Chapter 11: Changing the Tune

Only a week into the eight week tour! It has been the most intense first week of any summer. Dwayne and Alex are sitting in the far back of the bus strategizing their next moves. It is exciting, sure, Dwayne admits. Sudden notoriety and full venues, requests for interviews, sudden social media presence, but Dwayne had a previous taste of fame and he isn’t really sure he wants this. Plus a full week on the road and not a word from him had found its way to paper. No song, no poem, not even a draft. He is concerned about the younger guys. Henry seems unaffected, but Tom is the one who found the videos online, saw how many people had watched, read the comments, started a web page and a Twitter account, @lonelyplayers, and even started a Facebook page. He has been taking pictures for the last two days and keeps posting them. He started a blog about riding the bus and the travels. What exactly is there to blog about? They are on a bus doing nothing but traveling. Dwayne is wondering, now, about the business end of the band. As the leader of the band, he has himself set up as a sole proprietor with a dba as the Lonely Players. He has a separate business account for the band. Essentially he owns the band and pays the band members as contractors. Now, he is going to need an attorney. What kind of formal band structure should they have? Do they all want to be “owners”? There was never any need before. Damn, the “band” lost money every year and Dwayne subsidized. Now, if they start to earn a profit…well, damn, it might just be more of a head-ache than it is worth.

Alex: What the hell is wrong with you? Tom isn’t whoring around or letting fame get to him. Did you even know that Tom is a writer?

Dwayne: A writer? He’s a computer programmer.

Alex: And you’re a damn college professor, right? Been on the road every summer for the last five years with the man. Have you ever had an actual conversation?

Dwayne: He’s quiet.

Alex: He’s a bass player. All bass players are quiet

Dwayne: He’s a little hard to talk to.

Alex: Let me fill you in. He’s a computer programmer who has been writing a science fiction novel for the last three years. The same damn novel he hopes to make into a series of novels. Writing it for three years. Now suddenly he’s writing something people are reading. He’s excited. He’s up to sixty people following this little blog, but he’s writing. He is seizing an opportunity. Do you think he really wants to play in this band his whole life? That’s not his dream. We’re lucky. Neither of us know a damn thing about promoting on social media. You have a natural promoter with all this geeky stuff. It helps the band. He’s having fun. Relax a little.

Dwayne: I’m not sure I want us to be promoted. Building a following kind of makes me nervous.

Alex: Why did you do that piece in Tahoe then? Been playing in Phoenix on their news program all week. The entire state of Arizona has seen it by now.

Dwayne: I thought it was just going to be a little interview on a local station.

Alex: Well, you turned on the charm for her, Professor. Clearly she was inspired by you. How was she by the way, Professor?

Dwayne groans. The moniker, “the Cowboy Professor”, showed up in a newspaper review following their Laughlin gig. The damn hotel clerk last night had called him Professor Cowboy when he checked in. Tom had shown him pictures on twitter #cowboyprofessor. Pictures of him on stage with comments about “arm pornography” and videos of him moving his ass. He hadn’t even considered social media when he agreed to be the front man. What the hell is arm pornography anyway? Women fantasizing about his arms? Absurd!

Alex: It was quite the piece, you know, all about building inter-generational community through musical storytelling. It’s like you were in a damn classroom, but with pictures of you shaking your ass and those puppy dog eyes of yours. I told Tom he should start a #handsomecowboyprofessor. He thinks you should do a regular podcast on musical heritage. You did this to yourself. Was she at least good in bed?

Dwayne: I’ve seen the piece, thank you. Who wanted me to move my ass to begin with?

Alex: Well, I guess I was right, front man! Seems to be working just fine, near as I can figure.

Dwayne: Is this what we wanted? Is this what you had in mind?

Alex: I didn’t tell you to seduce a journalist in Tahoe to get the best media coverage of your life. That’s all on you. I ask for the third time if she was good in bed.

Dwayne sighs. She has already called him. She has been asked to send her “reel” to Sacramento. It seems like she was getting what she wanted out of the deal. Glad he had been the right kind of handsome and smart at exactly the right moment for the culture for her to get her dream. Truthfully, he is happy for her. She thinks she might come to Tucson tomorrow night, but not for work. She wants to experience the success and see him in a moment she helped to create.

Dwayne: None of your business if I slept with her.

Alex: If? What the hell is the matter with you?

Dwayne: Stop asking me that. I can’t write. I haven’t written anything. I’m worrying about damn profit sharing instead.

Alex: Horrible. You could end the summer not being in debt. Horrible tragedy.

Dwayne: I’m spending my time trying to figure out how to squeeze in a radio interview in Phoenix in between the newspaper interview and the show, but I’m fielding phone calls from tomorrow night in Tucson trying to negotiate all of that…

Dwayne does seem a little frazzled. Alex and Tony have been on the phone several times this week. Tony might have arranged for the Tahoe interview, but he had not known what a slam dunk the piece was going to be. It was easy, Tony had told Alex, for him to use his connections to get the piece shown through-out Nevada and Arizona. Alex has had several conversations with Tom as well encouraging him to start the blog and the Twitter account. Even Alex, though, is surprised by how quickly Dwayne and the Lonely Players are getting noticed. The venue in Tucson had sold out quickly and the bar owner became concerned about security. They worked out a deal with an old movie set in Tucson to move the gig there and the bar is sponsoring it all. Alex knows that if they continue down this path, his plan will succeed. Tony is working on a scheme with some contacts he has with a PBS station in Arizona to film some of the Tucson gig. It’s working, but Dwayne, still unaware of his friends behind the scene efforts, is feeling the responsibility that comes with the increased notoriety.

Dwayne: 500 people. The capacity is 500 people tomorrow night and with the publicity and tomorrow being a Friday night. Can we really perform to that large of a crowd?

Alex: I have been working with your interns and Tom on lighting options and stage set-up. You’re not in this alone. We are all together on this.

Dwayne: But I’m the front man now and the band leader.

Alex: Doing a damn good job at it. Since we are getting some notoriety, there’s only one thing you need to do a little differently.

Dwayne groans. What now? Alex pulls a box from under the seat.

Alex: The Cowboy Professor playing at an old Western movie set before 500 people better be wearing a Cowboy Hat.

Dwayne: I can’t accept this. It’s too much.

Alex: You cannot wear that old thing you’ve been wearing. If it shows up on a picture on the internet it will be there forever.

Dwayne hasn’t been wearing a cowboy hat. He has a Lakers cap he wears when the sun is out. Guess it isn’t a good year to advertise being a Laker’s fan. He takes the Stetson out of the box. It is top of the line. Bet it cost a grand. He puts it on his head. It is the perfect fit.

Dwayne: It’s too much, Alex.

Alex: I got you into this. Besides I understand I’m going to be rolling in dough soon from profit sharing. It really looks good, respectable. We’ll have to discuss what songs to wear it on and when to take it off.

Dwayne groans again.

Alex: What the hell is the matter with you?

Dwayne: How about these kids, Alex? Do you think it’s safe for them?

The band met the three boys and one girl who had been following them since they left Lakeport. Brothers 18 (Frank) and 20 (Fred), their 17 year old sister (Jane) and a friend who is 19. These kids, in a car loaded down with camping gear, were driving around the Southwest following the band. They said they had been watching the band every year they played in Lakeport for the last five years. This year when they saw the band, they just decided this was how they were going to spend the summer.

Alex: Those kids will be ok and, even if they are not, it’s not your responsibility. Their parents know and approve. The Whitman’s checked it out with their parents. You gave the kids your cell number. Tom and Henry are watching out for them and your interns. Let them take care of the young’uns. Can you relax a little?

Dwayne takes off the hat and thanks Alex sincerely. Alex asks again, but this time a little more seriously.

Alex: What the hell is the matter with you?

Dwayne: You know I had a little taste of this before and I didn’t like myself. I didn’t like who it made me.

Alex: Just don’t become that person again.

Dwayne: Well, that’s easy enough.

Alex: Before you were chasing something, the brass ring; trying to grab your chance. Is that how you feel now?

Dwayne: No. I don’t give a damn about that really.

Alex: What are you chasing now?

Dwayne: The sound. You were right, Alex, about some of this. I like being the front man. It’s a kick knowing I control the show. If I’m having fun, the audience is having fun and I am having fun. Trying to play something different; chasing a sound. That’s fun.

Alex: Did you say I was right? I might need to hear that again.

Dwayne: I don’t know if we quite have the sound right. I was right about not bringing in any Southern rock. How about more Western- a Sons of the Pioneers song for tomorrow night.

Alex nods: “Cool Water” for summer in the desert would be good, but the kids like something a little faster.

Dwayne: I want to write something. Maybe a little Rockabilly song. I feel like there’s a rockabilly song inside of me, but I can’t get it out.

Alex: Ok- the sound needs to change a little more. How about the bigger crowds, the media?

Dwayne: Somehow it’s fueling the sound. There’s an energy to it. Seeing the momentum. If we don’t let it get us too big, you know.

Alex: You’re chasing a sound; not a dream of fame. It’s about the music, right?

Dwayne nods. One thing that isn’t different from last summer is that it’s about the music. One big thing that is different is how much he is enjoying experimenting with the sound of the music. There are a lot of stressors, but he is enjoying the music more.

Alex: It’s the difference from the last time when you were in Nashville. Don’t think of it as a rising star or chasing success, climbing the ladder, any of that. Chase the sound and let the momentum move you along. Like surfing, dude. Just riding the wave and what does it matter in eight weeks if you’re famous? That isn’t what you’re chasing.

Dwayne nods: Did you just say “like surfing, dude?”

The friends smile at each other. They look outside at the passing desert scenery which is worthy of a good cowboy song. Alex thinks, not for the first time this week, last time I will… He turns to Dwayne and smiles again.

Alex: So what the hell is the matter with you?

Dwayne: I’m having dreams, Alex, of a woman I don’t know and she is just surrounded by blue all around her.

Alex: Is she nude?

Dwayne: Hell, no she’s not nude? What the hell is the matter with you?

Alex: It’s someone you are going to meet.

Dwayne: If I do, I won’t know her because I can never really see her or focus on what she looks like. Damn it, Alex, I’m not writing. I thought being the front man would fuel the writing. I just worry if I will ever write again.

Alex: It’s the first week, Professor, and it hasn’t been a typical first week. Give it time.

Dwayne continues to worry about the expectations of the band, playing before larger crowds, the fear of failure. Alex is pleased. Everything is going according to plan.

Chapter 12: The Cowboy Professor

A small portion of The Lonely Players’ outdoor concert (on a Friday night in late June in Tucson with a capacity crowd of 500 in attendance) is captured for all time by the local PBS station film crew. They capture some of three songs. They capture in its entirety “The First Time” with various focused shots on Dwayne’s face. He is wearing his cowboy hat. He has a one day beard growth- a mere stubble darkening his lower face which perfectly offsets the lights shining on his large brown eyes. In the profile view his nose appears more noble than large. They capture the end of “Cool Water” with a full camera shot of the band playing on a stage with the old movie set of the saloon on one side and an adobe church on the other. They catch the beginning of “North Country Girl” with just Alex on harmonica and Dwayne on the dulcimer. The camera pans back and forth between a full view of the two men and close ups of Dwayne’s hands playing the dulcimer. He takes off the cowboy hat for this song and the camera captures him putting the hat beside him, running his hands through his longish hair and scratching his beard as he pulls a chair up before the microphone. He sits and Alex stands slightly in back to the right with the harmonica. It reached 100 during the day and only cooled off slightly in the evening. Earlier in the evening, during an especially ass moving song, Dwayne stripped off his cowboy shirt. In all three songs Dwayne wears a sleeveless blue t-shirt with a picture of a bald eagle on the front. He hadn’t thought about what t-shirt he was wearing under his cowboy shirt. He doesn’t usually take off his longer sleeved shirt, but the lights were bright. Alex felt they needed more lighting for the larger crowd. With the heat, the lights, the dancing, Dwayne hadn’t thought twice about stripping down to his sleeveless shirt. As Dwayne strums the dulcimer, the camera captures the eagle on his chest and the muscles in his biceps as they flex.

The PBS station will show this as part of a broadcast on modern Cowboys in the Southwest, but someone will leak parts on social media by the following morning. Tom’s blog followers will grow to 200 by the end of the next day after he writes an inspired piece about playing at the movie set: “Illusion vs. the reality.” He will describe his boss as the authentic reality amidst the illusion; a man who understands the significance of the song selection and is the most humble and down to earth man. #cowboyprofessor will be trending through the upcoming week-end and continue through the Fourth of July.

During the moments of the concert, Dwayne is not worried about the future, the cameras or social media. He is living in the moment. It is magical to be in these surroundings with energy emanating from the crowd. The band sounds great. The four kids following the band are spinning and twirling. The pretty journalist, Jackie, from Tahoe is here. Dwayne’s excitement about the evening is heightened knowing she will be there after. She is wearing a pink sundress and ridiculous bright blue cowboy boots with pink roses on them. When they play “Tennessee Jed”, she joins the kids dancing. Dwayne plays “The First Time” and thinks of the woman in his dreams of a blue world. At this moment he believes completely that there is still a chance he will find a soulmate and, if not, he will at least experience some bliss. As he strums the shit out of the dulcimer he remembers all the times he heard it in homes and realizes that with the right energy you can certainly get some real sound out of it for a crowd this size in an outdoor venue on a summer night. Alex has never imagined the dulcimer could sound like that or be played quite so enthusiastically. He wonders if the punk grass could be influencing Dwayne as Dwayne is improvising a dulcimer rift in the middle of this slow folk song. Alex doesn’t think about any future. He thinks about how happy he is to be alive to experience this night.

Saturday morning feels almost like a happiness hang-over. The sweet little thing in Dwayne’s arms when he wakes up is nude except for the ridiculous boots. He smiles at the memory of her, at some point last night, wearing just his hat, over-sized for her head, those boots, and an adorable grin. That should be a song writing inspirational memory! He worries just a little about how to let her down easily. He knows his soul mate is not a woman in her twenties, but he does feel connected in some way to this woman who has so impacted his summer. As she hurriedly dresses to catch her flight and says good-bye, he decides he doesn’t need to have any relationship or definition conversation with this woman. She was here for the fun. He should just consider himself fortunate she decided to have fun with him.

He wanders onto the tour bus finding it just a little hard to focus. In a few short hours, they are at a festival in Las Cruces, New Mexico doing it all again. It is not quite as magical and seems mostly a blur before they get back on the bus to travel during the night the almost six hours to Taos. Sunday is another festival day at the ski valley. Monday, the band is in Santa Fe for an evening concert at a small venue near the Old Town Plaza. Dwayne figures they will deserve the two days off he has planned for them in the capital of New Mexico. Tuesday is the Fourth of July and Wednesday is his fiftieth birthday. Thursday, the end of their second week on the road, they will be at a small casino between Grants and Gallup. What a full two weeks!

Late Sunday morning, as the band eats breakfast before heading to the festival event at the Taos ski basin, Tom informs the band that they are “trending”. He shows them the video from Friday night of “The First Time.” The band members sit in silence while they watch it and, when it is over, they turn as one to look at Dwayne. He does like the new sound of that old song. Any regrets at writing it is gone. He is embarrassed somewhat about the lighting on his eyes and kind of shrugs and says “nice hat” and leaves it at that. What can he say? Then, Tom shows him the tweets with a few seconds of him playing the dulcimer. The band members laugh at the tweets about his arms and the Eagle on his chest. There are comments about patriotism and what a true American looks like. Dwayne tries to remember where he bought the shirt. He hopes it isn’t made in China. Tom and Henry get a little loud in their excitement about the sudden popularity. Alex sees Dwayne is getting nervous once again.

Alex quiets the other men. He tells them not to let it go to their heads. This is just a thing like anything else, a moment in life to enjoy while it lasts, but not to expect it to last. He tells them the real thing they can take away is that the 500 people that were in Tucson attended a show they will never forget. He reminds them that the point is the music and the audience. Henry says, “Shit, we are just along for the ride. Tucson is a concert I will never forget and an experience I never thought I would have. We are happy to be a part of it, but the star is the Cowboy Professor”.

Dwayne is embarrassed again and doesn’t know what to say. Alex says that there is one more thing the band needs to talk about. He then leads them into the discussion Dwayne has been hesitant to approach. Remembering the conversation on the bus, Alex has thought about how to relieve some of Dwayne’s concerns. It is, after all, his scheme to make Dwayne famous which has created Dwayne’s stress. If there is an area of stress they can talk through and resolve now, this is good timing to do so. Alex tells the other two band members that with this increased notoriety, the band could become a viable business. To be clear, he says, the increased fame is not affecting income because the gigs are set, but if, like in Tucson, there are venue changes to attract a larger crowd, Dwayne could negotiate a larger house draw. There might be some extra money at the end of the summer. Alex then goes to a place in the conversation, Dwayne has not yet gone in his mind. What happens after the summer? What does it mean if the band could really be viable as a full-time business? Dwayne’s been subsidizing the band for years, Alex reminds them, but truthfully the band members have been working for little wages and giving of their time. What do they want and expect going forward?

Tom: You know, I want to be a writer. If you are going to go much bigger, my musical skills won’t contribute anymore. You might need to get someone else. I understand. However, you will need a social media person. Hire me for whatever hours you can for that. I’m going to use this experience in my writing. I don’t want a career in music and I don’t expect to be paid more than what I would have normally been paid for this summer. The experience and having a little social media following now-it’s worth it to me.

Henry: I play in your band. It’s an honor to play with someone like you. I hope you want to keep me- especially if I can get paid enough to quit my day job, but I don’t think the structure needs to change.

Dwayne: You know I will give you guys whatever money is extra after expenses at the end of the summer. If I don’t have to subsidize, I’m ahead. After the summer if we can or want to go full time…I haven’t even thought about it. I will do right by both of you.

Dwayne waits for Alex to say what he wants and expects. When Alex is quiet, Dwayne prompts him. Alex doesn’t make eye contact with Dwayne. He regrets beginning this discussion. He had not thought through what he was going to say. He is not willing to tell people he is dying. Yet he is not willing to make verbal commitments to a future to which he does not belong.

Alex: I’m with Tom. I don’t need anything more this summer and I think you will need to replace me after the summer is over.

Dwayne: Hell, no. That wasn’t the deal. You said if I did it your way, you would stay with me. We have done it your way.

Alex: I just don’t think I can…

Dwayne: I will make you half partner. We will be in this together. That’s what I would want going forward. You have been right. You wanted to hear me say it, well, I need your help. You and me as band owners, half and half, making all decisions jointly.

Alex: I don’t want that.

Dwayne: Then I will pay you to just stay on with the band. You got me into this. You can’t bail on me now. I need you.

Alex: You will be able to get better musicians. You will need better people going forward anyway.

Dwayne: Damn, Alex, there’s no one better than you. Plus I need someone I can trust. I need you with me. (Alex is quiet. He still doesn’t make eye contact. A few minutes pause seems much longer) Hell, I will just quit after the summer. I don’t want this. I had it before. It almost destroyed me. I can’t trust myself. I need you. You got me into this.

Alex wonders how bad it had been in Nashville. Dwayne seems so together. Everybody envies him. Whoever he was then, he is not that person now. It just goes back to Dwayne’s lack of belief in himself. Tom and Henry have left quietly. It is just the two old friends. Alex makes eye contact with Dwayne. Dwayne’s brown expressive eyes cut through Alex with pain. From Dwayne’s perspective, Alex has lied and betrayed him. Alex knows he has to tell Dwayne something of the truth. How to begin? Does he simply tell him he’s dying or does he discuss the plan to make Dwayne a star? Does he tell Dwayne about Tony’s involvement? Alex suddenly realizes that he hasn’t even been completely truthful with himself. It hasn’t even been two weeks yet. Alex doesn’t want to disclose to Dwayne and then maybe have Dwayne stop the media. Alex wants this summer. Perhaps it hasn’t been all about Dwayne. Perhaps, he wants this summer for himself. How much to tell?

Alex: Dwayne, I have some health issues…

Dwayne: Health?

Alex: Nothing too serious, but I have to take care of myself. I guess that’s why this summer is so important to me.

Dwayne: But why didn’t you tell me earlier? What do you need me to do?

Alex: I’m fine. I will stick with you as long as I can, but you know I’m older. I’m sorry. I will need to slow it down just as you’re speeding it up.

Dwayne (in a shocked voice). Hell, I wish I had known. What can I do?

Alex: We really don’t talk about these types of things.

Dwayne thinks to himself, I am a cold, selfish bastard. He has never once asked why his friend was different the last few weeks. In retrospect it should have been pretty clear that Alex was different. All this talk about changing the sound, buying him gifts, and Dwayne, of course, is so damn self-absorbed he never thought to try and get behind the truth of the matter. Dwayne thinks to himself that he will never change and that he is just an ass.

Alex: Dwayne? Do me a favor?

Dwayne: Anything.

Alex: Just give me this summer. I need a really great summer. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish.

Dwayne: Get ready, old man. This summer has just begun.

Chapter 13: All the Gals I’ve had

Dwayne jogs Monday morning around the plaza in Santa Fe near where The Lonely Players will be performing that evening. This is the first morning he has jogged since they have been on the road, but he needs to clear his head and put the events of the last few days in perspective. The sky is clear of any clouds and is a solid blue color. A sound of a plane flying makes Dwayne realize that his blue dreams are devoid of sound. In this moment, it is a beautiful morning in a beautiful city. He tries to concentrate on that fact; in this moment. For now, if he could live just in this moment. He stops to take a long look at the outside of a historic Catholic Church. Dwayne was raised Catholic, but Dani was Baptist and, when he has gone to church as an adult, it has been to Protestant churches. The church he stares at now is ornate, large, Spanish, magnificent- very unlike the modest one Dwayne attended as a boy. Dwayne lingers as much to catch his breath as to enjoy the ascetics. He is having trouble breathing in the higher altitude. Sunday’s performance, at the festival in Taos, was the first bad performance so far in the band’s nine performances during the first ten days of tour. They were tired. It was a grueling schedule to begin with and the news that, in all likelihood the band as it is currently configured will end this summer (with possibly just Dwayne and Henry going forward) was emotional for everyone involved. The headliner at the festival had watched from backstage. He told Dwayne afterwards that it always took one day to adjust to the altitude. Dwayne appreciated the excuse, but felt bad for the audience. In this case, there had been lots of other bands including the headliner. Still, it is the first taste of the failure Dwayne has feared. Dwayne hopes that it is the last bad show of the summer. However he is no longer afraid of failure for himself. He is no longer nervous about the sound or about being the lead singer. The conversation yesterday had shifted his focus. He wants to give Alex the best summer he can. Dwayne goes back in his mind trying to remember the details of the last couple of weeks; every conversation and interaction with his closest friend. He is acutely aware of the fact that all the changes Alex had insisted upon for Dwayne and the Lonely Players had been successful. Time for Dwayne to give back. He ponders how to deliver on the best next few weeks of Alex’s life. Dwayne stops at a coffee shop near the motel and pulls his buzzing phone out of his pants to answer.

An hour and a half later, he knocks on Alex’s motel room door. Santa Fe is an expensive town for lodging. They opted for an older style motel. It could use an update, but the sixties motif was supposed to be one of its charms. In fact, the “charm” that costs so much was tacky decorations, uncomfortable beds and a lack of basic amenities. They were planning on staying here for three nights. Dwayne knocks a little louder and with less trepidation. It is unusual for either friend to go to the other’s room while on the road. Dwayne has never thought about why before. Alex opens the door. His blank stare, shirtless skinny chest, and gray hair standing straight on top of his head informs Dwayne that Alex had been asleep. Dwayne hands Alex one of the two cups of coffee he brought with him, walks into the room silently, sinks down into a chair, lays his head back and closes his eyes for a few minutes. He opens his eyes and looks at the horseshoe and cowboy pictures on the wall. The room is decorated in a style that someone from Manhattan fifty years ago thought was Western. Dwayne improves his posture in the chair to fully alert and upright and takes a sip from his coffee. Alex has gone to the restroom. Dwayne can hear his stream hitting the water. The toilet flushes, the water from the faucet is on, Alex coughs loudly and repeatedly. Dwayne realizes he is listening intently for every sound, every action, as if listening for…what? Alex comes out rubbing his eyes.

Dwayne: This mountain air will kill you if you try to run in it.

Alex: And there was a marathon this morning I was going to enter. Since it’s only ten o’clock maybe I will go back to bed instead.

Dwayne: I have been on the phone. We have changes to our schedule the next two days.

Alex: We don’t have a schedule the next two days. We have a couple of days off.

Dwayne: Not anymore.

Alex: Why? No. Back to bed. We just had one more night to get through to two days off.

Dwayne: I’ve never seen you when you first wake up. You’re kind of a grumpy old man.

Alex gives Dwayne a fuck you look, takes the lid off the coffee and smells it before he takes a good long gulp of it. He pulls the other chair in the room away from the table over to the bed and sits in the chair with his legs up on the bed. He begins to cough again; the ritual morning clearing of his lungs. He stops by sheer will and looks at Dwayne.

Alex: This old, hard bed gave me leg cramps all night. Out with it.

Dwayne: A marketing person for a hotel in downtown Albuquerque called me. They’re sponsoring a concert at a venue in a historic theater. Seats 1000. They’ve sold 750 tickets already.

When Alex hears the band the hotel was sponsoring, he stands up and moves his chair back to the table. Suddenly the grumpy old man’s eyes are twinkling and a smile works its way to his face.

Alex: To use Tom’s lingo, I could fan girl them. They want us to open?

Dwayne: Fan-girl? Never mind. Lead Guitarist got into a fight Saturday night. He hurt his hand and can’t play.

Alex: They want you to fill in.

Dwayne: No. They have to cancel. The fight was with the drummer so I guess they are working some issues out. The hotel, though, has sold all these rooms as part of the package. You know with the holiday tomorrow and the band on Wednesday, they invested a lot into their marketing for these packaged deals. They will take a killing.

Alex: Tough break…

Dwayne: So the marketing director came up with a scheme to offset their losses. They want us to replace the band. People can either have their money back or can come see us instead. They are going to start showing that piece from Tahoe on the air tonight. Also, the local television station from Tucson is done with their piece on modern Cowboys and somebody with some power apparently convinced them to share it quickly with the Albuquerque public broadcasting station. It’s airing tomorrow.

Alex: (Aware that Tony must have pulled some strings- maybe made some contributions- related to the PBS affiliates). They think we have the draw?

Dwayne: It’s the night after a holiday so some people are just on vacation and would still be coming into Albuquerque- might not care who they see. We could play to another 500 people assuming 250 ask for refunds. That’s the estimate the marketing director came up with.

Alex: Sounds good.

Dwayne: Paying twice what we are earning anywhere else and complete comp for tomorrow and Wednesday night –luxury four stars accommodations-rooms and food.

Alex: Well, count me in, after this hard bed last night I could use a night or two on a comfortable bed and some high quality food delivered to my door.

Dwayne: Only one thing. They want us to record our version of “The First Time” for commercial air play and have some marketing pictures taken. They want to promote the rest of the summer that they “sponsored” us in Albuquerque. It will just be a digital recording for air play. No hard pressing or sale, but it is a way for them to keep the publicity through the rest of the summer.

Alex: You always said we’re not a recording band.

Dwayne: Things change.

Alex: Not because of me…

Dwayne: I want a professional recording of the band the way we are now today. Call me sentimental.

Alex: (under his breath and as an aside) Sentimental.

The two men drink a few sips of their coffee. Each is lost in their own thoughts for a few minutes.

Alex: Wait…When do they want all of this if the concerts Wednesday, tomorrow’s a holiday and we have another gig in another town on Thursday?

Dwayne: The marketing pictures we will do today here in Santa Fe. The recording is harder. There’s a place in Clovis with an engineer willing to let us record tomorrow. It means traveling tonight again after the concert, recording tomorrow, driving to Albuquerque tomorrow night.

Alex: Anything’s better than this motel another night. Shit, Dwayne, I never thought when I asked you to change the sound and become the lead that in less than two weeks we would have all this publicity, play larger gigs and be recording.

Dwayne: I’ve been meaning to ask you. What did you think would happen by changing the sound and having me be front man?

Alex: Oh, I knew it would happen this way. I just thought it would take at least three weeks.

Dwayne laughs. He needs to tell the other guys. He needs to make hotel arrangements and contact their bus service. He wants to take a nap and get some beauty rest before the marketing pictures and the show tonight. Alex laughs at him talking about beauty rest and reminds him to bring his cowboy hat and dulcimer to the photo shoot. Alex tells Dwayne to wear a real shirt- keep those biceps concealed for now. They are the Lonely Players’ secret weapon. Dwayne laughs again. He says it is time to leave.

He doesn’t leave, though. He sits and thinks with his face gradually going from laughter to sadness. His hands are folded in his lap. His eyes are cast downward.

Alex: Something on your mind, Professor.

Dwayne: I’m so sorry, Alex that I didn’t pick up on something was going on…

Alex: Shut up.

Dwayne: Why don’t we ever really talk to each other about, you know, serious things?

Alex: Because we’re not dating.

Dwayne: I know I can be a cold, arrogant, distant bastard.

Alex: Shut the fuck up. I’m not one of your women. I wanted to avoid this type of thing entirely.

Dwayne: What does it mean if we are best friends and can’t at this moment talk about anything real?

Alex: Fine. We can talk about anything you want to talk about.

Dwayne: What exactly is going on? Will you be getting any treatment? Will you be in pain?

Alex: No treatment-nothing like that and I will be fine. I’m just retirement age. It’s time for a little relaxation.

The two men make brief eye contact. It’s like that is it, Dwayne thinks. He knows at that moment that whatever is going on is more serious than Alex is saying. Dwayne turns his eyes away. He nods. He looks Alex in the eyes again. Maybe men express themselves in other ways and Dwayne has never really learned the language.

Dwayne: Fine. You want to get lazy on me – that’s fine, but expect me at your house every chance I get. You will still be able to cook, right? I will come over and play for you while you fry me up some catfish.

Alex laughs: Gawd. I guess now we are dating. You are going to be okay, you know. You’re smarter and wiser than you were twenty years ago.

Dwayne: I sometimes think I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over without learning anything.

Alex: You’re a stubborn one. It takes a couple of lessons sometimes, but you’re ready now. You know what you need?

Dwayne: To shake my ass more?

Alex: I created a monster. You need a woman- not like you’ve had, but a real woman. Someone your age who is smart like you.

Dwayne: If I found that woman, I would just hurt her and that really would destroy me. That is the last thing I need.

Alex: No. You blame yourself, but they weren’t the right women is all. They sound wonderful in their way, but you need a strong woman, an independent, self-reliant woman. The woman you had all seem like their worlds rotated around you. You need a woman where you have to spin a little bit around her. Work a little bit to get her to notice you.

Dwayne: Expert advice from the old man who has never been married. You know I have been in love with two very wonderful women. I have gone to bed with…let me think now, how many?

Alex: Jesus Christ, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know- more than 50?

Dwayne: (Thinking about the language of men he still has to learn). Tell you what. I will think of my top twenty and, after you retire, I will tell you in details about each one.

Alex: I would like that to pass some time. Is the journalist in the top twenty?

Dwayne: (thinking of Jackie wearing nothing but those stupid boots and his cowboy hat nods). She is probably in top five. If I was twenty years younger or she was twenty years older… I don’t know. At this stage in my life, if I was to fall in love with a woman my own age and she was single, then she would have a past. Her heart would have been broken at least once. You know it might be hard to think about how she might trust me. Then, it might be even harder if I hurt her. At least with Dani and Carolyn, I was the first bastard to break their hearts. Hopefully they are with men now they are happy with, but at my age, a new love with a woman my age? I wouldn’t want to be just another in a long line of men to hurt a woman. The last man to break a woman’s heart? I would hate myself.

Alex: You know that line of thinking should be in a song or a poem. Are you ready to start writing?

Dwayne: Sure, but I won’t be able to. I will take a nap and dream of a woman in a world of blue. That’s all I will be able to do.

Chapter 14: What Would I do with a Prince?

When Sandy thinks of the term “spiritual healing” it is accompanied by an involuntary eye roll. If she felt like she needed spiritual healing, she would likely have started with the local Episcopalian Church since that is the religion in which she was raised or she might have asked Juanita to introduce her to her Priest. She might even have gone to the Buddhist Community Learning Center where she has previously taken classes on meditation. Yet on Monday, July 3, Sandy is at a spiritual healing center between Santa Fe and Dulce about to meet with a hypnotist for hypnosis regression to explore her past lives.

Sandy has spent hours online and at the public library reading about psychic phenomena and the possibility of psychic connections, psychic bonds and past lives. She decided the most professional route she could take to look into what she is now mentally describing as “the blue screen issue” is hypnosis regression. This particular center has a consulting physician and psychotherapist should the hypnotist feel a recommendation is needed. The grounds are beautiful. There is a walking path and meditative gardens. Sandy started with a yoga class this morning. She figures it is not a complete waste of time at any rate. It’s a beautiful morning drive, a little yoga, a little hypnosis, a picnic lunch and pretty drive home. Just another day in the life of the modern New Mexican woman! She is a little worried about the cost. She took money out of the emergency automobile fund and, between the dulcimer and the hypnosis, has pretty much depleted that fund, but if she is going to pursue this, she doesn’t want to go to some cut rate, uncertified charlatan.

The hypnotist, Linda, invites her back to her office and asks her if she wants some tea. There are two comfortable chairs with a small table near a large window with an inspirational view which makes Sandy think of Georgia O’Keefe. The chairs are a distance from the hypnotist’s desk and face to the window. Linda gestures for Sandy to sit. As Sandy sits, she notices a road runner outside and wonders if there is any mythological component to seeing a road runner before beginning a spiritual healing. Sandy is relieved that Linda is conservatively and professionally dressed and has a relaxed and competent manner. Linda begins by explaining that she is not a therapist and the circumstances under which a referral would be made to a different professional. She then tells Sandy about the training she received for her certification, provides Sandy a code of ethical guidelines she follows and asks her if she has any questions. Sandy is not sure what she was expecting, but she finds her shoulder muscles had tensed up with anticipation, despite her yoga class this morning. With Linda’s professional demeanor, Sandy’s shoulder muscles begins to relax.

Linda’s voice is very well modulated even for the initial explanation. “Sometimes past lives can have consequences in this life. There are actions that repeat or traumas that impact us. We might find ourselves unable to avoid situations no matter how hard we try or we might have reactions to situations without a rational explanation. Regression hypnosis is simply a way to see where your spirit needs work through what past life is visited. I suggest a good place to start is by identifying a specific situation or problem you are experiencing in your current life. It allows me to help guide the experience. We do an audio recording so you can listen to your experience, but most people do remember their experience upon awakening. You have signed a release and an understanding of the recording process, but I always like to get verbal permission before I begin the recording. Do I have your permission?”

Sandy nods and puts down her tea. She is now looking forward to this experience. The literature had said she would be well rested upon awakening and she feels she is in good hands. Linda prompts her to express in simple, brief terms the reasons why she is seeking spiritual healing through regression hypnosis. Sandy doesn’t know how to answer. She doesn’t think she needs spiritual healing. She simply wants to know more about the man who is writing poetry and songs while she sleeps.

Linda: Are the poems and the songs disturbing in some way?

Sandy: Only that he is sad and wants to find love. He feels responsible for having emotionally hurt women in the past. I feel really sad for him. He deserves love, but just can’t find it.

Linda: Are you struggling with finding love? Do you feel like you might not deserve love?

Sandy: I don’t really need romantic love. It’s not something I want.

Linda: So you are not allowing yourself to find romantic love? You are not opening up to the possibility of love? This could be because of something a past life has experienced. We will start the hypnosis now.

Sandy: Wait. I don’t really want this to change me. I’m happy the way I am. I just want to know more about this man. I don’t want to be more open to falling in love. I mean, it sounds good in theory, but it just seems too complicated. It would change my life so much and I don’t really need that. I’ve never really believed in the myth of love because, you know, once the Prince kisses you and all that, then we really never see what happily ever after really means, you know. What do you do with a Prince in your day to day life? Watch television with him, do his laundry, have someone to hold your doors open for you. Who needs that?

Linda: I’m confused. You are seeking spiritual healing. Are you simply hoping the poetry and songs will stop?

Sandy: God, no. I love the poetry and songs. I don’t want them to stop. I kind of like waking up with this man in my head. I just want some type of confirmation that they are coming from a past life, so I know I’m not suffering from split personality or possession or something else. I’m mean they have to be coming from somewhere, right?

Linda reminds Sandy again in a patient voice that the purpose behind regression hypnosis is spiritual healing. Simply by saying she wants to know more about this past life and by making the commitment to hypnosis regression, her spirit is directing her to explore what trauma happened in a past life to make her so cynical about love. The whole point is to be changed by the experience. Linda tells her the fact of her writing these songs and these poems indicate the need for her spirit to heal. Linda asks her if she still wants the hypnosis. Sandy has to admit that Linda is making sense; although the thought that the songs and poems would end is not a thought she enjoys. She will miss him if he goes away. Linda says the only way the hypnosis will be successful is if Sandy trusts in the process and trusts in herself. Sandy will try.

Linda begins the hypnosis. There is nothing remotely spooky about the process. It is simply relaxing your body and your mind with a well-trained facilitated guide. It is not unlike meditation. Sandy believes she can trust the process. She finds herself getting drowsy and her eyelids getting heavy. She awakes about fifteen minutes later and tells Linda she needs pen and paper. She has to write down the words to a poem about trust.

Section 6: Trust

Can you trust me without knowing me

Though life and other men have taught you not to trust?

We don’t have time for proof and reassurances.

Now, more than ever, we must decide to love or move on.

We each took the leap much younger with others.

A decade or more later we gave up the fight.

What would make either of us at this time, in this place, at our age

Risk it all on another leap of faith?

We should fear the leap.

We know better than to dream, believe again.

Yet we stare down the road to darkness,

At an abyss of loneliness until the end,

In a perpetual transitional period

Between the Hell of past love and death.

It is this that makes us want to take the risk at love again;

A last attempt to get it right.

There is something about the sparkle in your eyes;

Yes, it is the specks of pain that lie beneath.

Your smile is practiced, but your lips are kissable.

Your voice is soulful; tinged with past regret,

Yearning for a simpler, truer love.

It is your laughter which does not flow easily

That breaks my heart when it does and

Hastens me to make you laugh again.

Can you trust me without knowing me

Though life and other men have taught you not to trust?

More importantly, have I learned enough of life’s lessons

To make me worthy of trust this time?

Chapter 15: In search of a Prince

It is Monday on the afternoon of July 3rd. Sandy is in Santa Fe, New Mexico. There are no clouds today; not even the hint of a monsoon to be. Before Sandy turns off the vehicle, she lets it idle and listens to the motor. Sounds good as far as she could tell, but how could she tell? She is more than usually worried about the health of her car’s motor as her automotive repair fund is depleted. There is something about not having money saved for an emergency which speeds an emergency along. Sandy has found the clairvoyants’ office. She checks her bank account to be sure she could afford- no that she has- the $40 for a reading. She does not have a spare $40 clearly and cannot afford this frivolous spending, but she does have $40 in her account should she choose to spend it in this frivolous manner. She is a little concerned that the office is in a strip mall. There is an overpriced grocery store which sells organic vegetables and conscientiously farmed meat, a Chinese restaurant advertising vegetarian options, a private photographer’s studio, and a clairvoyant’s office within this strip mall. Santa Fe! The two offices sit side by side: the photographer’s office and the clairvoyant’s office. Both have small wooden signs announcing themselves inconspicuously. All the cars in the parking lot are parked at the supermarket which is packed on this day before a major holiday. Sandy sits in the only vehicle parked on this side of the parking lot and watches the cars on that side of the parking lot exiting and entering parking spaces. She hears a horn and sees a man walking into the supermarket with his finger raised to a woman getting out of her vehicle. Well, whatever her problems might be, at least Sandy doesn’t need to go grocery shopping today.

Sandy is embarrassed when she thinks about her hypnosis regression session this morning. She had apparently slept quietly after being hypnotized. Linda says she had not said anything until she woke up and there is nothing on the tape. When she awoke and asked for paper and pen, Linda handed her a small notebook and pen from her desk. Sandy wrote down the words to the poem as if by rote and without thinking what they said or meant. Linda asked if she could read what Sandy had written. Linda handed the poem back to Sandy along with a referral to make an appointment with the psychotherapist at the clinic. Linda said that it was clear that this was more of a mental health related issue than a spiritual healing issue at this point. Linda did not think that Sandy could, at this point, trust the hypnosis process enough for it to be helpful. Because of the depressed nature of the poem related to the abyss of loneliness and transitional period between Hell of past love and death, as well as the fact that Sandy seemed to be focused on a fictional man she had made up, plus Sandy’s own statement related to being concerned about her mental health, Linda wanted to encourage Sandy to seek mental health support. Once the psychotherapist thought it was appropriate, she could resume hypnosis regression again, if she wanted. Sandy was stunned at the time. Now, she is simply embarrassed.

On her drive back from Dulce, while driving through Santa Fe, she had decided to throw her better caution to the wind and seek the advice of a psychic or a medium. To have come all this way and spent that much money and not have any real results! At least a psychic will make something up and tell you something you want to hear. She thinks of the astrology site which sends her daily emails. It is not that she really believed in astrology, but she always felt the advice was worth reading. “Today would be a good day to let the anger go.” “Reach out to a love one to tell them you love them.” “Something important will happen today if you are paying attention.” Random advice which never seemed wrong even if it wasn’t always right. Wouldn’t a psychic at least give her some platitude to carry with her so she could feel like the day was worthwhile?

Now, Sandy is not so sure about seeking psychic help. She has found the psychic’s office and is simply sitting in her vehicle; watching the traffic across the parking lot. She pulls out the poem that came through her this morning; the poem about trust. She thinks about her dream. In the hypnotic trance, it seemed like she had some control of the dream. When she saw the words on the screen, she felt that the mystery man in the dreams thoughts were alongside her own and as if his emotions, his heart, were part of her. She had thought-but I want to see him-and she had. He was in the distance. She could see he was tall and wearing a cowboy hat. Her mind had naturally went to wanting him to hold her and suddenly he was-just as he had in the one dream before. She leaned back in his strong arms. He rubbed his newly shaven face on her neck. It was nice to have that much control, but she still couldn’t turn around to see him. The words were still on the screen and she thought to herself she wanted him to read the words to her. She felt suddenly a block-as if her mind was pushing against some type of force. She then heard a deep, soulful voice whisper in her ear. He said only the one word: darlin’ and then the man was gone. Darlin’ and not darling. The first syllable was drawn out and the second cut off short without the precision of the ending g.

“Motherf…” There was some type of altercation in the parking lot across the way; a fender bender of some sort. Sandy rolled up her own vehicle’s window so no one would hear as she read the poem out loud. She stopped and read again the verse that had concerned the hypnotist.

Yet we stare down the road to darkness,

At an abyss of loneliness until the end,

In a perpetual transitional period

Between the Hell of past love and death.

Yes, this is a depressing few lines. Sandy accesses the memory of the mind and heart which had been a part of her in her dream. Of course, he is depressed. Someone he loves is sick. He has just found out this person is very sick and might be dying. Of course, he is thinking of his own mortality and death. Thinking of death makes him think of love. He wants to be in love again to give meaning to the remainder of his life, but he is concerned that he might hurt another woman. This has now been expressed in two poems.

Sandy realizes that the hypnosis this morning had been helpful. She had seen him in the distance. She had felt his arms again. She has heard his voice. It just wasn’t enough. She wants to know more about this man. She looks over at the modest wooden sign hanging in front of the clairvoyant’s office. Is consulting a medium she found through Google search the smartest way to learn more? She glances back at the traffic in the parking lot – looking to distract her thoughts or looking for a sign to make up her mind. A tour bus pulls into and continues to her part of the parking lot. It pulls in a couple of rows ahead of hers; the closest spot to the photographer’s shop. Four men get out. The first two men to exit the bus are young. The third appears older. He looks at the ground to measure the distance between the last stair of the bus and the ground before carefully planting one foot and then another from the stair to the ground. He is carrying a violin’s case. The fourth man is a tall man, rugged looking from the back, and as he exits the bus he puts on a cowboy hat. A tall cowboy in the distance? What are the odds? She then thinks that she is in Santa Fe and so the odds are pretty good. She opens her car door. Time to see what a psychic could tell her.

The clairvoyant is a short, stout, older woman. She has very wavy, shoulder length salt and pepper hair and beautiful hazel eyes. She is dressed in what Sandy thinks of as Santa Fe chic- jeans, a white shirt, understated brown Western boots and a lot of turquoise jewelry. There is a long wooden table in front of a long mirror mounted on the wall. The mirror appears to be hand carved and matches the legs of the table. Santa Fe chic furniture! The smell of patchouli and sage lingers in the air. Sandy and the psychic have a brief conversation about price and Sandy pays in advance. She takes out her debit card and sighs before putting it back and taking out a credit card. Better hang onto cash. Sandy explains she is interested to know about her past lives. The clairvoyant gestures for Sandy to sit with her back to the mirror and she takes a seat looking at Sandy and the mirror. She explains that during their session she might appear to be looking past Sandy into the mirror. The mirror helps her to focus her visions. It is important Sandy does not look into the mirror. Sandy should begin by thinking only about happy and pleasant thoughts. She should let her mind go wherever she wants, but at first should try to concentrate on the things she finds most beautiful. When the clairvoyant begins to speak it will mean a spirit has come to her. Only after she begins to speak should Sandy let her mind wander away from happy thoughts and only then can Sandy ask questions. Sandy thinks of her beautiful daughter riding her bike. Her daughter’s tanned legs are pedaling and her long dark hair is hanging down her back. She is on the path near the river. Sandy thinks about her daughter for what seems like a long time before the clairvoyant looks into the mirror. When the clairvoyant begins to speak, she has a similarly well-modulated voice as Linda used this morning.

The clairvoyant tells Sandy that in her past life Sandy had been a man who died very young. He died as an adult, but very young and in war. She sees him in uniform, World War II, she thinks, and dying on a beach in a battle. He was brave and heroic-fighting on the right side of history. That is all she sees.

Please give more details, Sandy asks, where is he from, is he in love? The psychic appears to deepen her gaze into the mirror. He is an American, she says, from New Jersey. He remembers when he lands on the beach in battle, how he had spent much of his youth on the beaches in New Jersey. It is what he is thinking about when he dies. She doesn’t know if he was in love or not.

Sandy thinks to herself that he is not her man. He died too young to have the regrets over love as the man who comes to her. Sandy asks if she can see any other lives. The clairvoyant tells her she was an Apache squaw living in the West before that. She cannot tell more except that there was sadness.

“What is it you really want to ask,” the clairvoyant says to Sandy; looking now not into the mirror but directly at Sandy. She is staring at Sandy, but her eyes appear to be focused or rather unfocused in an intense but lost distance only she could see. “What is it you really want to know?” “About a man, a cowboy,” Sandy finds herself whispering. The medium tells her she has never been a cowboy. Sandy sighs.

Clairvoyant: It is not about a past life, but this life you wonder about. Not about who you have been, but someone you will meet. You will meet him soon. He is closer than you think. He will be wearing a cowboy hat when you meet, but he is not a cowboy in the way you think. He is employed with the University of New Mexico. I do not know if you will fall in love. He is handsome. You will be attracted to him.

Sandy: Is he a poet or a songwriter?

Clairvoyant: I cannot see. The images are gone. I am afraid the session is over.

She instructs Sandy to sit for a minute silently out of respect for the spirits. She then hands Sandy a bottled water and opens one up for herself. “It is very important to stay hydrated,” she tells Sandy. “Do not be surprised if you are tired and especially thirsty tonight. These experiences can really screw up your electrolyte balances.”

Sandy thanks her and goes outside. She is confused and is actually both tired and thirsty. As she walks outside she notices a man standing by the photography shop. He is small in both height and bulk. He is wearing jeans, a white shirt and a bolo tie. He watches the bus she has seen earlier drive away. He smiles at her and she stops and opens up her bottle of water.

Sandy asks him, just to make conversation, if he is the photographer and he says yes. She asks him if the men in the bus were in a band. Yes, he tells her, The Lonely Players, has she heard of them? She shakes her head. She doesn’t listen to popular music. He tells her they are a country band playing tonight in Santa Fe and Wednesday night in Albuquerque. He tells her the location in Albuquerque. It is close to the bar. She wonders if it might be a busy night. The photographer tells her he was taking publicity pictures. She could look them up online. There are several videos posted. The main singer plays some kind of odd musical instrument- something he had never heard of before, but he didn’t listen to country music. He was more into the Santa Fe Opera then the Grand Old Opry. He is flirting with Sandy which annoys her a little, but she does not want to be rude.

The photographer asks Sandy how her session was. Sandy shrugs. She is not sure. He asks her if she was talking to her deceased. Sandy tells him no. She was exploring past lives. The short man laughs. “So, what were you? A young man from New Jersey who died in World War II or an Apache woman.” All Sandy can think is “fuck.”

On her way back to Albuquerque, Sandy listens intently to her car’s motor and curses her stupidity. It is a little bit of a relief when her boss calls and asks her to work a shift. As a salary employee it will not give her more money, but it will be nice to do something familiar, productive and structured after a day of such strange. She should have expected to work tonight. Days around a holiday people always call in “sick”. He tells her she can come in late the next day in exchange, perhaps around 8 pm. It is likely to be slow earlier due to the holiday. Sandy is happy she will have some additional time with her daughter tomorrow. There is a carnival out of town, she promised to take Isadora and Carmen to prior to dropping them off at Juanita’s for fireworks. Sandy shakes off the strangeness and the regrets of the day. She has spent the money. It is gone and worrying will not bring it back.

July 4th might normally be quiet in a bar, but the third never is if the holiday is during the week. Too many people thinking it’s like an extra Friday. Sandy stays busy and, as she hoped, distracted from the events of the day. However, the poem on trust keeps rolling around in her head. She likes these poems and songs which she now thinks of as gifts. Gifts from the blue screen! Gifts from the tall strong man in a cowboy hat! Can you trust me without knowing me? She feels like he is a man she could trust.

Sandy sees a man with a cowboy hat come into the bar. He is in his early thirties. He is one tall, handsome man, not too handsome, but handsome enough. He seems to take care of himself. He orders a Jack and Coke. When she asks for an Id, he realizes he doesn’t have it in his wallet. Doesn’t she think he is old enough, he asks with a smile. Nice teeth! Sure, she does, but his credit card doesn’t have a signature. It says see ID. He asks if he can show her a work ID. It has a picture of him and is from the University of New Mexico. That will work!

Closing time is going smoothly. The only customer left is the University Professor who has been flirting with her all night. The bartender calls out to Sandy that the wait staff who called in sick tonight is on the phone. She sounds hoarse and Sandy feels bad for thinking she was faking. The wait staff says she knew she shouldn’t come in tonight, but is really concerned about money. She hasn’t made her rent yet. She heard a story on the news tonight, there is a big concert event near the bar on Wednesday night. The bar will be hopping, but she is scheduled off- please let her work. Sandy has scheduled herself to be one of two wait staff that night. If this wait staff comes in, Sandy can have the night off. She can clear it with her boss tomorrow. She tells the wait staff yes, please come in on Wednesday. Sandy hangs up the phone and does a happy dance, tells the bartender that she has just arranged to have Wednesday night off. The professor hears her, calls her over, and asks if she doesn’t want to go to a concert with him on Wednesday night.

Sammy, the professor, is really just an associate professor, he told her earlier in the evening. It is unlikely he will make tenure. He is a folk historian specializing in Western folk heroes, the myths of the Wild West. Class sizes are down and the only reason he was invited back next semester is because he has picked up a popular class from another instructor who is leaving; a class on the paranormal. Sandy asks him if he believes in psychics and mediums and all that. He says not in the way people think. Paranormal studies has an interest in him only as it reflects on the culture. Why do people in northeastern New Mexico believe more in ghosts, he asks, than other areas in the state? What does that mean in terms of the cultural ancestry of the place? There obviously are not ghosts, but there is a reason why the people in this region believes in ghosts.

Sandy told him earlier she didn’t like Cowboys and Sammy explained he wore the hat ironically. He doesn’t idolize cowboys; although he studies them. His academic thesis was on the danger those Western myths pose to modern day society. It is damaging to the modern male psyche when modern men try to measure up to the heroes of the old West.

As Sammy invites Sandy to the concert, he explains to Sandy why he wants to see this band on Wednesday night. He tells her the band has been getting a lot of media attention; exploiting the myths of the Cowboys and playing on people’s patriotism. Really shameless manipulation of these images! Wearing an image of an Eagle on a too tight shirt! Playing on a Western movie set. It’s hilarious, he says, but working and he wants to go to see what kind of people are buying into it. This front singer, getting all the attention, even plays this old instrument nobody has ever heard of called the dulcimer. Sandy says, dulcimer? I know, Sammy says, what the hell is a dulcimer. Sandy smiles. Sammy had been interviewed on the phone for background information by a journalist. He has learned that the media likes positive quotes about the cowboy mythology so he has learned to modify his opinion a little when he talks to them. The university likes when he receives credit by the media as an expert and so he wants them calling back. Whatever he told the journalist who called, he really wants to go and see how this cowboy professor is playing the audience to earn his dime. At first Sandy says no, but Sammy persists. Sandy thinks of the prediction from the clairvoyant and how nice it felt to have the tall, strong man with the cowboy hat hold her in his arms this morning during her hypnosis. Not a man from a past life, possibly, a man from this life, the psychic had said. Sammy is smiling at her now with those white teeth. She relents. Yes, she will go with him to see the Lonely Players.

Chapter 16: Independence Day

Sandy gives Isadora and Carmen exactly one more hour before they leave to go back to Albuquerque. She reminds them that she only had a couple of hours sleep last night and she still has to work tonight. No, they cannot take the train back! No way! The girls have met older boys and one girl from California who are spending the summer traveling the Southwest. Two of the boys are doing this for some type of college credit as interns. The other three boys and girl are three siblings and the girl’s boyfriend from a small town in California. Carmen and Isadora are infatuated with the two brothers, Fred and Frank. The brothers are mostly identical, but Fred is two years older than Frank. Sandy pulls the girls aside at one point to remind them that these boys are considered adults and that the girls are both still fifteen; although today, they could pass for eighteen. It had seemed like such an innocent thing when Sandy agreed Carmen could spend the night on the 3rd and she would drive them to the town south of Albuquerque for a Fourth of July carnival. Sandy had pictured this quaint slice of Americana with two young girls with pony-tailed hair eating cotton candy and playing carnival games. Instead, she woke up to two young women with eyeliner, mascara, lipstick and curled, teased hair wearing short sun-dresses and identical green cowboy boots with white lizards on them. They told her cowboy boots with sun-dresses was the biggest fashion craze and Sandy realized she sounded old telling them it was ridiculous. How could you walk comfortably in cowboy boots? Once at the carnival, the girls had quickly met a seventeen year girl dressed almost identical, but in purple cowboy boots with a pink design, who had introduced them to her brothers and friends. That was hours ago and now Sandy is fatigued with the chaperoning. She is simultaneously amused and dismayed by the look in her daughter’s eyes, by the way she is tossing her hair and coyly looking down at the ground. Where did she learn these things? Sandy wonders if this is her first boy crush or just the first one she has witnessed. The girls are begging for some unchaperoned time. They promise to stay in the tent where local bands are playing. They just want to dance. Sandy thinks her daughter is about to experience her first kiss and her eyes swell with tears. These boys are adults, but not really that much older. She has been impressed with how polite Fred and Frank are. What can happen in an hour in a public place? In the debate in Sandy’s mind she thinks that these kids will be gone Thursday morning. There is no long term romance here. What harm can there be? Sandy agrees to one hour and then they have to leave to return to Albuquerque.

Sandy gets herself a slushy, watermelon drink and walks to the exhibit area of the carnival where jewelry, purses, and art vendors are set up in a line. At a leather vendor she looks at the boots. Boots with sundresses! She wonders if she should buy a pair of bright red boots with green cactus on them. She could wear them to the concert tomorrow night. Sandy’s checking account is a little light, she reminds herself, and she passes. It is the first time she has really thought about her date since accepting the invitation. If she is destined to date a cowboy, she is happy it is one who, instead of being a serious cowboy, is someone who is a tongue in cheek cowboy; someone who laughs at the concept of Cowboys. She had been shy about asking him if he wrote poetry or songs. He is handsome. He is not as handsome as Mike, but he is young and fit. She realizes Mike is texting, as if on cue, and she texts him back that she is spending the day with her daughter and working tonight. He texts that he misses her and it has been a while. Sandy sighs. She looks past the vendors in their row and sees a tent a little bit beyond and in back of the other vendors by itself. She walks over to it.

“Gypsy psychic, palm reading and tarot cards” the sign says. Sandy laughs thinking of the day before and how the medium got at least meeting a man employed with UNM and wearing a cowboy hat right. Of course, she played the odds, with UNM being such a large employer in Albuquerque. The gypsy psychic peeks out of the tent, sees Sandy and walks out. She looks no older than the kids Sandy has been chaperoning all day. Sandy notices that she is wearing hippie sandals instead of cowboy boots. She is dressed in an ankle length sunflower yellow dress. She is wearing no make-up, has very long and straight, straw color hair. She doesn’t look like a gypsy. She looks like she is straight out of Americana. She introduces herself as Gypsy and Sandy asks if that is actually her name.

Gypsy: That’s what my parents named me. I hated them as a teenager for it, but you know, they were the free love bohemian types.

Sandy: How did you become a psychic?

Gypsy: Born into it, but I’m the first one to join a carnival. I’m just traveling around this summer for the experience before I start college, but you can trust me. All the women in my family have had the gift for generations.

There is something Sandy likes about this girl. Besides she is trying to save money for college. Sandy agrees to the cheapest session, a three tarot card reading, but warns Gypsy she had just paid to learn about her past lives yesterday.

They walk into the tent. There is a folding card table with two folding chairs. There are no mirrors, beautiful views, offers of tea, or smell of patchouli. It appears Gypsy had been eating a corn dog at the table and first she needs to clear and clean the table. Sandy smells mustard. She laughs to herself. Her adventures in psychic phenomena! She had started at the hypnotist so serious, but Sandy is having difficulty taking this psychic seriously. Sandy and Gypsy sit across from each other and Gypsy spreads the cards on the table in front of Sandy face down.

Gypsy: I like to use the three card tarot read more for meditation than anything else. You can ask a specific question, but often people are disappointed because this reading isn’t in depth enough to really guide you. But you don’t want to think too general either. Otherwise it’s easy for the cards to be read as generic, for anyone. For instance, if I want to know about a career path, if I want to know if I should take a specific job- that is specific enough for a more detailed reading with more cards. If I think will I have a good career, that is too broad and the reading will be too general. If I think should I pursue a career in music- that is the right amount of specificity for this three card reading. I read for a lot of people my age so career paths are a big topic.

Sandy: Okay. I think I understand.

Gypsy: I believe in the existence of energy of the past, present and future and of all living things. We are each individuals, but we do belong to a greater collective energy. This energy is always trying to guide us- sometimes with large signs and sometimes with small- you might have dreams, or see a pattern in the same symbol showing up in different ways in your life. Most people don’t know how to read the signs or see the patterns. The gift I inherited through the women in my family allows me to see the patterns, but remember you have free will. I don’t really see the future because the future isn’t determined yet, but I can sometimes see how the future might be or what the energy is warning you about in the future.

Sandy: That all sounds pretty mystical.

Gypsy: The belief system of your reader influences the reading. This is why I give these details. Now, the first card you select is sometimes called the past card. I call it the influence card. The past does influence us, but I read for a lot of younger people and it might be their fears or their parents influencing them. The second card is sometimes called the present. I think of it as a crossroads card. It reflects your state of mind. The third card is sometimes called the future, but I call it a path card. Most of us seek psychic intervention because we want to know if we should choose a path or stay on our current path. This card tells you what to consider if you choose or continue on the path you are considering. It tells you what you will encounter. Remember free will. This is why I say use this reading as more meditative than fortune telling.

Sandy likes the approach Gypsy is articulating. In the same way that the hypnotist and clairvoyant calm, modulated voices from yesterday had reassure Sandy, Gypsy’s enthusiasm and lack of calming modulation is reassuring after yesterday’s experiences. Gypsy seems sincere and full of youthful optimism. Gypsy’s belief that life is a big adventure is infectious and appropriate for a Fourth of July carnival setting. Sandy is having fun. It helps that the reading was just $5.

Sandy: So love seems too general a topic, but asking about a specific man would require a more complex reading. I guess I want to know if I have a soul mate or a true love and if I have already met him or will meet him in the near future.

Sandy draws three cards and Gypsy lays them in front of her and sweeps the other cards away. The first card is the picture of the Devil and represents obsession. The second card is the nine of Pentacles and represents discipline and self-reliance. The third card is the Lovers Card. Wow, Sandy thinks, there must be something to this. The reading seems quite clear and appropriate. Yet Gypsy seems to be faltering and having trouble concentrating. Sandy tells her it all makes sense. The obsession card for the past is about her daughter’s father. The self-reliance card is because she has been living a life of arrogant self-reliance. Sandy thinks about the Browning poem again. Sandy says she has never thought about true love until recently. This future card means she should be open to love, right? Gypsy sweeps the cards away. Her forehead wrinkles and she gathers her hair together, holds it in a tail with her left hand and runs her right hand around and down the tail. This is similar to a gesture Sandy and Isadora does in common when they are worried about something. Gypsy opens a large red hemp product bag and pulls out a large candle and matches. She places the candle on the table and lights it.

Gypsy: I am getting very strong psychic energy from you that are beyond this tarot card reading. I need to use the candle to focus the energy to speak to me. (Gypsy stares intently into the candle. Her facial expression is one of bewilderment.)

Sandy: I don’t understand.

Gypsy: Be quiet. I am trying to understand.

Sandy is surprised by being shushed and wonders at Gypsy’s theatrics. This for $5. Suddenly Sandy has a sense of…what? It is a new sensation for Sandy which she cannot name. The background carnival noises from outside seem to disappear. The dry New Mexico air seems to have moisture clinging to it. Gypsy is sweating at her brow. Sandy feels a sense of something portent in the air she had not experienced at the clairvoyant’s. She wants to dismiss it and might be able to later, but in this moment the anticipation of pending revelation is as strong as anything Sandy has ever felt.

Gypsy: People don’t really understand the concept of soul mates. They think of it as a romantic concept- someone you will have a romantic relationship with over several lifetimes.

Sandy: It’s not? (Her voice sounds loud to herself)

Gypsy: Only in the movies. It is more frequent that you have souls attached to yours that you travel with through different life times, but they might be a brother in this life, a parent in the next, a boss or close friend in another.

Sandy: Oh, never a love connection? (Sandy whispers to keep her voice from being loud)

Gypsy: You might have love connections over life times, but in that case the soul mate connection is to teach you something. These are the relationships that are usually the most difficult and challenging. You could love passionately but end in heartbreak. You reconnect only to teach each other lessons.

Sandy: That sounds horrible. (Sandy has found the right volume for her voice but realize her voice is now quivering.)

Gypsy: Eventually you might become Twin Flames. This means you have learned from your past lives. You do have a great romance: the kind of epic, wonderful romance that we all dream about, but so few couples ever achieve with complete connection and happiness. A few souls achieve this with each other after living through several lifetimes of heartbreak.

Sandy: That sounds great. (Sandy closes her eyes. The tall cowboy in the distance had seemed so real.)

Gypsy: But you are only supposed to have it once. Then you are supposed to let go of that soul and begin the path of new learning with other souls. (Gypsy leans and stares at the fame more closely. Her face changes from bewilderment to understanding. She blows out the flame and leans back. Sandy looks at her but Gypsy does not make eye contact. She seems fatigued as if it took too much for her to have seen what she had seen. A solitary tear falls from her eye before she returns Sandy gaze. Gypsy breathes deep, seems to gather energy and sits up straight.)

Gypsy: You and this man are not content with being twin flames in one lifetime. That’s the way it is supposed to work-only once with a great true love- but for the two of you this has not been enough. Your souls have formed a psychic bond that is forcing your paths together. The answer to your question is that you have not already met, but you will within the next two days.

Sandy: (begins to hear the distant sounds of the carnival. The air returns to normal. Sandy feels as if she is emerging from a place she had not known existed) I don’t understand.

Gypsy: It is not the collective energy that drew the two of you together. Your souls simply missed each other. Neither of you are happy in love. To your souls it feels as if you already have been apart so long in this lifetime. It is as if, in your sleep, you sent your souls out into the collective energy searching for each other. I don’t quite understand because it is not supposed to work this way. The free will of your souls have altered your path and fate. The force of how much you have loved each other in a past lifetime is what is drawing you together now. I am so confused and yet it seems so simple really. You love each other. You want to see each other.

Gypsy begins to cry softly and Sandy seeks to comfort her. Sandy finds herself telling Gypsy about the poems coming to her on a blue screen, the poems and songs, and the man holding her in her arms and whispering darlin’. She hasn’t told anyone else. What does it mean? When she meets him will they fall in love? Sandy is sure at this moment that Gypsy has some power of vision.

Gypsy: Your souls are already in love. I don’t know if you are coming together just to see each other one last time or for the rest of this lifetime. It is so unusual. I just can’t see beyond the fact that you will meet within the next two days.

Sandy: I don’t know how you can be sure we will meet if it is not our destiny.

Gypsy: It’s confusing, I know, but it is now your destiny to meet. Your souls have created that shared destiny, but why or what it means? How does your destiny and free will interact in the future…that I couldn’t see no matter how hard I tried. (Gypsy takes Sandy’s hand between her two hands. Sandy’s hand betrays a bit of age wrapped in Gypsy’s youthful hands, but Gypsy seems like an old soul to Sandy now). I had a twin flame in a previous life, but it’s been many lives ago. I wish I could choose to meet him in this lifetime. Even for just a minute. It is so beautiful.

Sandy drives the girls back to Albuquerque. They are sun-burned, tired and distracted. Isadora tells her mom that Frank had kissed her and given her a little tongue, but nothing else happened. Carmen is napping in the back seat. Isadora asks her mother if she can tell her something. Sandy says yes, of course. While she is not sure she wants to hear details related to her daughter’s time with an 18 year old man, she is glad her daughter wants to talk to her. Isadora said when they slow danced she could feel it, you know, it. She said it was a little scary to think she could have that power over a boy. All she had done was dance with him. Sandy looks at Isadora. Isadora said it was scary, but her smile and her face indicates that she is having other emotions as well. Not tonight, Sandy thinks, but this week I need to have a more detailed “talk” with her. Sandy and her mother had never talked about sex. Sandy has already had two sex talks with Isadora. The first was just about basic things when she started menstruating and the second was last year to be sure she knew about safe sex. There was so much more to talk about, though, so much more.

Sandy thinks about Gypsy. They had left each other with a hug. Sandy tries to process the session. The tarot cards had been interesting. What are the odds that randomly pulling cards from a deck could be so right on? She will need to read up on that more. She likes the idea of using them for a meditative purpose. The session could have ended right there. It would have been enough. That would have been her money’s worth. Sandy tries to convince herself now the rest was theatrics and she had been caught up in the moment. She cannot stop thinking, though, about the tall cowboy in the distance. Souls searching in their sleep through the collective energy for the soul they missed? It doesn’t sound like Sandy, but it does sound like the man who wrote the poems and songs. Sandy thinks of Sammy who seems to fit the description provided by the psychic in Santa Fe, but Gypsy said she hasn’t met her soulmate yet, but will in the next two days. Would it have been too easy if the two psychic’s had seen the same thing?

She has little time the rest of the night to think through what Gypsy had told her. She drops the girls off, rushes home for a shower and goes to the bar. Fourth of July is supposed to be slow in a bar due to family time and everyone watching fire-works. She realizes as she walks the few blocks from her condominium to the bar how busy the downtown area is. The bar is packed. The bartender tells her the concert tomorrow night is sold out and the closest is booked solid for two nights with out of town travelers. She looks around and notices groups of twenty something women (wearing that same look of cowboy boots and sundresses) and groups of men of different ages. There is a lot of heavy drinking happening. It has the feel of a night far from routine. She reminds the bartender and wait staff not to over serve and to check IDs. She doesn’t want any fines on her watch. Then, she puts on her apron and begins to pour beer.

Chapter 17: We are only Human

The Lonely Players drive across a desolate landscape from Clovis to Albuquerque. Dwayne knows from other trips that, with some weather to look at, the open horizon and big sky could make for a beautiful drive. Today they have the sun beating down and nothing of interest brown to look at. The wind is slowing down the bus and they left Clovis later than Dwayne expected. It took far longer to record the “The First Time” now than it had twenty years ago with the Country Legend. He couldn’t help comparing the two recording events. Recording his first song with the legend had been the highlight of his young life up to that time. He went on to record several albums as a guitar player with the legend and several of his own songs were on those albums, but there is nothing like the first time, Dwayne thinks, understanding the irony considering the song title. Today is the first time Dwayne has recorded as the lead singer with his own band. It is the first time recording “The First Time” all over again. Twenty years apart and same song.

The primary reason it took so long was that, with the exception of Dwayne, no one else in the band had ever recorded. They were all nervous and jittery during this first time. The legend had recorded so many albums that he had a system down. Another reason it took so long is that the marketing person at the hotel didn’t want an edited version. There was to be no laying down tracks or splicing together sound. He thought it would feel more authentic if it was recorded as it was played. Dwayne wondered why they didn’t just record it live tomorrow night if that was the sound they wanted. Driving to Clovis took them a long way out of their way. The engineer was irritable about coming in on a holiday and not very helpful. The marketing director from the hotel had no recording experience. He had a sound he wanted, but struggled with putting his desires into words. They finally hit on a take where none of the band members felt they had performed too badly and where the marketing director thought the sound was raw enough. It was a lot of time invested in a one off recording which would play only on a few stations with the words produced by and hotel name ahead of it. Dwayne does think it is a novel marketing idea and that the hotel marketing director is making some smart moves to offset the potential losses from the cancellation of the other band. For Dwayne this recording is mostly for sentimental reasons. He wants a historical rendition of the way The Lonely Players are at this moment. He doesn’t know what will happen after this summer, but he knew this summer was the end of the way he had been doing things for the last five years.

Dwayne wonders again about how sick Alex really is. He shakes his head thinking about it. His best friend and they can’t even have an honest conversation about something so important. The conversation in the hotel room yesterday morning had made him think about trust, about why people might have a hard time trusting him, about why maybe they might be right not to trust him, about what he would do differently if he was ever in love again, about his own mortality, about how unlikely it would be that he would fall in love again, and about how short and how long the years would be between now and death if he lived a normal lifespan. It was a lot to think about and he was feeling melancholy when he lied down yesterday for an afternoon nap. He had a better dream, though, than he had in a while. Now he can’t stop thinking about the dream. This time the him in his blue dreams came into contact with the woman in his dreams. She was standing with her back turned and his dream self went up behind her and took her in his arms. She relaxed backwards into his dream self arms. He wished he had seen her face. For just a moment, instead of seeing himself in his dreams he became his dream self and felt her leaning into him. He saw the word trust written in white. He started to read the words underneath the word trust, but was distracted by the smell of the woman’s hair. He whispered darlin’ and woke up. It was an amazing experience to be fully in his dreams again and holding the woman he had dreamt about now for weeks.

The bus stops at a travel station called Clines Corner for a bathroom break, gas and a quick sandwich. It is mid-afternoon and a couple of more hours to drive. He sees in the convenience store area a leggy woman with strawberry blonde hair. She is standing with her back to him and holding hands with a little boy. He wonders how it would feel to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her the way he had done with the dream woman. The little boy breaks free to run to a man exiting the restroom. His father and her husband? If in his dreams he never sees the woman’s face, how would he know her if he met her? Alex is convinced she is a real woman who Dwayne will meet instead of a woman Dwayne’s imagination made up. Dwayne thinks he has imagined her, the way he had imagined the woman for whom he wrote “The First Time” years ago, to inspire some songs, but is frustrated he has not written any songs.

The band members return to the bus. They are tired and each one finds his own space. Alex stretches out for a nap. Tom puts his headphones into his tablet. Henry texts with a woman he met last night in Santa Fe to encourage her to come to Albuquerque tomorrow. The band is planning a very small pre-concert birthday celebration for Dwayne’s fiftieth. There is plenty of space on the bus today. The interns did not come with them to Clovis. They took the train from Santa Fe to south of Albuquerque this morning for a Fourth of July carnival. They had become friends with the kids who were traveling to see the band. They were all going to the carnival together. Sounds like a better way to spend the Fourth than traveling on a bus, Dwayne thinks. Dwayne likes his spot in the far back of the bus when he is songwriting. He sits in a middle seat, his guitar in the seat on the right of him, his legal pad and different color pens on the seat to the left. He thinks about the fact that it is the last day of his forties. Tomorrow he will begin the decade of his fifties. A great way to go out of this decade would be to write a song. He looks down at the legal pad filled with doodling and random patriotic phrases for which he had no corresponding rhymes. A flying eagle, an unfurled flag- he had started to try and write a patriotic song this morning because the song he wanted to write wasn’t coming to him. He wants to write about the big issues he has been thinking about: life, death, love, friendship, trust. After seeing the word trust in his dream, he had tried unsuccessfully to write a song of trust. He also knows he has a rockabilly tune inside of him. It would be great, he thinks, to end this decade writing a really great song. He has never lived up to his potential after “The First Time.” He is due another one, isn’t he? One great song every twenty years? He then thinks again that at this point a poem would be fine. He continues to sit with his guitar untouched on one side of him and his legal pad on the other.

Outside of a town called Edgewood, they stop when their driver needs a bathroom break. When the driver returns forty-five minutes later, Dwayne thinks him a bit too intoxicated to drive.

Drivers are provided by the bus company as part of the rental agreement. They are often rotated out in different cities over the course of the tour. It is a complicated driver schedule which Dwayne is glad not to have to figure out. The system has always worked great. It means the band never really knew the drivers, but it also means that everything related to pay, room, regulations regarding overtime and such was handled by the bus company and Dwayne just had to make the one payment. In this case, when the schedule had changed at the last moment to go first to Clovis and then to Albuquerque during a holiday, the bus driver who had driven them to Santa Fe was already scheduled off and a replacement was not scheduled for two days. The bus company had to scramble for a driver and Dwayne realizes now that this bus driving system might not work well with last minute changes. He had not thought of that earlier. Stranded in Edgewood on a major holiday, it had taken over an hour just to get an actual person from the bus company in LA on the phone and then they had to locate a close by available driver; close by meaning a driver had to travel to them from Clovis. They had spent hours outside a fast food restaurant in Edgewood waiting for a new driver. Band members were tired and irritable when they arrived at the hotel in Albuquerque close to 10 p.m.

Their mood turns from irritable to boisterous when they see how posh the hotel is. These accommodations are far more luxurious than those to which they are accustomed. Certainly they are better than the motel in Santa Fe. Dwayne thinks of a long hot shower and stretching out on a quality bed with breakfast delivered to the room tomorrow. The thought makes him happy. He is turning fifty in style. The hotel concierge greets them. He summons the bell hops to take control of their luggage. He gives the bell hops his master key and tells them to take the luggage right upstairs. The band has two bedroom suites and the executive loft reserved for Dwayne. The Marketing Director has driven ahead of them and has been back for hours. The concierge asks the band members to please wait in the lobby. The Marketing Director wants to speak to them before they retire for the evening.

In the lobby Dwayne and the band sees the large publicity photos from the shoot the day before. The two portraits are on easels. One is a picture of the band. Alex and Dwayne are in the middle slightly facing each other. The two younger men stand on either side of Dwayne and Alex. Dwayne holds the dulcimer and Alex his fiddle. Tom has his bass and Henry his drum sticks. The second picture is of Dwayne’s face with his cowboy hat. Dwayne has never seen his face so big and is embarrassed. At least it isn’t a picture of his ass, he thinks. Tom takes pictures of both pictures and tweets them out.

The Marketing Director comes out and shakes their hands all around. He reminds them their rooms and food are comped and each room has a complimentary bottle or two of Irish whiskey. Dwayne had been asked in a newspaper interview what his favorite alcoholic beverage was. Someone from the hotel had done their homework. Dwayne asks about tickets at the venue for tomorrow night. Did they have to refund a lot of money due to the other band canceling? The marketing manager says it had been quite a busy couple of days for everyone involved and they did have to refund some tickets, but quickly started selling them after Monday’s media campaign. Dwayne is relieved. He always wants people to earn a little cash when they book his band. The Marketing Director informs them that he came back from Clovis to find out the venue was near capacity. Dwayne asks him to repeat. They have already sold upwards of 950 tickets. Their hotel is booked to capacity. The Director is pleased with himself. His plan to offset losses has resulted in a profit.

Dwayne begins to discuss with the band the changes they might need in order to play to 1000 people: double the size of their ever largest audience. He is distracted from the attention they seem to be attracting from the bar adjacent to the lobby. There is a crowd of women staring at him. He waves to them awkwardly. Two young women with raven color hair in short shorts, T shirts and bright colored boots run over to the band. One woman turns around and raises the back of her shirt to show him the tattoo on of an eagle on her lower back. It looks fairly new. Dwayne smiles politely. There is a strong smell of alcohol coming from the women who might have been attractive if they were not so intoxicated. The woman without the tattoo is very tall. She is easily as tall as he is. Her breasts are large and it is clear she is not wearing a bra. Young ones, Dwayne thinks, barely drinking age. The one with the tattoo tells Dwayne that they are big fans. Dwayne says thanks. More people from the bar seem to be staring and he becomes concerned about a scene. He motions for a security guard. He suggests to the band that they should go to their rooms. The tall woman asks if they can come up to the room and party with them. Dwayne says no, not this time. Then both women lift their shirts over their heads to expose their breasts.

Hotel security quickly steps in to “help” the young women to put down their shirts and moves them away from the band. Another security guard suggests it would help them out if they could escort Dwayne and the band to the rooms. The four band members gather in one of the suites. They are shaking their heads and laughing while describing the women’s breasts. Alex pours them each a drink from the complimentary bottle of Irish whiskey.

Henry: Did this type of thing happened to you in the day, Dwayne, in Nashville?

Dwayne: Not to me and not to anyone in the band that I knew. Women would throw their panties and bras on stage all the time. Not at me. Well, a funny thing is one time a man threw a pair of boxer shorts on the stage and they landed at my feet. I was teased for quite a while about that.

Alex: Come on. Won’t hurt anything to share some stories of your misspent youth with us.

Dwayne: Truly, we were pretty calm in the sex department. Women who would come back stage would get back because they had drugs. That was our priority. We used a lot of cocaine. It wasn’t good. Some of the men would, you know, share the women among them, but I never was interested. I had a woman back at home. I didn’t need that.

Tom: But you don’t have a woman back at home now and you’re the star.

Dwayne: Those women have fathers, you know. You think they would like to see them acting like this.

Alex: Ok, Professor, no one asked them to show their breasts to us.

Dwayne: Hey, you guys know I like my fun. I have never hurt for companionship and I’m grateful for all the gals, you know, but we can’t let something like this take control of us. You could start thinking, especially at my age, that you need them younger or you need two to three at a time. You start adding a bottle, a little weed, a little cocaine, you start thinking you can order women from concierge services or describe what you’re looking for to the backstage security. You feel strange tonight you want one tall or really short or with a bigger butt. You feel lonesome you want someone who looks like your high school sweetheart. You start thinking about sisters or mother and daughter combinations (Dwayne realizes the three men are looking at him open mouthed). I am not telling you what I have done, but what I’ve seen done. We could call up that concierge tonight probably and have him search the bar for our specific desires and bring them up. You start thinking about women like that and pretty soon you start thinking of yourself as trash as well. Lots of ways to become obsessed and distracted when you are on the rise and on the road, but it’s not where we want to go. It’s not who we want to be.

Alex: (to lighten the mood) Ok, but if some twenty-one year old girl wants to flash her boobies at you, you don’t mind if this old man stands beside you and looks.

Dwayne laughs: Well, we are only human.

Chapter 18: Kiss me, Handsome

It is just midnight when Dwayne gets out of the shower. He ties a towel around his waist and walks out on the balcony. Fifty years old. He hadn’t thought about getting older even two weeks ago, but now all seems changed. He talked a little heavy with the guys tonight. His mood is a little dark. Fifty years old! This summer is the end of something and it is, also, the beginning. Dwayne thinks about the phrase “transitional period” as he ponders the future. Isn’t all of life transitional until death? Just feels at this age like the transitions might be getting fewer. Time to become what he is going to become as a man until he transitions into old age. What does he want the next ten to fifteen years to look like? He has free-will, doesn’t he? Can’t he decide his own fate? He can choose to pursue a career where young women expose their tits to him, media is always wanting to talk to him and he can, apparently, become as big of a star as anyone could be. He didn’t really understand this was an option until this summer. He knows he does not want that. He is sure. He could choose his quieter life of teaching college, but he would be settling. He cannot imagine now going back to the life he had just a couple of weeks ago. He wants to be a full time singer, musician, and composer. Singer? Yes, he wants to be the front man and the star of the show. He didn’t know that, either, until this summer. He needs to figure out how to have the dream, but still distance himself from the media hype and extras that comes with fame. If there is a way to be just famous enough or put the right protections around you, then maybe he could avoid some of the obsessive behaviors of the past. He is not concerned about drugs. He has that licked, but being an addict has taught him that he is capable of obsessive, destructive behaviors. There are many different ways to self-destruct. How to stay strong and healthy? His mind turns to a future love. He thinks about the blonde in his dreams. He yearns for someone.

Dwayne sees some fireworks in the distance. He hears some gun shots. People still celebrating the country’s independence. He suddenly has a craving for some homemade ice cream. He remembers an ice cream machine Dani and he had bought one summer and all the different recipes they tried. He remembers them each getting a bowl of different flavors and then switching bowls half way through. He is definitely lonely for a woman. Maybe because of his age or the girls tonight or the conversation with the guys, but he would like a woman here with him tonight. He remembers that journalist, Jackie. Her breasts compares to Carolyn’s. Hasn’t even been a week since he saw her, but for tonight –only for tonight, he wishes she was here. Long-term? Too young and too ambitious. He thinks again about the blonde in his dreams. He has freewill during this transition period. If there is one thing he could do now to change his future, what would it be? What is the most important thing he wants? To write a song! If I really had free will, I could figure out how to write a song. Fifty!

He hears sirens in the distance. He tries to figure out if they are ambulances, fire trucks, or police. He tries to put himself into someone else’s life tonight. Somewhere a person is dying. Somewhere a person is being arrested. A line from a John Donne poem comes to him “for whom the Bell Tolls.” He changes the words “asks not for whom the siren sounds, it sounds for thee.” It makes no sense really, he thinks, but it is the first creative play with words he has had in weeks. He so wants to write a song! The sirens are closer. He hurriedly puts on sweats, pulls the old Laker’s cap over his wet hair, grabs his wallet, room key, and puts on his tennis shoes without bothering with socks. He will just go see what is going on. He will follow the sound of the sirens. He laughs. It is not quite what Homer had in mind, but they are calling to him nonetheless. He picks up a little notepad and pen off the desk and puts them in his pocket. He remembers Tom telling him that when he got writer’s block, he would just try to describe something not related to the story he was writing: a garbage truck emptying the trash, a man walking his dog. Dwayne thinks he could simply write down and describe whatever scene he sees. Maybe that will help him to get the lyrics flowing again.

He takes the elevator down to the lobby, walks past the pictures of him and the band, and exits out of a side door to avoid the crowd in the bar. It isn’t hard to see where the action is. Paramedics, police officers, one ambulance with lights on pulling away, are just two straight blocks up.

He approaches the scene and sees that, whatever has happened, has been resolved. There is a man in a cowboy hat sitting in back of a police cruiser, the two young women who had previously exposed their breasts to him are being helped into a taxi by one police officer, a paramedic is treating a young man who just seems to have a bloody nose, another paramedic is shining a light in another man’s eyes and asking him to follow his fingers, a police officer has three men isolated across the street and seems to be giving each of them a sobriety test. They are in front of a bar, Duke’s. Okay, he thinks, what is the story? A bar brawl got a little out of hand; probably involved those women who left in the cab. Dwayne is thinking this seems to have all the inspirational elements he should need to write a country song. He now notices, closer to the bar door, a police officer talking to a woman. He seems to be taking her statement. Is she a witness, a bar employee? Her back is towards him. She is tall, slender, legs for days leading to a beautiful ass, strawberry blonde hair in a bun. He imagines himself helping her take down that bun. He somehow knows that her hair is long like the woman in his dreams. He has a sudden urge to walk up behind her and simply put his arms around her. She might lean back and surrender her body to his strength. He would whisper in her ear, “Darlin’, I’m sorry you are having such a hard night.” Without thinking of his actions, he has walked up next to the door. He is standing on the other side of the open bar door as he hears the police officer ask her if there was anyone who would make sure she got home safely. The police officer seems to know the woman. Through the conversation, Dwayne realizes the police officer covers this area and the woman is the manager at the bar. She is dismissive of his concern for her safety. She says lives a couple of blocks away. She would clean up and then walk home. The police officer says to call him when she is ready. He is working this area through the morning. It is not a problem to escort her home after an incident like this. Lots of people left on the streets tonight, the police officer says. Again, she is dismissive; she can take care of herself. Dwayne steps through the open door into the bar.

The bar smells of different types of alcohol mixed together. Tables and chairs, some broken, are over-turned. Glasses, some broken, are here and there on the floor. The alcohol that had been in the glasses had formed puddles on the floor and the puddles had dried quickly in the dry Albuquerque air; leaving sticky residue which would be hard to clean.

Sandy walks into the bar and comes face to face with Dwayne. He thinks to himself that she has a beautiful face and is considerably older than he had thought looking at her from the back; closer to his age. Sandy is cognizant of the fact that he is the most strikingly handsome man she has ever seen. She is, also, annoyed to find anyone in the bar. “If you are here for a drink, we’re closed”.

Dwayne’s eyes turns to look at the bar and Sandy’s eyes follow. What a mess! Two very drunk younger women wandered into the bar and she refused to serve them. When she found a table of men were coming up to the bar to buy drinks and then giving them to the women, she informed them that, if they continued, they would be cut off, also. Once the women were no longer getting drinks from that table of men, they started flirting with other men and suddenly it was a full bar brawl. Now it is 1:30 am. Her bartender had left in an ambulance. The wait staff fled. Sandy is left with the task of cleaning before she goes home. Sandy turns to Dwayne and gestures at the open door.

Sandy: As you can see, we’re not open for business and I need to lock up.

Dwayne: I turned fifty about an hour ago. Have one drink with me and I will help you to clean up. You can’t do it all by yourself, can you?

Sandy: There’s another bar up the street.

Dwayne: Is there a damsel in distress and need of help, because that’s really my thing, wandering around trying to help women who seem like they had a bad night.

Sandy: Oh, you think of yourself as a knight, do you?

Dwayne: A knight, a prince, or just a man who wants to help.

Sandy: You’re not a cowboy are you because I have had enough of cowboys to last me a lifetime.

Sandy is surprised that he is fifty. He looks younger. The thought of someone to help her is appealing and it doesn’t hurt that he is nice to look at. She closes and locks the front door and moves behind the bar. She pulls a bottle off the shelf- Agavero, a tequila liquor. It is a special bottle, but she feels she’s earned it and he just turned fifty. As she pours the drinks, she looks sideways at him to check him out. Dwayne thinks he should probably confess to the whole cowboy thing. She is joking, right? Still, he thinks it might be better not to tell her. There is something about her. He wants to know this woman better. He decides a lie of omission isn’t really a lie.

Dwayne: I teach college and write poetry. (He didn’t know why he added that last piece.)

Sandy: UNM?

Dwayne: No. I’m from California.

Sandy: Well, I work at a bar and write poetry. (This is the first time Sandy has self-described as a poet).

Dwayne: You do? I will recite mine, if you recite yours.

Sandy hands him a drink, wishes him a happy birthday, and informs him that she is much too tired for that. Dwayne takes the drink, downs it quickly and asks for an apron. Sandy smiles. Charming, kind, handsome, a poet, the soul mate thought crosses her mind, but she mentally pushes it away. He is not a cowboy! He is handsome, though. Damn! She hands Dwayne a broom and dust pan.

They get down to the work. Dwayne begins by piling all the broken chairs and tables against the wall. He tells Sandy she can be the detail crew. He will take care of the larger items. He jokingly flexes his muscles when he says that. Good biceps, thinks Sandy. She begins by picking up the broken glass. Dwayne notices Sandy keeps pushing an errant strand of hair back into her bun and eventually leaves it fallen. It reminds him of a poem he had written about Dani shortly after their divorce. He jokes with Sandy as she brings out a tray on which to pile the unbroken glasses. As she carries it to the back sink, he picks the perfect moment to yell at her not to drop it. He reaches out to steady the tray as she almost drops it and they laugh together. Dwayne is repeatedly struck, every time her back is turned, by how much she looks like the woman in his dreams. Sandy turns to say something to him as he is on his hands and knees trying to scrub up the alcohol. Nice ass! As they work, Dwayne asks Sandy how long she had worked there and is she originally from Albuquerque. She tells him about the fight at the bar and he interjects with witticisms as appropriate. He finds out she really does dislike cowboys for some strange reason. It is 3:30 am when Sandy says “enough is enough. We are done”. She thanks him for how much he has helped. Dwayne notices Sandy looking at his hands as he squeezes out the mop.

Dwayne: You can ask outright. No wedding ring- not for twenty years now and no current attachments.

Sandy: Not quite the way you would want to spend your birthday.

Dwayne: Well, there’s a lot more of it left.

Sandy hands him a bottled water and he follows her to the back office. She collapses into the comfortable office chair and he sits on the floor beside her. Sandy asks him how he spent the fourth. He sighs and tells her traveling. He had just gotten into the hotel at 10 p.m. It had been a long day.

Dwayne: And you?

Sandy: It started this morning –I guess yesterday morning now- with me taking my teenage daughter and her friend to a carnival.

Dwayne: And her father?

Sandy: Not in the picture. No serious attachments at this time.

Dwayne: I love getting the relationship status talk out of the way.

Sandy: You are just traveling through? How long will you stay?

Dwayne: I roll out on Thursday.

Dwayne had avoided answering questions which would reveal his “cowboy” affiliation. He realizes Sandy’s next question was bound to be why he was in town. Searching for some way to change the subject and still distracted by the strand of hair which has escaped Sandy’s bun, he tells her his ex-wife was in food service and always wore her hair in a bun. Her hair was dark and she always had that one strand of hair which wouldn’t stay in place. After their divorce, he had felt bad about how hard she had worked to support him through school and it was hard not to think of her in her uniform with her hair in a bun and that one hair strand. He wrote a poem about it, then, and had been thinking about it all night while looking at Sandy’s hair.

Errant Strand of Hair

It strays from your hair clip

Seeking to caress your cheek.

You push it away a time or two

Before letting it rest, curled,

Not because you want it there,

But because you have given up

On putting it back in its place.

I could be content to be that

Errant strand of hair.

He is a poet, she thinks, who has been in love and he is so handsome. Soulmate? No, not a cowboy. She is relieved. She is too tired to deal with meeting her soulmate this morning. She touches the strand of hair which has fallen out of her bun. What does it matter if or when she will ever meet a soulmate? He is in town for a couple of nights only and is clearly looking for some fun. He is so handsome. She unclips her bun. She lets her hair flow down and lowers her head. The bottom of her long hair is hanging in front of Dwayne. He notices it is redder than blonde underneath. She runs her finger through it massaging her scalp and then flips it back straightening it down with her hands. Dwayne notices her hair has many different colors; strands of red and some grey mingling, highlighting the blonde. She has to know, he thinks, how sexy that was; especially after my poem. She is flirting or teasing me.

Dwayne: Is your hair its natural color?

Sandy: Never dyed or highlighted. It was red when I was a child, but has turned blonde with age.

Dwayne thinks of the teenager in his dream with the red hair.

Dwayne: Have you always worked in food service?

Sandy: I was a professional dancer when younger-modern dance- don’t go thinking I was on the pole or anything.

Dwayne raises his eyebrows suddenly struck by an image of her pole dancing, but his mind quickly goes to the images in his dreams. Can it possibly be? Sandy wonders if he will ever make a move.

Sandy: Your poem was beautiful. You must have loved your wife.

Dwayne: I did at one time. Then, I didn’t and I hurt her. Now the love and hurt and regret all seems to be one emotion.

Sandy: I have never been in love.

Dwayne: Not your daughter’s father?

Sandy: No. I don’t think I believe really in love.

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Each is exhausted from the activities of the fourth. Here it is four a.m. on the fifth and neither has slept. Each wants to find comfort in the other, but are unsure how to begin.

Dwayne: It’s your turn. I think I’ve earned a little piece of your poetry.

Sandy: My poems are all written in a male’s voice.

Dwayne: Interesting.

Sandy finds herself repeating the first verse of “An Uncommonly Handsome Man”. It is the first time she has recited this poem to anyone else, but she has repeated it many times in her head. As she says the first few sentences, Dwayne realizes it is a poem about flirtation. She is giving him an undeniable sign. He rises to his knees and swivels her chair towards him. They are looking eye to eye when she says the line, “Though your eyes say.” She stops unable to go on. She is staring in his eyes which seem a little darker than before. He stares back at her. He is aware that this is a moment of passion, but he is struck by the unusual nature of this poem. He wants to hear more. He prompts her, “Though your eyes say”. She whispers “kiss me, handsome”. She swallows hard after saying it. Dwayne whispers “then what?” Sandy says, “Well, babe, you are only human. You will take me tonight as I am.” Dwayne leans in for a kiss. Sandy closes her eyes and lifts her mouth eagerly. As his lips are about to touch hers, Dwayne thinks that she could be the woman from his dream and he is about to kiss her. Then, the thought comes, he has met her and told her a lie. He sighs and pushes himself up off the floor. He wants to be honest with her before he kisses her. He thinks to himself that surely she was joking about the cowboy thing. He doesn’t know why, but suddenly he wants to tell her all about himself. He wants her to know every detail of who he is and what his heart yearns for before he kisses her. He cannot be satisfied with casual sex with her. This relationship is not going to be casual. If she is the woman in his dreams, it cannot be casual. Sandy opens her eyes in surprise when he didn’t kiss her. Sandy feels as if sharing her poem with him exposed herself to him as vulnerable. Vulnerability is something she does not usually share so easily with a man. She feels rejected. What would have been a better opportunity to kiss her?

Dwayne: I haven’t been completely honest.

Sandy: You are married or attached.

Dwayne: No- I haven’t lied to you, exactly. I just haven’t told you everything.

Sandy: You’re gay.

Dwayne: I most certainly am not. It’s funny really. I’m kind of a cowboy. I write country songs. I’m a musician songwriter. I’m also a college professor. So now you know my secret.

Sandy thinks to herself that he is the one coming to her when she sleeps. He is tall, rugged, uncommonly handsome, a poet and a country songwriter. Soul-mate! Except her soulmate just rejected her. He also started out lying to her. She also thinks that he should have been wearing a cowboy hat instead of a Laker’s cap so she would have known right off who he was. Irrationally she feels betrayed because he had not disclosed up front that he was her soulmate and was planning to sweep her off her feet. God damn him!

There can have been no worse time for fate, if that is what it is, to have brought him to her. She is exhausted. Her last nerve is frayed. She wonders what she must look like. Is that why he hadn’t kissed her? She wonders how much he might know about her being his soulmate. Has he been hearing her thoughts in his sleep? What was the point in their souls coming together? Just so he could lie to her? Just her luck that the soul mate she had loved over life times would be a fucking asshole. Sandy finds herself getting scared and going into a defensive fight mode. What does actually meeting him mean? She is afraid of giving up her independence. Maybe after living lifetimes with this asshole, she is supposed to live alone and now he is here to screw that up. She remembers the obsession she had felt for Isadora’s father. Damn, Dwayne, to be her soulmate and to be so ridiculously handsome. Would she fall into a similar obsession? She was furious at Dwayne and at fate because Dwayne was so handsome. It does not make sense for a man to be that handsome at his age. Yes, she likes handsome well enough, but this guy is like movie star handsome. How could she exercise free will and stay independent if he is her soul mate and so good-looking? She becomes more and more infuriated. She hadn’t asked for any of it: not a soul mate, not poems or songs, not having to go to regression hypnosis or seeing a fortune teller. It is a violation, she thinks, him entering my brain without my permission.

Dwayne has been standing for a while expecting her response. He wonders what she could be thinking about so long in her pretty head. He sees her face seems to be getting flushed. “Darlin’?” Sandy recognizes the voice when he says the word. It sends her over the edge.

Sandy: You’re the asshole playing the dulcimer and wearing the cowboy hat and eagle shirt, aren’t you?

Dwayne: (surprised by her strong reaction) Well, I’m not an asshole.

Sandy: Oh my god, you’re the reason the fight happened tonight.

Dwayne (at a loss for why she is so angry): How did I cause the fight?

Sandy: Because all these damn cowboys are in town for you and you got them all inflamed, on the Fourth of July no less, with patriotism and testosterone and the myth, the myth of the Western motif. You know, it’s all a myth and you are manipulating and exploiting the myth. You are smart, kind, charming, funny and handsome and so all the men want to be like you, but you’re not real. You don’t exist in the real world.

Dwayne (feeling like he should defend himself): Wait I, I, I don’t even know how to respond because I don’t know what I’m being accused of. I’m a singer/songwriter. Yes, I play the dulcimer and wear a cowboy hat. I do exist. I’m real. I can tell you for a fact I exist.

Sandy: But you know what you are doing. Those poor young girls tonight that are so taken with you. I heard them talking to the men tonight about you. They are so infatuated.

Dwayne: I know they showed their tits to me (why did I say that?)

Sandy: Well, like it’s their fault you are so fucking handsome.

Dwayne: Well… thank you. (Strangest argument ever)

Sandy: Get the hell out of here. (She unlocks and holds the back door open)

Dwayne: (Can she be serious?) I need to understand. I thought we had something going here. I thought you were into me.

Sandy: Into you? Why would I be into you? You are the least desirable man I have ever met. There’s no way I would ever fuck you. (Why did she go there?)

Dwayne: Let’s just say I wanted to fuck you, what is the reason you wouldn’t?

Sandy: (Sandy lets the door slam.) Because you’re so handsome. It’s like a cliché, and all that charm and being kind. Then, you’re a college professor and you write poetry on top of that-so you’re smart! (I am making no sense. He is so handsome, I can’t think.)

Dwayne: You wouldn’t have sex with me because I’m smart, kind, funny, charming and handsome. Those traits, in your mind, make me unfuckable.

Sandy: It’s because you know you are all of those things. It’s pretty arrogant for you to think that every woman you meet wants to have sex with you. You can just snap your fingers and we are supposed to fall into your arms. Guys like you…

Dwayne: (Guys like me!) Come on, babe, you are only human.

Sandy: (How dare he throw those words back at me?) You might come across as perfect, but there must be something else seriously wrong with you. (She tries to think of an insult). Cowboy!

Dwayne: Why don’t you like cowboys? I don’t actually work on a ranch with cows, you know.

Sandy: That’s why it’s a myth. You wear the cowboy hat and the eagle shirt and because we are programmed to believe cowboys are handsome and noble, we think you are attractive. But you are not really a cowboy and so by manipulating the image you are actually ugly and repulsive. You just try to get us to think you’re a cowboy, so we will have sex with you.

Dwayne: Well I’m not playing the role of a cowboy tonight. I am in sweats and a cap and tennis shoes. I am just a guy who showed up at your door and saw you needed help. Yet, you still thought I was handsome. Your eyes still said you wanted to kiss me.

Sandy: You didn’t help me out to be a good guy. All that damsel in distress stuff. You just wanted to get me in the sack.

Dwayne: You think I need to spend two hours cleaning to bed a woman? I have women walking up to me and showing me their tits. (Why do I keep bringing that up?) I don’t need to play games to get people in bed.

Sandy: So you didn’t want to get me in the sack? Good, then no harm done.

Dwayne: (I absolutely want to go to bed with her. Why am I fighting with her instead?) I wanted to get to know you because I thought you were beautiful. That’s why I walked into the bar and then you needed my help. I am glad I helped because it was fun to be with you. Your poem, you’re so talented. I wanted to kiss you. I didn’t because I wanted to be sure I was completely honest with you before I kissed you.

Sandy: (If he had just kissed me, we wouldn’t be fighting). Why? Why was it so important to be honest? We don’t mean anything to each other. It would have just been as easy to take me right here on the floor as to stop and be honest with me. You could have just kissed me.

Dwayne (incredulous that she is angry because he was trying to be honest with her.) I wanted to be honest because I am actually a good guy and that myth of the cowboy as honest and true may be a myth, but I believe in honesty and truth. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings by not kissing you. I would love to kiss you now.

Sandy: Fuck you! Do you think I need you to kiss me? I have a man on the side I can call anytime and I have another man I’m going on a date with tonight to see your show.

Dwayne: Why are you coming to the show if you hate cowboys in general and apparently me in particular so much?

Sandy: To make fun of the people who come to see you because they believe in all that crap. I bet you have all kinds of love songs about true love and love at first sight and all that sentimental hogwash crap. (None of that soulmate stuff is true or we wouldn’t be in this argument.)

Dwayne: Yes, that’s the kind of asshole I am. I believe in love. I have a song about making love to a woman for the first time and thinking that, yes, we might have lived before. It’s actually quite famous: “It’s the First time.” Heard of it? (Everybody’s heard of it. It is that famous.)

Sandy: No, I don’t like songs with words. I am more of a classical music fan myself. It sounds really lame, though. Can’t wait to hear it tonight and laugh at it.

Dwayne: (Bitch) You are a mean spirited woman. What kind of person doesn’t like love songs? What kind of person goes to a concert just to make fun of people who likes the music?

Sandy: A woman who doesn’t need a knight or a prince or a cowboy.

Sandy opens the back door to the bar and Dwayne walks out. Sandy has won the fight. She bursts into tears. She is as sad as she has ever been. She successfully pushed her one chance at true love away. She shakes her head. This cannot be right. All of this soulmate stuff has been a load of crap. How could she have believed in any of it?

Dwayne finds himself in an alley. The smell from the trash is of a mixture of alcohol, cigarettes, composting coffee grinds, and other things he doesn’t want to imagine. He has a gag reaction which shakes him into reality. He shakes his head. That woman is just nuts! He thinks that for a woman who found him unfuckable, she certainly was upset that he didn’t kiss her. It didn’t make sense. Certainly, she is not the woman in his dreams. He can push that out of his mind forever. He realizes that by arguing about his looks they were role playing the poem. He thinks about how similar the poem had been to the discussion he had with the journalist following their first night together. Damn! He liked the poem. He wishes he had heard all of it. It is the darkest time of the day; the time right before dawn begins. He walks through the ally and sees a homeless man by the trash can. Damn! Dwayne remembers the policeman telling Sandy she shouldn’t walk home alone. She is so stubborn. He knows she is going to walk home alone unless he walks with her.

Dwayne walks to the front door of the bar and waits for Sandy to walk out. He breathes in and out trying to tell himself just to stay calm. Doesn’t matter what she thinks of him. Only thing that matters is he makes sure she gets home safe. I can’t control her; only how I respond to her. Sandy opens the door and looks at him. She walks out, locks the door and turns to look at him again. Dwayne can tell she has been crying. He thinks of the woman in his dreams. She looks like her, he remembers, even though he doesn’t believe it is her. Was she so upset that he hadn’t kissed her?

Dwayne: I’m going to walk you home to make sure you’re safe. If you tell me no, I will follow you until I know you’re safe. I know it is the thing a knight would do and you don’t need one, but, at least you know I’m not doing it to get you in the sack, because we both know that’s not going to happen.

Sandy: We agree on that.

They walk in silence for a few minutes. Sandy is embarrassed by how she acted. She wonders if it is possible to salvage any of her dignity tonight. With the release of her tears, her mood has changed from anger and frustration to regret and loneliness.

Sandy: Thank you for helping me tonight. It was nice of you.

Dwayne: Well, thank you for the birthday drink.

Sandy laughs: Yeah, well, happy birthday.

Dwayne: The rest of the day can only get better from here.

Sandy: (He doesn’t know I might be his soulmate.) What do you think you would do if you met her?

Dwayne: Who?

Sandy: The woman in your song; the one you have sex with for the first time and realize you had loved each other in another life time.

Dwayne: Unfortunately, I would likely break her heart. It would be like my ex-wife, I’m sure. I wouldn’t want to hurt her, but I would.

Sandy understands why he says this. From her dreams, she knows him and she knows how afraid he is to hurt another woman. She realizes that is the reason he had stopped before he kissed her to tell her the truth. He was trying to avoid hurting her. How horribly she had responded to him. Yet, he still wants to make sure she gets home safe. She thinks he might be a true knight and she is just a witch.

Sandy: I will look forward to hearing the song.

Dwayne laughs: Looking forward to making fun of it?

Sandy: Seriously. I’m sorry. I have no good explanation for tonight. I just don’t know how to act when people are nice to me. I’m used to taking care of myself.

They stop at the stairs which leads up to her condominium. Dwayne thinks how tired she looks. Her body language is similar to the time he had seen the woman in his dreams looking so defeated. He doesn’t want to leave her feeling sad. There is still that something about her. It is beyond beauty. He wishes he could have a do over and meet her again. He wants to prolong their time together. Dawn is just breaking.

Dwayne: I liked your poem. Is there more of it?

Sandy: Yes. It is a poem you might be able to appreciate based on what you just said about breaking someone’s heart.

Dwayne: Let me hear it.

Sandy recites the rest of the lines. At first Dwayne is smiling, but by the end of the poem, he is staring in her eyes; contemplating how she has written this poem which seems to speak from his soul.

Dwayne: I was thinking of this recently. How a woman looks at you as a knight for a while and then as a lowlife ever after. I was thinking of this very thing. It’s so uncanny. How would you know so well what a man experiences? It’s like you have been inside my brain.

Sandy: (You have been in mine). Do you really believe in love?

Dwayne: Yes. I have been in love. It is so wonderful to be in love, but I’ve never been able to make it work. Have you really never been in love?

Sandy: No…No. I have been thinking a lot about soul mates and destiny and why I haven’t been in love. Maybe I am mean spirited.

Dwayne: No. Maybe you are just afraid because there are so many assholes out there like me.

Sandy: No. You’re wonderful. I know you are. I am just an idiot.

Dwayne: No, actually, you are right. I have so often been an ass to women I love. I have been fortunate enough to have love, but I always screwed it up. The last thing a woman should ever do is fall in love with me.

There are tears in Sandy’s eyes. She knows that this is the man who “gave” her the poem he was so moved by hearing. She knows Gypsy was right. Here is my soul mate in front of me and in this life we only have tonight and may not see each other in future lives. She has never wanted to believe so much in love. Dwayne sees the tears. He doesn’t quite know what to do or say. She was so angry just a short while ago. What has she been through in her life? How can a woman this beautiful and passionate never fall in love? Why do I feel so drawn to her? What kind of chance or twist of fate has us standing here together tonight? He leans forward and kisses her good-bye.

Section 7: Then I met you

Sentimental hogwash crap

We learned in books and song.

Love sick movies full of sap:

“I am where I belong”

Does love at first sight really exist?

“You are the only one.”

When it comes to love I’m a realist

We’re just in love until we’re done.

Then I met you, by golly.

Then I met you, my one and only.

Then I met you, my true love

Darlin’, then I met you.

Love the one you’re with I’ve heard.

I’m Mr. Right for right now.

Even I love you is absurd

You say faithful, I ask how.

Don’t think I don’t appreciate

All the gals I’ve had.

I’ve never thought here’s soul mate,

Just get too close and that’s your bad.

Then I met you, by golly.

Then I met you, my one and only.

Then I met you, my true love.

Darlin’, then I met you.

I saw you from across the room.

I’m looking at you now.

When you come over, I am doomed.

That’s when I say- oh, this is how.

Please don’t look into my eyes,

If you do I’m lost.

What before I thought all was lies,

Now I will fight for at all cost.

Cause I met you, by golly.

Cause I met you, my one and only

Cause I met you, my true love

Darlin’, cause I met you.

Chapter 19: Worthy of Trust

“He’s gone,” is Sandy’s first thought upon awakening. Dwayne kissed her this morning, sweetly and softly, and then simply said good-bye and walked away. The soul she had loved in another lifetime, she thought, as she watched him walk away. Maybe, in this lifetime, we just needed one last farewell kiss. This soulmate, now that she has met him, is gone from her sleeping hours as well. There will be no more poems or songs. She feels an emptiness unlike any she has felt before. She is profoundly sad. She almost wishes she had never met him so he could continue to come to her in his sleep, but that is so selfish. She thinks about what a kind and caring man he is. She hopes he finds some love in this lifetime. As for her…well, she has never needed romantic love, has she?

Then, why is she so sad? She thinks about seeing him on stage tonight. She thinks about canceling her date before realizing that she has never heard him sing. She should, at least, hear him sing. She doesn’t feel like getting out of bed. She just wants to roll over and cover her head with a blanket.

Sandy hears Isadora and Juanita’s voices. She looks at the clock. 11:30 am already. She realizes that the voices coming from the living room are raised in disagreement and she drags herself out of bed to investigate.

Juanita: Our fifteen year old daughters are dating adult men.

Sandy: The boys from yesterday?

Juanita: They have been on the phone texting and tweeting all night and again this morning. Do you know those boys are following some country band around?

Sandy: The Lonely Players?

Juanita: How do you know?

Sandy: I have a date to go see them tonight.

Juanita (raising her eyebrows): Well that’s a discussion for another time. These boys have been hired temporarily to help with the set-up tonight because it’s a bigger concert than usual. They want the girls to come watch rehearsals.

Isadora: It’s right here just a few blocks away and it’s sold out for tonight so we can’t go to the show. We just want to go see the band rehearse.

Juanita: Sandy, the one Carmen has been talking to is twenty years old. I cannot let her go without a chaperone, but I don’t have a sitter for the younger kids.

Sandy: What time is rehearsal?

Isadora: 1:30.

Sandy: I can take them. I’m off today. Bring Carmen over here and we can walk from here and the girls can hang out the rest of the afternoon and evening. Carmen can spend the night here. Don’t worry – they will be ok. I met these boys. It’s ok.

After Juanita leaves, Sandy tells Isadora they have to talk. She sits across from her daughter. Sandy looks at Isadora’s hair which reminds her so much of Isadora’s father. She grabs her own long hair in a tail by the right hand and tries to tame it with her left. Isadora is in jeans and a plain white shirt. She is not wearing make-up. She looks much younger than she did the day before. Sandy thinks about how some times she can look and act so old and other times so young.

Sandy: How interested is Carmen in this 20 year old man?

Isadora: Fred? Not so much. I really like Frank. He’s only 18.

Sandy: We will talk about you in a minute.

Isadora: She isn’t into Fred very much at all. She has a huge crush on the singer in the band, but he is way old. Really good looking, though, but you know how you sometimes just get a crush on a singer or movie star. He is movie star handsome. She has watched his online video like a zillion times. She just wants to meet him.

Sandy: Of course, she has a crush on the singer.

Isadora: He sings this really romantic song about the first time…well, you know, and we’ve talked about how we should wait until it’s with someone that special, but if you saw him, you would know why she wants to meet him.

Sandy: She’s not going to flash him her breasts?

Isadora: Mom…why would you even say that?

Sandy: Let’s talk about you and Frank.

Isadora (Interrupting Sandy attempting to reassure her) I know he is eighteen and I’m fifteen and he could get into all kinds of trouble. We talked about it on the phone last night and he is willing to wait until I’m older, but I want to spend as much time together as I can. He leaves tomorrow.

Sandy: (Alarmed instead of reassured) You’ve known him 24 hours. You already had a conversation about sex?

Isadora: Just because of his age. I know we haven’t known each other long and we’re young, but how do I know he’s not the one? Wouldn’t it be sad if I met my soul mate and let him go because I was too young? You know when I’m eighteen, he will be 21. Then the age won’t matter. How do I know if he’s the one if I don’t at least try to get to know him better?

Sandy: Soulmate?

Isadora: I know it sounds crazy, but it seems so right. Just like that song- it feels comfortable, as if we’ve lived before. Besides, isn’t it better for me to be with him when we can’t do anything, then a guy my age when we could?

Sandy: I need to make sure you understand some things. It is always ok for a girl to say no-even if there has been some heavy petting, even if she has been drinking, or the guy is really aroused or she said yes and is changing her mind- a girl can always say no.

Isadora nods. Her eyes are wide. She appears at this moment much younger to Sandy than fifteen. Isadora knows it is her mom’s honest, straight forward approach that has given her knowledge and self-confidence beyond her years. She is so lucky to have the Mom she has. This is one of those talks. Isadora tells herself that, if her mother is willing to treat her as a mature young woman, she had better listen and take her advice seriously.

Sandy: It’s also true that when a guy gets aroused, it can be difficult for him to cool it down. You mentioned feeling “It” when you and Frank danced, so if you were kissing or petting, imagine how aroused he can become, if he can become that aroused by dancing. Girls can turn it off easier. A girl can always say no- doesn’t matter how aroused a boy is, but it is sometimes up to the girl to slow it down before it goes too far. Especially, if she really cares about the guy. Even if he says he will wait, in the moment, you both could get carried away and, in his case, it’s a crime, so even kissing becomes a risk because, baby, sometimes it’s hard to stop in the moment. You will need to be really careful it just doesn’t go anywhere close to that far.

Isadora reaches out and hugs her mother. Sandy holds onto Isadora tightly. Isadora is so young and, yet, in a blink of an eye, she will be 18. Sandy wishes she could slow down time. Instead as they break their embrace, Isadora’s expression is serious and mature.

Isadora: Mom, I asked Juanita to tell me what she knew about my father.

I know you didn’t want to talk to me about it. The thing is, there’s a girl in my school, and her father is just a sperm donor. Her mother never met him. It was, you know, done in a doctor’s office. There’s this other guy whose mothers are lesbians and he says he knows the sperm donor. He’s a friend, but not a dad. I think it’s different in my day than yours. It can sometimes be more complicated biologically, but in some ways the emotional part is easier because it’s about who is in your life. My father never wanted to know me so, whatever he was to you, to me he is just a sperm donor. You had options, too, but you chose to have me and love me. You didn’t have to. Do you know how special I feel because you decided to have me even though it was going to be so hard for you? I promise I will be careful, Mom, and I know I have a lot of time.

Sandy thinks that she has raised a beautiful, wise and mature young woman. In an instant and, in a way so typical of Isadora, her expression becomes vulnerable and Sandy sees her little girl still before her. Sandy realizes Isadora might always have a hint of the vulnerable little girl even after she is grown. Isadora takes her right hand, holds her long, dark hair in a tail and strokes the tail for a few minutes with her left hand. Then she let her hair drops against her face.

Isadora: The only thing is that it would have been nice, somewhere along the way, to have had a man around; even if he wasn’t my biological father. Someone to see you happy with and, maybe, to be there for me. I would have liked a male presence.

Sandy: (Knowing that her daughter is owed an explanation and, perhaps recognizing the truth for herself for the first time) I think I was afraid that, if I would bring a guy into our lives, that he might not love you as much as you deserved and that you would feel rejected somehow. I never felt like I was good enough for my parents or that they loved me. I guess I thought I could give you enough love so you would never feel rejected and I didn’t want to take a chance with anyone else.

Isadora: You have given me so much love. That’s why I feel so confident in love. I will be in love with Frank or someone else because you have prepared me to receive love. Mom, I’m old enough now for you to not worry so much about me. I would like to see you in love. (Isadora not add her final thought…and I would still like a father).

11:30 a.m. Dwayne sits straight up in bed. For the first time in weeks, he has not had a blue dream. He did dream of her…the woman from last night, but not in a world of blue. The blue dreams are gone. He hasn’t slept much at all- just a couple of hours. Yet he feels a lightness he has not had in some time. He is fifty. There are no more blue dreams and, most importantly, he wrote a song. He had been wanting to write a rockabilly tune. He walked home thinking about Sandy and how cynical she was about life in general and love in particular. The phrase she had used “sentimental hogwash crap” was one he liked and thought he could do something with. What if he reversed it and made the man the one who doesn’t believe? As he walked through the lobby of the hotel and saw the pictures again of him and the band, he thought of the word: Player. This guy could be a player who doesn’t believe and had a lot of gals, but then he meets the one who makes him believe. The song came to him just that quickly and, within a couple of hours, he had the lyrics and music written. He had the same feeling he had when he wrote “The First Time.” This was a fun song, but it was good! Finally, he wrote a song! Then, he fell asleep and had a real dream.

He dreamt he was back with Sandy in the bar. Her eyes said, “kiss me, handsome” and, instead of stopping, he had kissed her and pulled her down on the floor on top of him and…it was a nice dream. Probably what he should have done if he had a brain, but, Hell, how would she had felt tonight when she came to the concert, if he hadn’t told her? Can you imagine? He would have made love to her and then she would have come to the concert and would really think he was a lowlife. Not that he needs to worry about what she thinks, but you don’t want to hurt a woman. She was all over the place last night as it was. Angry because he was handsome and then all tears at the end. He really thought she got him early in the evening. This cowboy as a myth thing-where did that come from? Then, claiming she didn’t want to fuck him, but all upset because he hadn’t kissed her. Still, she was beautiful; stubborn and independent, but with a vulnerability- as if a little girl inside of her had never grown up. He could definitely see a softness and vulnerability, but she hides it. Probably has had to be tough for her daughter. She wasn’t easy to read. He really liked that poem. Almost as if she had looked into his very soul. Well, he hopes she enjoys the show. The important thing isn’t that he dreamt of her, but that he hadn’t dreamt in blue!

Sandy has a good talk with Carmen before they go to the theater. Fred is twenty. Carmen confirms what Isadora had told Sandy. She could barely be bothered with anyone except the lead singer. She knows he is way old – like obviously it would never happen anyway, but he is so handsome. He has such strong arm muscles, his eyes and his lower lip! Sandy has to agree. Maybe there is some destiny in the fact that Sandy’s daughter met Frank. Sandy wants to see Dwayne again! She thinks that she shouldn’t see him, but she wants to. What would it hurt to talk to him one more time?

Isadora texts Frank while walking up to the theater. He comes out and greets them. He is shy around Sandy and Sandy finds herself wondering how to keep him just a little afraid of her. He tells them the band has been practicing a new song and it is great! Something you can really dance to- a little different- not so much country. Carmen actually jumps up and down a little and Sandy is relieved to see there is still childlike innocence with these kids. They walk in and Frank’s brother, Fred, comes to say hello. In fact, Carmen does not seem interested. Her eyes are on the stage. Dwayne’s back is turned to them and he is shaking that fifty year old ass. Sandy laughs at Carmen and the group moves closer to the stage. Without turning around, Dwayne says into the microphone “We are going to do it one more time. Now, boys, I need some beat. I can’t move Alex for any additional percussion because he needs to play the guitar because really I have to move my ass for this one, but we need some beat. It’s a dance song. Ok. Let’s go.” He sings the entire song with his back to what he thinks is an empty theater and moves from band member to band member encouraging them to get with the rhythm. Sandy finds herself enjoying it as much as the kids. His singing voice is unique. It is as deep as his speaking voice with a gravelly and slight nasal sound. When the song is over, the five “audience” members clap and make whooping noises. Dwayne turns around and his eyes are immediately drawn to Sandy. He opens his arms wide. He has a sense of overwhelming relief at seeing her again.

Dwayne: Sandy, I wrote a song. I used your phrase “sentimental hogwash crap”. What do you think?

Sandy is happy to see him and pleased he seems happy to see her. Isadora and Carmen are looking at her in stunned admiration. Sandy feels 15 herself. She knows the handsome band leader and, seeing him again, she once again is reminded how handsome he is.

Sandy: I love it.

Dwayne: Pshaw. No you don’t and you will probably make it a point to tell me so later if you get the chance. Why are you here? (He hands the microphone to Alex and jumps off the stage. He walks over to the group.)

Sandy: Seems my daughter and her friend are fans of yours.

Dwayne takes Isadora’s hand and asks Sandy, “your daughter?” Sandy nods. Dwayne looks at Frank. “This is the young woman you told me about?” Frank nods.

“I am very good friends with her mother. You behave yourself.” Frank mutters, “yes, sir” and Frank and Isadora walk away holding hands. Dwayne says to Sandy, “I was married when I was his age.”

Dwayne turns to Carmen. Carmen closes her eyes and lets out a high pitched, but soft spoken hello. She opens her eyes when Dwayne takes her hand and kisses it. He asks her for the privilege of having a picture taken. Carmen is beaming when Sandy takes the picture on her phone. On a whim, Sandy asks him if she could take a picture with him as well. Dwayne laughs “if only I had my cowboy hat for this one.” He asks a passing intern to take a picture with Sandy’s phone and holds up his arm for Sandy to slide beside him. “What are the odds your daughter would fall for the President of my fan club?” Dwayne issues a stern warning to Fred and Fred and Carmen wanders off -not holding hands. Dwayne and Sandy are left alone to gaze at each other.

Dwayne: I dreamt about you this morning, Darlin’.

Sandy: I didn’t. (Sandy doesn’t think about how it sounds until she says it. She was sad that she had not woken with a song or poem. She blurted it out without meaning to hurt Dwayne.)

Dwayne: Ouch, put me right back in my place. Well, do you want to meet the band?

After a few minutes on stage talking, Dwayne suggests the band can take a break. He asks Tom and Henry if they would check on “the kids.” Alex stays. Dwayne gives Alex a get the hell out of here look which Alex ignores. Alex smiles at Sandy.

Dwayne: You don’t want to go?

Alex: Check my emails, send out a few tweets. No, I can hang with the grownups. You sure are pretty. (Alex looks at Sandy. Dwayne hits him playfully on the chest.)

Sandy: Oh, that’s pretty. Far prettier than the one I have. (Sandy walks over to a table off stage where some instruments are laying and picks up Dwayne’s dulcimer.)

Alex: Oh, you have a dulcimer do you? (He looks at Dwayne with a wry face.)

Sandy: I’ve been trying to teach myself to play it.

Alex: Why? (Dwayne slaps him again.)

Sandy: I’ve written a couple of songs and wanted a way to play them.

Dwayne: You’re a song writer as well as a poet?

Sandy: Not really. I’ve written two songs. Country songs. (She mumbles the last two words.)

Dwayne puts his hands on his hips: You write country songs and you play the dulcimer?

Sandy: I know. Everything I said to you last night, I was wrong. I wish I could go back and just not say any of it. I feel so embarrassed.

There is an awkward silence. Alex breaks it.

Alex: Did he tell you he wrote his doctorate dissertation on the dulcimer?

Sandy: No, but he did say he was a college professor.

Another long, awkward silence.

Alex: I would love to hear one of your songs.

Dwayne: Please.

Sandy is afraid to play “Blue”. It seems like it has so many details about what may be Dwayne’s life and she doesn’t want to explain. She decides to play “Bliss”. Alex whistles in appreciation as she finishes.

Alex: She is a song-writer. Might be as good as you, Dwayne.

Sandy: It should be sung lower. I can’t get my voice low enough.

Alex: Dwayne can. (Dwayne hits him in the chest again)

Dwayne: The myth of bliss? Sounds like this man whose voice you write in believes in true love even if you don’t.

Alex: Wouldn’t you like to hear Dwayne sing your song?

Sandy keeps her head down. She doesn’t want Dwayne to see tears in her eyes again. She thinks to herself that the song really belongs to him. He is the one who believes in Bliss. If she could hear him sing it…! The thought of it almost makes her heart stop. She doesn’t answer or raise her head. Alex hits the back of Dwayne’s head with his hand.

Dwayne: Of course, I will, if want me to. You can teach it to me now and the band can take lunch.

Alex: I will go tell them we’re adding yet another song for dulcimer.

An hour later, Dwayne knows the song and has played and sang it to his and Sandy’s satisfaction. They have spent this hour as if on egg shells with each other; as if they each think the other person is fragile. The hour goes by with them barely talking and talking in soft whispers when they did. There has been many moments of eye contact. There is a moment when Sandy is playing the dulcimer and Dwayne could tell the hair falling in her eyes is irritating her. He reaches out and brushes it back for her behind her ear. Such a simple gesture, but it seems so intimate as he does it. They both remember the poems they recited to each other just a few hours ago. Dwayne is amazed by the look in Sandy’s eyes as he sings the song she wrote. She seems so happy to hear his voice.

Dwayne: I will need to make arrangements to pay you for the use of this song.

Sandy: It’s a birthday gift.

Dwayne: I can’t do that.

Sandy: Please. It will make me so happy to hear it tonight. You can’t know how much.

Sandy looks away, but not before Dwayne sees the tears. He leans forward to whisper in her ear, pulling her hair away with his right hand and grabbing her leg with his left hand.

Dwayne: Who are you? The woman who hates cowboys or the dulcimer playing song writer? The woman with tears in her eyes at hearing my voice or the woman throwing me out of the bar for being too much of a knight? Who are you?

Sandy: Handsome and repulsive both.

Dwayne: I can live with that. I can understand that. I could fall in love with that. I swear I can.

Sandy: You leave tomorrow.

Dwayne: Let’s get together after the show.

Sandy: I’m coming with a date.

Dwayne: (He is so happy to see her again. He feels such a strong connection. There has to be a bit of fate involved, doesn’t there?). Not again. We are not going to just walk away from each other again. Can’t you feel what’s between us?

They look in each other’s eyes. What Dwayne sees reflected is everything he wants to see. Why is she so stubborn? Sandy is thinking the same thing. Why is she so stubborn? This close to him, she is overwhelmed with fear. Dwayne touches her cheek. She is trembling. What is she so afraid of?

Dwayne: I don’t know why you keep doing this to me. You draw me so close and then push me away. I want you so badly.

Dwayne leans his forehead against hers. Their lips are almost touching. Sandy says nothing. Dwayne can still feel her trembling. He moves away from her.

Dwayne (In a sad, resigned voice) Ok, then, at least leave me with another poem.

Sandy recites ’Trust”. Dwayne wonders how she writes these poems which are so much about what he has been thinking lately. It’s so surreal. It is as if she is inside of his mind or he has somehow given her all of his thoughts, hopes and fears.

Dwayne: You don’t think you can trust me? Is that it?

Dwayne likes the way Sandy is looking at him now. It has been so long since he felt this way. She looks so vulnerable and he reminds himself that she has never been in love before.

Dwayne: Sandy, you need to leave. I will only break your heart.

Chapter 20: Look Into my eyes

Knocking at the door. Damn. Dwayne looks at the clock. He laid down for a nap at 3:30 and it isn’t even 4. He is exhausted. He is exhausted from lack of sleep and from what seems like a roller coaster of emotions. He just wanted a nap to prepare for his birthday party and concert. Damn! He is fifty. Not as young as he once was. His thoughts go immediately to Sandy. He had not kissed her goodbye this afternoon. He had waved at her and the girls as they left the theater. Alex had given him so much shit.

Alex: She’s the girl from your dreams. The one you were destined to meet.

Dwayne: If that’s true, then I met her.

Alex: She plays the dulcimer. Did you hear the song she wrote?

Dwayne: Thanks to you I’m singing the song tonight.

Alex: I just wanted to move things along. You know you’re not getting any younger.

Dwayne: I’m just blowing through town, Alex.

Alex: Your problem is that women come too easy for you. If that beautiful woman looked at me the way she looks at you, I probably wouldn’t leave the bedroom ever.

Dwayne: It’s not that simple. It wouldn’t be casual with her. It couldn’t be.

Alex: All the more reason. With all this success, you need someone to center you, give you a reason to come home.

Dwayne: All this success is why I don’t need a woman at home waiting and worrying and lonely while I’m on the road.

Alex: She seems pretty independent to me. I spent some time with Frank and Isadora over lunch. Isadora says her mother has been alone all these years. Do you think she is going to whine about you traveling? That’s the woman you need, someone who is used to being alone.

Dwayne he has fallen back asleep while thinking about his conversation with Alex. The knock is more insistent. Damn, if that’s Alex! In just his sweat bottoms, he opens the door and finds the journalist holding balloons. “Happy Birthday”. Dwayne pretends to be happy. He can’t believe she remembered and came all this way. She tells him she had the strangest feeling about midnight last night that he was missing her. Dwayne smiles and tells her he actually was standing on the balcony about that time, fresh out a shower, and thinking of her. He thinks to himself that it feels like a million years ago. She says they must have some type of psychic bond and he laughs. Actually Henry had called her early that morning and said the band was organizing a preconcert birthday celebration dinner in one of the suites. Tom and Henry thought it would be a nice surprise if she came and so she hopped on a plane, but wanted to surprise him first by herself. She starts to get undress and he stops her. She asks him if it wouldn’t relieve the pressure a bit. It is a big show, right? He tells her he is tired. He is singing two new songs tonight and he had a long rehearsal. It is a big night. He just needs a nap. She suggests that they get undress and just snuggle together while he naps. He agrees, but then only pretends to sleep. Beautiful woman in his arms without nearly the drama Sandy presented, but somehow it feels almost as if he is cheating on Sandy. How can that be? Jackie tells Dwayne she invited someone from Albuquerque to his party. In doing research before interviewing Dwayne, she had talked to a Professor at UNM who is a cowboy folk expert. She has never met him, only talked by phone, but it helps to know people in every market. Dwayne says he is always happy to talk to another professor.

He convinces himself as he walks in with Jackie on his arm that he is happy. There’s not a rational reason for him not to be. This beautiful girl wanting to be with him tonight, his friends giving him a little party, success in his career, a new song he wrote today. He tries unsuccessfully to push the image of Sandy out of his mind. He decides to be happy that Sandy will be there tonight at the premiere of the song she inspired “Then I met you” and for her song “Bliss”. She will hear “The First Time”. She will be in the audience.

Sandy relives Dwayne telling her she better leave again in her mind. Her heart is already broken, she thinks, but then thinks that it is better now than later. Sandy tries to act cheerful as the girls and her walk home. Isadora is a little quiet, but Sandy agrees to let Frank and her have lunch alone tomorrow before he leaves and that cheers her up. Carmen acts as if Sandy is a movie star. How had they met? Wasn’t she nervous to talk to him? Sandy downplays it. They met last night at the bar. He came in for a drink. He walked her home after work. No big deal. The boys have agreed to send the girls texts and pictures from the show, but each girl is disappointed for her own reasons that they will not be attending the show. Sandy makes them swear they will not leave the house and will not invite anyone over.

After a short nap, Sandy asks the girls to help her get ready. They sit on her bed; offering her suggestions about her make-up and hair. She should have gone out on more dates when Isadora was younger. There had been very few of these dress up occasions with her daughter watching her get ready. The girls order pizza and start looking at Dwayne’s online videos. Before her date arrives, Sandy calls Mike. She says she knows it had been a while. He asks if she is seeing someone new. Sandy tells him about her date tonight and that she thinks it’s time for Mike to move on. She is not being completely honest about the reason, but it seems like the easiest excuse.

Sandy knows already that this will likely be the one and only date with the folk historian professor tonight. Somehow dating a man who doesn’t believe in the cowboy myth doesn’t seem as fun as it was when she made the date. There is the irony that he will hear and be able to make fun of one of her country songs. She wonders now why she ever hated cowboys.

Sammy arrives wearing rhinestones on his shirt. Sandy can’t help but laugh. Ok. Maybe there are some reasons why it’s fun to laugh at some so called cowboys. Sammy’s eyes are sparkling and Sandy realizes that only her world has changed in 48 hours. He is the same funny, intelligent, handsome guy he was two nights ago and expects that she will be the same funny, cowboy hating woman she was. Sammy has a surprise.

Sammy: Remember I told you I had a phone interview with that a few weeks back. Turns out she is dating the singer. She is flying out today for a pre-concert birthday party and invited me. We can go and meet the man himself.

Sandy: I don’t think we should. I mean we’re just going as a lark, right, to spoof him? We don’t want to be rude.

Sammy: I can be perfectly well behaved in public. Then, we can make fun of him afterwards.

Sandy: I actually already met him. My daughter and her friend were invited to the rehearsal by some boys. I went along to chaperone.

Sammy: Even better. Come on, let’s go. I told her I would come. It’s a career thing, you know.

Sandy: But he’s not what you think. He is very down to earth.

Sammy: Well, let’s go, so I can meet this charmer.

How could she say no? Sandy feels a little sick to her stomach about the thought of seeing Dwayne again so soon. How many good-byes do they need? She was embarrassed about seeing him seeing her with a date, but Dwayne knew she was coming with a date to the concert. Then she thinks about the journalist “dating” Dwayne and flying in for his birthday. He had said he didn’t have any serious attachments. Sounded serious to her. Son of a bitch! Turns out he lied to her after all.

Dwayne has eased a little bit into the party. It is an intimate event. Just the immediate band members, a girl Henry had met in Santa Fe, and the journalist. Jackie thought it was going to be a bigger party and tells everyone she has invited an UNM professor and a date. Alex teases that he didn’t know if they could handle two professors in one room, but everyone is fine with it. The hotel has delivered ribs and grilled vegetables. There is a bottle for the room. Dwayne has told the band no more than one, but the ladies, the friend of Henry’s and Jackie, have slammed two and are on a third. Dwayne is leaning against the wall directly facing the door. The journalist is leaning against him. She is wearing those ridiculous boots, but a silky red tight-fitting dress. She whispers in his ear all the things she thought she could do for the birthday boy after the concert. He thinks if he can get her to wear just those boots and his hat later tonight, he will take a picture. She begins to nibble on his ear. He is holding her against him, his hand on her ass, when the door opens and Sandy walks in.

Sandy is wearing a tan dress, short and tight-fitting, flat shoes. Her legs are long, bare and tan. Her hair is hanging long, natural. Dwayne realizes he has hugged the journalist tighter to him when Sandy walks in; just so he could concentrate for a moment on what Sandy looks like. Beside her is a ridiculous looking guy wearing a damn rhinestone shirt. Alex calls out “Sandy “and goes to greet her.

In the history of awkward moments, Sandy thinks, as Sammy introduces her to the journalist and the journalist introduces both Sammy and Sandy to Dwayne. Sandy thinks that the journalist could easily be Dwayne’s daughter based on age. As the journalist snuggles back against Dwayne and Sammy’s hand rests on Sandy’s back, Dwayne’s eyes express amusement. Sandy’s eyes express disgust. Well, at least we have that look out of the way, Dwayne thinks.

Dwayne: Sandy is known to the band. We are showcasing a song tonight that she wrote.

Sammy laughs: You write songs. Why didn’t you tell me?

Sandy: It hadn’t come up. It’s our first date.

Jackie: Seeing the Lonely Players is a great first date. Wait until you hear Dwayne’s version of “The First Time”. I bet that has inspired a few couples on a first date.

Alex delivers drinks on a tray to the group. He tells Dwayne that since he is the birthday boy, the band thinks it is ok for him to have a second. The five of them toast to Dwayne’s birthday. Dwayne downs his in two gulps and puts the glass back on Alex’s tray. Alex asks with a very broad grin if everything is ok and Dwayne gives him a drop dead stare. Sandy downs her drink-a whiskey she thinks, and Alex says he will be back with another. A few minutes later Tom comes over and tells the journalist he really wants to show her some of the social media coverage and they walk away. Alex comes back with a drink for Sandy and he asks Sammy if he could talk to him for a few minutes about the Albuquerque connection to route sixty-six. They walk away. Dwayne and Sandy have a few minutes alone together orchestrated by Alex. Dwayne takes her by the arm and pulls her out to the balcony and shuts the door. Through-out their conversation, they speak softly to each other, but in often angry whispers. Sandy drinks her whiskey far faster than usual. Dwayne looks from Sandy to the room to be sure they are not overheard or interrupted.

Sandy: Your girlfriend is pretty.

Dwayne: Not my girlfriend. I told you I didn’t have any serious attachments.

Sandy: Playmate, then. How old is she?

Dwayne: Over legal age, I believe. Your friend looks rather young as well. Doing the cougar thing are we?

Sandy: I’m not dating children.

Dwayne: Oh, darlin’, she ain’t no child. So, have I just seen what you consider fuckable? You’re right, he’s not nearly as handsome or as charming as I am. Good choice.

Sandy: I’m not going to fuck him. It’s our first date.

Dwayne: I should have worn rhinestone sweat pants this morning. Maybe that would have made me fuckable.

Sandy: He’s wearing it to be ironical.

Dwayne: Oh, that’s right. You are here to make fun of me and my kind.

Sandy thinks that this is killing her. She doesn’t want to fight with him. Just, how could he date that child? Not a child, she reminds herself, and not her business. She tells herself not to repeat the mistake she made when they first met. He doesn’t know they are soul mates. Only she knows this.

Sandy: No, I’m not here to make fun. I am really looking forward to tonight. I can’t wait to hear your songs. I can’t wait to hear you sing my, I mean, “Bliss”.

Dwayne: What’s changed?

Sandy: You know what’s changed.

Dwayne takes Sandy’s drink out of her hand and slams what is left of it. He knows he is the one being irrational now. He is upset at seeing Sandy with another man and embarrassed that Sandy has seen him with Jackie.

Dwayne: I would love to hear you say what’s changed with tears in your eyes, making me think I am the first man you could fall in love with. That’s a nice trick.

Sandy: (Damn him). You can say that to me when your young woman flew in to give you a birthday fuck and it’s not the first time you’ve been with her.

Dwayne: No. It’s not. It’s been fun fucking her. (In explanation) I didn’t know she was coming in. It was a surprise.

Sandy: So, if I had fucked you this morning and then she came in where would I be? Just one of many birthday fucks for today? You asked me to see you after the concert. Did you think you might do us both at the same time?

Dwayne: (Damn her, is that really what she thinks?) Look at me. Look at me.

He pulls her so she is standing directly in front of him. His hands are on your shoulders. They look in each other’s eyes. Sandy thinks again that this is killing her. She thinks about the poem “Paracelsus” and the man sending up a prayer upon his death. She decides she will go out the way she has lived; self-reliant to the end. She gives Dwayne a look she believes is of cold defiance. Dwayne searches her eyes. Yes, he sees her pride, but he sees the vulnerability, hurt and pain behind the pride. He can barely speak.

Dwayne: Well, I told you I would break your heart.

Sandy: Lucky for me I keep it safe from assholes like you.

Dwayne: If only that was true. I swear, Sandy, I never meant to hurt you.