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myself off and if the pillow was wet with tears later, I didn t notice.
Unguarded Minute
It didn t take long to get our first gig as a threesome in early
summer I sent out the demo tapes and had booked the gig within a
week. So it was that a few weeks later we had our debut at this hole
in the wall place in Jamaica Plain, one of those places whose legend
is larger than the dance floor. It was a weeknight, maybe fifty
people scattered themselves around the place. I barely noticed
them. It was almost as if there were just the three of us, and yet it
was nothing like a rehearsal. Ziggy came to life, howling and
leaping off the low stage, then climbing back up like a four-legged
spider, and never missed a note. I got so caught up in watching
him that I almost missed hitting my footpedal before the solo in
our third song. I closed my eyes, then, letting the solo carry me
through to the other side where I passed the strand of melody back
to his voice. I opened my eyes. He was lying on the floor between
my legs, making like the microphone was an ice cream cone. Or
something else. I felt my breath go ragged as I closed my eyes
again, felt him brush my calf as he crawled away.
Love s never what it seems to be, he sang. At that moment I
couldn t remember if I d written that lyric or if he had. He
might ve. But at that moment my brain was so full of noise and
music and lust I couldn t think straight. I felt like my arms and
fingers were part of some perfect machine, creating and recreating
the music from the set list without my being involved. My eyes
followed Ziggy around Bart, down into the crowd, back to center
stage. If charisma was a magic spell, Ziggy was casting it far and
wide. I could see a woman on the dance floor, swaying, her eyes on
him like she was hypnotized. Other people nodded their heads in
time and were caught up in it. I wasn t the only one, I told myself.
Bart came as close as his cord would allow and I realized he had
been trying to get my attention. His eyebrows pointed toward the
clock on the wall. He mouthed something I couldn t make out, but I
saw his meaning, we were going to come up short. A set that had
always taken us an hour in rehearsal was about to expire at 50
minutes.
We finished the last song on the list, a fast, hard bang of a song
called Desire. People were clapping like they meant it. Ziggy
turned to face us. More? he said, his eyes glassy and his face
shining with sweat.
Both their eyes turned to me. No, that s enough. They liked it,
let s not give them some half-assed unrehearsed bullshit.
Okay. Bart unplugged his bass.
Why? Ziggy frowned at me.
I just said, we ve done enough, alright? They re impressed,
let s get while the getting is good. I unplugged the guitar, turning
away from his dark, intent eyes.
He spoke into the microphone. Thank you folks, we re Moondog
Three, but the life had gone out of his voice. I rolled up my cord,
took a step toward him, but he turned away, toward the edge of
the stage. He jumped down into the arms of a blond woman I d
never seen before. That was the last I saw of him that night and as
I went through the motions of packing up I felt like there was an
empty space next to me where he had been. I kept looking for him,
hoping he d come back, thinking we could grab a bite at Charlie s,
maybe, but he was gone.
Sweet Hitchhiker
I picked up our pay in cash from the club owner. Seventy five
bucks. Michelle helped us load our stuff into Bart s car. Good thing
you guys don t have a drummer, she said, looking at the packed
back seat. How are we going to unpack when we get home?
What do you mean? Bart said. We ll just go dump
everything at the rehearsal space.
Michelle crossed her arms. All three of us? I guess I can sit on
your lap if Daron drives.
Bart nudged me. Hey, Earth to Daron, are you in there?
What? I didn t feel like I was all there. Part of me was still on
the stage, frozen in a moment in time. The other part was
wondering where he was now. My mouth went on. I can t drive.
What do you mean, you can t drive? You never told me that.
Michelle looked at me like I just said I came from another planet.
You never asked. I d never seen Bart let anyone drive his car
before, not even Michelle, anyway. I don t have a license, I never
learned.
Michelle raised an eyebrow and shrugged, That must ve been
hell growing up in New Jersey.
I didn t go out much. I pointed at the front seat. Well, you
can sit in my lap if you want.
Once we had settled in, I sank back down into my daze. Michelle
was curvy and good-smelling in my arms and I waited for the ride
to be over with an anxious stomach. Loading in was easier than
getting out of the club. Our rehearsal place had ramps instead of
stairs and we rolled the amps right on up. When our cubicle was
padlocked, Michelle bumped me in the arm. Good thing you guys
have insurance, huh?
Yeah.
So, aren t you going to ask me how it sounded? She steered me
back to the car where Bart was waiting. I got into the back seat.
Sorry, I said, I m kind of out of it, now.
I guess that means it was a good show for you, she said,
rolling her window down a crack.
You could say that. I leaned back in the seat. Bart, how bout
you?
Bart gave us a short technical rant about monitors and not
being able to hear me all the time and other things that had
bugged him. Some part of my brain was taking it all in, storing it
for future use, maybe, but I wasn t processing any of it as it went
in. Yeah, I said at the end. Boston was going by outside the car
windows. Hey, you can leave me off right here.
Here? We were at the edge of downtown, nowhere near where
I lived.
Yeah, I m going to get something in Chinatown. I guess I
would have usually asked them to come along. I guess they knew
that because they exchanged glances in silence. Right up here s
fine.
Bart pulled the car over at the corner of the theatre district, all
two blocks of it. He looked like he was about to ask if I was okay, but
then switched to: See you tomorrow for rehearsal?
Yeah. I waved to them. See you. I felt their eyes on my back
as I made my way down into Chinatown.
All the neighborhoods in Boston are small, much smaller than
New York, for example. Chinatown is maybe four short blocks on
either side. On one edge is the red light district, which is all of two
and a half blocks on Washington Street, with one XXX theater, two
or three adult bookstores, and one peepshow. I ended up in one of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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