Chapter Eight

That afternoon, Anne and I are walking down the outdoor Memphis venue that sits on the Mississippi River, and Ford catches sight of us. “Girls!” He waves us over to the soundboard where he opens a large crate full of used cables. “Your job for the day.”

He picks up a cable and shows us where the wiring inside is exposed, before tearing a piece of electrical tape and wrapping it. “Think you can do that?”

“Uh, yeah,” Anne deadpans.

Ford walks off and she turns to me. “Does he think we’re idiots?”

“I don’t mind.” I settle on the concrete slab and start in. She puts her earbuds in and does the same.

So the next few hours go. Ford doing his stuff at the soundboard and me and Anne wrapping wires. I like the monotonous work. It keeps my brain focused and off of everything else.

“Guys are here,” Ford informs us, but Anne is rocking to her music and doesn’t hear.

I glance up to see West and Simon laughing as they walk on stage and take their spots.

Ford picks up a microphone. “All right boys, let’s get started. Check on mike one,” his voice echoes through the amphitheater.

West steps up to mike one. “Check.”

Stretching his fingers across the board, Ford positions them on the sliding knobs, makes a few adjustments, and continues, “Check on mike two.”

The keyboard player pulls his mike down. “Check.”

Ford continues through the rest of the checks and then begins on the instruments, asking them to play specific chords and give feedback on the volume of the onstage monitors.

“This is the EQ rack,” he tells me, probably because he sees me watching him. “I’m boosting the bass,” he turns a knob, “and here I’m lowering the high end. Hear that reverb from the right side of the house?”

I listen to the echo and nod.

He makes adjustments. “Now it’s gone.”

“That’s really cool.”

“It is.” Ford slides a bar down. “Even more exhilarating during a live show.”

I go back to wrapping wires, and my heart nervously picks up pace as I remember West’s encouraging words and I try to think of a way to ask Ford if I can maybe be his what, assistant? Apprentice? Gopher?

But before I have a chance to ask, he opens the gate that leads from the tech box. “Be back in a sec,” he tells me.

I finish the cable I’m working on and start the next one, still eyeing the soundboard. I think again of the smaller one I tinkered with at church and almost laugh at the size comparison.

Anne takes her earbuds out and glances toward the stage, before turning back to me with a waggle of the brows. “Did you see West is here?” she teases, and I make a face at her.

“Eve!” Ford yells. “Bring me that silver hard case under the board.”

Grabbing the case, I carry it down the aisle and up onto the stage. Ford takes it from me and opens it up. “This is Eve everybody. She’s new crew.”

I spare the guys a quick glance. West, Simon, Toby, the drummer, and Levi, keyboards. West steps forward to shake my hand as if we haven’t already met. He gives my curious look an amused one, and from underneath his fedora his dark eyes crinkle a little as one corner of his mouth twitches. Though no one else probably recognizes it, he holds my hand just a second too long until I finally slip my fingers from his grasp.

“It’s roast beef girl!” Simon jokingly recognizes me.

Ford glances over. “Roast beef girl?”

“I served them sandwiches,” I tell him, fidgeting a little. “At that VIP thing?”

“Also, Green Eyes and I went for a run this morning,” West helpfully puts in.

Ford lifts his brows as if to say Green Eyes?

“Will there be anything else?” I ask, trying to get the focus off of me.

“Don’t be so serious.” West gives me a playful punch in the shoulder, and I catch myself in a flinch. “Sorry,” he mutters, taking a quick step back.

I shrug it off, “That’s okay,” and make a beeline off the stage. I’m sure no girl has ever actually flinched from his touch.

Back at the soundboard I resume my work, and though I don’t want them to, my thoughts drift. Bluma’s email curls through my brain again, and I automatically lift my head and glance around the venue, but again there’s nothing unusual. There’s just the other roadies, the venue workers, and the band.

Sound check continues, and I purposefully focus back in on Ford’s area to get my mind in the here and now. I focus on the flashing lights, the knobs, the buttons, and the wires. I watch his fingers as he slides channel bars and adjusts controls.

Bus Stop transitions into Depth Fellow, one of my favorite songs that they perform, and automatically I start mouthing the lyrics. They’ve got this pop rock/country rock/alternative sound that is so unique to all of their songs.

“Great ting on that one,” Ford says. “Little lower on the bass…left side’s off…now that’s some great range.” A few minutes more, and Ford slides all the channels down before turning to look at me. “Do you realize you stared at me the entire time they were practicing?”

I cringe. “Sorry. It’s just…”

“Just?”

“Everything you’re doing. It’s fascinating. I’ve messed around with mixing a little here and there. Nothing, of course, like you.”

Ford smiles. “Online stuff?”

“Yeah, I’ve played around with a few sites.”

“Anything hands on?”

“Not really. Just a small one at church.”

Ford scrubs his fingers over his goatee. “Tell me what appeals to you about the whole thing.”

I think about that a second, really wanting to answer this right. “Well, first it’s the music. Nothing can help me disappear like music. But then it’s also taking all this raw material and creating something new with it that I love and hope others will, too.” I scrunch up my nose, hoping he doesn’t think the disappearing comment is odd, but also thinking he might get what I’m saying. “Does any of that make sense?”

Ford nods. “Yes, Eve. It all makes perfect sense.”

I smile, suddenly feeling a connection I never have before.

“How about college?” he asks. “Any plans on officially studying it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sound Engineering. There’s a lot of great programs I can recommend.”

College? I’ve never even thought about college. Heck, I haven’t even graduated high school. “I don’t think so. But I’d love to learn from you,” I boldly say. “That is…that is if that’s okay,” I quickly amend, not wanting to push my luck.

Ford chuckles. “Not making any promises here, but why don’t we just say, any time you’re done with your work, you can come and learn a few things. Sound good?”

A burst of excitement dances through me. “Really?”

“Now don’t get too excited. Just how to open a mike, balance the bass, EQ a song.”

I nod. I can’t think of anything better.

The sound of a giggle has me looking back toward the stage to see a gorgeous, glamorous girl standing like an inch from West. He’s laughing and flirting right back, having no problems with her nearness. I recognize her. She was at the club that first night I met West. She’s the Lucy Liu look-alike.

“Okay, guys,” Ford comes on the house mike. “Last set, and then we’re done.”

The girl slowly steps away, shooting West a little fingery wave. He waves right back before slipping his guitar strap on and turning toward me and Ford. Quickly, I pick up a cable and overly concentrate on it as I wrap it with tape, and the more I concentrate the more I relax with relief. This is good actually. What I just saw. There’s nothing special about the flirting he does with me. He’s just doing what he does to every girl.

Yes, there’s nothing special about me.

Friends. That’s what I’ll insist on with West. He probably doesn’t know how to be friends with a girl. For that matter, I don’t know how to be friends with a boy. This will be new for both of us. Plus, other than Anne and Bluma, I don’t have any friends. I could use another.

With the new resolve, though, I can’t help but wonder what it will be like to finally have a guy interested in me. A guy that will look at only me and make me light-headed and happy.

The thought has me smiling. Despite my crap of a life, I never thought I’d actually be thinking in such a normal way.