Chapter 12
It’s about a week into the tour, and Gene’s been having fun, for the most part.
They’ve played three shows so far: two in Detroit at the Olympia Stadium and one in Flint at the IMA Auditorium.
Currently they’re on the road to their fourth, heading north to Traverse City to play at the Glacier Dome.
Their tour route will take them north first, over the Mackinac Bridge into the U.P.
, then west into Wisconsin, doing a big circle through Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio, until they arrive back in Michigan again.
So far their shows have had wonderful crowds, riling Gene up to play his best. He can’t even describe the excitement he feels when performing on stage with Ray.
All eyes on them, fans cheering for them, even singing along to some of their own original songs.
But there has been one thing that’s made their tour a bit awkward—or maybe Gene should say, one person.
A girl named Carol Knight has decided to tag along with the Dusty Brooms, following Gene around like a lost puppy.
She’s actually sitting next to him on the bus now, Gene having the aisle seat while Carol is at the window, looking out at the miles and miles of woods passing them by.
He’s learned she’s from Detroit and nineteen years old—thankfully, because the last thing he wants to deal with is bringing a minor along on the tour—but she wasn’t sure of what she wanted to do in life, feeling the need to go with the flow and follow the music to find her place.
She’d been to plenty of shows and had seen the Dusty Brooms a few times; notably once was the time they opened for the Rolling Stones.
When the Brooms were leaving Detroit that Monday after their second show, Carol had stepped onto the bus to travel with them as if she belonged there.
Gene didn’t object, as he liked her well enough, and Dennis didn’t have a problem with her either.
Dennis made sure to accommodate their plans in case of groupies or hangers-on joining them anyway, as he had told the Brooms such things were unavoidable during a tour.
Even if you kick someone off, another person’s likely to join on the next stop.
Much easier to just be friendly and make good connections than be harsh and demanding, he’d said.
They’re already making more than enough money with how successful sales have been, and the motel rooms are being paid for by RCA, so it’s not like that’s an issue, either.
But regardless, Carol hasn’t been merely a freeloader.
She’s actually volunteered to do all the band’s laundry for them, and has been constantly checking in with them all if they’ve eaten, wanting to take care of them. She’s been rather nice, Gene can say.
However, as nice as Carol’s been, what’s actually been rather irksome is how Ray’s been acting around her.
Honestly, it shouldn’t bother Gene—it’s not like he hasn’t seen Ray this same way with other chicks before.
He’s not dating Harriet anymore either, so he’s free to do whatever without it being considered ‘cheating’.
That’s a plus. But every time Ray flirts with any girl gets on Gene’s nerves, for some reason.
Even more so with Carol, since he’s been rather obvious and in-your-face about it.
Though Carol doesn’t even seem too interested in Ray, moreso with Gene himself, ignoring Ray’s advances and only spurring him on harder.
Gene doesn’t really know what to think of it.
While he likes Carol, thinks she’s beautiful and friendly…
he hasn’t felt any pull toward her. Not like the way Ray’s been pursuing her, that’s for sure.
Gene hasn’t slept with her, or even kissed her at all.
He’s also pretty sure he’s still not ready for a steady girlfriend.
Honestly, this whole situation has been giving him a headache, and the only thing that relieves him is not thinking about Carol at all.
He’s much better off playing with the Brooms on stage, practicing with them, playing guitar and singing with Ray, and finding any time alone with him to write new songs…
“Hey, Gene.”
Gene looks up, finding Ray standing next to him with his hand on the back of Gene’s seat. “Oh hey, what’s up?”
“I thought of a line for that song we were working on last night. I’ve already written it down but I thought it was so good, I had to tell you right away,” Ray says, holding his pocket-sized lyrics notebook.
“Sure, give it to me.”
“Okay. ‘My mind’s in the mixer, blended up. Then you take a drink, my essence in a cup.’ What do you think?”
Gene chuckles at the metaphor. “I like it. Maybe the word ‘essence’ might sound a little strange though, I don’t know.”
“You got any better ideas?”
“Um… actually, no.” Gene shrugs with a smile. “‘Essence’ could probably work. Would need to hear it sung to the melody, though.”
“If you think of something better, just let me know,” Ray says. He then looks up, “How’ve you been, Carol?”
Gene’s nerves tense. An uncomfortable lump rises in his throat. Carol glances at Ray, then back out the window. “Oh, I’ve been fine. This tour’s been pretty fun so far.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Ray looks back at Gene, making eye contact. “Let’s work on that song some more later, whenever you’re free.”
The lump in his throat dissolves, his system returning to normal. “For sure. In the meantime I’ll try singing those lyrics in my head. Get a melody down.”
“That’s the spirit.” Ray gives Gene a smile meant only for him. He’s never seen Ray smile at anyone else like that, not even Carol.
Gene gives him the same smile back. Then Ray walks down the aisle, going back to sitting and chatting with Santiago, who’s taking home movies with his small video camera. An intrusive thought, one he can’t stop, runs through Gene’s head—
If Carol weren’t here, maybe he’d sit with me instead.
After the wonderful show at the Glacier Dome, the Dusty Brooms retreat to their rooms at the local Holiday Inn.
It’s situated right on the Grand Traverse Bay, giving them a gorgeous view of the water.
However, it’s not a swimming beach—meant only as a marina.
But it’s not like they can swim anyway, despite there being an outdoor pool connected to the inn, being so damn cold this time of year.
Gene hopes that their next tour is more during the warmer months, or at the very least, they find hotels with indoor pools.
That’s not to say they can’t party at all.
There’s a bar inside the inn next to the lobby: the perfect spot.
Gene grabs a drink—a whiskey sour—and sits down at a table with Ray.
Wood-paneled walls and dim overhead lights set the mood.
Cigarette smoke floats through the air. They both watch how Santiago hits up a pretty girl that somehow made it back with them to the hotel from the venue, and Stefan, too—having two girls surrounding him.
Carol isn’t with them at the moment, but she’ll be back soon, as she’d told Gene she wanted to change her shoes in the room, her feet feeling uncomfortable in heels.
It still surprises Gene how she basically left everything to come with them—her only belongings being a large backpack with some clothes, shoes, and make-up, in addition to her wallet.
To trust your well-being on strangers who barely know who you are.
Gene takes a sip from his drink, then chases it with a drag from his cigarette. He looks over to Ray, giving him a smile. “You enjoying yourself?”
“Yeah. I think it’s pretty entertaining to watch Stefan. How does he have so much charm, when he barely talks? Is that what girls like? Do you think I talk too much, Gene?”
That gets Gene to chuckle. “No. I love hearing you talk. You could talk to me all day and I’d never get bored.”
“Don’t I already do that?” Ray chuckles back.
“I guess so. But I’m just reassuring you.”
“Thanks, Gene.” Ray gives him one of those genuine smiles, the treasured one between the two of them. It sparks a warmth in Gene’s chest.
“No problem, man.”
They don’t have much time to talk to each other alone, though, as Carol finally makes an appearance.
“Hey guys. Mind if I sit here?” She points to a free chair next to Gene.
“Sure, that’s fine,” Gene answers.
Carol sits, adjusting her short skirt over her thighs.
She does have quite gorgeous legs, long and skinny, and skin that looks soft.
It’s not like Gene hasn’t thought of what it would be like to be intimate with her—likely very enjoyable—but at the same time, so far, he just hasn’t had the drive to ask.
And especially now, he feels like even if he did ask, he fears Ray would get angry at him for merely suggesting it.
“How do your feet feel now, Carol?” Ray asks her.
“Much better,” she says. “Thank you for asking.”
“I always want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Ray says. “Would you like a drink? I can get you one. What do you like?”
She giggles and swats the air at him. “Sure, why not? Since you asked so nicely. I’ll take a Rum-and-Coke.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” Ray gets up from his seat, then is off to the bar.
The warmth in Gene’s chest is gone, replaced by an anxious feeling gnawing at his lungs. Nothing is wrong; Ray’s just grabbing her a drink. But something unsettles him, making him take a large gulp of his whiskey.
“Ray’s nice, but he doesn’t need to do all this for me,” Carol says.
Gene looks over to her. “He’s just showing he likes you.”
“Well, yeah, I know.” She shrugs.
“Do you like him?”
Carol looks down at the table, thinking, before she looks back up at Gene. “Yeah. Maybe he’s a little pushy, but he’s rather sweet. Always wanting to accommodate. I like that about him.”
“That’s good. I like that about him a lot, too.”
“You guys are best friends, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Yeah. He knows everything about me, and me basically all about him, too.”