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1
A few days after the gathering at the Coach House, Amberlin had a message from Archer to give him a call. Had he had a change of heart, Amberlin wondered? The thought stirred her heart which only served to confuse her more about how she felt about her real father. As she walked to the pay phone a couple blocks from the basement room where they were staying, she pondered the recent meeting. Archer might be my biological father, she thought, but her real father had been Papa Herb. He and Rose had been who had raised her, provided for her, loved her. While she could be thankful to Archer for giving her life, she really had no reason to expect anything else from him, and she certainly didn't want to disrupt his life any more than she had already done. He'd also made that perfectly clear as well. So, what could he want now?
“I’ve been in touch with Grossman as I said I would, and he’d like to meet you and hear you sing,” Archer said after they exchanged awkward salutations.
“Really?” Amberlin asked, excited by the news, despite herself. “When, where?”
“Well, that’s the thing,” Archer replied. “He’s up in Massachusetts right now checking out some groups. He said if you can make it up there, he’ll arrange to have you play a set at Club 47. If he likes what he hears, he’ll arrange to meet with you afterward.”
“Okay, I guess that’ll work,” Amberlin replied, though something didn’t feel quite right about it. “When?”
“He said there's no hurry. He'll be up there at least a couple weeks, maybe longer, but I'd suggest you get up there as soon as possible. Strike while the iron is hot, you know."
Or at least while the iron is lukewarm, Amberlin thought. “Okay, I’ll let everyone know...and thanks. I appreciate this.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Archer replied then after an uncomfortable pause. “You take care of yourself, you hear?”
“Sure thing and you do the same."
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“CLUB 47! WE HAVE A gig waiting for us at Club 47? That is a big deal. I’ve heard good things about that place,” Ben shouted as he did his happy dance around the room. “And we get to meet with Al Grossman? This is great news!”
“Well, we get a set, probably two or three songs, and maybe we’ll get to talk with him,” Amberlin corrected him. “Seems a long way to go just for an audition.”
“Are you kidding?” Ben replied. “I’d go to California for such an opportunity. This could be a big break. Grossman represents some of the up and coming names in folk music.”
“Okay, if you say so. What do the rest of you think?”
“Sounds good to me,” Hannah replied, “though I’m pretty much just along for the ride. I know my vote doesn’t really count.”
“Sure it does,” Ben spoke up before Amberlin could. “You’re our percussion section.”
Hannah giggled, but there was a sultry sound to it that caught Amberlin off guard. What was going on with those two?
“How about you?” Amberlin asked turning to her mom.
“Doesn’t much matter to me,” Spooks replied. “My vote probably means less than Hannah’s.”
“Why do you say that? You’re still our manager.”
“Yeah, for now,” Spooks replied, then smiled. “Sure, let’s do it. I told Archer to arrange the meeting, and he did. Wouldn’t be right for us not to follow through.”
“Okay! We’re off to Harvard Square!” Ben exclaimed in an imitation Boston accent.
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2
FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL weeks, the standing room only crowds continued even with an additional wing being added to the tent. The stack of bills disappeared and was replaced with a stack of newspaper clippings and letters inviting Rev. Stover to various events. Suddenly, the reverend was in high demand for speaking events and other social occasions, most of which Missy had to decline, but there was one she knew better than to refuse. It came in a plain white envelope with no return address postmarked from Los Angeles. At first, Missy almost ignored it, but then something prompted her to open it. Inside she found a handwritten letter. Her eyes fell to the signature at the bottom of the note: Randolph Hearst.
Holding her breath, Missy struggled to read the scrawling handwriting. The gist of the letter was direct and straightforward. Hearst was inviting them to a small soriée at the end of the month at his luxurious castle on his 168,000-acre estate in San Simeon, California. The invitation both excited her and mystified her. Why extend such an invitation in such a manner? Didn't most such social events come in the form of an engraved message, especially from one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the world?
And most curious of all was the P.S. Destroy this letter upon receipt.
Before doing so, Missy showed the letter to Rev. Stover.
“Don’t you find it strange?” she asked as she watched him read the letter.
“Strange?" Rev. Stover replied, and he flipped the letter over. "Well, yes, perhaps, but Hearst is known for his strange ways. Perhaps this is just one more example. That date is on a Monday, I believe. Seems odd he'd schedule such an event on a Monday as well. What do you think? Should we try to go?"
“Are you kidding?” Missy answered, taking the letter and folding it back up. “Of course we’re going. This is the man who, with one short telegram, turned our crusade from a bankrupting failure to a huge success. You don’t refuse invitations from such powerful and influential men. Besides, it’ll be an opportunity for us to get away for a day or two. We could both use a little downtime."
Rev. Stover nodded. “Fine by me. You’ll make all the arrangements?”
“Of course,” Missy replied. “That will include a shopping trip for some appropriate attire as well...for both of us.”
Rev. Stover groaned. “Really? Do we have...” then noticing his wife’s facial expression, nodded. “...Whatever you say, dear.”
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3
IT TOOK THEM A LITTLE over a week to tie up matters in New York. With Hannah’s help, Spooks was able to negotiate Mary and her trio to take over Amberstovers’ gigs. In the process, Mary told Hannah to be sure to introduce herself to Paula Kelly. “She started Club 47 with Joyce. I forget Joyce’s last name, but Paula is much nicer anyway. Tell Paula how much I miss her. She’s a sweetheart and will treat you right.” Mary turned to leave then stopped. “And keep an eye out for another singer, Joan. Last I heard she was thinking of dropping out of Boston College so she could devote more time to her singing. She’s often around Club 47, and she’s another Mensch.”
“Pardon?” Hannah asked, confused by the term.
Mary chuckled. “It means she’s really nice too. I’m sure you’ll get along well with her. Good luck up there with your audition, and thanks for the gigs here.”
Ben called ahead to make sure someone at Club 47 knew that they’d soon be arriving, and they were off once more in the van arriving at dusk.
“I booked us a room at a local motel,” Spooks told them as they neared Boston, “but we’ll need to find somewhere cheaper as soon as possible.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Hannah replied. “Mary gave me a few names of people in this area. Besides, Ben has a knack for making friends, most of the female persuasion, so we shouldn't have any trouble finding other accommodations."
“What’s that? Did I hear my name being used in vain,” Ben said from the front of the van. He looked at Hannah in the rearview mirror. “You know you have my heart and allegiance.”
“Yeah, right,” Hannah replied with a snort of laughter. “Until the next pretty face shows up,” but it was obvious from the smile on her face and the twinkle in her eyes that Ben’s comment had hit home.
Once again, Amberlin wondered what was going on with her two friends. Were they becoming an item, and if they did, how would that affect the dynamics of the group? Already she’d seen plenty of other singing groups break-up when members became involved with each other and jealousy set in. It was understandable. Most of the groups were made up of young men and women, many still in their teens and a few more in their mid to late twenties, who spent much of their time singing about love.
What could you expect? If she was honest with herself, she'd even considered what it would be like to move her friendship with Ben to some next level, especially now that she knew for sure that they weren't half-siblings. But life was already complicated enough, so she'd resisted the urge. But could she really expect Ben and Hannah to do the same? Probably not, especially when you consider how closely packed their lives were right now. Finances required that they all room together which usually meant rotating two women sleeping in one bed while the other got the luxury of sleeping alone. That left Ben to sleep on the couch or a cot if one could be found.
Life on the road was far from glamorous, but everyone had seemed to adjust pretty well so far. Would that continue to be the case if Ben and Hannah became more than just friends? I might just have to speak to Mom about this, Amberlin thought. In the meantime, she’d just keep an eye on them and try to do her part to keep anything from escalating further, at least until she was sure what was going on.
When Spooks called to speak to someone at Club 47 the next day, she was informed that Amberstovers were slated to sing two songs the day after tomorrow. “Really?” Spooks said. “What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”
“I don’t know and don’t really care,” came back the reply. “Tour historical Boston for all I care.”
“That was probably Joyce, one of the owners," Hannah replied when Spooks told the rest of them the news. "I've heard that the farther north you go, the more abrupt people are."
“Well, let’s stay the hell out of Canada then,” Spooks replied.
“At the same time," Amberlin interjected. "Why not do what she said. I don't think any of us have ever spent any time in Boston. I, for one, would enjoy playing tourist for a day or two. Who's game?"
“Sure,” Ben and Hannah replied.
“Yeah, I guess,” Spooks answered far less enthusiastically.
“Great! Ben, how about going to the lobby? I think I saw some free information about the area. Everyone else, get your most comfortable shoes on. We’re going walking.”
“Yeah, like I have more than one pair of shoes,” Spooks replied, but with less of an edge.
For the next two days, the four of them explored both Harvard Square and the many other sections of Boston proper. In the process, they also discovered the MTA.
“Oh, oh, we’ve got to go on that!” Ben said pointing to one of the signs.
“What is it?” Amberlin asked.
“It’s the M.T.A.,” Ben replied, then added when the perplexed look remained on Amberlin’s face. “It’s the Metro Transit Authority—a subway. It can take us all over this city for next to nothing.”
“Really? Cool,” Amberlin replied.
“How come you know about it?” Hannah asked.
“From one of my favorite songs by the Kingston Trio,” Ben replied. “It tells the fanciful story of a man named Charlie who takes a ride on the M.T.A. only to never be heard from again. He sang the first verse.
“It goes on, but you get the idea,” Ben finished.
“That's a really fun song," Amberlin said, and both Spooks and Hannah nodded. "Maybe we could learn it in time to sing it as part of our spot in a couple days. It'll give us something to do as we walk around Boston and take rides on the M.T.A.."
“Sure, why not?” Ben said. “I already know the words and chords. Shouldn’t be hard at all.”
“Isn’t it a little too light-hearted for such an important audition?” Spooks asked.
“Maybe,” Amberlin replied, “but if Mr. Grossman can’t enjoy a light-hearted, fun song along with our more serious ones, I don’t want to work with him.”
The other three nodded agreement.