Foolish Games

by Leah Spiegel

  “Bonnaroo, hello!”

  “Right,” I said, snapping my fingers. “That’s right, the concert you’ve been looking forward to.” Reaching for the door to head to the bathroom, Riley stopped me. “Where are you going? We need to go to Michaels, get food, and then be on the road or we’re going to be late.”

  “Riley, I have to brush my teeth.”

  “Yeah, at Michaels.” He beamed up at me again. All that was missing was the wagging puppy dog tail.

  “Okay.” I rolled my eyes and sunk into the driver’s seat. “Where’s the nearest—”

  “Two blocks away,” Riley interjected. “The store just opened or I would have driven there myself.”

  Wonderful, I shifted the gears and pulled out of the space. A few minutes later, we pulled into strip mall of chain stores. The parking lot was mostly vacant except for a few cars which I assumed belonged to the people who worked there. Riley had already woken up Lizzie on the drive over.

  “Do they know who the crew member is yet?” Riley turned to ask Lizzie.

  “Warren said no,” she grumbled, not totally awake yet.

  “How much is the ransom?”

  “Five million!”

  “Oh, my god.” Riley’s eyes widened. “The band wouldn’t have that kind of money, would they?”

  “No” Lizzie agreed. “They don’t.”

  The conversation was cut short when I pulled the van into a space in front of the store and cut off the engine. Hiking my bag over my shoulder, I exited the van. Lizzie flung open the side door, with a hard expression on her face, and got out. She had a bad case of bed head and winced from the sun even though she had on a pair of oversized white sunglasses that swallowed up half her face. Riley merely ran a hand threw his hair, the only preparation he ever really needed to look good, and smiled. I, on the other hand, needed an entourage of stylists or just a decent shower.

  Riley led the way across the short distance of the parking lot to the store. We passed through the sliding glass doors and moaned happily as we enjoyed the cool draft of air conditioning. Riley grabbed a gray cart from a stacked line, hopped on to it and whisked away from us.

  “Someone’s happy,” Lizzie yawned.

  “Yeah, he is and I’ll be happy when I find a restroom.”

  Quickly finding it, I pushed through the door and blinked at my reflection in the mirror. “Oh, girl,” I said sympathetically. “You look like a hot mess.” Manically, I ran my fingers through my dark brown hair trying to untangle it with a little luck. Digging through my book bag, I found a comb and with difficulty but better success ran it threw my hair. After I brushed my teeth and rinsed my face, I stuck my tongue out at my reflection before leaving the restroom.

  Taking my time, I caught up to Lizzie and Riley in one of the art aisles. Along the shelves to the left were little bottles of acrylic paints. Every color filled the small shelves that were packed one on top of the other. Large tubes of oil paints were followed by small tubes of watercolors.

  Riley was looking down at a tube of red acrylic paint. He tossed it into his gray cart and proceeded to pick up a tube of blue paint. Lizzie, who had apparently come to life while I was gone, started venting.

  “I can’t believe he called me a kid,” Lizzie said with a red feather boa she must have found wrapped around her neck. “And he called you the adult.”

  Whistling to myself and ignoring her, I looked up at a group of white canvases along a high rack across from the end of the aisle because I didn’t know what to say to her. I thought his insult would have stop her fascination with Hawkins, but—

  “I like challenges.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. I followed behind Riley who had rounded the corner with the cart to the kids’ section of arts and crafts. Crayola crayons, markers, clay, face paint, and other fun projects filled the shelves. Riley picked up a bottle of silver glitter.

  I turned to look at him skeptically and asked, “Glitter?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He smiled. “The crazier the better, it’s Bonnaroo, man!”

  “Did you ever notice Hawkins’ blue eyes?” Lizzie continued behind us.

  “How could someone not?” I let the comment slip before I realized it.

  Both Riley and Lizzie stopped what they were doing to stare at me.

  “Whatever, they’re bright,” I mumbled while glancing down at a bag of glow sticks. “So explain this to me again? It’s a four day concert?”

  “Yeah…” Riley paused only momentarily at my admission and change of subject. “We’ll only be there for one day because that’s how long the band will be there, but still,” Riley beamed, “it’s going to be so much fun. I’m so stoked.”

  “And you’re going to paint yourself, huh?”

  “Everybody does.” He nodded and crossed in front of me to grab a few glow sticks.

  “It’s not even the color, but the way he uses his eyes. It’s sexy,” Lizzie gushed. “Our children would be beautiful.” She continued to have a conversation with herself while holding a box of crayons in her hands. “I mean, gorgeous kids.”

  Beyond tired of it, I said, “Kids?” I held the stare just long enough, waiting for that word to bring up a more recent memory.

  She groaned right on cue and slapped down the small box. “I can’t believe he called me a kid!”

  “I know,” I said trying to sound sympathetic before I turned to Riley and asked, “So do we have what we need?”

  He tossed some spray paint into the cart and said, “Yep.”

  “I better get him wrapped around my finger.” She blatantly stared at me as we got in line. “In case someone comes along and tries to snatch him up.”

  “Don’t you need some duct tape?” I asked sarcastically, looking at Riley for help.

  “He could have anyone,” she continued.

  “Okay, okay, Lizzie, we’ve heard your master plan.” Riley tried to shush her. He tossed the contents of the cart onto the counter. By the time he was done, a large heap of art supplies filled the small space to the side of the scanner.

  “What?” Lizzie tilted her head. “I was just saying.” She shrugged innocently. “He is rich and famous.”

  “Wow, an art project,” the cashier interrupted and smiled at us.

  “You could say that,” Riley agreed with a big ole grin on his face. A few minutes later, the lady handed him a huge bag full of art supplies and we exited the store. Riley led the way across the parking lot to the van.

  “Oh, Riley, I didn’t tell you,” Lizzie continued to gush as Riley’s shoulders slouched. This was his day and Lizzie was kind of killing it.

  “What?” he said with an edge as he slid back the side door.

  “Hawkins told me this funny story. I guess he streaked through this park and an old lady stopped him.”

  “The cops stopped him,” I interrupted her.

  “Okay, enough!” Riley glared at us. “This is how this day is going to go.”

  We both looked over at him with guilty expressions on our faces.

  “I’m covering myself in paint. I’m going to get wasted. I’m going to watch Jerry Garcia play with The Grateful Dead again or at least I’m going to be so freaking gone that I think I did. And the two of you are going to shut the hell up! I don’t want to hear another word about Hawkins, Hawkins’ babies, Hawkins’ money, or who Hawkins likes better.” He aimed the first glare at me. “Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir.” We both looked down in the direction of our belly buttons.

  “I love Bonnaroo!” he said with glee again and that was that.

  Lizzie and I helped cover Riley in blue paint with yellow swirls around his calves and red polka dots down his arms. We topped his look off with green alien antennas. Lizzie and I were in such good spirits that we painted little silver and gold streaks across our faces. Lizzie changed into a black bikini top and a pair of cropped denim shorts. She then helped me put a knot in my shirt so it hugged my chest and revealed my midriff. Looking a
round at us, I wondered what the hell we were about to get ourselves into? We stocked up on bottled water and snacks at the nearest grocery store, attracting the strangest looks from the other customers. We giggled at ourselves while crossing the parking lot to the van before we started our long drive to Manchester, Tennessee.

  The mountains were the first true test of whether or not the van was going make it as it crawled along. By the time we started to see the overhead highway signs for the town, the sun was just setting along the horizon.

  “Holy, hell,” I muttered the first words that came to me when we pulled into the camping grounds. We were surrounded by miles and miles of campers and vehicles. Fans were dressed in costumes, covered in paint and mud.

  “Is this like a Woodstock?” I asked Riley as we drove along an off-road pathway.

  “It’s Bonnaroo, man!”

  “Yeah, caught that.”

  We finally parked and Riley bolted out of the van. Looking around at the endless stream of vehicles, I wondered if he was going to be able to find the van at the end of the night. That thought disappeared when to my surprise Riley started to mount the top of the van. This was his day I reminded myself. He helped pull Lizzie on top as well.

  “Joie!”

  Lord have mercy.

  In minutes, we were all on top of the van. Lizzie danced to the music pounding out of a nearby white Corolla. Riley twirled me around as we joined in on the fun. The energy was so infectious that even I was having a good time after a while. Other fans waved up at us and soon even a complete stranger had joined us on top of my van. “Bob” was a true hippy with sandy blonde dreads, beige cords and bare feet. He swayed back and forth with Lizzie before waving goodbye to us.

  When night fell, we decided to head into the place. It was a maze of stages playing different music over two miles long. I wasn’t sure which stage The Grimm Brothers Band was going to play on, but the other two seemed unfazed. We maneuvered through a tight moving crowd of girls dressed in bikini tops and shirtless guys covered in tattoos. We took a detour so Riley could run back and forth under a mushroom-shaped water fountain. Blue paint was dripping off of him, but I had never seen him look so utterly content. We continued to walk until I heard the familiar cry of the saxophone. Homing in on the sound of Hawkins’ voice, I gently pulled Lizzie away from a group of guys.

  “Hey,” she slurred.

  “Hawkins, remember?”

  “Ohh.” She stumbled along. “Hawkins!” Lizzie started to shout. “Hawkins, you sexy…oops.” She tripped and then pulled herself back up. “Hawkins!”

  Riley willingly danced along the edge of the crowd. Then out of nowhere, he collapsed down with his legs crossed.

  “Okay, Riley has found a spot,” I mumbled to myself, but Lizzie was edging onward.

  “Hawkins!” she roared.

  Pressing both of my hands to the side of my face, I thought, oh, my god, this was like having children! Dropping my arms, I walked forward to gently pull Lizzie back to Riley’s spot, but onward she went again. After the third time I finally retrieved her, I pointed to a hot guy near Riley.

  “OHH.” She shimmied up to the guy, who didn’t mind the beautiful company. I had everyone sort of contained and sighed to myself. Strangely, Hawkins’ voice was comforting. It was the only familiar thing in the world of the strange and bizarre. Though, we were so far away that I could block out the stage with just the tip of my thumb, I could hear the music as though I was right next to it.

  As the concert continued, Lizzie sat down beside us in the field, which was an unexpected surprise. Riley looked like he was finally having that concert with Jerry Garcia and The Grateful Dead. And I was just glad when the concert was over. I rounded up my crew as the crowd began to flow away from the stage, making it easier for us to approach it.

  “Joie, I’m good,” Riley insisted, trying to pull away from my grip.

  “Oh, hell no,” I told him.

  We inched along while I scanned the security staff in front of the stage. I didn’t recognize anyone from the usual crowd of bodyguards. Lizzie started to lead the way like she had a GPS tracker of the band in her head.

  “This way.” She edged to the right.

  “Joie, I don’t want to go yet,” Riley persisted.

  “Riley, I’m not leaving you,” I scolded him.

  “It’s Bonnaroo,” he sounded disappointed, but coherent. “This is probably the first time that I rather stay behind than go with you guys.”

  “Are you sure?” Searching his face, I could tell he was serious.

  “Ah, yeah, I’m fine, but you might want to catch up with Lizzie though.” He pointed ahead.

  “Do you have your cell on you?”

  He patted his back pocket. “Yep.”

  “Okay,” I agreed and kissed his alien forehead. I turned around to chase after Lizzie who had sniffed out Hampton on the right side of stage. Hampton helped pull Lizzie up over a black gated fence in front of the stage.

  “Wonderful.” I headed towards the gate determined to climb it by myself. That was until Hampton wrapped his strong arms around my waist and quickly pulled me over. A couple of excited fans went for the fence, too, but they were immediately stopped by a line of guards.

  Hampton turned on a flashlight and led the way down a dark, narrow pathway not accessible to the crowd. Hawkins was waiting there with an entourage of bodyguards. “Just wanted to make sure that you didn’t skip out on me,” he said, all macho like, but I sensed something else in his tone. Was he concerned? The place looked like it advertised for crazy mayhem. He turned on some kind of silent cue and we followed in behind him.

  The trail was filled with little pebbles and lined with low chains that looped from one small post to another on either side. Looking down, I watched the flashlight bob from side to side in Hampton’s hand in front of us. The last thing I needed to do was trip.

  “Umph!” I collided hard into someone and stumbled back. Holding my hands out, I tried to brace myself as I fell to the ground. Wincing, I rubbed my thigh to brush off the embedded pebbles.

  “Are you okay?” A gruff voice asked, full of concern. In the next second I was blinded by another flashlight. Grimacing from the light, I raised my hand to see what or who I had run into.

  “Geez, don’t put the light up in her face,” the guy lightly reprimanded the bodyguard beside him. Awkwardly, I tried to stand when a set of solid hands helped center me.

  “Yeah, I’m just a little scuffed up,” I mumbled while taking inventory of myself.

  “Joie, you should watch where you’re going,” Lizzie scolded me. The initial pain vanished as anger flooded through my veins.

  I looked over at Lizzie in outrage and then followed her gaze back up to the guy who came to my rescue. “Oh, holy shit,” I sputtered out as I continued to stare up at him. Through the darkness, I could finally make out the expression across the face of the tall, built man. He arched an eyebrow at me as the expression in his eyes changed from concern to amusement.

  “Yeah, she’s fine.” Hawkins continued to watch me openly gawk.

  “That’s Dave Matthews,” I said, like he wasn’t standing right there in front of me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Dave Matthews is asking if I’m okay.” I turned to Hawkins. “Dave Matthews!”

  “I guess she must have bumped her head…hard.” Hawkins rolled his eyes then added, “Good show tonight.”

  “Hey, you too.” Dave and Hawkins exchanged some kind of guy hug.

  “I’m a huge fan of your music,” I blurted out. Well, my brother was the true diehard fan, but I had grown up with their music playing constantly in our house. I held my hand out for his.

  He shook my hand and smiled. “We do appreciate our fans.”

  It sounded like something Hawkins would say politely to the crazies. Dave Matthews waved before they ushered him away from us.

  Looking towards Lizzie I said, “That was Dave Matthews.”

  “And I
’ve never been more humiliated in my life,” Lizzie groaned.

  Ignoring Lizzie I continued, “Kyle’s going to flip when he hears.”

  I looked over at Hawkins’ confused and somewhat annoyed expression. “What?”

  “You don’t act that way around me,” he said suspiciously. “All star struck.”

  “You’re good,” I rambled while my brain adjusted to meeting the famous musician. “It’s just that they are really good. I mean Carter is a legend.”

  “Carter?”

  “Carter Beauford, the drummer?”

  “Yeah, I know who he is.” He half laughed. “I just didn’t know that you were on a first name basis with Carter.”

  “Whatever.” I beamed. “Dave Matthews just shook my hand.”

  “I think you mentioned that,” Hawkins muttered.

  “I think that you’re great.” Lizzie flashed her megawatt smile.

  “Thanks,” Hawkins said flatly and glared ahead.

  Hampton led us through a small patch of trees until I finally saw a line of shiny tour buses. A row of expensive vehicles were lined in front of the tour buses. In the distance, a black Escalade flashed its headlights and Hampton pointed his hand out towards the SUV.

  “There’s your ride,” Hampton instructed Lizzie and me. Hawkins left us and followed behind Harrison without even saying goodbye.

  Hurrying, I caught up to Lizzie who was already halfway across the fenced in parking lot. Looking down, I noticed my knotted t-shirt. Oh, my god! Why, was it that I always dressed like a ho when I met a famous rock star for the first time? And who knew what Hawkins had thought about the awful getup. I worked on unknotting the t-shirt, while Lizzie opened the door and got inside the black Escalade. I followed, jumping in and shutting the door behind me. Trying to smooth out the now wrinkled shirt, I realized that it was hopeless.

  “Hello, ladies,” Cyrus said with a gust of cigarette breath over his shoulder.

  “Hey, you,” Lizzie flirted.

  Once again I didn’t need to be there for the conversation so I ignored him as I fastened myself in and he pulled the Escalade out of the parking lot. We hit a patch of muddy road and the Escalade shook us up and down. Once on the main road, I noticed that we were following signs for the airport. A sickening cold shiver raced up my back. We followed the twisting, winding road up to a security gate near the flight lanes of the airport. I froze when I saw in the distance a large, white jet since I was deathly afraid of flying.