Chapter 20: Auditioners With Familiar Names

October 7, 1981

"I talked to Patti today," Evie said to Dave and me. The three of us had already gotten sick of dining hall chow, and were having a Wednesday night dinner at Margarita's. It was already the third time I'd eaten there with Evie. Now, Dave had joined us, and he would agree that the food and atmosphere were first-rate.

"Lucky you," Dave cracked, dipping a chip into some perfectly crafted salsa; thick, rich, and spicy. "Boo hoo. I'm hurt. She called you first."

I looked at Dave, shook my head, and pretended to pout. "I guess she doesn't love us anymore."

"You guys are being silly," Evie giggled. "She told me that she sends her love to both of you. The problem is, she just doesn't have any free time. Think we're swamped with schoolwork? She's carrying nineteen credits of science-heavy classes."

"Yeah ... plus, she has other things – non-academic ones – to deal with that we don't," I pointed out.

We reflected on that for a minute as the waitress brought us our food. There was a matter of great importance that I wanted to bring up, but Dave beat me to it.

"So," he began, "what about this band we're hoping to form? Shouldn't we start looking around for potential band-mates?"

"I'd like to get started soon," Evie replied. "But I have a bunch of midterms next week. What about the following week? Should we have auditions?"

"We all have midterms next week," I concurred. "so why don't we do it this way. Let's find a bassist first, and then a lead guitarist."

"Shouldn't we find the guitarist first?" Evie countered. "That's the more critical spot to fill."

"It is," I agreed, "and that's why I want four people instead of three to take part in the decision-making process for that spot."

Both Dave and Evie agreed with that line of reasoning, even though upon reflection, it really made no sense at all. I didn't want them to think I was forcing my will upon them. But both of them had come to accept my status as the band visionary, and tended not to question my intentions.

Of course, there was more to it; I definitely had an ulterior motive. I had a plan to carry out, and they couldn't know the details. This would require me to be devious, underhanded and sneaky. I didn't like doing that to my two closest friends in the entire universe. But I was privy to information that they weren't, and I had to use that information to ensure the best possible outcome for our band.

"Fridays are good for auditions," Dave suggested. "We can do them early in the evening, before party time." A typical Dave comment.

"I agree," I put in. "So why don't we plan to hold bassist auditions the Friday after midterms? I'll make up a bunch of notices, and stick them on bulletin boards around campus. If we find someone, we can hold guitarist auditions the next Friday, and go from there."

"Do you want us to help you with the notices?" Evie asked.

"I can do it," I offered in reply. "since I live over on the other campus, and I still spend a lot of time on the main campus."

Again, neither one of them saw fit to dispute this.

We stayed for a while in the restaurant even after we finished eating, talking excitedly about our proposed band, and imagining the possibilities. Eventually, Dave left by himself in his car, while I dropped Evie off at her residence hall.

I elected to park the car and accompany her to the dorm; the walk from the parking lot was fairly long. It was a cool evening. Almost without us realizing it, our hands came together as we walked, our fingers gently intertwining. Old habits die hard. And neither one of us made any move to separate them.

I, of course, had to comment on this.

"We broke up over a month ago, and here we are still holding hands," I grinned.

"Why not?" Evie smiled. "We're special friends, and there will always be a lot of affection between us. Why shouldn't we hold hands as we walk together? Is there anything wrong with two friends holding hands? Who cares what the rest of the world thinks?"

"Can't argue with that logic," I said in response, squeezing her hand tighter.

At the door to her dorm, I surprised Evie by leaning in and kissing her goodnight, softly on the lips. Her eyes flew open in surprise, but by the same token, it was plenty obvious that she didn't object.

"There's a lot of affection between us," I noted. "Why shouldn't we express it with a goodnight kiss?"

She laughed in agreement, pressed her lips against mine one more time, and then disappeared into the dorm, looking back and flashing a smile as she closed the door.

October 23, 1981

I somehow managed to squeeze my keyboard and my guitar into my Datsun. I was heading over to Evie's residence hall. It was time to find us a bassist. Of course, I'd already found one, in a sense; and if my plan worked, it would become official this evening.

I had told Dave and Evie that I would handle the notices. I did that. What I didn't tell them was that I only posted a single flyer. That's right, just one. A quick glance at the student directory informed me that Paul was living in the same dorm where he'd resided in the other life. He was actually on the same campus where I was. It was a simple matter to walk into the lobby of Paul's dorm, tape a flyer to the wall, and leave. And that was the only notice I posted, anywhere. It stated that auditions would be held from 7 to 9 in the evening, and gave the name and location of the residence hall.

In the residence hall where Evie lived, there was a large room in the basement that was sometimes used for parties. It was roughly square in shape, measuring about fifty feet on each side. Most of the time it was vacant. It was fairly isolated, sound-wise, from the rest of the building, which made it perfect for auditions. Evie had spoken with the residence counselor, and had secured the room for us for two consecutive Friday nights. Most dorm parties were held on Thursdays; we knew that there likely would be no conflicts on Friday. And we were correct.

For the bassist audition, all three of us brought our instruments, as we theoretically intended to observe how the potential band member interacted with us. Of course, if things went as I'd hoped, it wouldn't matter. Dave hauled his entire drum set over, and set it up. The room had two doors; one leading to an inside hallway close to the dorm elevator, and another leading directly outside.

I'd left the bait. I could only hope that Paul would bite. If he didn't, I'd have to come up with something else. What if he'd already gotten involved with a different band comprised of a different group of people?

But he hadn't.

At seven o'clock sharp, right on cue, we heard the elevator open outside the room. And here was Paul, coming into the room with his bass in tow. He introduced himself to each of us, and I pretended to be meeting him for the first time. Hot damn. My ploy had worked!

Once again, I was meeting someone important from the other life for the first time in this one. But it had been a while since the last occurrence, and I'd forgotten just how strange it was. It was bizarre seeing a younger version of Paul; he looked even more youthful than his actual age. But he still had the demeanor and fashion sense of an accountant.

We all made small talk at first. Then Evie asked the magic question: where are you from? Both Evie and Dave's jaws dropped as they realized that Paul had grown up just a few miles from where we all lived. Fully cognizant of that fact myself, I nonetheless pretended to act surprised as well.

At that point, the audition was pretty much a formality. It was apparent that both Evie and Dave had decided that unless Paul was completely incompetent, he was in. But we jammed together for a while, anyway, and my two clueless friends both discovered what I already knew: Paul was damn good, our equal in every way. After that, we all just chatted a little, and the personal connection in our little group began to develop once again. Was I ever stoked! Imagine, the four of us, back together again, in our old stomping grounds!

Eight o'clock passed; in the minds of my friends, there was still a chance that another bassist might show up to provide competition. It was Dave who first sought to squelch that possibility. He looked at Evie and I, then said what was on his mind.

"Look, you two. He's a hell of a talented musician. He's a hometown boy. And he's a nice guy, to boot. I say we bring him in. Let's not even bother considering anyone else. We couldn't possibly find anyone better."

"I agree," Evie said without hesitation. "You have my vote, Paul."

I held out my hand to Paul. "Welcome to our band," I told him, as he thanked us graciously.

The four of us split the scene and went to Margarita's.

"If we were of age," Dave told Paul as soon as we sat down at a table, "we'd bring you to a real bar. But this will have to do."

Evie and I looked at each other, and shook our heads in silence.

Paul, as I knew he would, had some suggestions to offer. I'd missed his level-headed perspective, mixed with occasional out-of-the-box thinking. I asked if he'd be free next Friday, to help us find a lead guitarist.

"Sure," he replied. "Mind if I offer some advice?"

"Not at all," I said. "You're one of us now, we're a democracy, and all opinions and suggestions are welcome."

"Besides evaluating musical talent, we also need to determine whether the person is a fit for us, personality-wise," Paul pointed out. "Let's come up with a list of questions to ask each one. Make it almost like a job interview."

That, in fact, was part of my plan for next week, and I assured him that I'd already thought of that.

"Here's another suggestion," Paul continued. "We definitely need a lead guitarist, that's critical. But shouldn't we consider adding two other members, not just one?"

I looked at Evie and Dave; none of us were sure how to respond. To be honest, we had really never discussed that matter.

Paul went on, "I don't think it's mandatory to have a six-person band. Five may well be enough, if we all learn to wear different hats. But wouldn't it be nice to have an extra guitarist, or an extra vocalist, or maybe someone who can do both?"

"Point taken," I nodded. "Evie and I will handle the vocals, although we're hoping this new guitarist might have vocal abilities too. I can play the guitar in a pinch, although that would take me away from the keyboard."

"You wouldn't want me to get involved with vocals, even backup," Paul laughed. "Trust me."

"Nor I," Dave added. That wasn't entirely true; Dave could sing backup if needed, although he didn't particularly relish it.

"So suppose we just concentrate on finding a guitarist next Friday," Evie suggested, "and see how things look at that point. If we feel it's necessary, we can bring someone else aboard later."

This made sense; we all nodded in agreement. But Paul had another issue to bring to the table.

"You guys have a name for this band yet?" he inquired.

I had a ready response in case this question came up. It was a variation on a remark that Paul himself had made in the other life.

"Not really," I said, grinning casually. "We haven't been able to muster up the activation energy to tackle that problem."