Chapter 8
That afternoon, Anne and I are walking down the outdoor Memphis venue that sits on the Mississippi River, and Ford catches sight of us. “Girls!” He waves us over to the soundboard where he opens a large crate full of used cables. “Your job for the day.”
He picks up a cable and shows us where the wiring inside is exposed, before tearing a piece of electrical tape and wrapping it. “Think you can do that?”
“Uh, yeah,” Anne deadpans.
Ford walks off and she turns to me. “Does he think we’re idiots?”
“I don’t mind.” I settle on the concrete slab and start in.
She puts her earbuds in and does the same.
The next few hours go by, Ford doing his stuff at the soundboard, the other bands coming on and off stage for practice, and Anne and I wrapping wires. I like the monotonous work. It keeps my brain focused and off of everything else.
“Guys are here,” Ford informs us, but Anne is rocking to her music and doesn’t hear.
West and Simon chat as they walk on stage to take their spots with the rest of Bus Stop.
Ford picks up a microphone, his voice echoing through the amphitheater. “All right boys, let’s get started. Check on mike one.”
West steps up to mike one. “Check.”
Stretching his fingers across the board, Ford positions them on the sliding knobs and makes a few adjustments. “Check on mike two.”
The keyboard player pulls his mike down. “Check.”
Ford continues through the rest of the checks and then begins on the instruments, asking them to play specific chords and give feedback on the volume of the onstage monitors.
“This is the EQ rack,” he tells me, probably because he sees me watching him. “I’m boosting the bass.” He turns a knob. “Now I’m lowering the high end. Hear that reverb from the right side of the house?”
I listen to the echo and nod.
He makes adjustments. “Now it’s gone.”
“That’s really cool.”
“It is.” Ford slides a bar down. “Even more exhilarating during a live show.”
I go back to wrapping wires, and my heart nervously picks up pace as I remember West’s encouraging words.
But before I have a chance to ask Ford about being his assistant, he opens the gate that leads from the tech box. “Be back in a sec.”
I finish the cable I’m working on and start the next one, still eyeing the soundboard.
Anne takes her earbuds out as she waggles her brows. “Did you see West is here?”
“Eve!” Ford yells. “Bring me that silver hard case under the board.”
Grabbing the case, I carry it down the aisle and up onto the stage. Ford takes it from me and opens it up. “This is Eve everybody. She’s new crew.”
I spare the guys a quick glance. West, Simon, Toby, the drummer, and Levi, keyboards.
With his ever present fedora, West steps forward to shake my hand as if we haven’t already met.
He gives my curious look an amused one, a corner of his mouth twitching as he looks at the Tom chasing Jerry across the front of my tee.
Though no one else probably recognizes it, he holds my hand just a second too long until I finally slip my fingers from his grasp.
“It’s roast beef girl!” Simon jokingly recognizes me.
“Roast beef girl?” Ford asks.
“I served them sandwiches at that VIP thing in Nashville.”
West says, “Also, Blue Eyes and I went for a run this morning.”
Ford lifts his brows as if to say Blue Eyes?
“Will there be anything else?” I ask, trying to get the focus off of me.
“Don’t be so serious.” West gives me a playful punch in the shoulder, and I catch myself in a flinch that has him taking a quick step back. “Sorry.”
“My bad.” I’m sure no girl has ever actually flinched from his touch before.
I make a beeline back to the soundboard where I resume my work, and though I don’t want them to, my thoughts drift. Brynn’s email curls through my brain again, and I automatically survey the venue for anything odd.
Soundcheck continues, and I purposefully focus on Ford’s area to get my mind in the here and now. He slides channel bars and adjusts controls.
Bus Stop transitions into one of my favorite songs that they perform, and I mouth the words. They’ve got this pop rock/country rock/alternative sound that is so unique to all of their songs.
“Great ting on that one,” Ford says. “Little lower on the bass…left side’s off…now that’s some great range.”
The song ends. Ford slides all the channels down before turning to look at me. “Do you realize you stared at me the entire time they were practicing?”
I cringe. “Sorry. It’s just…”
“Just?”
“Everything you’re doing. It’s fascinating.”
“Oh, yeah? What exactly appeals to you?”
I take a second, wanting to answer this right.
“Well, first it’s the music. Nothing can help me disappear like music.
But then it’s also taking all this raw material and creating something new with it that I love and hope others will as well.
I scrunch up my nose, hoping he doesn’t think the disappearing comment is odd. “Does any of that make sense?”
“Yes, Eve. It all makes perfect sense. How about college? Any plans on officially studying it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sound Engineering. There are a lot of great programs I can recommend.”
College? I’ve never even thought about college. Heck, I haven’t even graduated high school. “I don’t think so. But I’d love to learn from you. If…if that’s okay.”
“Not making any promises here, but why don’t we just say, any time you’re done with your work, you can come and learn a few things. Sound good?”
A burst of excitement dances through me. “Really?”
“Now don’t get too excited. Just how to open a mike, balance the bass, EQ a song.”
I nod. I can’t think of anything better.
The sound of a giggle has me looking back toward the stage to see a gorgeous, glamorous girl standing like an inch from West. He’s flirting right back, having no problem with her nearness. I recognize her. She was at the club that first night I met West.
Ford picks up the house mike again. “Okay, guys. Last set, and then we’re done.”
The girl slowly steps away, shooting West a little fingery wave.
He waves right back before slipping his guitar strap on and turning toward me and Ford.
Quickly, I pick up a cable and overly concentrate on it as I wrap it with tape, and the more I concentrate the more I relax with relief.
This is good actually. What I just saw. There’s nothing special about the flirting he does with me.
He’s just doing what he does to every girl.
Yes, there’s nothing special about me.
Friends. That’s what I’ll insist on with West. He probably doesn’t know how to be friends with a girl. For that matter, I don’t know how to be friends with a boy. This will be new for both of us. Plus, other than Anne and Brynn, I don’t have any friends. I could use another.
With the new resolve, though, I can’t help but wonder what it will be like to someday have someone who makes me lightheaded and happy. Someone who makes me feel loved.
The thought has me smiling. Despite my crap life, I never thought I’d actually be thinking in such a normal way.