Then Pong exploded, Leo came back and, final y, so did I.
Floyd joined the fun, scooting across the stage, crouched low, jaw jutting back and forth, playing air guitar like he was a white Chuck Berry.
I watched Floyd’s antics and only I could hear my laughter over the music. My eyes moved to Hugo who was doing a weird, super fly black man dancing to rock ‘n’ rol dance, shoulder’s moving up and down, hands tucked tight to his chest, head bobbing, feet moving around in a wide square.
The crowd was there, feeding us but they’d also somehow melted away.
The band was al on its own. We were the only ones in the club and we were tight, most ev’ry night and there was no mistake about it.
Buzz, his bass not needed in the song, was jumping up and down, a wide smile on his lips, tears streaming down his face, his bass flipped around so it was at a slant along his back.
I was working the stage, working the band, fol owing alongside Floyd as he made another crazy crouch-walk back across the stage.
I tossed my hair, throwing my head back to do it and just kept playing.
I stopped, leaned forward at the h*ps and laughed open-mouthed in the direction of Leo who was moving his h*ps and shaking his head, his dirty hair in his eyes, grinning like a loon. I looked to Pong who was banging on the drums, swinging his wild hair around so much it was like a living thing.
Linnie would love this, my brain told me.
Linnie always loved this, I told my brain and she did.
Linnie’s favorite was always ZZ Top’s “La Grange”, she begged us to do it, every gig.
Here’s to Linnie, my brain whispered.
“Here’s to Linnie,” I whispered back.
I smiled at Buzz, he smiled at me and went to the microphone as the notes started to fade.
“Long live rock ‘n’ rol !” he screamed.
The crowd roared.
I nodded at the lighting guy.
The stage went black.
* * * * *
A bottle of Fat Tire beer was shoved into my hand by Duke when I came down the steps at the side of the stage. “We got trouble,” Duke growled but I’d already felt it. The high from “La Grange” disappeared in a flash and my eyes moved to the source of the trouble just as Duke plastered himself to my side and the band came clattering down behind me.
“What’s goin’ on?” Floyd asked.
I moved toward the back wal where Lee, Vance and a newly-arrived Mace had Monk pinned to the wal using nothing but their col ective badass presence to hold him there.
“And lighten the f**kin’ crowd,” I heard Mace finish on a snarl when I stopped several feet behind his back. I didn’t have to see his face to know Mace was not in a good mood. I just had to look at the straight line of his back and the tight way he was holding his powerful body.
“Have you lost your f**kin’ mind? ” Monk screeched, eyes huge and riveted on Mace.
“You don’t close down the door and lighten the crowd, I’m gonna lose my f**kin’ mind, make no mistake,” Mace returned and, honest to God, there was no mistake to be made in the tone of Mace’s voice.
Lordy be.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Four sets of male eyes moved to me but it was Monk who spoke.
who spoke.