Chapter 11

Mick Johnson thought the World was a beautiful place. He sat in his chair on the deck, puffing peacefully on a cigarette and feeling the silky touch of the sea breeze on his chest. Michelle and Anna had taken Emily over to see the Dodger and the peace they left behind in their place was almost scary.

He heard a car come up the drive and sighed to himself. Putting out his cigarette, he wondered why they were back so early.

However the figure that rounded the corner of the house was way too vast to be Anna or Michelle. It was none other than his pal Freddie, and he came toting a six pack of brews.

"Here," he said, tossing Mick a beer, "thought you might be alone. Mind if I hide away for a while?"

"Be my guest," Mick smiled, "dare I ask how the wedding plans are going?"

"Nope," he shivered, "and how's domestic life here in the hills?"

"Funny how something so small can take over the house."

"Oh, yeah," he chuckled, "sleeping nights?"

"Some. Michelle spends a lot of time in with Anna. They kind of do the feeding gig together and the changing nappies and all that shit."

"Oh, good set up, Mick," Freddie laughed, "leaving you to peaceful slumber? It'd work for me."

"Sure, Freddie, but, ah..."

"Feel like a sperm donor?"

"Exactly!"

Freddie produced a couple of cigars from his pocket and handed one to Mick. Mick, himself, wasn't allowed to smoke anywhere near baby and preferably not at all. Michelle insisted the Emily's health might be at risk even if she got a whiff of smoke from his clothes.

"Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all, eh, Mick?" Freddie said, blowing out a huge cloud of smoke.

"Yeah, Freddie. Say?" Mick said, turning to his friend, "y'fancy playing the blues?"

"Hmm," he considered, "it's a beautiful day and we've nothing to do except sit out the back of your million dollar hillside villa. Before us is a stunning sea view with the Pacific as clear as you'll ever see it. We're smoking 50 buck Havanas that even the Yanks can't get because of their Cuban trade embargo. We've just released a CD internationally that looks like it'll start to chart soon in the US - the most challenging market in the World. I think it's an appropriate time for the blues, Mick," he grinned.

"Oh, yeah!" Mick laughed, before sprinting for his Ovation acoustic guitar.

Meanwhile, Karen and Junior were out and about. They decided to go for a morning hike around the coast with lunch packed into their napsacks. Around noon, they reached an area called the 'seven beaches, ' where six ancient beaches had risen up the cliff face as a result of seismic uplifting. They unpacked their lunch and settled down to watch the sea.

Karen noticed Junior had his head in his hands and looked miserable. "What's wrong, babe?" she asked.

"Shoulda just bolted down to the Registry Office," he said, "mum's driving me nuts."

"Well, likely you're the only son she's going to see get married."

"True."

"So she wants to make the best of the occasion. I sorta understand."

"You heard from your folks?"

"Hiking in the Klondike. Can you fucking believe it? At their age?"

"So they're not coming back for the wedding?"

"Uh, uh! We talked about it on the phone. It'll cost them a lot of money..."

"So?"

"No, Jun', that ain't all. They just don't feel right about it. It's not that you're a Gentile - they're not that Orthodox, y'know. This whole rock scene - it's a foreign culture. I know everyone would do their best to make them welcome, I know that. Jun', they're real conservative and I don't think they'll cope."

"Even for their only daughter?"

"Yeah! Mum said her and dad will pray for us. Y'know what I think?"

"Huh?"

"They want the full Jewish thing. I think we should give them that when they get back. What do you say, huh?"

"Oh, no! You saying we gotta change everything?"

"Hell, no! We could have another ceremony with a Rabbi and the glasses... all that shit. I'd like to do that for them, Jun', it'll be fun, you'll see."

"Y'reckon?"

"Yeah!"

"So we have to do it all over again? With mum..."

"Oh you haven't met my Mother, have you? Terry's an apprentice when it comes to her."

"Oh, shit, no!"

"Hey, we could get my birth mother to come, maybe? Y'think Mick'll cope?"

"Dunno, babe, dunno!" Junior replied, shaking his head.

The Curse was due to assemble the following week to go into rehearsal for a short tour of the country. Dates overseas were being finalised - Australia and Japan seemed likely - Europe was on the cards and perhaps, just perhaps, the glittering prize of the USA.

Anna was already busy selecting her wardrobe for the tour. Apart from The Curse's original crew, they were obliged to hire a couple more roadies. This show was to be bigger, with more equipment and, perhaps, more at stake. A stadium concert was planned for Auckland. The Curse had never played outdoors before so it was very much a step into the unknown. Most of the new album was to be showcased, of course, plus 'Darkside', revamped and rearranged.

Terry volunteered to care for Emily during the tour. Anna insisted on a personal assistant and her Rumanian gay friend Dimitru was put on the payroll. They acquired a full-time lighting team of two, a sound assistant for Junior, two stage hands for moving the gear, and a minder - a six foot ex gang member. The host could just squeeze comfortably into the tour bus - an ex Inter-City, 48 seat Denning with a massive Detroit Diesel at the back. Somewhere behind, the gear was being transported by a rented semi, towed by a Cummings-powered Peterbilt.

Mick mused their first tour was moved around in a couple of vans, with everyone finding places on top of the amps. They were now a travelling roadshow ensconced in something like luxury, with video games, TV, reclinable seats and a washroom.

After a week's winding up, they hit the road for the first of massive concerts in the major population centres. Bookings had been heavy, with a likely turn out of around 12,000 for their first gig. It was faintly reminiscent of Japan, but this country had a far smaller population and the band was near overwhelmed by the response.

Saturation radio airplay had kept the band in the news for a week. The second album was zooming up the charts - entering at 4 and heading skywards. Arriving at Auckland, they were whisked straight to the hotel and the grinding duty of the media.

Anna, Michelle and Mick worked the press in shifts. Karen was not comfortable in front of reporters and she and Junior tucked themselves away. In the main, the questions were softball, and Sony had their media guy on hand to ensure they stayed that way. No questions about Mal 'The Man' Mouton were permitted. The press interviews were managed and manipulated to ensure the maximum possible exposure sans scandals of any kind.

After dinner there was a rest period before sound check and the concert at eight. Anna did her voice exercises, Michelle played with and fed Emily, Mick fiddled with his guitars and Karen limbered up with her floor routine. Freddie was at the stadium bullying the crew and ensuring the stage rig was perfect for his band. Junior, his status enhanced now he had an assistant, fretted over the sound desk and mikes, swore loudly at last minute hiccups, and was thoroughly enjoying himself. The amps were his babies and he was fucked if any of them was going to step out of line.

A High School rockband warmed up the crowd. They'd won some local competition and this was the prize. To play in a stadium in front of 12,000 people as a first public gig was likely an experience they'd remember forever. The kids, average age 15, put on a stirling effort, ably assisted by Freddie, and the crowd appreciated it. The applause that accompanied them offstage was thunderous. This was all good for The Curse - the audience was in a receptive, generous and happy mood.

The Curse opened with a piece from Led Zep's 'Dazed and Confused' as a kind of an overture. It was slow, bluesy, and Karen could let loose with a 'Bonzo' Bonham style, heavy hitting thrash. Mick spied Michelle shaking to the beat, plucking the bass with her thumb pick, just grooving in some faraway place. For a moment, The Curse reminded him of the seventies' power bands and it felt good, real good!

From the sublime to the ridiculous, he thought. Their current single had to be played, though none of them liked it. Not that the crowd cared one whit, for they hooted, hollered, sang along and waved their arms. Anna did the big entry, with her high boots, clinging violet tights and black, lacey, halter top. She strode to the front of the stage, bent, and roared at the front row. Mick thought they all rocked back in their seats, but all of them wore the same, stupid, ecstatic grins on their faces.

They ran through the first 4 numbers in quick succession. They were all rapid, rocking, and very loud. The audience was blowing, panting like steam engines, and it was time to change the pace. The Curse would showcase, 'You Burn Me, ' the slow number they hoped to persuade Sony to release as their third single off the album.

Mick played the opening lick and, from the crowd's response, most had heard it from the CD. There were whistles and catcalls and some girl climbed on a guy's shoulders for a better look. Mick had moved to the front of the stage and an arm shot out, nearly propelling him into the audience. Experience gave him a sixth sense, however, and he hopped away smoothly. Rangi, their security guy, hovered just off stage ready to bounce offenders clear out the door.

Anna had a tough job with the first verse. The crowd was still buzzing from the opening numbers. She managed, and Michelle stepped forward for the chorus. That did it - Anna circled her friend and hugged her. With the height difference Michelle's head tucked under her arm. The crowd went wild with the display of affection and cries of 'we love you Anna' could clearly be heard. A single red rose hit the stage followed by a 'B' cup bra. Mick absently scanned the crowd for its owner, but it was an impossible mission.

At the finish, Anna bent and hit Michelle with a smacker to the lips. Again, the crowd screamed. Mick thought The Curse could do anything tonight. It was one of those occasions when the band was golden and they could've recited the telephone book and got an applause.

By the end of the set, several more items of underwear littered the stage, as well as notes, cards, flowers and a teddy bear. Why someone would take a teddy to a concert was anyone's guess.

The band clambered into a van at the back of the stage area and were driven back to the hotel. They had to enter by the hotel's back doors because of the fans who'd turned up at the front. A light supper had been laid on, but the band was exhausted and didn't stay long. They had another gig the next night and needed to pace themselves.