I looked around in confusion. The audience began to shout and hoot. I hoped it was meant as encouragement.
The lead singer hollered into the microphone. “Yeah, you! Come on. Make way, let the little dude on stage.”
The crowd parted, creating a path for me. I didn’t have a choice. Somehow I had volunteered to go up onstage, in front of all these people. I swallowed my nervousness and walked toward the stage.
The guy handed me his guitar. “Rock on, little dude,” he said. I gulped. I touched the strings gently. The guitar seemed to vibrate with an energy I couldn’t control. The pick gleamed in my hand. Taking a deep breath, I hit the first note. The blast of noise was a shock. I played a medley of notes. As the sounds carried over the crowd, I got the feel of it.
The vocalist signaled to the band, and they joined in with a riff I could barely follow. As I picked out bits of the song, I began to enjoy myself. I bent my knees, closed my eyes and played a stream of screeching electric noise. I experimented with the pick and the whammy bar, thrilled with the sound. It seemed no time at all before the vocalist tapped me on the shoulder.
“Thanks, man,” he said into the microphone. “That was truly…unbelievable.” He examined the guitar as if looking for signs of damage. “You’re awesome, little dude.”
I gave him a wide grin and made my way off the stage, where Nick and Robyn were waiting.
“That was the best!” I said blissfully as I reached them. I was totally pumped.
“The best might be an overstatement,” Robyn said. “Fun, sure. Earsplitting, definitely. But the best, no.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time, Robyn. You’re supposed to be supportive,” I said.
“I am,” she said. “I support your decision to take guitar lessons before someone sues you for hearing damage.”
I shot her a sour look, but before I could reply, a young woman approached.
“Hi, there,” she said. “We caught some of your…uh, performance on tape for the news. Would you be interested in giving us a short interview?”
“Sure!” I said. “Who wouldn’t? First I get to be a rock star, and then I get a TV interview. Hollywood, here I come!”
“We’ll need to get your parents’ consent, but let’s start with your names and ages.”
“I’m Trevor. This is Robyn and Nick.
We’re all thirteen,” I said.
“Okay, Trevor. That was a very…unusual piece you played. How long have you been studying the guitar?” The young woman sent a smile in the direction of the camera.
“Only a few weeks. Nick and I just bought our guitars.”
“I see. Have you taken any lessons yet?” she asked.
“Um, no,” I admitted.
“Well, you certainly stood up there like a pro,” she said.
“Yeah, well. We’ve played a lot of guitar video games. It kind of gives you the feel for it,” I said.
“Do you intend to make music a career?” The young woman smiled again.
“I think it’s a little too early to tell,” Robyn jumped in.
Another member of the news crew ran up. “Sidney, more bear carcasses were found in K-Country. There’s a press conference. We have to get moving.”
The young woman signaled to the cameraman to stop taping. “Okay, we’re on it.”
“But what about our interview?” I asked.
“Sorry, kids, but this is a breaking story. I’ve got to go. That’s the way it is in this business.” She fished in her purse and handed me a business card. “Give me a call around four o’clock. I should be back in the newsroom. I’ll need to talk to your parents, Trevor, about airing your performance. That still might make it into the segment on the festival.” She sped off in the direction of the news van. The cameraman followed her.
“Well, that’s just great,” I muttered. “I was about to become a star!”
Robyn grabbed my arm. “Would you get with reality for second, Trevor? Don’t you realize what this means?”
“No. What?” I said, still irritated.
“More bears have been killed.” Robyn’s eyes hardened.
“Yeah, I heard.” My mind was still on the loss of the TV interview.
“Trevor! Pay attention!” Robyn snapped. “The carcasses have been left behind. It’s the same poachers that removed the gall bladder from the first bear. I guarantee it!”