by Brian Cain
CHAPTER TWO
Jason came to a sharp stop in the car park outside the stage door of the venue which was to be the last gig for his present band. His clothes were damp from fiddling with the wiring of his car in the rain and he angrily fought with the door handle which eventually fell off. He slumped over the steering wheel with his eyes shut and had a terrible vision of the evening getting worse. “I’m cool, I’m cool,” he said softly to himself and moved across the seat to the passenger side door when he remembered the door handle had been missing from that side for some time. He wound down the window and calmly opened the door from the outside where he stepped into a large puddle that he had avoided with the driver’s side when he pulled up. “I’m finding it hard to stay cool,” he muttered. He jumped the puddle and walked alongside the stage crew’s truck and through the large double doors into the dimly lit backstage area without further incident, only to walk headlong into Tom, the band’s rather burly sound engineer.
“Woah!” Tom yelled as he stepped back and smiled when he saw who it was. “Jason it’s you, what the hell are you doing here this early? The support band hasn’t done a sound check yet.”
“Thought I’d come early to give you a hand, but I’m having a really bad afternoon. I may get run over by a truck in the venue here the way I’m going,” Jason depressingly explained. Tom laughed.
“You’d better go and sit behind the mixing desk out front and do some sound level checks for me, you can’t get into much trouble there.” Jason agreed and made his way across the stage down onto the dance floor. He stopped at the bar and acquired a glass of water from the bar staff who were preparing for their evening’s work, and arrived safely behind the mixing desk in the middle of the venue, making sure to put his water well clear of the desk. He sat down and waited for instructions from the stage, studying the set up of all the volume controls so he knew which to adjust when asked. It was eight in the evening; the room was beginning to fill with people as the support band set up their gear on stage. A few microphones and full drum kit check was all they could achieve as the venue filled fast with young punters eager to see the band’s last gig. By eight thirty the DJ had welcomed the swelling crowd and announced that the support act would be on stage at nine. Jason lay back in his chair behind the mixing desk and pushed his long fair hair to the back of his shoulders as he looked round at the now half-capacity crowd. He noticed a lot of regular fans had come to see the band’s last gig and he felt he was going to have a good time, regardless of the circumstances. The support band’s drummer noticed Jason behind the desk and walked straight over to him. He lent over close to Jason’s ear and raised his voice above all the noise.
“Thanks for the sound check, we’re really surprised you let us do one. I’m looking forward to seeing you guys play; shame it’s your last gig. I was at the band’s first one, would have been five years ago now when I was still at school. I’d better go to the dressing room because we’re on in ten minutes.” Jason turned to look at him as he went away, giving him a thumbs up sign as he hurried towards the stage.
He felt he was in sort of a no man’s land as he sat and watched the dance floor lights as they pierced the smoky atmosphere, turning round and round, occasionally catching the faces of the young girls dancing. He didn’t want to mix with the crowd and talk as he wanted to save his voice for the show. He certainly didn’t want to go back stage until the band was nearly due to play because of the bad vibes between himself and the rest of the band, as they blamed him for the band’s demise. He only felt sad about the fact that the band had split due to outside problems and nothing to do with the music. But in all, it just meant the next band and a lot of hard work to get it happening, so he just sat as still and out of sight as he could. Tom rushed to the desk and sat down beside Jason.
“The support band’s on in one more song from the DJ. I had trouble with the power to one of their amps, but it’s ok now!” he shouted. Jason looked up at the stage, as the band had just walked on and was plucking at their guitar strings to test their amps. The song the DJ was playing came to an abrupt end and he announced the support band to some enthusiastic applause. They started their first song; Tom went to work adjusting and balancing the controls on the desk. By about their fourth song, Tom’s efforts were beginning to bear fruit, as the obviously well rehearsed support band started to sound pretty good and the dance floor filled with punters. A sign of a good night.
The support act was well received and forty-five minutes saw them walk from the stage. Jason made his way across the dance floor, up the stairs to the dressing room, where one of the stage crew was holding back a handful of people who were trying to gain access to see the band. On passing, Jason heard some of the conversation.
“You can’t go in, the band’s too busy and there’s not enough room,” said the roadie.
“Look, the bass player is one of my best friends,” a voice replied.
“Yeah yeah, I’m really good friends with the guys in Led Zeppelin, but do you think they let me backstage with them? No way!” quipped the roadie.
As Jason walked through the door, he could hear voices; they stopped as soon as he entered. The stage guys had put his guitar in the corner against the wall, so he sat down next to it and in the morbid silence and began to tune up. Whatever was being said previously was obviously not for his ears, so he continued in complete silence. His guitar strings sounded a bit dead, just like the atmosphere in the room, so he changed them for a new set, tuned them in and began to gently wear them in with a few tunes. Satisfied with the results, he stood his well-worn Fender strat in his guitar stand and sat in silence. The rest of the band began talking amongst themselves again, making sure not to include Jason in the conversation. Tom entered the room, his shirt and face wet with sweat from changing the band’s equipment on stage.
“You’re on in two more songs from the DJ, get your act together and have a good one,” Tom shouted, then made his way towards the mixing desk, not wanting to hang around to suffer like the band was. Tom had done stage and sound for the band since their first gig and deep down was upset by the break up. Jason picked up his guitar and began to make his way to the stage to set up his amplifier for the impending performance. As he was going out the door he turned to the band. “Just the usual set guys,” he said softly then continued on to the stage before any conversation could erupt into unnecessary conflict.
The rest of the band followed. The DJ announced the band in a voice that you’d swear that all DJ’s had recorded in their head, “Please welcome on stage for the last time, Australian tourers, but Adelaide patrons, ‘Asteroid’.” The now capacity crowd responded with a raucous yell. A crowd of five hundred plus was rare in 1995 and Jason found it easy work as the show progressed. He communicated with the crowd and avoided including the rest of the band.
The band was playing very well and rising to the occasion with Jason’s voice and guitar work wooing the crowd. The show pounded on, sweat soaked Jason’s hair and constantly ran down his face, stinging his eyes and dripping from his nose. The lights burnt into his skin, the hot air on stage rose upwards bringing cooler air from the dance floor in its place. He stopped momentarily, a familiar perfume stirred his senses, he shook his head, the memory was there but could it be? He announced the last song, leaving out his usual band introduction and drum solo. They finished and the band left the stage. Jason waited to one side as the crowd screamed for more. The rest of the band stormed away to the dressing room, with the drummer throwing his sticks at Jason as he went past, striking him on the shoulder and bouncing onto the stage knocking a microphone out of its stand. Jason stood waiting by himself for a couple of minutes, then Tom appeared from the dressing room. “They won’t do an encore with you Jason. Two of them have already left,” said Tom.
Jason thought for a few seconds, pushed his hair behind his shoulders, wiped the sweat from his face with his hands and rubbed them on his faded jeans. He thought he must give as he receives. He said to Tom with a grin,
“You and I will do an encore Tom, fix the mic stand and go back to the desk.”
“You going to play by yourself or with yourself or something?” asked Tom with a wide grin.
“Yes. I’ll play by myself, can’t play with myself, haven’t got enough time and some of the prude members of the audience may be a little bit upset.”
“What you gonna play?” Tom asked in fits of laughter.
“If you don’t get going you, won’t find out, I have no idea.” Jason pushed Tom onto the stage and as soon as the crowd saw movement they responded with a louder scream for more. Jason didn’t know what he was doing, it was as if something was guiding him as he went, he was filled with confidence. Jason walked on to the stage, put on his guitar and reached into his black waist coat pocket, retrieving a brass tube which he slid on his left hand’s middle finger. He turned up his amplifier before he turned and faced the crowd.
“Thank you very much indeed for your appreciation. I would like to do this just for you lot and hope I see you again soon. This is an old Elmore James song called, ‘Crossroads’. I hope you like it as much as I do. Out with the old and in with the new,” he slurred in his now rather gravelly voice. Jason had tuned his guitar to the key of G to play slide on whilst announcing the tune. He started with a slow guitar introduction and stopped playing altogether during the vocals.
“I went down to the crossroads, with my head hung down and crying.”
Jason sang and played on to a captivated audience as the music that lived inside him boomed across the room, and when he had finished the crowd didn’t want to let him go. It’s said that the blues is nothing but a good man feeling bad; Jason was a blues man, an Australian bluesman.
Jason sat in the dressing room, leaning his chin between his hands, with his elbows on the table. Three encores by himself and he had enjoyed the show, but he still felt empty. Upset over losing so many friends that he had loved for so long, would this happen to his next efforts? He put his arms on the table and laid his head on them, and with his hair blocking some of the light, the smell of the familiar perfume haunted him again as he dropped off to sleep. Tom, who informed him that they had finished loading the gear and his amplifier and guitar were in his car, woke him. They agreed to stop for a coffee in North Adelaide on the way home, as Tom lived on the same side of town as Jason. During their conversation, the entertainment manager for the gig walked in to pay them. He thanked them for such a good night and expressed concern at the industry losing a band that always paid its way. He asked Jason to contact him if he got a new band happening, and then hastily left.
It was a warm summer’s night and the two friends sat under the umbrella of a sidewalk cafe.
“I’m trying a new band this afternoon at my parent’s place, so I can’t stay too long. I’ll need the sleep. You can come up if you want, or I can ring you,” said Jason in a now very tired voice.
“I’m doing a band tomorrow afternoon, so I can’t make it. I’d like you to let me know how it goes, soon as you can. Working with you is really great and I’d like to keep it that way,” replied Tom.
A cab pulled up alongside them and out of the door came a pair of perfect legs, the feet encased in black stiletto heels. Jason and Tom fixed their gaze on them and awaited the rest of the obviously female torso to emerge. Her legs were not too thin or too thick; her thighs and behind were in perfect unison with her chest. Her waist was two perfect curves joining them together. Jason sat paralysed as she closed the cab door and wiggled her way to a nearby table, sitting on her straight, jet black hair which hung down below her thighs. The familiar perfume stung their senses.
“Holy shit, what a doll,” Jason whispered.
“I’m going home before the night turns to day. Catch you soon,” said Tom as he put his hand on Jason’s shoulder shaking him gently. He stood and started to walk away, smiling.
“Yeah, err, yeah cool catch you soon,” Jason replied with lapsed attention, his gaze never leaving the stunning woman’s eyes as he tried to stop himself rising to his feet and walking towards her, but he couldn’t. He sat next to her.
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked with a warm smile.
“Of course, that’s why I stopped here,” she replied.
“For a coffee, or to get me to buy it for you?”
Her face looked familiar to him as he stared into her deep blue eyes. He had a flashback, her face fitted his anticipation of a love long lost, but her body didn’t fit his mental picture. A feeling of hopeless want came over him, he wanted it to be her, the perfume flashbacks, the hair standing up on his neck, the fumbling hands of anticipation.
“Both,” she said taking a mirror from her gold mesh handbag and rummaging around for her lipstick. “You sing and play in that band, ‘Asteroid’, don’t you?”
“Not any more, we broke up tonight.”
“Yes I know, I was there. It’s the best you have played for a long time. Especially the solo blues at the end, Reminds me of your first band ‘Blues Is Best’.”
“I’ve been in seven bands since then. ‘Blues Is Best’ was when I had just left school!” Jason said with a yearning for her to be who he thought she was.
“You’ve kept count too, Jason,” she said staring deep into his eyes.
“You know my name, I’ve haven’t seen, let alone met, anyone as beautiful as you, since I left school. You wouldn’t be? ... No.”
She found her lipstick and kept Jason on the edge of his seat while she glossed her lips. “You made fun of me all the time on the way home from school, it was really painful. You loved the smell of my mother’s expensive perfume. I lived opposite you in Stirling.”
Jason looked dazed and in disbelief, after all this time, there she was. There was only one other house on the road his parents lived in and that had burnt down a long time ago, not long after he left school, and was never rebuilt. The family that had lived there moved away.
“You’re Malinda McDonald. My first girlfriend, with the long pony tail and the perfume that gave you an erection at fifty metres!”
“That’s right Jason.”
“Your parents are millionaires and you moved away when your house burnt down while you were on holiday. Wow! You’ve done the most growing up I ever saw anyone do!” His voice reflected his continued disbelief as he shook his head.
They chatted for about half an hour about school days, exercise books and bicycle sheds. Jason looked at the time and knew he was going to have to go and get some sleep if today’s band practice was to be in any way successful. He had difficulty concentrating if he was too tired. Nothing meant more to him than his music, but he was trembling in her presence and felt a change coming over him.
“I’m trying a new band this afternoon and I really don’t want to leave you, but the shows take a lot out of me. I must get some sleep.”
“Take me with you.”
“Aren’t you married?”
“Twice, and divorced.”
“Look I live pretty basic. The culture shock may be a bit too much to take for you. By the look of you, I don’t think you’re exactly strapped for cash. I don’t think my car would be something you would be seen in on a regular basis either.”
“All the people I’ve ever been involved with have been millionaires and money is all they ever worried about. Including my father. I’m thirty-two years old just like you Jason, and my life is filled with nothing. I want things without having to go out and buy them. One of those things is you. Now take me home, see what happens and let’s get some rest, we’ve plenty of time to talk about it later.”
Jason pinched himself under the table, but no, he wasn’t asleep and he was definitely still there. He paid for the coffee and they walked down the sidewalk towards his car. Malinda took his hand. As she did, the hair on his back tingled. He couldn’t understand this fortunate turn in life, but he didn’t know that he was soon to face his life’s biggest challenges.
Jason’s desire for Malinda’s body and
soul crept through him like an incurable disease. His passion lusted for her as soon as he closed his unit door. He put his fingers inside the top of her dress. As he pushed her against the wall, he tore it down to the level of her navel, running his tongue up her body across her breasts and into her mouth. She pushed her dress over her thighs, with her panties and they dropped to the floor. She tore the buttons from his shirt, threw it back over his shoulders and bit into his neck.
He frantically undid his belt, dropped his jeans and jocks, kicking them off and taking his shoes and socks with them. She put her legs around him as he pulled her from the wall and he walked awkwardly, still kissing her, towards the bedroom, bouncing off the wall and door on the way. As they fell onto the bed he entered her, both giving a resounding groan. They exchanged deep passionate love, until they both fell into a heavy sleep.