“Make a home for love
“Like I never tried
“I could face my fears
“Stay with you for years
“Share the hope you give
“Take the risk of tears.
“But a trust once lost
“Touched your heart with frost
“And my courage fades
“I can’t face the cost.
I’d been smart to put a musical bridge here, letting my fingers sing hope down to pain on the strings. Words choked me, but it gave me time to find my voice again.
“I froze at my door as you turned away
“Didn’t say the words you asked
“Now the darkness falls. Here I stand alone
“And our final chance has passed.”
I let the last minor chord trail into silence. So much more I could say, but my throat was closing tight again, and not just from the soreness. “Goodnight, Black Rock,” I murmured, and the mic carried my voice to that enormous crowd as they broke into a thunderous roar. “Now let’s hear it for Chaser Lost, the best band and best friends anywhere. Live long, rock on.”
Then I set my old guitar down there on the boards by my empty stool, turned my back, and left the stage with the audience screaming behind me.
As the stage lights went out, darkness of more than one kind rolled over me. I glanced back at the seething crowd of fans. Right at the barrier in the front, I saw an older woman with silver hair still screaming and shaking devil horns in the air and beside her, a tall, heavyset man with curly red hair and a beard…Couldn’t be.I froze, squinting, my eyes a mess of afterimages from the lights. The man turned sideways, speaking to the woman, his mouth by her ear, and someone else screened him but I would know Lee anywhere.
Fuck! He’s here!I wanted to leap off the stage and run over there, but the roadies were busy all around me, getting Chaser Lost’s far more extensive pyrotechnics set up. Plus, if I ran out into that crowd now, after a show, I’d never get away from the fans to find Lee.
I grabbed the nearest roadie’s T-shirt, making her squeak. “Sorry! Emergency!” I pointed beyond the lights. Lee was now out of sight in the crowd but the silver-haired woman still stood by the barrier. “You see that woman with the bright silver hair? She’s with a guy— tall, red hair and beard, younger than me. His name is Lee, she might be Yolanda. Whoever she is, it’s the guy I want. Ask them to come backstage here. Beg if you have to. Getthem through the barrier, offer them a backstage pass. Can you do that?”
“I’m supposed to—”
“Please? Life and death. Seriously.”
“I can try.” She hurried down the steps and around the end of the stage.
As I watched her, I yanked out my phone and powered it on.Come on, come on.The instant I had bars, I texted Lee.~Is that you? Are you here? Stay put!If I was wrong, I’d look nuts and desperate but I didn’t fucking care.~I’m sending someone to get you. A young woman, blond.I had no idea who she was. On tour, I got to know all the roadies, but I hadn’t memorized names this time.~Please, come talk to me.
I got no answer. Then again, the chance he’d hear his phone in the still-loud crowd wasn’t great. I stumbled down the back steps. Quinn caught my arm. “Hey, doing okay?”
“I’m fine. Break a leg with your set.”
“Just don’t break a leg for real.” He let go of me and turned away.
I couldn’t see the audience now. I ran around the stage in the direction the blond roadie had gone. For a minute, as I scanned the waving fans along the barrier in the harsh light and deep shadows of the light poles, I didn’t see anyone— not Lee, not the older lady, not even the roadie. My heart sank. Would Lee really come to hear me sing and leave with no contact at all? I’d never find him in the crowds or spot where he was staying in the huge field of tents and vans and RVs that stretched out around the venue.
Then there was a disturbance in the crowd. I saw the roadie push through and approach one of the security guys manning the barrier. She showed him her badge and they spoke together. The roadie pointed toward our stage where the musicians of Chaser Lost were taking their places. I waved wildly, not sure if they could see or recognize me but hoping my face was worth something. They headed off toward a gate down the fence. Lee and the older woman appeared from deeper in the crowd, following the roadie with difficulty along the barrier, dodging around people. I held my breath. Lee didn’t turn my way. In the uncertain light, I couldn’t make out his expression. Was he happy? Pissed off?
At the gate, the guard unhooked the barrier enough to let the roadie, Lee, and the silver-haired lady through. Then he closed it back up and planted himself there, arms crossed, eyeing the fans. A few crowd members seemed to be waving or shouting toward the blond roadie, but she didn’t look back, just led the man I desperately needed to see across the desert sands toward me.
