by Sarah Price
The previous day she had accompanied him to the two interviews. Everywhere they went, there were crowds of people. Not as many as at the airport, true. But girls and women screaming and yelling, some even crying, when he would get out of the limousine at their stops. He always took a moment to smile and wave at the gathered crowds, then reach down for Amanda’s hand as he helped her out. She kept her eyes lowered as she followed him, glad that he walked ahead of her. Twice, he had stopped and let a group of girls take his photo while Amanda waited nearby. Once, he had pulled her into the photo to the delight of the crowd.
The night before, he had left her alone in the hotel. He had to make his appearances, he explained, and the places where he was going were not places he wanted her to see. She hadn’t quite understood that but didn’t ask. She was tired and wanted to sleep. So she had merely nodded and accepted his instructions that she should be ready in the morning for breakfast at nine o’clock.
After breakfast, they had been driven over to the Staples Center. Alejandro had ignored the group of people who swarmed upon him, waving them away, as he showed her the stage and where she would sit later that evening. She had felt her heart race, and she shivered in awe of the fact that she was standing there, in Los Angeles, getting ready to watch Alejandro perform that evening.
“Who are all of those people?” she had asked.
“My tour manager, the stage manager, my publicity folks . . . you name it, they all are here,” he had said lightly. “And, for now, you will go with Carlos back to the dressing rooms. Lucinda has sent some more clothes for you with instructions of what to wear and when. I need to speak to mi gente for a while, sí?”
The afternoon had flown by with yet another interview and preparations for the evening concert. Now she saw that Alejandro was completing his transition into Viper. He disappeared into his private dressing room to get changed, and she was left in the hands of two of his security guards.
“One minute!”
Amanda turned and saw a woman rushing toward her, armed with an arsenal of brushes, intent on quickly checking Amanda’s hair and makeup. While Amanda started to back away, the woman was persistent. It had been a two-day battle with this woman, Beth. Amanda refused to wear her hair down, much to the dismay of the stylist. However, she had lost the battle with the makeup.
“Can’t have you looking tired and pale for the photos,” the woman had argued.
Alejandro had laughed at the standoff between Amanda and Beth, watching with amusement as he stood to the side. When Amanda looked at him, pleading, he merely had smiled in that mischievous way with which she was becoming all too familiar. “I think you are doing just fine, Princesa.”
Now, as she was getting ready to follow Mario and TJ, she turned to look at Alejandro one last time. To her surprise, he was standing in a circle with the members of his band and the stage crew. They were holding hands, heads bowed, and she knew that he was leading them in a prayer. She stopped walking and watched him, something fluttering inside her as she observed this most intimate and surprising moment. She hadn’t seen this side of Alejandro since their walk on the farm so many weeks ago when they had talked about his patron saint, Santa Barbara, and worshipping God. There was something magical about seeing him in prayer, engaging others in thanking God for his grace.
“Amanda, you are ready?”
She looked up at the tall man next to her. Mario was much taller than her and quite stern looking. She felt safe in his shadow. “I reckon so,” she answered softly and followed him as he led her down the corridor and toward a tall black curtain that blocked the activity behind the stage from the fans.
When Mario pulled back the curtain for her to pass through, she heard a noise. At first, it was subtle. Then it grew louder. It surprised her and she looked up, trying to identify what the noise was. She stood there, staring, and slowly realized that almost every seat in the stadium was occupied. The people were screaming and yelling. The roar that she heard had been the noise of the people. And those who sat in the seats near the side of the front stage were screaming and yelling for her.
As TJ and Mario guided her to her seat, in the fifth row by the stage, people took her picture and reached out to touch her arm or shoulder, trying to get her attention. She wasn’t used to being touched and tried to avoid them. Mario and TJ tightened their circle around her when they noticed her discomfort. Finally, she was able to sit and take a moment to digest what she was seeing.
All of this, she realized, was for Alejandro. When he had told her and her parents that he was a singer, an artist who traveled the world, she never would have imagined that it was like this. She was fascinated with the volume of people, with their apparent adoration for Alejandro, and all the noise. How could one man, one single man, create such fervor among so many people?
“Is it true?” Aaron asked her. “Did he really die for our sins?”
Amanda laughed at her younger brother. “Who?”
“Jesus!”
Ah, she thought. He had been paying attention at church service yesterday. She had watched him, sitting next to her father on the other side of the meeting room. He was squirming and wiggling around on the hard bench. Three hours was a long time for a ten-year-old boy to sit, especially when the sun was shining so brightly outside, beckoning him to come and play.
At the service yesterday, the bishop had been selected to preach. He had spent the majority of his sermon focusing on the power of Jesus, how he had died to save the world from sin. He was the Son of God, sacrificed by his own father in order to save the world. The lamb whose blood was shed in order to give hope to the world. Those who believed in Jesus could enter the gates of heaven and spend eternity with God and their loved ones.
“Yes, he did,” Amanda said. “And we have to be forever grateful for his sacrifice.”
“Why?”
She wasn’t certain how to answer that question. It was what she had been told for as long as she could remember. “Vell,” she started to explain. “Think about all that he gave up for us. He gave up his life, his privacy, his future. He gave up everything to teach us about how to have a relationship with God. And then, when asked, he gave up his life so that we could all live.”
It was easy to tell that Aaron didn’t understand. She wasn’t certain she understood either. But, deep down, she knew that something powerful had happened two thousand years ago when Jesus had walked the earth, preaching to the masses, performing his miracles, and giving all of himself for others.
When the concert was over, Mario and TJ quickly escorted Amanda through the crowd toward the curtains that led backstage. Her mind was reeling from what she had just watched. It was amazing and horrifying at the same time. The way in which the people adored him had shocked her. After all, the worship of idols was forbidden by the Commandments.
And it wasn’t just the people, she realized. It was the women. Both young girls and young women reached out to touch his hand as he performed and moved about the stage. Sometimes, he would reach down and quickly grasp their hands. Other times, he didn’t.
She noticed many of them held up signs. “Marry Me, Viper” and “I Want a Viper Bite” were typical phrases carefully written on the boards. Every once in a while, Alejandro would point at someone in the crowd and grin. That would cause the crowd in that area to scream even louder.
Yet, none of that affected her in the way Alejandro did. He had transformed into Viper, the singer and stage artist. He moved across the stage in a way that was almost catlike. She barely recognized him as her Alejandro. And as she listened to the girls screaming and crying, reaching out for his touch, she realized that, indeed, she was considering him as “hers.”
His music was beautiful, poetry set to music. Some of the words were shocking to her, telling stories of intimacy and physical attraction that brought the color to her cheeks. She was glad that no one could see her in the shadows
from the stage lights.
Now there was a flurry of activity behind the stage. People were moving quickly, packing up equipment, and tearing down the stage props. Amanda was escorted past the people and back toward the room where some more people were gathered. The band members were drinking beer, and there were several young women back there, dressed in high heels and short skirts. Amanda avoided them as she looked for Alejandro.
He wasn’t there yet.
She stood by herself, watching with fascination as the people laughed and talked. There was a high energy in the room, adrenaline that pulsated from each person. It was contagious; she, too, felt more alive than she ever had before in her life.
When he entered the room, he had showered and changed. He wore his beige pants and an open white shirt. People clapped him on the back and shook his hand. Several women hugged him. He took a moment to take a photo with the young women, who flushed at his attention. But then he left them and his eyes roamed the room, searching for someone. Searching for Amanda.
When their eyes met, he paused and waited as if gauging her reaction to what she had just experienced. He lowered his sunglasses, peering at her over the top, one eyebrow arched in an unspoken question as his blue eyes beseeched her.
She couldn’t respond. The memory of him, singing and performing onstage, still burned within her. She could still see the lights above the adoring fans, hear the music. Her breath escaped her and she could only stare at him, amazed at his beauty and grace. And then she smiled.
That was enough.
In four strides, he crossed the room and reached for her. The gesture startled her, but she didn’t mind as he pulled her into a tight embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, his lips brushing against her ear. “Did you like?”
It was all that she could do to nod her head. The feelings that had built up inside her made it difficult to find the words to express what she had just experienced.
He pulled back, his hands on both of her shoulders, and he stared into her face. “Is that a yes, Princesa?”
She flushed, her cheeks turning crimson, and she lowered her eyes. She was afraid that he would be able to see inside her soul if she didn’t look away, as the emotions that had just flooded through her were too strong and unexplainable for her to even understand.
For in that moment, she knew that she could never return to the farm in Lancaster County. She knew that she only wanted to be with Alejandro. She knew that she loved him.
Chapter Seven
When she awoke, she found herself lying on a bed in the back of the tour bus. It took her a minute to place herself, to remember where she was. The tour bus, she reminded herself. Not at home in Pennsylvania. Not at the farm. She sat up and lifted her hand to her head. No, not at the farm. In fact, she imagined she was as far away from the farm as was possible.
The previous evening, they had left Los Angeles around midnight and driven straight through to San Francisco for the concert that evening. It had taken a while for the energy to die down after the show in Los Angeles. People lingered, laughing and talking as they drank Corona beers and ate pizza.
Even though it was late, Amanda had found herself wide-awake, her mind still alive after having watched Alejandro perform. Her ears rang from the loud music and the screaming fans. Her heart was still pounding at the realization of how she had truly felt. But, even more so, she was in awe of this amazing man. He was so comfortable, mingling amid the lingering crowd, keeping her within arm’s length and always checking to make certain she was all right. It was a whisper in her ear or a caress on her arm. His attention heightened her senses, and she began to relax as she watched him move through the people.
Mario was the one who walked up to Alejandro and said something to him that Amanda couldn’t understand. With a simple nod, Alejandro turned to her and smiled. There was weariness about him, the energy suddenly depleted. “It’s time, Princesa,” he said. “We are to leave now.”
“Leave?”
He had taken her hand and started following Mario out of the room. “The bus is waiting and security has the exit ready for us.” He paused to say good night to a few people; then, with a final wave at the crowd in the room, he led her into the hallway and down the corridor.
A large gold-and-black bus was on a ramp that led out from under the stadium. It was unlike any bus that she had ever seen. The inside wasn’t just seats. Instead, it was like a small house with a sitting area, two leather sofas, and a large flat-screen television. He walked past the sofas and through a narrow opening, which, to her surprise, was a bedroom. He took off his jacket and tossed it on the back of a chair.
“I’m exhausted,” he had said, sitting down on the bed.
Uncertain where to go, she had stood in the doorway and watched him. He still wore his dark sunglasses and reached to take them off. He set them on the small table next to the bed. He looked tired and rubbed at his eyes. “Ay, mi madre,” he mumbled. “Exhausted.”
Crossing her arms across her chest, she smiled. “I can’t imagine why.”
He looked at her, surprised by her teasing tone. “Is that sarcasm I detect?” Yet, he understood and smiled, a tired smile. When he had stared at her, his blue eyes sparkled, despite his weariness. Tilting his head to one side, he pursed his lips as if contemplating something. “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.
A look of panic crossed her face. “Alejandro, I . . . I can’t . . .”
He chuckled. “Ven aquí, Princesa. Come here,” he repeated. “I told you that you have nothing to fear from me. But there is nothing wrong with my wanting to hold you. I’m tired, and I want to sleep.” His eyelids drooped as he stared at her. “And I want you in my arms,” he said, his voice low and husky. “I promise you that is all.” He motioned with his hand, indicating that she should take it in hers. “Come,” he commanded again in a soft voice.
She bit her lower lip, uncomfortable with his request. His hand was in the air, waiting for her to take it. The look on his face was bewitching, and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. As if mesmerized, and with just a slight hesitation, she took a step into the room and reached for his hand.
To her surprise, he had grabbed it and pulled her onto the bed. Laughing as she cried out, he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her body under his as he nuzzled his lips against her neck. He ignored the look of panic on her face as he gently kissed her skin. “You have seen it all, Amanda. This is my life,” he murmured. “And you are doing fantastic. I know it must be hard for you.”
She wished she could tell him that the hardest part was how it wasn’t half as difficult to adapt as she had thought it would be. “Alejandro,” she said and squirmed in his arms. He was stronger than she was: escape was impossible. “This . . . this isn’t right . . .”
He leaned back, his body hovering over hers, and stared into her face. His eyes flickered back and forth as he took in her every feature. “You are most beautiful, Amanda,” he said and leaned down, slowly and gently, to brush his lips against hers. “And there is nothing wrong with this. A kiss. I told you before that you have nothing to fear from me.”
He loosened his hold on her but didn’t let her break free from his grip. Indeed, he kept her curled against his body as he sprawled out across the bed. “Just this,” he whispered. “This is what I want.” He sighed, his breath caressing her ear. “It’s nice to have someone waiting for me, Amanda. Someone who wants nothing from me . . . for once.”
She began to relax, the tenseness of her body easing as she realized that, indeed, all Alejandro expected of her was to be herself and to let him be himself. As his breathing slowed, she listened to the gentle sound of sleep fall over him. And he slept, deeply, with his arms protectively wrapped around her, his chin resting atop her head.
It had taken her a while to feel comfortable, wondering how this would rate on the scale of sins according to the O
rdnung. But she also knew that many Amish communities still practiced bundling, the young couple spending the night together with a board separating them. It was a way for couples to get to know each other and, she reasoned, was not so different from this.
So it surprised her when she awoke to find herself under the sheets, her shoes on the floor by the door. She was alone. There was no sign of Alejandro. From the stillness surrounding her, she could tell that the bus was no longer moving.
With bare feet, she padded into the sitting area. She passed by a mirrored cabinet and glanced at her reflection. It was shocking to see herself. There were dark smudges under her eyes, and her hair was falling loose from the bun. She quickly hurried to the sink and did the best she could with washing away the day-old makeup and fixing her hair.
As she finished, she heard the door to the bus open. Turning toward the front of the bus, she heard his footsteps before she saw him. He greeted her with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. “You are up! ¡Bueno!” he said cheerfully. He was wearing freshly laundered tan pants with crisp pleats down the front and a white shirt that was unbuttoned at the throat and neck. His sleeves were rolled up, and he looked relaxed.
“Where are we?” she asked, taking the cup of coffee that he handed to her.
“San Francisco, Princesa!” He sat down on the sofa, spreading his arms out along the back. “They have already started setting up the equipment. It arrived just thirty minutes ago.”
“What time is it?”
“Seven thirty,” he said, glancing at his phone. “And I must go do a radio interview. A car is picking me up in ten minutes. I thought you might like to come along,” he said.