Chapter 15

Jason rode the Blast shuttle toward the fairgrounds. Aja sat beside him with a soft duffel on her lap. “Why do we need to be there by seven?” he asked. “It’s a seven thirty show.”

“They want me on stage for a sound check. We can wander around the grounds until about eight thirty, when I’ll go backstage and change into my costume.” She reached into her purse. “Here.” She handed him a ticket. “I almost forgot.”

“What’s this?”

“VIP seating pass for front-row seats.”

“No offense, but I’ll take my chances with the rest of the peons. I don’t like to be too close to the stage. Do you have any idea how loud it’s going to be up there?”

“I have an inkling. Keith said they’ll have monitor speakers set up so I should have no problem hearing myself.”

They approached the gate. Jason presented his WNLX vendor pass. “Miss -- you can’t bring that in here,” the agent said, pointing to her duffel.

She showed him her backstage pass. “I’m performing tonight -- this has my costume.”

“You should be coming in the artist’s gate, down on the south side. All right -- I’ll let you in. I need to inspect your bag.” Aja unzipped it and the agent peered inside. “That’s your costume?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m sorry I won’t be able to see your act. Go on in.”

They headed toward the North Satellite stage. “Keith said to go around the left side and there’ll be a checkpoint.”

“That must be it.” They approached a barricade with a guard and a sign reading, Backstage Pass Required Beyond This Point. Aja produced her pass and the guard let her through.

Jason paced around the grounds near the checkpoint. He glanced at the stage and saw Aja along with band members and some technical crew. A short time later he saw her emerge from the checkpoint. “I left my bag in the dressing room,” she said. “It’s not so much a room, just an area enclosed by pipe and drape.”

“Do you think it’ll be okay?”

“It has my name on it. I wanted to be able to stroll around the bazaar without someone thinking we’re shoplifting. You do know that Black people are ten times more likely to shoplift than whites, don’t you? Just ask them at Hubbards.”

“Point taken.”

They strolled around the bazaar. “Looks like a lot of over-priced junk,” Jason remarked. “Incense ... fabrics ... batik kaftans...”

“I think these earrings are cute, don’t you?” She held up a pair of large silver hoops with polished green stones.

“You’re sense of style is much better than mine,” he replied.

“They look like jade,” she said.

“They are jade, m’am,” the vendor interjected.

“And, they’re only thirty-five dollars. I think I’ll buy them.” Aja removed her billfold and proffered her Visa card. The vendor ran the card; Aja signed the slip and was handed a paper bag with the earrings. “I’ll wear these tonight.”

Jason checked his watch. “It’s almost seven thirty. We should head for the stage.”

“I don’t need to be there for another hour,” she protested.

“Let’s sit and listen. I’ve never heard JYARB in concert. I’ve heard OF them -- they’re kinda famous around here for being ... I dunno, from around here, but I’ve never heard them play.”

“All right.”

Jason sat on one of the benches set up in a semicircle around the North Satellite stage. Aja sat beside him and they laced fingers. A cadence from the band’s drummer started their set, followed by an instrumental vamp. The stage lights came up and Jason recognized them -- Willoughby in his Stetson hat, front and center; Keith to his right and their bassist to their left. Their rhythm guitarist was behind and to the left of Willoughby and a keyboardist to the right. On an elevated platform was their drummer with his drum set.

Their first number was a cover of “Smoke on the Water.” Jason leaned toward Aja. “Sounds pretty loud from here,” he said into her ear. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“I hope so,” she replied into his ear.

They sat through a couple more numbers. “You know,” Jason said between numbers, “I think your auntie had it right in the first place. These guys are rather mediocre. I’d say they’re basically a better-than-average garage band. I think they have some local cred simply because they are local. Not much great comes out of this town ... present company excepted.”

“Why do you say they’re a garage band?” Aja asked.

“They have two things common with garage bands -- weak vocals and no original material. So far, all they’ve done are rather vanilla covers of other bands’ stuff. The only original piece ... and I’m only assuming it’s original because I don’t recognize it -- is rather meh, don’t you think?”

“I suppose.”

“Their instrumentals are good. Keith is as good as any second-tier guitarist and their drummer is quite good. I think their bass player is excellent and their rhythm guitarist -- he can hold his own. Willoughby is the weak link.”

“When we rehearsed, we only did the numbers that I was singing. After I left they worked on their other songs.”

Jason checked his watch. “I suppose we could head over toward backstage.” Jason took Aja’s hand and they headed toward the checkpoint. “I needed to clear my head. They’re way too loud.”

“You’re sounding like my uncle,” she said and kissed his cheek.

“Loudness is like hot pepper sauce. A little goes a long way, and too much spoils the dish.” They reached the checkpoint and Aja retrieved her backstage pass. “Break a leg,” he said and watched her head past the guard.

Jason worked his way back to the benches and found a place to sit. The band on stage ran through a couple more numbers. He checked his watch -- it read eight fifty.

Willoughby stepped to his mic. “Tonight for our last number we have a guest vocalist. Please welcome ... Aja.”

Aja strode to center stage in her green satin gown and her string of green beads. She wore her new earrings and a pair of black heels. Her hair was down instead of being pulled back in her usual ponytail; locks fell in front of her shoulders and the rest cascaded down her back. Stepping to a microphone she worked it from the stand.

Their drummer pounded a cadence and Keith and the bassist played a short vamp. Aja began singing “Heroes”. After the first stanza she pointed a finger skyward and the band modulated up a fourth. This put Aja into her mezzo-soprano range, which gave her voice more power.

With instrumental backing, she belted out the remaining stanzas of the song, ending on an improvised short coda. The audience, whose applause had up to now been perfunctory, exploded into an ovation. She raised her arm in a roll-off gesture, the drummer pounded a beat and she reprised the final refrain as she had done the night before. Keith and the drummer provided an instrumental flourish. Aja bowed and the stage lights went dark.

The crowd’s applause soon became a chant: “Encore! Encore! Encore!”

The stage lights went back on, with Aja and Willoughby standing side-by-side. She turned and gestured to the drummer, who nodded in comprehension. Then, Aja faced the crowd and held the mic to her lips. With confidence Jason had not seen before, she sang the opening bars of “You Keep Me Hangin’ On.”

Their drummer added a slow beat and their bassist contributed a mellow stride line. Willoughby, in falsetto, provided some doo-wop counterpoint and some second voice harmony on the refrains. The song, however, was Aja’s and by the second verse tears flowed down her cheeks as she sang the lyrics, “Why do you keep comin’ around...”... “You only break my heart again”... “There ain’t nothin’ I can do about it!”

Finally she reached the final refrain and cued the band for a short instrumental bridge. She sang the last verse as a duet with Willoughby. The band added an improvised coda that ended with a drum flourish. Aja and Willoughby grasped hands, bowed low and the stage lights went dark.

Jason leapt to his feet, clapping vigorously and shouting, “Bravo!” Eventually the ovation died down and the audience dissipated. He headed to their meeting-place, the back stage checkpoint.

He looked at his watch. Ten minutes elapsed. Then twenty ... thirty ... forty-five. Finally, he spotted Aja heading toward him, her duffel in hand. “Jason,” she said.

“Oh, God, Aja -- your performance was brilliant. It gave me a hard-on, and that’s no lie.” He regarded her. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she replied. “Nothing’s wrong. We have something serious to discuss, though.”

“Then, let’s discuss it.”

“Not here. Not now.”

They arrived at the bus stop as the Blast shuttle pulled away. “Crap,” Jason exclaimed. “Now we need to wait for the next one.” He reached for her hand to lace fingers. She gave his a squeeze and released it. “Aja -- you’re starting to scare me. I thought after a performance like that, you’d be on cloud nine.”

“I have a lot on my mind, Jason.”

“We should’ve driven down here,” he remarked, “except that parking is impossible.”

“Here comes the next bus, Aja remarked. “You do know they run more than one. Not such a long wait after all.”

They arrived at her condominium and she unlocked the door. Once inside, Jason faced her. “Aja, what the fuck’s going on?”

“I need to get ready for bed. Tomorrow’s a work day for me, you know.”

“Yeah ... I know.” She headed toward the stairs. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“I’m fine on my own.”

She headed up the stairs and Jason bounded after her. He gingerly grasped her upper arm and she faced him. “Do you want me to go to my apartment tonight?” he asked with a lump in his throat. “I’ll go there if that’s what you want.”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think. I’ve never seen you turn off like this. Is it something I’ve done?”

A tear ran down her cheek. “No ... This isn’t about you, Jason. Of course you’re welcome in my bed.”

“Aja -- I love you. Whatever it is, we can work through it.”

“Let me get ready for bed,” she replied. “Then we’ll talk about it. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll use the bath room downstairs.”

Jason returned to her bedroom. Aja was still in the en suite bath. He stripped to his briefs, neatly stacking his clothes on a chair. Then he turned down the covers and slid between them.

Shortly Aja emerged in her white cotton slip. She picked up a bottle of lotion on the nightstand and rubbed some into her hands. Switching off the lights she slid in beside Jason and cuddled against him. “Jason, the reason I’m pensive is ... And, the reason I took so long backstage after the show is ... they want me to join the band. I’d be co-lead vocal, backing Willoughby on some numbers and taking the lead on others.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. You have more talent than the rest of them combined. Why would you want to join a band that plays church festivals and county fairs?”

“Willoughby told me that they’ve been hired to be the opening act for Melonheads’ fall Midwestern tour.”

“They’re going to open for Melonheads?” Jason asked.

“They think this is a breakthrough opportunity for them. Keith and Willoughby were really putting the hard sell on me, Jason. They decided they needed a female vocalist to balance their sound. My performance with them was sort of an impromptu audition.”

“An audition you passed with flying colors. Aja -- you brought that place alive.”

“I’ve always been taught to be humble, Jason. I recognize something very special happened there tonight. They’re telling me this is an opportunity of a lifetime. I need to know how you feel about it.”

He drew in a breath and let out a low whistle. “Wow ... Aja, I told you that you’re good enough to perform professionally.”

“Maybe I am good enough. I have no idea what a touring lifestyle would be but I imagine it’s brutal. I don’t think I have the energy for that. On top of that, there are no guarantees. The public can be fickle.” She caressed his cheek. “I’ve just settled into a rewarding relationship with you, Jason. I know it’s impractical for you to tour with me.”

He nodded. “There’s no way I could get that kind of leave-of-absence and still keep my job. What about your career at the clinic?”

“That’s the other thing. When I got my MD I swore an oath to use the science and art of healing to help others. I can’t uphold that oath if I’m touring with a rock band. What do you think I should do, Jason?”

“I want this to be your decision, Aja.”

“It will be my decision. Your opinion will help me make my decision. I value your opinion, Jason -- or else I wouldn’t have asked you for it.”

“I think joining them would be a bad move. I think it would be bad for you, and for them.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so much better than they are. Jason Willoughby founded that band, along with Keith. There was no doubt you upstaged him tonight. We talked about them being, basically, a very good garage band. In order for them to really break through, they need one of two things -- ideally, both of them. First they need a unique sound, to turn the vanilla covers that are their mainstay into memorable versions. You could do that for them, but at a cost. I think Willoughby would start resenting having his nose rubbed in what a mediocre talent he really is. You said you and he would be co-lead vocals. In no time, you’d be the lead and Willoughby would be history. This is the sort of thing that causes bands to break up. Then, where would you be?”

“I hadn’t thought of that angle. I think you’re right. What’s the other thing they need?”

“Good original material. I don’t know of a top-tier band that only performs covers, and what original material they have isn’t exactly chartbuster quality.”