Getting in Tune
Page 28
The applause peaked. I looked sideways at the guys and nodded. In unison, we bowed, again just like the Who. As my head came up, I saw the little group standing at the foot of the stage. Rita, Evangeline, Beanie, and Cecil. And in my mind’s eye, with her chin tucked, her brown eyes holding me, was Nita. But only in my mind’s eye. She wasn’t really there, but she was. And finally I knew it was safe to listen to my heart.
Unexpectedly, a sob grew in my chest, building up inside until it hurt. I couldn’t hold it back, a half-cry, half-laugh.
Rob glanced at me. “You O.K., man?”
I gasped and nodded at him.
Mick nudged me and pointed out into the crowd. “Hey, Pleasant! Look at all the yobs! Were bleedin’ stars, mate!”
I nodded again, but I saw only Nita’s face. I saw it as clearly as I could see where the music would take us, together. There she was, ghostly but true. She smiled, and it looked as if she mouthed something. I knew what it was. I heard her voice, soft and steady, inside my head: Transcendence, Daniel.
I smiled.
Finally, finally, we were unified. And, in that moment, it was perfect. Absolutely bloody perfect. And from far away, I heard the beauty of the Universal Chord, the combination of notes uniting us all, rippling toward me, coming closer, enveloping me, piercing my ears, swirling inside my head. Pete Townshend heard it. Everybody in the auditorium heard it. I knew it, because they were me and I was them. We were all one, perfect notes in a perfect chord of harmony.
It was an awesome sound.
But could I hold on to it this time, or would it, as always, simply fade away?
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, heartfelt gratitude is due Jim Merk, who volunteered hours of his personal time to edit several earlier versions of this novel. In addition to his friendship, I thank him for his unerring eye, patience, and unwavering kindness. Several others provided comments on drafts of the manuscript, and to them I owe thanks for their observations, criticisms, suggestions, and encouragement. These readers included Christy Corzine, Nick Dennis, Cindy Erickson, Kathy Humphrey, Lisa Rea, and Greg Trott. Thanks also to my longtime buddy Jim Freeman (author of Parade of Days and others), who helped in so many ways.
I would be remiss if I did not gratefully acknowledge the inspiration, friendship, and great memories provided by all those who allowed me to play music with them over the years, including the guys who took those first crazy road trips with me. I also thank my good fortune in finding Robert Dunn, publisher of Coral Press, who believes in the synergistic power of rock ‘n’ roll and good fiction. Much thanks also to Linda Root, whose cover design perfectly captures the attitude and flavor of this book.
And finally, everlasting thanks to Pete Townshend and the Who, whose music touched my soul and kept me alive during the darkest days of my youth. No one should ever doubt the redemptive power of music, especially in the lives of those young enough to recognize it.
Roger L. Trott was born and raised in the Sacramento Valley town of Lincoln, Calif., and spent his high school and early college years in Redding, Calif. He studied English, journalism, and economics at Shasta Community College, Sonoma State University, and the University of California, Davis. He is a former rock music critic who has played bass and guitar in bands throughout Northern California. Roger continues to live in Northern California with his wife, Lisa Rea, their dog, Bobbie, and Roger’s four guitars and three amplifiers. He is currently working on a second novel of musical fiction and continues to write songs and play music whenever and wherever he can.
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