Poked

by Naomi Niles

  After I had got out, I did feel refreshed and energized, and my mind felt a lot clearer. Well, I guess I needed to approach this problem like I would any other: with logic and good old common sense. What meant the most to Mackenzie was her music, and I thought that the best way to demonstrate to her that I did care about her and wanted to see her again was to do something with her music.

  I went to my computer room, turned it on, and looked up a few of her performances on YouTube. One of her videos with the highest view count was a cover of one of James Masters’ songs – a song that I knew well. In fact, I knew James personally – he had been a friend of my father's. I hadn't seen him for a few years, and since he was a famous singer and lead a busy life, he hadn't been around to the ranch to visit for years. Still, I had his contact information, and I knew that there was a possibility that I might be able to call in a favor with him. He did owe my family something of debt, as when he'd been a young man, prior to his singing fame, my grandfather had given him a job on the ranch when he was penniless. That's how he'd gotten to know my father, who was a teenager at the time. Years later, his music finally took off, but we'd given him a helping hand when he'd needed it, and he was a good man, so I knew that he'd return the favor.

  I got out my old book of contacts – I preferred to keep 'em written down, old-school like, rather than just storing them on a phone or computer – and looked up James's number. I gave him a call, and couldn't help but smile when I heard that raspy voice greet me.

  “Well, well, well, I see this call is coming from the Lawson ranch,” he said. “Is that you, young Chance?”

  “It is, James. How've ya been? It's been a long time, old friend. I see you're still going strong with your music.”

  “Hell yeah. Seventy-one years old, and still tourin' across the country. Did you hear my latest album?”

  “Sure did! I've got a copy here that you need to come autograph!”

  He chuckled.

  “I sure do. I miss the ranch, I do. Spent some of the best years a' my life there. And I do miss your daddy and granddaddy. They were such good men. But I see you're continuing the family name with pride, Chance. They'd be real proud of you, son, real proud of you.”

  “Thanks, James. Listen, I hate to do this, but I'd like to ask you for a favor. Just something small, and only if you can fit it into your schedule, which I know is real busy.”

  “Well, I'd be happy to help a Lawson, I'll tell ya that. What is it that you need, young Chance?”

  I went on to explain how he could help me, and I smiled when he responded.

  “That sounds perfectly do-able, young Chance. Perfectly do-able indeed. I'll be in Nashville for three days from Friday. Can we make it work then?”

  I scrolled through Mackenzie's Facebook profile, found what I needed, and then replied.

  “Friday's perfect, James. Here are the details...”

  ***

  I strolled into the bar and found it packed. There were easily seven or eight hundred people in here; it really was crammed full, wall to wall. I was happy to see this; Mackenzie would have a great audience for her show – and for the surprise that I'd set up for her. She wasn't the main act of the evening, but she was playing just before them. They were a well-known band out of Texas, doing a tour. Right now, a young local band was playing some fast Southern rock, and I couldn't help but tap my feet and nod my head to the beat as I made my way over to the bar, scanning the crowd all the while for a sign of Mackenzie.

  I didn't have to look too far; as I pushed past a big, broad biker to get to the bar, I saw her right in front of me. I couldn't help but stare for a while, allowing my eyes to rove over her body. She was wearing tight jeans which accentuated the exquisite curve of her ass and her strong, curvy legs, while a form-fitting, flannel shirt showcased her narrow waist and slim shoulders. She was wearing a cowboy hat, from under which her chestnut hair, thick and wavy and silky, tumbled down over her shoulders. God, she was gorgeous.

  She must have felt me staring because she turned around and looked at me. As our eyes met, I felt sparks shooting across the air between us. The connection was there, and we both knew it. We both felt it.

  “Well, look who it is,” she said with a smile. “Hello for the second time, Chance Lawson.”

  “Hello, Miss Shea,” I replied. “And let me start out by apologizing most sincerely for my behavior when we last saw each other.”

  “Well, I have to apologize as well,” she replied. “And about that money—”

  “No, we're square,” I said. “I won't accept a penny from you.”

  “That doesn't mean you get to take me out again.”

  “I know. You made it perfectly clear I should prove that I really did want to see you again.”

  “And you think you're doing it now, by coming to one of my shows? I'm glad that you came, but it'll take a little more than that to impress me, Chance.” I smiled.

  “You think I don't know that? C'mon now, don't underestimate me. I've got something planned. Something I think you'll like,” I assured her.

  She smiled, and a rush of pleasure zipped through me. She really did have a gorgeous smile.

  “And what might that be, Chance?” she questioned.

  I shook my head. “I ain't saying a word now. It's a surprise.”

  “Sometimes I don't like surprises.”

  “Oh, you'll like this one. Say, what are you ordering at the bar? It's on me.”

  “Just water. I never drink before a show.”

  “Fair enough. I'll buy you a drink after you've played then.”

  “Who says I'll allow you to do that?”

  I grinned. “I think you will. I think you will.”

  “We'll see about that.”

  The bartender brought her a glass of water, and she took it and stepped away from the bar.

  “I'll be heading backstage now. I'm up in ten minutes. Maybe I'll see you after the show... maybe.”

  “Not a doubt in my mind,” I replied.

  “We'll see,” she said as she walked away. “We'll see.”

  I watched her go and then stepped up to take her place at the bar and ordered a beer. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself with anticipation. This was going to be some surprise – and I was pretty damn sure it was gonna work.

  ***

  I sat at my table near the stage, totally mesmerized by Mackenzie's voice and music. She was so talented, so angelic, and so passionate up there that I couldn't help wonder how it was that she wasn't yet famous.

  As the applause died down, she leaned forward and spoke into the mic.

  “Thank you, thank you! All right, ya’ll, I've got one song left, and I'm gonna be playing a song I think ya’ll will know. It's an old song by James Masters, and it's a song that's real close to my heart. It's—”

  At that moment a stagehand ran onto the stage and whispered something in Mackenzie's ear. I grinned and chuckled to myself. This was it – this was the moment I'd been planning. A look of sheer panic and shock passed over Mackenzie's beautiful face as some more stage hands ran out with an extra microphone and an extra chair, which they set down next to Mackenzie. And then, as James Masters himself walked onto the stage, the crowd went insane. Nobody here had expected this – especially not Mackenzie. Her jaw dropped in disbelief as she saw one of her music idols walking towards her with his guitar slung over his shoulder. They hugged briefly, and I thought I caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes. This was perfect.

  A stagehand plugged in James's guitar and set his chair and mic up next to Mackenzie's. He leaned forward into his mic and addressed the crowd.

  “Yee-haw!” he whooped into the mic, and everyone cheered. “This here pretty young thing has been playing a version of my song for a few years now,” he said. “And maybe ya’ll will like her version better, maybe you’ll like mine. But I'm an old man, and I ain't too good at learnin' new things, so how about we play it my way tonight?”

  The crowd cheered, and he loo
ked across at Mackenzie with a smile.

  “Can you do it my way, with me?” he asked her.

  Beaming an ear-to-ear grin at him, she nodded.

  “Perfect. Well, let's get it on! This here song is called Thunder and Rain...”

  He started strumming the opening chords, and immediately the crowd fell silent. Mackenzie played along, hitting the chords and rhythm perfectly, and when they began to sing together, I think everyone got goosebumps. It was that good. I sat, totally focused on the amazing performance happening in front of me, and when it was over, I, like everyone else, jumped up from my seat and applauded and cheered wildly. It had been perfect – just perfect.

  Chapter Nine

  Mackenzie

  As soon as I finished the song, my hands started shaking. I couldn't believe it, I still couldn't believe it, even though it was happening, even though it had totally happened. One of my musical icons here, up on this stage, with me! Playing his song, singing a duet with him! This was absolutely mind-blowing and was, without a doubt, one of the highlights of my musical career. James Masters was one of the reasons I'd first picked up a guitar, and Thunder and Rain was one of my favorite songs of all time, so much so that I'd reworked it into my own version and played it as a staple in almost all of my shows. And here I was, playing it with the very man who wrote it!

  I couldn't believe I'd gotten through the song without slipping up, but somehow I had. All the nerves and jaw-dropping shock I'd felt when James had walked out onto the stage had vanished as soon as I had started strumming those familiar chords, and when I sang with him, all my notes had been perfect. It had been as if the audience had just vanished, and it was just James sitting with me in my teenage bedroom where I'd spent so many lonely hours learning that song.

  I almost couldn't hear the thunderous applause as it resounded all around me, the wild cheers and the adulation of the crowd. None of that mattered – just the joy of this moment. I knew it would be a moment that I'd remember for the rest of my life. I glanced down at one of the tables near the stage and saw Chance smiling up at me as he applauded, and he had a cheeky gleam in his eye – and then I knew that somehow this was his doing. He had somehow arranged for James to come here and play the song with me.

  I was surprised, but also happy. Perhaps the rumors about him weren't true. Would he really go to such lengths for someone he just intended to take to bed a few times and then ditch? It couldn't have been an easy task to get someone like James Masters to come out and play with me, a relatively unknown musician, in a bar like this. But he had done it – and he had done it for me.

  I beamed a huge, genuine smile and he winked and sipped on his beer. He and I were going to have a good chat when I got off stage, I knew that much. But first, I absolutely had to have a chat with James. Sheesh, I mean, here was one of my musical heroes mere feet away from me! I leaned forward into my mic before James could say anything.

  “Ladies and gents, that was the one and only James Masters!” I exclaimed.

  The crowd cheered again, and James chuckled and bowed as they applauded. Then he took his mic and spoke.

  “And that, ya’ll, was Mackenzie Shea!”

  The crowd roared their approval, and I couldn't help but blush because they cheered almost as loud for me as they had for James.

  “I want ya’ll to remember this night, because one day when this young lady's name is in lights, and she's playing on festival stages with the best of us, ya’ll can say, 'I saw her before she got big.' And trust me, with a voice like that and songs like hers, she's goin' places! Big places!”

  I got off my chair and gave James a big hug, and felt almost as if I was going to burst into tears. I leaned away from the mic so that the audience couldn't hear me speak.

  “James, thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't believe that you came out here and did this. You've made a childhood dream of mine come true. You're... you're my hero, you really are.

  “It was a pleasure to perform with you, young lady,” he replied with a warm smile. “And I'll tell ya what, with a voice like yours, you're going to be a musical hero to plenty a' kids one day too. And I ain't just sayin' that – I really do believe that you're going to be big. Ya just gotta keep at it, believe in yourself, and never, ever give up.”

  We took one last bow for the audience, who applauded again, and then the MC came on stage to announce that the headlining act was about to start. James and I walked off stage and headed into the backstage area, and there I found Chance waiting for us with a grin on his face and three fresh, cold beers in his hand.

  “You're done performin', so you can have this now,” he said as he handed me a beer.

  “Thank you,” I replied as I took it, smiling broadly at him.

  “And this one's for you, old friend,” he said as he handed a beer to James.

  “Thank you kindly, young Mr. Lawson,” he said as he took the beer from Chance.

  We headed over to a large sofa with a coffee table and sat down on it. It felt good to kick back and relax after the intensity of being up there on stage.

  “So you're responsible for this, are you?” I asked Chance. I really couldn't get the grin off my face. The moment was still so surreal.

  “He is,” replied James. “I owed Mr. Lawson here a favor or two, and he called one in. I happened to be in Nashville for the weekend, so it all worked out pretty well.”

  “Sorry to be so star struck, if that's how I seem, but how is it that you owed Chance a favor?” I asked.

  James chuckled.

  “I wasn't always a famous country singer, ya know. I ran away from home when I was fifteen. My father was an awful man . . . used to drink all the time, beat up on my mom and sisters. And my mom, she just wouldn't leave him. Couldn't, I guess. He hated me, that man, and I felt the same about him. Got to the point where I just couldn't take it no more, so I took my guitar and a few clothes – only things I owned in the world – and hopped on a timber train with some hobos. I hopped trains all across the country, buskin’ in small towns until cops chased me out. It was good to be free, but it was takin' a toll on my health. I'd sometimes go for days without eatin’ and sleepin' rough in the back a' train cars or under bridges wasn't too good for me neither. I was buskin' one time in Nashville, and Luke Lawson – this man's granddaddy – saw me. He was impressed with my singin' an' playin' but saw that my health was in a real bad way. He told me I could come stay on his ranch if I was willing to put in a hard day's work every day and in exchange for that he'd give me board, lodging, and weekends off to play my music. It saved me, that ranch. It really did. I was able to get healthy again and focus on playin' without havin' to worry about bein' hassled by cops or roughed up by other hobos or bein' robbed and beaten up on the streets. Workin' on the Lawson ranch is where I wrote the songs that would make up my first two albums.”

  “Wow!” I said, genuinely impressed. “That's quite a story.”

  “And that's why I say to you, Miss Shea, persevere. Stick with your talent. Give it everything you've got. If I can come out on top, comin' from where I came from, you can too. Trust me on that.”

  “He speaks words of wisdom, this man does,” interjected Chance. “And he imparted plenty of that on impressionable young me when I was growin' up on the ranch.”

  “But...you wouldn't have even been alive at that time,” I commented, feeling a little confused.

  “No, I don't mean when James was a young man, working there. I mean when he came to visit when I was a boy. He was already long since famous and accomplished by then, but he still came to the ranch to stay and visit whenever he was passing through Nashville.”

  “That's right,” commented James. “I always paid my respects to Luke whenever I came through this town. And, of course, I wanted to see Chance's dad, Bryan, who was just a few years younger than me. He and I spent a lot of time together on the ranch when I was a young man, and we became fast friends. Friends for life, in fact.”

  “That's amazing,” I
commented. “All this time I knew a personal friend of James Masters and didn't even know it!”

  I glanced across at Chance who winked and smiled at me.

  “There's a lot you don't know about me,” he commented.

  “And a lot you don't know about me,” I countered, smiling.

  “And, judging by the looks I see passing between the two of ya’ll,” interjected James with a cheeky smile, “that's a situation that the two of ya’ll need to remedy!”

  I blushed, and Chance just chuckled knowingly.

  At that moment, the door opened, and Jason and Lilly walked in. Lilly smiled as James stood to greet her. She wasn't star struck at all since she had met him a few times before. Of course, having met plenty of country legends during her time in a famous band, it wasn’t much of a big deal to her. Jason, not being much of a country fan, didn't really know who he was talking to, so he just gave James a polite smile and a handshake. He then greeted Chance, and I could detect a little coldness in the way he greeted him. Perhaps he still believed the rumors he had heard about him.

  “Ah, Lilly Wright,” said James with a smile. “One of the most talented sticks-men – or sticks-women, I should say – that I've had the pleasure of seeing perform. Are The Wild Oats ever gonna get back together?”

  “I'm not sure if that's gonna happen anytime soon,” Lilly replied. “But I'll let you know if it does.”

  “I hope it does!” he exclaimed. “I was one of your biggest fans!”

  We all laughed. James' manager then came in and whispered something in his ear.

  “Ladies and gents, it's been a pleasure,” he said as he finished off the last sip of his beer, “but I have some pressing engagements I need to attend to, and a few fans waiting outside for autographs.”

  A sudden impulse struck me, and I jumped up off the sofa.