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1
It had been weeks since Canyon and Amberlin had made an appearance at Mountain Haven's Amateur Night, so when they strolled in on Thursday evening, it caused quite a stir. Canyon had the forethought to alert Angus ahead of time, who made it a point to have many of Canyon's most loyal friends in the house. Even so, as the two of them made their way to the stage, Amberlin heard several less than positive comments among the applause and cheers.
“Well if it ain’t the witch showing her face again,” one lady shouted from the bar. “Yeah, along with the cult leader himself,” a man standing next to her with a nearly empty beer mug added. But the comments seemed to only spur the rest of the crowd to cheer and applaud that much louder in an attempt to drown out the jeers.
They started with a rousing rendition of a Mountain Haven’s favorite, “Working Man’s Blues” with Canyon leading the way, then moved on to Amberlin singing “Everybody’s Somebody’s Fool.” Both songs were well received even by the few patrons that had started out as hecklers. Canyon then took the microphone from Amberlin, to introduce their last song.
“This past week our newly elected President announced the formation of the Peace Corp,' so, in honor of this bold step, we'd like to finish up our time with you tonight with a song we sang a few weeks ago. And with that, he strummed the opening chords of "Turn, Turn, Turn."
As the crowd applauded and the two of them returned to their seats, a young man with jet black hair and an outfit to match followed them to their table. "I heard there was a healer in these parts, so I had to check to see if it was you," he said directing this strange introduction to Amberlin. Fearing that the man was about to cause trouble, Canyon began to rise to put himself between the man and Amberlin, but something in the man's voice sounded familiar, so Amberlin put her hand on Canyon's arm. "It's okay," she said. He froze half out of his chair. Amberlin stared at the slender man. He appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties, though it was hard to tell because of his long hair and scruffy beard that hid much of his face. He held a half-empty mug of beer in one hand.
“Never thought I’d run into you here, though,” the man continued, flashing a quick smile that lit up his face.
“Ben? Ben Stover? Is that you under all that hair?”
The man laughed. “Yes, indeed it is. How ya been, Amberlin?
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2
“YOU KNOW THIS GUY?” Canyon asked, visibly relaxing as he sat back in his chair.
“Yeah,” Amberlin replied, then turning back to Ben said, “Sit down.” She pointed to one of the few empty chairs in the bar. As Ben sat down, she studied his face. She could now recognize through the mass of hair her old friend from Golden Acres. Well, she guessed Ben had been her friend. They’d sure hung out together enough.
“What are you doing in these parts?” Amberlin asked.
“Looking for you," Ben replied. "Like I said, I'd heard a rumor that someone around here was mysteriously healing people so I just had to check it out to see if by chance it could be you. I really didn't think it would be, but..." he paused and looked around... "but from what I heard I'm guessing it was you."
“But how did you find me here at Mountain Haven?”
“Well, I wasn’t really looking for you tonight. I just came here to check out the local talent.” He waved one hand in front of himself. “All this is the new me, you could say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Amberlin asked. “All what?”
“The hair, the beard, the clothes,” Ben said pointing to each part of him. “I’ve been traveling around the last year or two trying to make ends meet with my music. You know, waiting for that special break.”
“I had no idea,” Amberlin replied.
“Yeah, no one did.” Ben smiled. “After all, I was the preacher’s son, and you know my folks. They would have skinned me alive if they’d found out I was practicing the guitar and singing songs that weren’t about being saved and going to heaven.”
“So they don’t know?” Amberlin asked. She’d not thought about Reverend Stover or his wife, Missy, for over a year, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to start thinking about them now.
“I don’t know what they know,” Ben answered. “Nor do I care. I left Golden Acres over a year ago and don’t plan to return anytime soon...like never.”
The two sat looking at each other, suddenly uncomfortable as they thought about the past which included Ben’s father shooting and killing Amberlin’s grandfather, Papa Herb.
“So, how are you doing?” Amberlin finally asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.
Ben shrugged as he took a long draught of his beer, almost emptying the mug. "Doing okay, I guess. Still waiting for that call from Ed Sullivan, but working pretty steady. Sometimes music gigs, sometimes just odd jobs. Had a pretty good thing going with a country band...until they broke up. Hey, let me ask you. What was that last song you sang?"
“Oh, just one that a friend of Canyon’s wrote and sent to him,” Amberlin replied nodding to Canyon who was sitting quietly across from her still studying Ben as though studying a snake, trying to determine if it was a poisonous one or harmless.
“Yeah? Well, I liked it. It’s the kind of music I want to do more of. The band I was in did mostly country. You know, Johnny Cash, Earl Scruggs, a little Roger Miller, but I think folk music is what’s up and coming, at least for me.”
The next amateur group was tuning up in preparation to play.
“It’s about to get noisy in here again,” Amberlin said, leaning across the table and raising her voice to be heard. “Why don’t you come out to the homestead tomorrow night for dinner?” She turned to Canyon. “Will that be all right?”
Canyon shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. It’s Miriam’s and your turn to cook.”
“You cook?” Ben asked, a skeptical look on his face.
“Not as well as I sing,” Amberlin replied, “But Miriam will be doing most of it, and she’s a good cook.” She gave him directions. “We eat around six, but you can come earlier if you like and we’ll catch up.”