah. I think I want to bury him alive and listen to him murmur about Stalin in the soil.”

“That bad, huh?” she nods slowly. “Quick question.”

“Hm?”

“What’s with the umbrella hat?”

“Keeps me dry.” I couldn’t argue with that, I guess.

“What about the sunglasses?”

“Stops random people from noticing how fucking high I am.” Nor could I argue with that. I laughed at the frankness of her answer, which in turn caused her to laugh. “What do you major in?”

“History. You?”

“Law.”

“You’re fucking joking.”

“Nope. I study Law.” I burst out laughing, there was no way. She laughed again also. “I know, I know. It’s a shit major that I don’t care about, but my parents made me do it. That’s why I told them I’ll only do law if they let me come here.”

“Jesus. That is honestly the last thing I would’ve expected. Pays well though.”

“Yeah, if you actually pass. My classes are full of these disgusting little fascists, the kind of dicks who prostrate themselves for approval before authority.”

“Like Chief Justice Earl Warren?”

“Oh god, don't mention him. They don’t go five minutes without bringing up fucking Warren. Where are we actually going by the way?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know anywhere around here.” I patted my pockets and realised I also didn’t have my wallet. “I don’t have my wallet either.”

“I’ll pay, I guess. There’s a diner just down here I think, it looked like one anyway when I drove past it.”

“You drove here?”

“Yeah?” I just stared at her with bewilderment. She really had no idea why that might be bad. She was correct though, there was indeed a diner at the bottom of the street that we went in and sat down. It was very basic, I just ordered a burger and fries with coffee and Daisy ordered pancakes. The food was okay, but it did the job of filling me up and the coffee roused my energy greatly. “So, why’d you choose Berkeley?” That was a good question, and it was impossible for me to answer sincerely because I hadn’t chosen Berkeley - I just woke up here. Of course I couldn’t admit that, I’d sound like a lunatic, so I had to come up with a reason and fast. Luckily the voices returned to lend a hand.

“Wow she’s beautiful! Tell her how you’re into all that free love bullshit and then fuck her brains out!” the lustful voice from early roared triumphantly.

“No, no, no. Drugs. You’re here for the drugs and the partying. Yes, all the booze too. Definitely. She knows all about that!” came the manic voice

“Drugs… yes… but not for simple carnal pleasure! To expand your horizons and witness the majesty of human experience, that’s why you’re here!” said the wistful, dreamy voice

“The University of California is a well respected educational institution! You are here to learn, to study and to prepare yourself for the world after your time in Vietnam.” retorted the strict, nasal voice. I settled on a compromise.

“Well, Berkeley is a respected college. Can’t hurt to have a degree from here and people say it’s fun. I’m a long way from home too, meeting new people.” I gestured at her as evidence.

“Cool, where are you from?”

“Michigan. Holly, near Flint.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Figures. How come you chose Berkeley?”

“Partying and free love, man.” She smiled and waved her head from side to side. Truly she was the stereotypical Berkeley hippy, I couldn’t have crafted a better impression if I had tried.

“I fucking told you!” the lustful voice called out from the depths, though I quickly shoved it back where it belonged.

“And where do you hail from?” she chuckled at my odd turn of phrase.

“Seattle, way up north.”

“Yeah, nice place.”

“You’ve been?”

“Yeah.” I was stationed in Washington for some training some time ago. Or, was that technically a long time in the future? “Family holiday when I was a kid.”

“What’s your family like?”

“My dad died fighting in… Korea. My mom-” she killed herself not long after I was born. Perhaps that was too depressing to bring up now though. “-uh, left. I don’t know what happened to her.”

“Heavy. My parents just hate me. Which makes it only fair that I hate them back.” I nodded in encouragement. “And my brother is over in Vietnam. He writes to me about it, man that shit is depressing. You know we’re losing, right? We’re killing babies just to lose.” I clenched my jaw when she brought up ‘Nam. It was an instinctual reaction of repugnance. Not with her, just with Vietnam.

“I’m well aware.” I replied curtly.

“And that fucker,” she pointed to the top corner behind me, I turned around to see a television up there with Lyndon Johnson’s protruding face on it “is the one responsible. How many kids did you kill today, fuckhead!” she proffered a fierce middle finger to the President. I didn’t say anything, but called the waitress over to pay. Then I remembered that I wasn’t paying. Daisy didn’t complain though, she just handed over the money and we made our way back home. I had hoped to be free of any more new people or drama for the rest of the day, but it wasn’t meant to be.

Sat on the sofa, talking to a very animated Leonard, was a Black Panther. Not the animal, a member of the Black Panther Party. Dressed in a black leather jacket and donning a black beret, similar to Leonard’s own, they were having a spirited discussion about Marxism. As one might expect.

“-liberation can only come with total worker’s liberation.” the Black Panther proclaimed confidently, to which Leonard nodded fervently.

“Oh, Darryon, these are the other housemates.” Darryon turned around, allowing me to notice the black sunglasses he was wearing.

“Hi Darryon, I’m Harry.” I raised my hand in greeting, he returned the gesture but his gaze was fixed on Daisy. She seemed almost transfixed by it.

“And who are you, honey?” his deep baritone voice filled the room.

“I-I’m Daisy. Pleasure to m-meet you.” she stammered out, face flushed red.

“Alright.” Darryon grinned. Joe then appeared from the kitchen, beer in hand.

“Oh, Harry, Daisy you’re back. I was just suggesting that we go out tonight as a way of getting to know one another. There are some great bars around here, I was reading about it on the journey over.”

“S-sure.” Daisy stammered, before regaining her composure “Yeah, sounds like fun!”

“Sure, let me grab a shower though.” I added. I had never been invited for a night out before. I had been to bars, sure, but never with other people. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I showered, anxiety welling up inside me as it dawned on me that - for the first time in my life - I felt as though I was forming friendships. It wasn’t just that actually, I realised that I felt comfortable in the world. Sure, it was strange and disorienting being back in time - obviously - but I felt an ease with things here already in a way that was rare before.

It’d take a while, but I knew then that I had found home.