“We need the name now, Judge. America’s waiting.”
“Panda,” the judge finally burst out. “I’m choosing to put Panda through.”
Sean immediately turned and hugged Panda, and told her she deserved to go on. A true bad boy through and through, Caleb thought, but one hell of a good guy too. Then Sean looked at Caleb, and Caleb could see by the spotlight in his eyes that he was crying. He smiled and gave Caleb two reassuring thumbs-up, and then he walked off the stage for his last time.
Caleb was still watching him go when the spotlight hit his eyes. Jordyn was standing next to him, and she reached and took his hand in hers. He would have rather faced the judge alone, but Jordyn’s grip was tight and she wouldn’t let go.
Oh well, he thought, she’s probably just as nervous as I am.
Then Caleb saw the host speak, and he was aware that the judge had begun to ramble on about how great he and Jordyn each were, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t understand a word. It was as if the stage and the judges and the people had retreated to some faraway place, his body standing there in the spotlight, but his mind and soul and heart were a thousand miles away with Jane. He heard her parting words: I love you, Caleb. I love you no matter what. Rich or poor, win or lose. And I’ll be waiting right here for you when you return.
He could see Jane’s face, the crease in the corner of her lips and the twinkle in her eyes when she smiled. He could taste her kiss good-bye. Smell the shampoo in her hair. And he wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel the skin of her cheek with his fingertips, caress the delicate flesh at the back of her neck. And he wanted to tell her that he loved her and that he always had and always would. Rich or poor, win or lose, no matter what the world threw at them, they would face it together.
“Caleb. Did you hear me, Caleb?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, coming to and looking up at the judge. “Did I hear what?”
“We need your decision; we’re running out of time.”
“My decision?”
Caleb looked around, feeling very confused. Then Jordyn squeezed his hand and leaned in to him and rose onto her tiptoes and whispered in his ear.
“Just go along with me,” she said. “You’re going through. Nod if you understand.”
He nodded and Jordyn lifted their joined hands into the air. “Yes, we’ll do it! We’ll go through together.”
The applause sign lit up, and the audience rose to their feet and clapped and cheered.
Did she say together?
Caleb looked over at Jordyn. “What do you mean, together?”
But it was so loud now on the soundstage, none of the microphones caught his comment. And if Jordyn did, she only ignored his question and kept on smiling and waving for the cameras.
“Dude, did you have a seizure up there, or what? You really had no idea what she asked?”
Caleb splashed cold water on his face again, then raised his head and watched it drip off in the bathroom mirror. He could see Sean standing in the doorway behind him.
“I didn’t hear a word, Sean. I was all wrapped up in a daydream, and the next thing I knew, everyone was clapping and Jordyn was lifting my hand up in the air like I’d won a boxing match or something. She said I was going through, but I didn’t know it meant both of us as a stupid duo.”
“Still, a duo’s better than going home, dude.”
Caleb dried his face with a towel, then turned to look at Sean. “You think so?”
“Sure. You still get the recording contract if you win, even if you do have to split the advance. And I don’t know about you, but I sure wouldn’t turn down a quarter million dollars.”
Caleb tossed the used towel on the floor and sighed. “What did the judge say? Did you hear?”
“I was watching the monitors backstage. She just went on about what an impossible choice it was, same as they all do, but then she said she loved your duet so much that she had a proposition for you. She said you could go through together if you both agreed to be a duo. Otherwise, she’d choose one.”
“I just wonder why she did it. And why did Jordyn agree to go through with me? She seemed like a lock to me.”
“Maybe because she’s into you, man.”
“I don’t think so. I think she’s just smart and conniving, even though I can’t see her angle yet.”
“Well, whatever, dude. She’s not bad to look at anyway.”
“I’ve got a girl, Sean. And I intend to marry her.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’re dead, dude.”
Caleb walked past Sean into the room and flopped down onto his bed with a sigh. He picked up his phone and checked it. He’d sent a text to Jane with the news, but she hadn’t replied yet. He glanced at the clock and figured that she must still be out working since it was Friday evening.
He set the phone down and looked at Sean. “Hey, what are you even doing here? It’s our last night. Shouldn’t you be out running the town?”
Sean looked down at his feet and shrugged. “Nah, I’ve seen enough of L.A., dude. I’m looking forward to getting home.”
Caleb could tell that Sean was depressed. He just wasn’t sure if it was because they would be going their separate ways in the morning or because Sean wouldn’t be coming back.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” Caleb announced, hopping off the bed. “Let’s get out of here together and go have some fun.”
“Really? Where would we go?”
“You could show me Canter’s Deli.”
“You really wanna see it?”
“Sure. I love Guns N’ Roses. And I wouldn’t mind walking Sunset Strip. I’ve been here this whole time, and all I’ve seen is that stupid soundstage and the inside of this room.”
“Sweet. We can hit up Jumbo’s Clown Room too.”
Caleb had his shirt half on when he paused. “Jumbo’s Clown Room? I’m afraid to even ask.”
“Dude, it’s the land of milk and honey. They claim it’s the best alternative pole-dancing club in Hollywood.”
“What do you mean by ‘alternative’?”
“The girls are insane. Big ones, little ones. There was a midget last week. And they’re all tatted up and pierced.”
Caleb laughed and pulled his shirt the rest of the way on. “Let’s start with Canter’s and see what happens.”
They caught a cab in front of the hotel and had it drop them at Canter’s Deli. Caleb had expected to be impressed, but it just seemed like an all-night diner with a bar attached, except that there were photos of the owner together with Slash on the wall above their booth. They ate thick pastrami sandwiches, and Caleb had a glass of cold milk while Sean had a Heineken. Then Caleb held the menu up for cover while Sean used his pocketknife to add his initials to the hundreds of others on the wooden booth.
When they left they walked up to Hollywood Boulevard, passing crazy cartoon-costumed street characters posing for pictures with tourists, passing Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and its creepy concrete footprints from the past, passing Marilyn Monroe, and James Dean, and even Elvis twice, once young, once old. They walked on past the Roxy and the House of Blues, doubling back to stop into Musso and Frank, where they sat at the bar and pretended to be Hollywood bigwigs. Caleb had a club soda while he watched Sean down martinis and a dish of baked escargot, because they had neither in Iowa, or so Caleb assumed. Then they headed deeper into the Strip.
There they walked beneath the warm glow of a thousand billboards from a bygone era, and they talked about their lives and their hopes and their dreams, and about music, of course, music being the thing that connected all three. And they were not alone. Their shadows followed beside them with the ghosts of Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison, forever young, forever falling in love with life and with music and with one another, the voices of sweet poetry and endless possibility, their conversations
still echoing just beneath the din and clamor of the clubs, if one were drunk enough, or brave enough, to put his ear to the sidewalk and listen.
“I hear Van Halen,” Sean said. “How about you?”
“I’ve got Poison. No, wait. Mötley Crüe.”
They pushed their way into a club and got lost in the neon fog and the electric sound. The crowd separated them for several sets until Caleb finally found Sean bent over a toilet and heaving between promises to never drink again. If he lived, he said. Caleb cleaned him up and they left the club, then walked arm in arm back to Canter’s for coffee and eggs.
“It was coming out of both ends,” Sean said, stirring sugar into his third coffee. “I think I’ve got Montezuma’s revenge.”
“Dude, you’re in L.A., not Mexico.”
“I think it was those snails.”
“Might have been the martinis,” Caleb suggested. “Or the shots of tequila, perhaps.”
Sean shrugged and sipped his coffee. “Maybe,” he said.
They sat for a while and listened to two drunken girls in the next booth, working together to craft responses to text messages from boys they’d met this very night who were already trying to bed them.
“How come you don’t drink?” Sean asked, out of the blue.
“I used to drink a little,” Caleb said. “But I started having a bit of a problem putting it down and it scared me sober. My dad and my mom both died from booze. Well, my mom died in a car wreck, but she was drunk.”
“Don’t you find it’s hard to write songs sober, though? I seem to write my best stuff when I’m flying a little high. Not like tonight. But at least my feet off the ground, you know?”
Caleb nodded that maybe it was so. “I’m sure if you embrace the visions, alcohol or LSD or pot and all that shit help just the same. But there’s a high to be had in turning it all down too.”
“Turn it down to get high? What do you mean?”
“I dunno. It’s kind of a trip itself being clear all the time.”
“Like a Scientologist or something?”
Caleb laughed. “I think that’s a different kind of clear. I’m talking about feeling everything because you’re sober.”
Sean nodded and downed the rest of his coffee. When he set his empty mug on the table, he leaned over and looked into it, as if by chance there might be something to be read there on the bottom.
“Well,” he said, still looking into that empty mug, “I might have to try giving it up for a while.”
“I thought you said the trouble was those snails.”
Sean grinned and looked up. “What the hell did you think I was talking about giving up?” he asked. “You didn’t believe I’d quit booze, did you?”
Caleb laughed and called for their check.
There was already a hint of gray in the sky when they left. There were no cars and no cabs, and it was a long walk back to the hotel. Even so, neither of them said much.
When they finally arrived at their room, Sean quickly showered and packed his bags, then called down to see about the shuttle. His flight was several hours earlier than Caleb’s, and he said the sooner he could get to the airport, the sooner he could board the plane and pass out, then wake up back home. He stood at the door with his bag, neither of them knowing how to say good-bye.
“I’ll just follow you down,” Caleb said.
“You don’t gotta do that, guy. Why don’t you rest?”
“It’s fine. I have a few minutes to wait before my morning call from Jane anyway. And besides, I need some toothpaste from the front desk.”
They rode the elevator down, crossed the lobby, and walked outside together. The hotel shuttle was already idling out front. Sean stopped before getting on and turned to Caleb.
“They had a big fancy driver with a sign and everything for me when I arrived. Now that I’m leaving, I gotta ride the short bus.” He sighed and looked past Caleb into the hotel. “You don’t need any toothpaste, do you?”
Caleb smiled and shook his head.
Sean nodded, as if he’d suspected not. “I’m not very good at good-byes.”
“Neither am I,” Caleb replied.
“You know, I’m okay with being sent home. Truth is, I never thought I’d get this far. But you deserve to go on, dude. You’re a hell of an artist and . . . you’re . . . well . . . ah, shit. I’m not any good at this. Fuck it all. Well, it’s been real, it’s been fun, but it hasn’t been real fun.”
He stuck out his hand to shake, but Caleb batted it aside and hugged him.
“I’m glad I got to know you, Sean,” he said, pulling away. “I wouldn’t have wanted to room with anyone else.”
Sean smiled and wiped a tear from his cheek with the heel of his hand. “I wouldn’t have wanted to room with anyone else either,” he said, nodding. “I’ll catch you on the TV, dude. And maybe when you’re famous, you’ll come and tour Iowa.” Then he picked up his bag and boarded the shuttle.
The door was closing when he wedged his hand in and opened it again so he could lean out. “Except Jordyn,” he said. “I would have rather roomed with Jordyn.”
Caleb watched Sean’s grin disappear as the door closed. He could see his shadow through the tinted windows as he walked to the back of the shuttle. He took a seat on the opposite side, maybe so they wouldn’t have to stretch out their good-bye. But Caleb stood and watched the bus drive away anyway. In fact, he stood for several minutes after, just watching where it had gone.
Chapter 13
Jane stood outside the flight gate exit waiting for him. She was so nervous that she hardly even noticed the odd glances from strangers as they passed her on their way to baggage claim. She knew she shouldn’t be nervous, that she and Caleb had spoken nearly every day since he’d been away, but she was nervous just the same.
A pilot paused to look at her. He smiled and said, “I might be a frog now, but I know if a woman as beautiful as you are were to kiss me, I’d change into a prince.”
Jane glanced down at the homemade glitter sign she had hanging around her neck—
PRINCE CHARMING
—and then she looked back up at the pilot and blushed.
“You’re certainly very charming,” she said, “but my prince is on his way.”
The pilot grinned and carried on with his bag, replying as he passed by, “And he’s a lucky prince at that.”
When she saw him coming, it was from a long way off.
Caleb was taller than she remembered him being, his head above most of the others walking toward her. He had his duffel slung over his shoulder and he was wearing a black T-shirt and torn blue jeans. His hair was a little longer than it had been when he had left, but she could clearly see the highlights they’d put there catching the sun coming in from the high terminal windows. And even though she couldn’t take her eyes off him, she didn’t miss the looks he got from every girl and woman he passed, and a few others he even got from men.
She knew he had seen her when a smile flashed on his face and he quickened his step. A moment later and his duffel was on the ground at his feet and she was in his arms, being turned around in the air. She buried her fingers in his hair and looked down at his upturned face. His smile seemed wider and whiter than ever against the several days’ worth of stubble around his gorgeous mouth, and his green eyes seemed to sparkle with a new intensity, a deeper happiness.
Perhaps, Jane thought, from having made the live show. Or maybe, she hoped, from having finally come home. She meant to ask, but then he set her feet on the ground again and kissed her.
His lips were softer than she remembered, even though his kiss was firm and filled with need, and his tongue tasted of coffee and of mint. He pulled his lips away, held her head between his hands, and looked into her eyes.
“Do you know how much I love you?”
“How much do you lo
ve me?” she asked.
“So much that I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I was worried maybe now that you’re famous and everything, you might have changed your mind about marrying a lowly old meter maid.”
“Famous? The first episode hasn’t even aired yet.”
Jane smiled. Then she brushed his T-shirt with her hand. “I got glitter all over you.”
Caleb looked down at her welcome sign. He laughed. “I’ll bet you’ve had a few takers while you were standing here with that sign.”
“I was going to write Singer-Songwriter Superstar on it but it wouldn’t all fit. Plus, I didn’t have enough glitter. Do you like it, though? After you told me about their driver with his sign, I didn’t want to let L.A. show me up.”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “It’s a great welcome home. It couldn’t possibly be better. Unless maybe you were naked, wearing nothing but the sign.”
“Then I might have had more than a few takers,” she said, laughing.
As they walked to baggage claim together to retrieve his guitar, Caleb handed her a small box.
“What’s this?”
“Just a little present.”
“You didn’t have to do that, babe.”
“Go on. Open it.”
Jane removed the paper and opened the box. Inside was a necklace. A beautiful handcrafted silver pipe whistle on a chain.
“You like it?”
“I love it.”
She draped it over her neck with the sign and looked down at it on her chest.
“I saw it and thought you might. And if you get in any trouble out there on the job, you can blow it. It’s pretty loud. Plus, all the proceeds go to help bring peace to the Congo.”
“It’s beautiful, Caleb. But you shouldn’t have.”
“It wasn’t that much,” he said. Then he smiled and added, “Besides, I used your credit card.”
Jane opened her eyes wide, pretending to be shocked.
“I’m only kidding. Let’s get my guitar and get home. I’ve got an image of you in my head that I’d like to make a reality.”
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