that we remembered what this song had once been our sound track for.
We got our beers. By the time we made it back to our borrowed quilt, the song had ended and a new peal of excitement had broken out down by the stage. A couple was making their way toward the front in a spotlight. They wore full wedding regalia - the bride in a white silk dress that must've been a thousand degrees inside.
Off mike, the whole audience heard Jimmy Buffett saying, "When - just now?"
Then to the audience, his face grinning on the big screen, "Got a special dedication to the newlyweds, folks."
A big cheer, which got even more riotous as the audience realized the song he'd just begun was "Why Don't We Get Drunk (and Screw)." The bride disappeared below the audience. Maybe she fainted. Somebody knocked the groom's gray top hat off.
I had no special memories associated with this song, which was either reassuring or disappointing, depending on your perspective.
Maia caught me staring at her, tried to look annoyed. "Yes?"
"Nothing. I just - " Stop. Regroup. "What happens next for you - after you clear Garrett of all charges, get Pena sent to the asylum?"
She didn't look happy with the change of subjects. "My choices may be limited."
"Terrence call you again?"
"We've agreed to part company. My junior partnership is over. How amicable the split is, how it affects my chances at a job in another firm - Terrence claims that's up to me."
The "Get Drunk" song wound down. The cheering kept going. Jimmy Buffett yelled, "
Well what did you think I was going to play?"
More cheering.
Maia looked at me like she was choosing her words carefully. "Tres, I may want to look outside the Bay Area."
My heart slowed. "Such as?"
She circled her arms around her knees. "I want to defend people who deserve defending for a while. Coming out here - I may have been trying to tell myself something. I can see why so many Bay Area people have moved to Austin."
I stayed quiet.
"Nothing is certain, Tres. And you are not to get any ideas about my motives."
"No. Of course not."
"You would not stay in San Francisco for me. I would definitely not move here for you."
"Understood."
Something hung in the air between us - fluttery and unformed as a new cobweb, vibrating with the breeze. I was afraid to speak for fear it would rip.
The band started their next song. Jimmy Buffett sang about boat drinks.
I looked down the hill for Garrett, whom I'd momentarily forgotten about. There was no longer a girl on his lap. Next to him stood a biker - a guy in his fifties, with an enormous belly, grizzled beard, and a greasy gray ponytail tied with leather strips. His arms were flabby and lobster red, bulging from a leather vest that had the word DIABLO and a cartoon devil face stitched above the breast. The biker was pointing, his eyebrows raised, his face grim, as if making sure Garrett had heard his point.
Now Garrett looked shaken.
I was on my feet, pushing past a couple of guys with beers in their hands, not bothering to see if Maia was following me.
When I got to Garrett, the biker had vanished into the crowd. Garrett was staring into space, all his enthusiasm for the concert gone.
"You okay?" I demanded.
Garrett nodded, dazed. The parrot waddled back and forth on his shoulder, eyeing me accusingly.
Maia came up next to us.
"Who?" she asked. "And what did he want?"
"Nothing," Garrett said. "A friend of Clyde's. He was saying - he asked if I needed any help. That's all."
He was lying. I hadn't been brothers with him all my life and not learned to tell.
"Look," I said, "if there's a problem . . ."
Maia put her hand over mine.
She was right. It did no good to push.
Buffett kept singing about warm climates, but Garrett didn't seem able to focus. The little bit of spirit the concert had managed to instil in him had drained away.
After another verse, he mumbled, "God help me, but I think I need to leave early."
He asked if he could stay with me out at the dome for the night. I told him he could. I didn't ask why.
As we made our way back to the parking lot, the cheering and music getting farther and farther behind us, I tried not to think about what Garrett had said earlier - about coming here just to plan his funeral.
Chapter 28
When my eyes