Page 14 of A Little Campfire Blues
“Got it when the band was still together,” Axis admitted as he stood and dipped his head back, smoothing stray strands of hair out of his face so it trailed down his back in a heavy, sleek curtain when he straightened back up.
It looked as thick as ever, and at least seven inches longer than the last time I’d seen him, the longest strands reaching his waist.
“Wrote quite a few songs on it back when we were still on the same page,” Axis said as he helped Roman tug it up onto the shore.
“Let’s get it up on the deck,” Roman suggested. “We can bracket it in with the coolers and use the tie rope to tether it to the railing in case the wind picks up tonight.”
“Good idea,” I said as I hurried to help them. “Even with the air pump, it took a while to get all the compartments blown up.”
“Yeah, it is a bit much, but I always loved being out on it.”
“I can’t believe it had a compartment for ice and drinks and everything,” I said.
“Like the boys and I would have been caught dead floating around without beverages and something to snack on.”
“Okay, you’ve got a point there. I remember how much Duce and Bowie could pack away.”
“You should have seen them when they started packing on muscle,” Axis said. “Duce is a complete beast now. Bowie I haven’t seen in years, but he was pretty jacked the last time I laid eyes on him.”
“How long has it been?” I asked, unable to keep my curiosity in check.
His relationship with his band had never interfered with the relationship he had with us. In fact, his three band brothers had frequently joined us on camping trips, amusement park visits, and trips to the waterpark, never failing to engage with Roman and me whenever we were all together. Duce told me several times how much they appreciated us coming to the shows and even manning the merch table once they’d had stickers, keychains, and other small things to sell.
“Almost four years,” he said, his tone holding a pained note that was impossible to miss.
“Is that when the band broke up?”
“Nah, that was a little over two years ago, not too long after Roman had his accident.”
“Damn.”
We carried the inflatable island up onto the deck, bracing it with coolers and the coolers with the deck chairs, before tying it to the railing. Rocking it produced little motion, but by the time we had it secured, I had another question for him.
“Did Bowie quit?” I asked, stepping up to the railing where Axis was leaning, staring out at the ever-deepening red streaks across the sky.
“Not of his own choosing.”
“Oh.”
“We should shower and get changed,” he suggested, sighing as he pushed away from the wooden railing to head inside.
There was so much more I wanted to ask, but he was right; if we were going to get to the campfire, we needed to get moving.
“You’re bringing your guitar down tonight, right?” Roman asked as Axis moved past him.
“Yeah, I’ll bring it. I can’t promise that I’ll play, but I’ll take it along.”
And with that, he disappeared into his room, leaving Roman to stare at the closed door he’d vanished behind.
“I take it that’s still a sore subject?” I asked as I paused beside Roman, who draped an arm over my shoulders and tugged me against his side.
“I think so, but when we talk, he deliberately avoids saying much about his music at all, just that he still plays coffee houses and bars a few times a week. Most of the work he does now is voice recordings for audiobooks and short instrumentals for people doing podcasts and product trailers, that kind of thing.”
“I’m glad he’s still making a living doing the thing he loves.”
“Me too, though I get the sense that he doesn’t love it the way he used to, and that’s a shame.”
“Yeah, it is; he’s always been hella talented.”
