Author’s Note: This is not an erotic story, but there is some sex here. Again, this was built around the germ of an idea that took on a life of its own. In that regard, it’s not a stroke story. It’s an homage to music and the connection with the spirit world. Long before Robert Johnson, many artists were rumored to have sold their souls for the chance to perform at the peak of their artistry. From that, I tried my own spin on the myth. I try to put a lot of different ideas in my stories, so I hope I succeed in making you think a little. I hope you have fun reading this, because I enjoyed writing it. Happy Halloween!

Growing up, a lot of kids have a dream playing in a rock band. Life on the road and all that comes with it is part of the thrill. Reality is always different than the dreams. But when reality goes off the rails, just staying alive may be impossible.

We had booked our tour for the fall, when the local universities were in session, and the clubs where we played were in full swing. Our target audience was the college kids. We, ourselves, Band Hammer, were a few years out of school, so we knew the drill. Don’t tour in the summer, when all the students are home. Don’t tour in winter, since the holiday breaks and exams reduce the crowds. Don’t tour in spring time, since you’re competing against spring break.

That left autumn, and so we hit the road.

We started out from our base in the mid-Atlantic area and headed west in small steps. By the time of that tour, we had a good-sized following. We could expect up to a thousand or so paying heads at the gate in Chicago, Knoxville or Austin, and at least several hundred in smaller venues. Our Bandcamp and Soundcloud followings had put some money in our pockets from downloads, but touring was what paid the bills. T-shirts, merch and even CD sales at the shows made it worth the effort and allowed us to continue the illusion being ‘touring musicians’. Well, we were ‘touring’. And we were ‘musicians’. But we were never going to make a career of this. We were really just extending our adolescent fantasies of sex, drug and rock’n’roll and to that point we hadn’t fully exhausted our options yet. But we were close, despite some real potential.

The tour was planned for thirty-five dates, and we averaged four to five shows per week, which meant a lot of driving. With that kind of itinerary, the sex and drugs took a distant back seat to the rock’n’roll. After a show, we’d break down our own gear. Roadies? Ha!

We’d hopefully be on the road by about midnight. With some luck, we could get a few hours on the road towards the next destination before crashing at a motel somewhere. If we didn’t get out of the show by 2 a.m., we’d stay in town that night and try to make an early start in the morning to the next site, check into the next motel, crash for a few hours and then go for set up and sound check by about 4 p.m. Fighting a hangover means taking away time from something else, and that just wasn’t feasible for more than a show or two.

Travel was on our own dime. We had enough gear that we took three vehicles; Kevin and Ronnie drove their cars and I piloted my van. I had the guitars and bases, some of the small amps and Danny’s keyboards. We mostly played through house PA systems, but we did need to mic up smaller amps. It was enough gear, and with our suitcases, that it pretty much filled the van. Normally, Dan and Tyler rode in the cars as well with the other two, but occasionally, one of them would ride with me to break up the monotony.

Girls were just as tough at the drugs. Groupies? I can’t say we didn’t have access, but there just wasn’t time. By the time we had a few moments, we were sleeping, eating, setting up, breaking down or otherwise prepping for the next show. It was like being in the Army. Besides, most of us had girls at home.

Which was why we were so looking forward to Chicago.

It was five weeks and twenty-three shows into the tour, late-October by the calendar, when we reached Chicago, and we were a quintet awash in testosterone. Jerking off in motel showers only does so much to take an edge off and we were two-thirds of the way into the tour. We were in need of a break, or recharge or whatever word would be appropriate.

My girl, Anna arranged for all the band significant others to join us to meet in Chicago, where we planned two shows over four days (including a weekend) in order to give us some R&R. Anna was joined by Melanie, Ronnie’s girl and Liv, Kevin’s long-time girlfriend. Tyler was gay and out, dating Jake, an architect, who also made the trip. Danny was single, making him the odd man out.

The band’s caravan pulled into the cheap motel outside the Loop a little before 3 p.m. on Friday, and to our relief, our welcoming party was ready and waiting for us, already checked in. Hugs and handshakes were given all around, and each pair retired to their own room for a more personal reunion.

Anna welcomed me with a deep kiss and grabbed my crotch. “Howdy sailor,” she breathed into my mouth with a grin.

“Permission to come aboard, sir,” I laughed.

“Sir?” she whispered, her hands went to my belt and began undoing the buckle.

“Ma’am!” I answered. The time away, her familiar smell and warmth of her breath on my face had my dick harder than calculus. I leaned in for a kiss when she freed me from my pants.

We swapped spit for a few seconds, and she pulled away. “Have you been a good boy while you’ve been away?” She was teasing. She and I both knew I’d never find better than her; at least in the crowds that came to our shows. Her hand wrapped around me, iron in a velvet glove. I sighed softly before answering her.

“The best.”

“Still not good enough.” Using her grip on my little tiller, she steered me to the lumpy bed, where we took out our weeks of pent up frustrations on each other, atop over-starched, too-thin motel sheets. But to us, it was a bed of roses. At least until we finished, when we counted the friction burns on our knees and elbows.

By the time we all reconvened at the club, everyone except Danny looked exhausted but happy. Danny just looked happy. “I was the only smart one,” he said. “I caught up on some sleep.”

That night’s show was hot. By that point in the tour, we were dialed in with the set list, and we could predict each other’s riffs, weaving in and out of each other’s lines. Add to that, all of us were motivated by our reunions, and we were firing on all cylinders. There’re some nights on stage when you can just feel the energy, the connection with the crowd. That night we were plugged in to 10,0000 volts. Harmonies were sweeter. Solos seemed to pop. We sounded huge. We came off stage for our last encore, we were exhausted but there was that wired optimism that a few more shows like that one and we could just be one of those bands that actually makes it. Even the girls and Jake agreed.

It turned out; we weren’t the only ones who thought so. Some critics from the local papers were at the show and wrote rave reviews of our show in the next morning’s editions. When we showed up for Saturday’s sound check, the club manager met us and told us that night’s show was completely sold out. He knew we were booked for the rest of the tour, but asked specially about making a return after the tour’s last dates. He offered us a sweeter deal, and while we tried to play it cool saying ‘we’d think about it’, I saw the looks in the other guys eyes. There was real excitement.

Needless to say, we just about blew the doors off the joint that night as well. By the time we said our final good night, we had over a thousand new best friends and a more than a few dollars in our pockets from selling out all of our merchandise. The fans couldn’t get enough of us. Anna nearly screwed me to death back in our room.

We slept in Sunday. Well, we said we were going to. I was still feeling the buzz from the night before, I mostly just tossed and turned after a few hours of sleep. I could still hear the fans screaming for more.

We all met for breakfast at a small diner halfway between the club and our motel, which started out quiet, but I knew then that nervous energy that I felt was reflected in all of our eyes. Finally, Jake broke the ice.

“Are any of you fucking idiots going to say anything? That was amazing!”

You couldn’t shut us up after that. We first agreed to add more Chicago dates after the planned tour ended. And we needed to order more merch to arrive ahead of our shows so it would be there when we got there and we wouldn’t have to carry it ourselves.

We had the day off but then had to drive down to St. Louis by the next day. Danny and Tyler left the table to call ahead to the local college radio stations to hype the Chicago shows and try to build up more buzz. Tyler came back with a huge grin, saying that we were already one of the top requests on Washington University’s underground station, and that tickets to Monday’s show were almost sold out. The table hummed with good vibes and energy.

Anna and Jake had real jobs and would be flying back out later, but when Liv and Melanie decided to stick around for the next few cities and see how things went, much to the delight of Ronnie and Kevin, Jake called the office to take some extra leave.

Anna took me aside and asked if I was OK with her leaving.

“It’s OK, love,” I told her. “Who knows where this is gonna go. You keep the home fires going, and I’ll be calling you every night.”

She looked at me, with that long-time ease of comfortable lovers, her arms lightly around my shoulders, hands loosely clasped. “I’m really proud of you. I don’t say that often enough. You’re really on the edge of something. I can feel it.”

I grinned. I felt something too.

“Besides, I think you need to keep everyone grounded,” she nodded towards the table, where a small-scale food fight was breaking out, with laughter and joking spreading to the rest of the diner.

“You mean I’m the only sane one?”

“Relatively,” she leaned her head against my chest. “Please come home to me in one piece. I need you.”

I held her close, enjoying the warmth. “I promise.”

We finished the meal, tipping well for our damage caused, but even the crusty manager had the fever of Band Hammer, smiling as we promised to visit again in a few weeks.

Back at the motel, Anna and I dirtied the sheets one more time, a slow languorous fuck, before I saw her off in a taxi to O’Hare and her return flight.

The next time I saw her, Band Hammer was no more, and I was only barely able to keep my promise to return home in one piece.

We rolled on and kept the momentum going. St. Louis was not as great as Chicago, but for a Monday show, we had filled the place with young, money-spending fans. We changed up the set list a little, but no matter what we did, it just came together in a tight groove. When we left the stage to our last song “Hello, Cleveland!”, more than a fair number of the crowd were singing along with us. The confidence boost of that kind of crowd response and engagement made the drive to Columbia after the show seem like a drive to the corner.

The next night was a great set in a smaller club in Columbia. It had a real intimate feel, like when we were playing frats in college. But here we were in front of several hundred people there to see “the next big thing before they broke it big”. What a label to have! That kind of potential ... It was addictive. At the same time, it was new enough that it hadn’t gone to our heads. Well, maybe Kevin’s. He was the most boastful of us, but within the scope of things, Liv kept him pretty grounded.

We got into Kansas City for the first of two nights and I got the panicked call from home that started everything.

“Tim, please you’ve got to come home!” The words just spilled out of her, sounding thick and slurred.

“Baby, what’s the matter? What happened? Are you OK?”

“Nothing! I just, I just had the worst dream that you were gone! It was – It was so real! You were swallowed up – the whole band was gone it was like everything was - please!”

I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand what she was talking about or what had gotten into her.

“Honey, did you take something?” Anna was one of the most sober people I knew, but I was at a loss to explain why she was acting that way

“No!” she practically shrieked. “Tim, I’m fine! I’d never try to pull this, you know me! But, you’ve gotta stop before this gets you! You’ve got to come home. Please! Something really bad is going to happen and I need you! I can’t lose you!”

“Anna, nothing is gonna happen. You’re not going to lose me. We’ve come too far. Look, we’ve got head in for sound check in a couple hours and I’m about to get something to eat. Can you try to rest a little bit and maybe talk to your Mom? See if you can get a feel for where your head’s at?”

It took another ten minutes of her pleading and my gentle push to get her to calm down before I was sure she was gonna be OK. But for a while, I thought I may actually need to get a flight to head back home. Needless to say, the call and her genuine fear had put a damper on my good mood.

Regardless, we hosted two label A&R people before the show. We looked at among ourselves like “No pressure!” and while there were preliminary approaches made, we made no commitments. Still, it was pretty motivating to know that our destiny was in our control.

The show was solid. I tried to put Anna’s call behind me, but the combination of that and a bit of road weariness did get to me. The rest of the guys were fine and made up for me, but the connection with the crowd was just off. Still, backstage afterwards, the reps were excited and insisted they would check us out in Austin and a few other cities. Things were really positive.

With that kind of momentum, we had built and a series of good-to-great shows under our belts, there was some strutting going on. Who wouldn’t? A bunch of twenty-something guys close to reaching their schoolboy dreams? That was amazing! Kevin wore it a little more prominently; he sang more of the leads than the rest of the guys, and was a bit of a showman. Well, backstage after a few drinks he was showing more than his moves, running around with his johnson hanging out and waving it around to us, the girls and Jake and the backstage crew. He cornered a giggling Liv before moving her towards a small closet where they disappeared for a few minutes, with Liv’s giggling soon being replaced by soft moans.

That fuckin’ guy. If he was serious about acting like that, he’d be a walking sexual harassment lawsuit. He could preen a bit, but we loved him and knew he’d be back to normal soon enough. It was a form of blowing off some stress for him. To each his own.

I called to Anna after the show but she was already asleep. I left a message that I loved her and she was on my mind. I also let her know we were fine and that the labels had sent scouts for a few shows. She’d appreciate that.

The next night was back to normal and we were on fire again. The show was packed, we were grooving and left everything on the stage and still the audience wanted more. The manager of the club let us know we were welcome back any time.

Scheduling quirks put us in Albuquerque after, which was a good day’s drive. Not impossible but it would eat up most of our off day. We made an early start and after breakfast, made our way across Kansas before the trip would take us through the Oklahoma and Texas panhandles. We had to make a pitstop outside some farmtown which was more cornfields than town.

We got out of the car to gas up. This place was so old-school, they actually had a guy to pump the gas for us. We stretched legs and got some snacks in the shop while the old man tended the pumps for all three vehicles.

I stood outside and the old man made some conversation.

“We don’t see many of you long hair types here.”

I was tempted to check the calendar, and let him know we were fifty years past the hippies and free love era, but thought better of it and just nodded.

“Well, we’re just passing through. We won’t be troubling you.”

“Watch your speed. There are some traps in the fields. Maybe worse. They’re not forgiving of outsiders here.” It was tough to tell if he was judgmental or just offering some honest advice. I’d heard stories of these towns that used aggressive speed traps to fund all sorts of town budget issues. This may be his way of sharing a little kindness, even to us long hairs.

Kevin jumped into the lead car with Liv riding shotgun. He was still acting like a showman, here in the middle of nowhere but, again, he didn’t mean anything by it. Liv giggled, embarrassed by him

Everyone loved Liv. She was beautiful inside and out. I can only speak for myself, that although I loved Anna and she was my only one, I did have a bit of a crush on Liv. A few years back, and before Anna, it might have even been more than that. But Kevin was my friend and I’d never try anything to ruin that.

She had long straight blonde hair, a fresh natural look that had minimal make up and a long slim body. She was just the sweet and innocent half to Kevin’s occasional cock-of-the-walk boasting.

We pulled out of the gas station and drove through the byroads that were still packed with what I though was corn, although I knew nothing about farming. That shit was planted right up to the side of the road. It just had the effect of driving through a maze, where you could see nothing around you except the road in front of you and the overcast autumn sky overhead. It was a bit creepy.

Finally, we had made our way to a slightly bigger road that had some state highway number on it but was still two lanes. At least it had a shoulder. Kind of.

Kevin was in the lead and Tyler was driving the second car and I brought up the rear in the van. My cell phone rang, and it was a video call on the group line. I answered.

“Hey, what’s going on Road Ranger,” I grinned at Kevin.

“Yo, check this out,” and he turned the camera. It took a minute for the autofocus to work, but there was a steering wheel and blonde hair in a pony tail moving up and down in what looked like Kevin’s lap. Yup, he was getting some road head. The camera was bouncing as he drove, and also cycling from his grinning face to Liv’s head, and to Danny, asleep in the back seat so there wasn’t gonna be any cinematography awards, but it was pretty slick.

I giggled and got a bit of a thrill until I flicked my eyes up to the road. Oh shit.

We were on a straight road with no visible side streets, but there was a traffic signal with a big red light that Kevin was about to blow through. I could tell that he was too preoccupied to see it. I heard Tyler shout out in surprise

“Yo, what the fuck!”

“Holy shit!” I dropped the phone and slammed on my brakes as Kevin and then Tyler sailed through the signal as well. My tires locked up and I squealed to a stop about fifteen feet from the light. Most of the gear in the back was locked down but something heavy sailed into the back of my seat and gave me a good thump as I smashed forwards. The horn beeped from me hitting it. I groaned.

This road was straight as an arrow and just as flat. You can see for miles down it. I’d have sworn there was no traffic signal here a few seconds before, when I had looked up from Kevin’s video. There wasn’t a crossing road or even a path T-ing into this. It was just a light sitting in the middle of nowhere. A red eye looking down at us as we drove past.

I sat there idling, with that instant adrenaline rush from the shock, my heart thumping. For some reason I thought of Anna, and got my own little ominous vibe of something bad. The pain from my back, nothing major just a bump, brought me back. For a second, I thought the air around here smelled funny.

My phone was chirping from the floor. Tyler and Kevin were pulled over by the side of the road about a hundred yards down. I could see the cherried tail lights in the distance. I leaned over and picked up the phone.

The connection had never broken; we were still on group chat.

“... -mmit she almost bit my cock off!” Kevin was yelling.

“Holy – you guys OK?” Tyler asked.

I took a quick mental inventory and then piped up “Yeah I think I’m OK. Gear slid a little but I think everything is OK. Got whacked in the back.”

“You OK?” Kevin.

“Yeah I think so.”

“Well, come on then.” Tyler.

“Light’s red.”

“Man, fuck that light. Who the fuck puts a shit fuckin’ light in the middle of goddamned nowhere? Fucking hayseeds.”

Who said ‘hayseed’ anymore? Kevin seemed pissed. Maybe almost losing your dick does that to a guy. Probably he was pissed about getting his hummer interrupted?

“I dunno, man” I said. “This was weird.”

“Yeah, it’s weird, but we gotta get moving. And besides, how long is that thing gonna stay red for?”

Tyler was right. It was still red. And we were the only traffic on the road. We were the only living things around, other than the whatever it was that grew in these fields around us.

I peered up at the red light from below. It taunted me, daring me to cross the invisible line. Something wasn’t right. That gut feel; that sensation that someone was watching you. That ominous feeling that came from evolution to keep you from doing something stupid, something that could get you eaten. Or worse.

Something like exactly what I was about to do.

I gently goosed the gas and crawled through the red light and made my way to the guys parked down the road.

I pulled in front of Kevin’s car and got out to talk with them. My back complained a little from the gear sliding into me, but I thought I was just being a bit soft.

“Let’s check real quick to see if the gear is OK,” I said, swinging open the rear doors.

We didn’t have time to unpack, and there wasn’t much we could do in the middle of a damned Kansas field if something needed fixing. But a quick visual showed that everything looked OK and that we were in good shape.

Both the guys and girls had gotten out of the cars and stood by the roadside chatting about the surreal scene and Ronnie got a punch on the shoulder when he offered to drive, provided Mel gave him what Kevin got. I looked back at the red light staring at me.

“Yo, fuck this place,” Kevin said. I turned to see him taking a piss on the side of the shoulder onto the crops growing.

“Why didn’t you piss back in town?” Jake asked. “You had to piss after ten minutes?”

“I didn’t hafta go then. And I wanna leave a mark on this place. You try nearly getting your dick bit cuz of some boonie cops running a traffic scam.”

“I said I’m sorry!” Liv groaned.

I got back into the van and started it up. I paused for a few seconds while Danny and Ronnie pulled the cars around me and got back moving. I couldn’t wait to put this place behind me.

As I got up to speed, the itch in my brain started. A compulsion. I knew I shouldn’t have done it. I knew what I was going to see. Just the thought sent shivers down my spine. I tried my best to resist but in the end I was weak. I looked in the rear-view mirror to get one last look at the blooded eye I had crossed under along that straight, flat no-man’s land, but there was no sign that any traffic signal was ever there.

Albuquerque. We made it without any further issues or videos from Kevin. I think Liv may have threatened to actually bite his dick off if he ever broadcast her again.

Our little roadside adventures and the long drive meant we didn’t get to check into the motel ahead of time, so we went right the club and unpacked. Not that the rest of the drive went smoothly. After that little pitstop, every stop light, every brake light in front of me, even the setting sun were flame red eyes looking at me. It was a constant reminder of the dread I felt inside.

The show itself was good. The crowd was rowdy and ready for us, but we were ... so-so. We did fine. I doubt that anyone went home feeling they didn’t get their money’s worth. But for us, there wasn’t that voltage, that oomph that had made the last week’s shows so off-the-charts great. Well, it had to happen so we would just have to make it up on the next one. But throughout the show, every camera flash, every stage light transition, every door opening into a lit room seemed to leave a red afterimage in my peripheral vision, just out of focus. All of them were looking at me, and all knew my sins.

We were staying in a motel just a few blocks from the club; we had to make another big drive the next day as we doubled back towards Austin, but we had a break the day after.

Anna had messaged me that I would be single if I didn’t call her after the show, so as I walked to my room, I was happy to hear her sleepy voice.

“Hey babe.”

“Ohhhh, hey. How’s ... Albuquerque?”

“Yeah, we’re here. It’s ... OK. Altitude makes me feel a bit funny when I’m trying to sing for a while, but it’s not bad” I let myself into the room, set my duffle bag down and put the keycard into the power outlet to turn the lights on. I walked into the small room and looked around. A yellow envelope was on the bed. I made my way over to lay down.

“How was the show?” I looked down. My blood froze.

Sitting on my bed was a traffic ticket. I was suddenly very dizzy. “Ummm, not that great.” Anna was a million miles away. I stood there looking down at the yellow envelope like it was the first alien contact. I felt that unsettled.

“Oh?” she seemed sleepy still. “What happened?” I bent over, moving to touch the envelope. There was that itching in my brain again, telling me not to do what I was about to do.

“Hey, love? I just got in my room. Can I call you back in five?”

“Um, yeah. Sure. Is everything OK?”

“No.” It was wrong to say it, but I couldn’t lie at the moment. I didn’t give her time to get worked up, and I hung up on her. It itching got stronger.

I picked up the ticket. I was an ordinary traffic citation, with my van plate number and description and a $100 fine for running a red light. The penmanship was immaculate. The return address was some P.O. box in Kansas. There was a description of penalties for not complying including loss of license but I didn’t read the rest because the room was tilting. Or maybe it was me.

I grabbed my key and went to Kevin’s room next door.

He opened the door. I walked in past him. “Wanna beer?”

“Hey Liv.” She sat in the bed, texting.

“Hey Tim.”

I turned to Kev. “Did you get a –”

There were two yellow envelopes next to the crappy TV that was playing some reality family show. I went over and picked it up with two fingers like it was on fire. It was filled in with all of Kevin’s vehicle information. $350. His was an extra $250 for public indecency. Hope that piss was worth it. I picked up the other. Liv’s. $250 for lewd and lascivious behavior, both in that flowing handwriting. But instead of a vehicle, the information was her home address.

I held them up to him.

“Dude,” he said “What the fuck is with that nonsense?”

I held up mine.

“Ha! You got one too!”

This was all wrong. This was really bad. He snatched my ticket from my hand. “Hey, what the fuck? Why’s yours only a hundred?”

Did he not see what was wrong?

I took mine back from him and walked past Danny’s room to Tyler’s. Jake answered but I repeated the same scene, walking past him. I surveyed the room looking for...

Oh fuck. I found the tickets still sitting on his bed. Or what were the tickets. There were four pieces on the bed. I picked them up, but I already knew what it said.

“What’s that?” Tyler came out from the bathroom to find me holding up the pieces of their tickets. I pieced them together, and it was just like I thought.

“A traffic ticket.”

“What did you do?”

I looked at him. Was I surrounded by idiots? “It’s yours. It was on your bed. You each got one.” I handed the pieces over to him. And Jake’s. I looked at it as I handed it to him. $100 for aiding in the commission of a crime. Jake’s address was on the ticket.

“Oh, is that what that was?” Jake seemed uninterested. “I thought it was some gag novelty menu from a local restaurant.” He looked at it. “I just tore them up. Why? Should I not have done that?”

It took a second but Tyler got it. At least I think he did.

“What the fuck is this? Are you pulling some kind of joke?”

I frowned. “Where would I get a stack of State of Kansas Moving Violation tickets? And why would I give myself one?” I held mine up.

He examined it again. Eyes wide. He was getting it.

“Come on.” I walked out the door with Tyler, and Jake following as we headed for Kevin’s room. Liv let us in, as Danny was standing talking to Kevin. Both of them were holding tickets.

“- ain’t no way I’m going back there anyways,” Danny was saying. I drew in my breath in a sharp hiss. Fuck. Danny was holding pieces of a ticket.

“Hey, cool, we all got them,” Kevin said. “Awesome.”

I wasn’t feeling awesome, unless today was the day where awesome had become a synonym for ‘terrified’.