“Yes.” I managed to answer.
“Truly would be so annoyed with me if I got his lead singer dressed and ready to go on stage, then said something that made the lyrics stick in her throat. If you want to keep peace in the family, you’ll sing.”
“Otherwise, Steve will be getting me out of bed at midnight for another family conference.”
“You see how it works now.”
Truly appeared from under the stage, dirt on his face, hands and jeans. He was annoyed. “The wiring is antique. Substandard. There aren’t enough power outlets.”
“Oh.”
“Did they think this was going to be a bongo concert?”
I laughed.
There was the sharp crackle of electricity from the stage as an amplifier shorted out and three guys in red plaid shirts started swearing.
“It’s not our amp.” Truly glanced at me. “You look good. Try to sound as good, okay? You’re not an ornament.” He caught the heavy extension cord thrown his way from the main building and turned to plug something in.
“Just try to keep up with me, smart guy,” I replied.
Tru didn’t have to reply for me to get his response in the tilt of his head and shift of his shoulders.
Emily leaned over to my ear. “He didn’t mean it.”
I turned to her.
“He did, but don’t take it personally.”
I knew what he was doing.
Chapter 20
Since it was the end of October, dark came early. The temperature was dropping so instead of eating at one of the many tables set up outside, we had the opportunity to eat the meal Emily had packed for us in a meeting room of the largest building. Truly never ate before a performance so he stayed for a few minutes then left to help the other band finish setting up.
Quinn and Sonny sat with us, eating the food but Quinn didn’t have much to say. I thought he was probably still putout at the new direction the band was taking and wondered if he would wind up staying. Sonny didn’t seem to care particularly one way or the other. His father had a farm further north on the river and this was the third year in a row the spring floods had delayed planting, forcing him to get a job driving a lumbering truck. The music was just something to do in his spare time between planting and harvesting and driving.
Soon Quinn and Sonny picked up their things and went outside. A few minutes later, The Woodhicks with their bass fiddle, a banjo and a guitar, began performing old-time music. It was upbeat, energized and the crowd began to gather around the bandstand.
We went to the doorway where we had a good view of the area but still could be warm and listened to songs about lumberjacks, the mountains, and the waterways. I could see Truly over to one side of the stage, tuning the guitar, then tuning the fiddle as he talked to someone.
Emily put her arm around me. “Are you happy?”
“Very.” It was a surprise to me that I could say that without thinking.
“So am I.”
After a set of a dozen songs, The Woodhicks finished and were brought back for an encore.
Snaking my way through the growing crowd to get to the stage, I finally reached Truly.
“Are you ready for this?”
“Yes.”
He handed me his violin for the first song. We would be switching back and forth throughout the performance. Truly bounded up the steps to work on the microphones and I was left on my own. I stepped closer to the stage and was faced by steps far steeper than I expected and no railing. A moment later, with Sonny on one side and Quinn on the other, they lifted me up between them, onto the stage with no one able to tell there was a problem.
“Thanks, I’ll do the same for you sometime,” I joked.
“Stay back from the edge,” Sonny warned with a grin.
We positioned ourselves by our microphones and waited for the signal from Tru. I could see the change in him, there was an animation beyond what was usual. He really did love this and belonged here.
Me? I thought, as I raised my bow, I could take it or leave it.
We played the song, Small Blessings, with Tru singing lead, and finished to applause. Truly stepped up to the microphone and introduced each of us giving my name as Neal Lambert. He was wonderful, ad-libbing, encouraging audience participation, making jokes. They loved him.
It was his band, it would always be his band. I would always be the girl singer who did what was asked of her. I thought it was the perfect arrangement and as we both stepped up to the mikes for the second song, he looked over to check on me and I smiled back at him. I nearly laughed to see that Tru hadn’t expected that.
Our third song was Whispering Pines, and we had to switch instruments.
“I don’t have to ask how you’re doing,” he said, handing me his guitar.
“Even if I wanted to take a runner, I couldn’t get off the stage,” I whispered back.
Stepping back to the mike, I didn’t have to remember anything he had told me about performing or singing, we had rehearsed so much that it was all second nature to me.
The enthusiastic applause surprised me as we finished the song. True to form, I expected nothing from the night. Positive feedback was not a regular event in my life up to this point so I thought there would be some grudging response because it was required. Rotten tomatoes were four weeks past being available, so I didn’t have to worry about ducking due to flying vegetables. But this reaction was very nice. I could get used to it.
After another two songs, there was the break for me, so I moved to the side of the stage where a chair had been left and I could watch Truly perform. I could hardly believe how charismatic he was and felt proud of his accomplishments. He worked so hard to be this good.
I felt a tap on my leg.
“Neal?”
I looked down. It was Shannon standing on the ground looking up at me.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, completely baffled.
I leaned down to speak to her. “Don’t tell. Please don’t say a word.”
“Of course not.”
Her face was bruised. Her eye had been black, now it was shades of yellow, green and purple even though she had tried to cover it with makeup.
“Who did that to you? Dustin?”
“No. Never Dustin.”
“Did Joe do that?”
She bit her lip.
“Why.”
“He was drunk. I didn’t give him the answers he wanted.”
“Go to the stairs and help me down.” I stood up, walked to the edge of the stage and waited for her to come up to me. Then leaning against her, I got down to the ground.
“It’s okay. It’s not forever.”
“It’s not okay,” I told her sharply. “You have to tell the police. It’s battery. You’re not his punching bag.”
I tried to see through the crowd and find Emily.
“Are you crazy? I can’t tell the police. That’s what’s got him going. They’ve been down to Paul’s and talking to everyone.”
“Did they talk to Joe?”
“Sure. He said he was in New Orleans. They can’t prove otherwise, according to him. He has witnesses that will testify to his presence in Louisiana.”
“Nathan.”
“Yeah, that was the guy. How’d you know that?”
A moment later, Emily rushed up to us. “Neal, are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Let me introduce Shannon Kent to you.”
Emily took one look at her and knew. “We have to tell Steve.”
“Who’s Steve?”
“He’s a state trooper.”
“No way. That’s like a death warrant.”
“Let’s go in the building where we can have a little bit of privacy,” Emily said and took Shannon’s arm.
Truly was finishing the last song in my break and was looking at me. I held up five fingers and pointed at him. He turned to Sonny and Quinn must have told them the set was changing.
I followed Emily and Shannon into the building.
“You can’t go back there,” Emily said.
“I can’t not go back. You don’t understand.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Listen to her, Shannon,” I said. “We can find someplace safe for you, can’t we, Emily?”
“Of course. We’ll get a restraining order.”
“Like that’ll work,” I said. The system was as dysfunctional as the Kent family. She needed a 24-hour guard and the state wouldn’t provide that. “Take your savings and go to your friend in Florida.”
“Jewels?”
“Yeah, her. Do you have enough money? I’ll give you everything I have, everything I make tonight. Don’t go home, don’t ever go back.”
“What about Dustin?” Shannon was starting to cry.
“He’s going into the Marines, you’ll meet up with him at Camp LeJeune after basic training.”
Emily stopped for a moment to listen to the band. “I’ll take care of this. Go finish the show or Truly will be calling a family conference at midnight.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Emily nodded as she pulled out a package of tissues from her saddlebag purse.
I grabbed Shannon’s arm. “Do not go back for any reason.”
“What about Mom?”
I wanted to slap some sense into her. “Mom isn’t going to protect you now when she never did before. Save your life or you’ll wind up with the kittens.”
She just cried harder as Emily started to maneuver her toward the exit.
I went back to the stage and was faced by the steps with twice the rise of normal stairs. A mic stand. That would help. I looked around then was confronted by Truly bounding to the ground.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s a small crisis now under control.”
“Are you going to sing?”
“If I can get up there.”
He put his arm around my waist and a moment later I was placed at my mic. We did three songs, and I felt the dread building. The final song was the one he was so convinced was so perfect for me, but felt like a thousand cuts every time I sang it.
As we finished The Farther You Go, the audience broke into wild applause. I looked at them like they had gone crazy. What was this about?
Truly stepped closer to me. “Can you do the encore?”
It was a silly song Tru did intending to end the night on an upbeat. It went “I like your maw, I like your paw, and I like you but I really love your sister, Sue.” All I did was play the fiddle, which was good because I doubted I could do any more.
“Then can we go home?”
He nodded.
Chapter 21
Breaking down the equipment took less time than setting up. Sonny and Quinn left with smiles on their faces then Tru helped me into his truck.
“Where’s my mother?”
“She took Shannon away.”
“Was that the crisis?”
“Joe beat her up.”
We drove for a while in silence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do all my songs, it won’t happen again.”
“I’m not your boss; you don’t work for me. You’re not punching a timecard. You don’t have to apologize.”
I sighed.
“A little penitence is okay,” he laughed. “Sonny and Quinn had a moment of panic when we had to go back to the old set.”
“I’ll do better next time.”
“You won’t do better.”
“I didn’t forget the lyrics.”
“You were perfect. The owner of Enchanted Gardens Canoe Rental asked us to come back for the Christmas Festival.”
“No kidding.”
“We have to do Christmas music.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“We’ll think about it.”
He turned the truck into the Lambert driveway and there weren’t any other vehicles in the yard so no one else was home. That didn’t seem like a good sign to me.
We removed our instruments from the way-back and put them in the house.
“Is it too cold out here for you,” he asked looking up at the clear night sky.
“Maybe a little.”
He went into the mudroom, brought back Steve’s wool hunting coat and helped me into it. We walked around the house to the front porch and Truly sat on the Adirondack style glider.
“Sit.”
I looked at the chair.
“Next to me, Neal.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you prepping me for some bad news?”
“What kind of bad news could I have when you already saw Shannon black and blue?”
“I’m used to living in a state of perpetual dread. The expectation of something awful happening is always present.”
“What would be awful for you tonight?”
The glider creaked back and forth, as the springs made their metallic chirp.
“Waiting.”
“The bad things are nameless and formless. You’re always blindsided by them. You never know what they’re going to be.”
“Not here.”
I’d been thinking about this all evening. “Do you think I should go away with Shannon until your father takes care of Joe?”
“No.”
“Not permanently.”
“Still no. You believe he did kill Paul.”
“Yeah, but I don’t know the reason.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Okay, but I don’t want to think about it.”
“Why would you want to leave?”
“Joe’s the kind of person who wouldn’t let anyone get in the way if he wanted something.”
We went back and forth in silence.
“I don’t want anything to happen to any of you because of me,” I admitted.
“You can’t protect yourself on your own.”
“Can’t let him find me, no...” I sang.
“I think we should add that cover,” Truly said. “Let’s talk about the concert.”
“What did I do wrong?”
“For the audience, you didn’t sing enough songs.”
“For you?”
He didn’t say anything.
“My feelings won’t be hurt, if you give me less to do for a while. I’m happy to sing. I sang for myself and that was great. I can sing backup. I can hum. I could just play the fiddle.”
“I thought we were equal partners.”
“Really?”
“It’s not the same band without you.”
“It’s not a band without you,” I pointed out very accurately.
“It’s not about who sings lead, who sings more, who does what. We don’t have the right material.”
“Tru, it’s all happened so fast. You’ve been changing direction every other day trying to get it right. It’ll happen. Let it reveal itself.”
He turned his head toward me.
“Or not. I can’t tell you how to run your band. I’ll try to keep up with you.”
Headlights illuminated the bottom of the driveway and soon Emily’s truck was visible. It bumped up to her parking spot and stopped. We reached the truck just as she was getting out.
“What are you two doing out here at this time of night?”
“Talking about the show,” I said.
“Don’t nitpick, Truly,” Emily told him.
“He wasn’t,” I replied. “Where’s Shannon?”
“At a motel where she’s safe. Steve spoke to her.”
We followed her to the kitchen door.
“Time for us to call it a day,” she suggested to Tru.
“Okay. Goodnight, Mom. Neal.”
***
I showered and got into bed. I was worried about how Emily seemed after being with Shannon. She seemed...well, she seemed exactly like I would expect anyone meeting the Kents for the first time would feel. Appalled.
Even the book that tempted me from the nightstand, couldn’t persuade me to sit up and read. I turned off the lig
ht. A few minutes later, just as I was drifting off to sleep, the phone rang.
“Neal.”
“Tru.”
I fell asleep holding his phone next to my ear.
Chapter 22
The next morning Emily had to run to town on some errands and suggested I go along so we could visit with Shannon to make plans. Wearing jeans and one of Emily’s old jackets, I waved to Tru who was already at the piano and didn’t notice we were leaving.
We stopped at a farm market outside of town to pick up some pumpkins, gourds and two bushels of apples, windfalls for the horses and good ones for people.
It made me think of Maude back at the cider mill pressing apples by herself. When asked about the hard work, she always said she had nothing else to do. She liked carrying on the tradition and I regretted not being able to help but Shannon’s intersection with Joe’s anger proved it wasn’t safe there.
We stopped at the feed store and the grocery store, then swung by the motel, a picture postcard of rustic bungalows by Kanah Creek. It should do a good business this time of year, renting cabins to hunters up from the city who wanted to tramp through the woods in the frosty pre-dawn, making so much noise all the animals made a beeline in the opposite direction.
There were only a few SUVs parked and Emily stopped her truck in front of the cabin she told me was Shannon’s. We carried a bag of groceries and toiletries to the door and Shannon opened it very glad to see us. After talking for a half hour or so, Emily said we would leave but Steve would stop in to check on her later. If she needed anything she should call us not anyone else.
I could tell she had already called Dustin and hoped she hadn’t told him where she was. I hoped she was smarter than that.
When Emily and I got into the truck, she started the engine and began backing out of the space. “Who do you think she told?”
“Dustin.”
“I hope.”
I hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to tell anyone.
“Will you help me make a couple pumpkin pies this afternoon,” Emily asked as we arrived back home.
“Sure.”
Emily went to check on the horses and I went to the house. The moment I stepped inside, I could hear Truly at the piano. Whatever he was playing, it was something I had never heard before, and it stopped me in my tracks. Then I carefully walked to the living room, not wanting to make a noise to disturb him until he finished.
Bad Apple 1: Sweet Cider Page 11