CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
I was on the verge of one of those smeared mascara, bloodshot eyes, and puffy-faced jags. So I fanned my face and prayed desperately to pull it together.
I collapsed onto a concrete step, gulping in breaths that didn’t reach my lungs.
The metal door pushed open.
“Esther?”
Wally. Oh God. Not now. But there was no hiding as he stuck his head around the stairwell.
“You okay, kid?”
My face contorted. No sympathy. That’ll pull the plug.
“I told Sky to back off awhile. Does that help?”
I shrugged.
“You need to talk?”
I shook my head.
“You sure?” Wally came to sit beside me.
Please go away. I nodded again. He was saying something comforting—I guess—but I couldn’t hear him. Breakdown was imminent.
“You know you’re not breathing, right?”
I hopped up, smoothing my skirt. “I’m fine and you have work to do.” I gave him a phoney smile. “Go.”
Wally’s face said “You-really-expect-me-to-buy-that?” but he shrugged and said, “Okay, for now.” He paused then put a hand on my shoulder. “Watch it, Sweetie. Lies are habit-forming.”
When the metal door clicked into place behind him, the shaking started. I folded under a wave of pain. There were no tears, just dry heaves of grief, an icy wind across scorched sand. My heavy head was an anvil. Darkness. Sadness.
There was a roar from the crowd somewhere over my head.
As if that wasn’t enough, bits of Sky’s hits began to roll, a cheer for each familiar melody from the enthusiastic crowd—each a vivid memory, each cutting deeper. Cringe. Cheer! Spasm. Cheer!
I stumbled to my feet, making a beeline toward an exit, any exit. The corridor stretched ahead, grey, cold and empty. The glowing, “Exit” beckoned. I started running. If that metal door was locked… I pushed against it with my hip, and… not locked!
“Oof!”
The door banged into the broad back of the security guard from earlier.
“Sorry!” I gasped.
“Esther!” Marti’s voice turned every head in the near-deserted lobby. She rushed forward, “Where have you been? I thought you were gonna miss it!”
She linked an arm through mine and kept chatting as we walked toward one of the darkened entrances. We passed through and my feet refused to take another step. “I can’t do this.”
“What?” she yelled over the noise.
I repeated myself in her ear.
“But what are you gonna do?”
“Um, stay back here—not so loud, or so close.”
“You need to talk?” She asked, but her eyes glanced with longing toward our seats.
I assured her I was fine and we’d meet up afterwards. It’s not easy to convince your best friend of a lie… or two. After practically shoving her down the aisle, I waited a moment before stepping back through the opening, heart bent on my car and a quiet drive where I could have the breakdown I so richly deserved.
“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink.” The child’s voice surprised me. And scripture? I peeked back into the arena.
On a huge white screen filling the entire back of the stage, images flashed of children with dazzling smiles. There were dirt streets and hovels and abject poverty and… joy… and glimpses of Sky, Adam, and the rest of the band playing and singing with them, all set to an instrumental soundtrack of “Soulfull” and interspersed with a couple short interviews explaining their involvement in that country and the organization they represented. Sky’s comments were reserved for last. As a shy toddler with the most beautiful brown eyes I’d ever seen sat on his knee, he gave a few words about the need for basic necessities and the way to contribute.
I stared at his eyes—happy, peaceful, and content.
Live music had been building until it overtook seamlessly when the screen froze on the captivating smile of a little girl no more than five years old.
There was a split-second’s break in the music, the lights went completely black then flashed on like lightning to reveal Sky at the edge of the stage. The crowd erupted as he sang.
Celebracione! Celebracione!
La Vida!
He repeated those words over and over. Each time he came to “La Vida!” the ocean of swirling humanity roared the words with him.
Adam’s familiar dreadlocks swung above the keyboard while Jake’s hands blurred at the drums. A percussionist surrounded by colorful steel drums pushed the party a notch higher while Jake added the boom of floor toms. Sky had slung on his guitar and the next solo was his, a racing Spanish plucking pattern. Adam whooped and started a syncopated clapping.
People danced in the aisles and pressed toward the stage. If there was a pulse, this music would make it race.
For me, it poured acid on an open wound.
“Howdy Ya’ll!” Sky greeted the crowd as he slipped a large black cowboy hat onto his head. The audience roared as he did a John Wayne-esque swagger and bee-bopped into a countrified version of “That’s it Baby.” When Adam and Jake moseyed from behind to join him in a line dance, the whistles and cheers were deafening. Adam’s final James Brown half split brought down the house as Sky launched the hat, Frisbee-style, into the crowd.
As the cheering continued, Sky shaded his eyes with a hand and peered into the light—down to where I would have been sitting. I breathed a prayer of thanks I wasn’t sitting there like a gullible sap. From a distance, with an exit in sight, where he couldn’t see me, I could cope—just barely.
I remained there as he swung through all the favorites—my anthems of teenage pain, odes to loneliness, beauty, love, loss… and after every one I almost left. Every note and word was excruciating, but it was far better than the pain of feeling nothing.
Suddenly the lights grew dim and the sound of rain with the sighs and moans of a strong wind joined strobes that flashed with rumbling thunder as the screen came to life with a sepia-toned, grainy film. Images of children playing, the sound of voices—some happy, some passing through raised in anger—morphed into screams of crowds, music clips, and revolving, dreamy sequences. Slowly, the images faded and the sounds of thunder and rain grew.
I relaxed against the wall and closed my eyes, escaping to my barn with a soft spring shower pattering on the tin roof.
Mistake.
To relax was to loosen my grip. A sharp pain stabbed my heart as I saw Sky’s face, so close after our hay fight, mussed and irresistible. My head dropped in defeat. Time to leave.
But when I opened my eyes, there was Sky. Not on the screen. Not on the stage. Right in front of me.
There was no chance to draw the shutters. He was already in my soul and I couldn’t look away as he brushed my face with the tips of his fingers. Everything—the crowd, the music, the flashing lights—didn’t exist as Sky leaned in and whispered in my ear, his breath warm on my neck, “I’m so sorry.” He lingered there a moment, then kissed my cheek. He placed something into my shaking hands and moved away where a blinding spotlight found him.
Most of the crowd still watched the screen where a white horse raced into view, mane flying, powerful muscles rippling through golden grass. Those images blurred into an ocean view, waves washing a long-necked bottle onto the sand as Sky sang:
“I’ve cherished every moment.”
His eyes were still fixed on the spot where I stood.
“Over and over and over again.”
The crowd discovered Sky behind them. He walked toward the stage, leaving me gaping and stunned as he shifted into the familiar waltz-tempoed tune.
Time return
And bring you back to me
Sweetest breath of spring
You stole my heart
Just one fleeting moment
One mystery
Hope like
healing waters
The magic of your touch
Haunts day and night
I am not the man
That I used to be
Enemy time
Standing between you and me
Shrouding all that I see
Taunting every memory
Enemy time
A million stars in the sky
A million dreams in your eyes
Until the moment when you’re with me
Swirls of white light came down like snowflakes and floated across the stage. Sky’s voice, rising with the melody, sent chills down my spine.
And when we danced!
Time stood still
And when we danced!
Time stood still
The lights stopped. They moved to the end of the stage toward the audience, bright rays illuminating the first few rows like sunbeams through forest leaves.
As if waking from a dream, I glanced down at what I held in my hand—a small bottle.
When the lights came up—the signal to beg for an encore—I slipped out the door and found a quiet spot at the window where I’d watched the sunset. In the neck of the bottle was a rolled slip of paper. I pulled it out, dreading and anticipating.
Dear Esther,
I humbly ask that you allow me to spend time with you this evening.
Please give me a chance.
Love,
Sky
How could I say no to that?
“Whatcha got there?”
I jumped at the voice, so close, so loud, pushy, and familiar. Right beside me, close enough to read over my shoulder, stood the spiky-haired reporter who had made life hellish after Sky’s concert two years before. The hair was white-blond now, but the face and voice were unmistakable.
“Excuse me.” I brushed past him, intending to return to my spot at the back of the arena, but spiky-guy followed, staying close. Too close. When I thought of the ridicule and rumors I’d endured due to his stories, my hands clenched into fists, eager to punch that toothy grin. As the lights went down and the band came back onstage with a surge of cheers, he spoke again.
“That’s from Sky, right?”
I turned toward him, “Look… ” I had a beauty of a telling-off planned, but a large shadow came closer with a set of shoulders so wide, they eclipsed the light from the exit.
“It’s sweet, really, sorta loyal that he would call you again when he’s in town. Is there a central number, like an agency?” Sly grin. Insinuating wink.
A large hand clamped on his head and spiky guy’s face went pale. Above him, the shadow’s head moved into the light. Lex!
But the bodyguard whose friendly smile had put me at ease two years before was the picture of intimidation as he twisted the spiky head to face him. “Beat it, Hempton,” he growled.
The one called Hempton scuttled away, spiky hair smushed flat where Lex’s grip left its mark.
Lex gave me a slight nod and stepped back into the shadows a couple steps away. It felt good to have Hercules on my side.
This time, the encore was another song from the new album I had refused to listen to. Once again Sky wove a mysterious atmosphere before he ever sang a word. There was a subtle beat with a hypnotic guitar pattern. The entire arena hushed as Sky began…
When you went to so much trouble to reach me
When your passion made you live and die
When you reached down through all creation
Leaving fingerprints on everything I see
When every fiber of me yearns for you
When every longing is a cry for you…
A stringed quartet appeared bathed in misty light on a small platform. The violins took up the melody as images appeared on the screen—war, famine, poverty, destruction.
Why
is it so hard to find you?
Why
is it so hard to understand?
Why
are you wrapped in shadow?
Why
is the gate so narrow?
It seemed Sky had lifted these questions directly from my soul.
The mountains point to you
The wind whispers your name
The sky spells out your story
And even my heart
Points to you, my compass star
Light percussion, a breathless pause then band and strings joined in.
What else can I do?
I must believe in you
You are what I cannot live without
Though I can’t prove you without a doubt
This hunger is a fact no man can dispute
When planets move, what’s unseen is proved
Everything faded until only Jake’s percussion remained. A quiet interlude, then the band swelled.
You I can’t reach
Wrap yourself around me
You I can’t see
Open my eyes
I give up doubt
Push away fear
Let me know
You are here…
I held my breath as he sang in a near whisper…
I take this step into empty space
And hope there’s such a thing as grace