I regret what happened, that I gave into my fear. I still believe whatever future the band might have had was at best problematic, but I should have stayed. I should have told them the truth and let events unfold from there. They would have believed me, eventually.  They certainly do now.

In recounting the events from 1964 to 1967 I have come to understand that for more than a century I have been trying to find some way to come forward and let the world take me or leave me as it saw fit. Events over the past six years have led me to believe the world would mostly choose the latter option, though there have been some who obsess to the point of madness. So long as those are few and far between they are simple enough to deal with.
What to do now? There are still many things to say, stories to tell, but my neglect of this journal has generated the predictable result and my only visitors are the occasional die-hard and those searching for things they will not find here. I can start anew if I can find it within myself to delve into those things still untold. I would like to try.

Dalene, Nefirtiri, Aiko- all three of you deserved better, but in the final analysis was it all so terrible? When we met you were months, a year at most, from death or worse. More than forty years later you are all still here, still friends and enjoying your lives in ways you once never dreamed you could. Was the pain I caused you too high a price to pay? Only you can answer that question, but I shall take satisfaction from the fact that you are still here to answer it should you so choose.

I should have stayed with you. There are many things I should have done that I failed to do- in a life as long as mine that list is quite long and carrying the guilt of those failures is far too heavy a burden to bear. I am setting this one down and leaving it behind.

Z

“No more clubs, no more bars… this is what’s left. Besides, they said one of the guys heard us in Chicago, so they must know what they’re getting.”

She gave me her “Inscrutable Asian” look, and then turned to gaze out the window again. The campus was large and sprawling, students spread out across the park-like lawns taking in the warmth of this beautiful Southern California afternoon. It was a mixed crowd between the clean-cut and fresh faced, and the more bohemian types and absolutely nothing like the seedier crowds we were used to playing to.

I had my own doubts about this- since swearing off dives we had not performed much, though we had never stopped playing. In a way those months in practice studios and rented barns had served as a buffer, another layer of good times between where we were and the brutality of the life we had left behind. It seemed our path was laid out in stages where we would sprint ahead, then stop and recollect ourselves before moving on again. First fleeing New Orleans, then a long summer in Virginia as Dalene fought to regain her dignity and break free of the addiction that had been killing her. After that, a haphazard journey across the Midwest playing loud music in seedy bars led to a soft landing first in Santa Barbara, then later Los Angeles.

I navigated my way into the Greek quarter, our van and its trailer attracting only cursory attention as I noted there were other similar vehicles scattered about. We had been hired to play at a Spring Concert put on by the fraternities and sororities at the university, a festival where two houses would join up to present a stage act for the day. Apparently there was some competitive aspect to the entire thing as I could see elaborate stages facing the Quad and some of the bands being advertised were if not famous, at least locally well-known.

“Surfers, rockers, soul… at least we won’t be the only ones getting a little loud,” Dalene said as she noted the bands already there, “but look at all the Tom Jones types.”

“It’s the fraternity system- lots of kids from very conservative families. If this were an Ivy League school it would be a lot worse.”

1965 was the cusp, in my opinion. The assassination of the President and then the cultural impact of the baby boom had become irresistible by then, but there were still holdouts, even on large state university campuses such as this. The next few years would make all these things quite clear, but for now there were those who blindly insisted nothing was changing even as the nation convulsed its way through the change.

I found the frat house and pulled into the driveway, following it around to the back where the house overlooked the Quad. They already had a stage set up and the place was decorated in a mix of pink and white streamers and balloons with posters declaring the “Greek Pride” of the frat and its sister sorority. Since we had only just purchased our van it was plain white. We had not painted the band name on it, or made any changes, and the trailer was just dull grey, so at least we didn’t clash. I parked by the stage and saw some students gathered nearby, looking us over.

“Okay, ladies, first impressions are everything here. Unless we want to get fired before we even unpack we have to keep it cool, understand?”

Solemn nods all around failed to reassure me. Both Aiko and Neff had mischief written all over their faces, and Dalene was trying to suppress a small grin that slowly broke down into a laugh.

“Have you looked at us this morning?” she asked, incredulously.

I nearly laughed myself. Aiko, so very Japanese, had bleached and dyed her hair honey gold and was wearing snug khaki shorts with a matching halter top. Neff was in blindingly white shorts and a bikini top- all our time in the California sun having turned her skin so dark the contrast was almost impossible to look at without your eyes watering. Dalene was in black leather pants, black spiked heel boots and a red-white-and-blue bikini top. And I might have been the worst- I had thrown on cut-offs and a halter top for the trip, and had not been too concerned with modesty in my choices.

“Just try, okay?”

A knock on the window frame drew my attention and I turned to see a young man, maybe nineteen or twenty. He looked in the van, looked at me, and was about to say something so I cut him off.

“We’re looking for Jacob. We’re the band.”

“Really? The band?” He looked confused and I got a bad feeling immediately.

Aiko leaned across from the passenger seat and fixed her eyes firmly on his.

“Baby,” she said with a cryptic grin, “We’re the girls momma warned you about.”

I shot her a bemused look then turned back to him. “Yes, the band. Find Jacob for us, okay?”

With a task to perform he seemed more at ease and sped off to find the guy who had hired us while we piled out of the van and stretched our legs. This in turn attracted a small crowd of young men whom Aiko and Dalene artfully corralled into helping us unload our equipment. We were in the middle of that process when Jacob arrived.

Jacob Jacobsen was a tall, wiry blond with pale blue eyes set in a hard face that made him look like he was always just a little unhappy with what he saw, but when he took in the sight of the girls and his frat brothers unloading the van and trailer his face lit up with a smile that could melt glaciers.

“You made it!” he exclaimed, “I was getting worried.”

“Good,” I replied. “Tell me, do these boys and girls know what they’re getting from us?”

“I told them you were a girl group I saw in Chicago and that you were different,” he said, spreading his hands in exact proportion to the amount of information he had apparently not bothered to share.

“So this is some sort of joke to you?” I looked up at the stage where Day and Aiko were assembling the drums while Neff laid out the microphone stands and cables. They were all business now. “Somehow, I just don’t find this very funny.”

“Girl, look around you! All these pompous assholes, they think they’re the center of the world and that this little contest actually means something. My brothers are mad because last year we lost to some local band covering the Beatles and the Kinks and they wanted to get back on top. So I found a band that will do it… but they’re too straight-laced to even consider somebody like you four, so I just didn’t give them the whole deal, that’s all.”

What to do? This was our first real job in months and we had been looking forward to it. Yes, the frat boys and sorority girls were likely to freak out once we started into our usual sets, but they could not be any worse than what we were used to, could they? And as Day had pointed out, we would not be the only loud band on the Quad. I crossed my arms under my breasts and turned to Jacob, giving him such a stern look he actually stepped back a bit.

“We get paid up front, in full, or we pack up and leave.”

Jacob grinned and looked relieved. He really needed to learn to smile more, it suited him.

“I figured you might feel that way, so…” he drew an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it over. I counted out three hundred dollars in fifties. “You stay and play sets until ten o’clock, at least two sets an hour. We’re scheduled to start at noon and we alternate with Kappa next door. Anything you need, you ask for me.”

“Angie!” Day called from above. I looked up and saw her leaning against the railing, actually posing, as some of the guys working near her stopped what they were doing to stare. It was cruel of her because she would never let another man touch her, not after that night in Detroit, but she did it because she knew I enjoyed ogling her as much as any man did.

“Cher?”

“They’ve already got a sound system set up, but nobody up here knows anything about it.”

“That’s my doing,” Jacob piped up. “I’ll be right up!” He turned to me, “I hired a sound crew and some high-end equipment- we should just be able to plug in your master board… that’s assuming you have a master board?”

“Talk to Day and Aiko- they handle the sound system. I want Day’s stuff set up first- if there’s time before noon I want her on stage riffing once the sound checks are done.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Jacob replied, grinning again as he snapped off a mock salute. He bolted up the stairs to the stage and Neff passed him on the way down.

“I like this place,” she said, “so much better than the bars.”

“We haven’t even played a note yet, so don’t get too excited. At least we got paid up front.” I handed Neff the envelope and she nodded almost solemnly.

“It’s going to be a good day; I can feel it in my bones.” She smiled as she said that and I could feel myself relaxing. Neff’s Kenyan accent had a way of lending a sort of extra weight to her words when she spoke of believing in things. “I’m going to lock this in the safe.”

By eleven o’clock we’d drawn a bit of a crowd, mostly boys looking us over, but also some very curious girls drawn by watching us do our sound checks. When it was revealed there wasn’t a backup band and we actually played our own instruments it had set off a bit of a buzz amongst the students slowly streaming into the Quad for the festival.

I had Day get into a more comfortable stage outfit because it was already pretty warm and looking to get warmer as the day wore on. She came out on stage in a light cotton top that she tied under her bust, a pair of very short denim cut-offs and simple flip-flops. When she fetched up her SG and pulled on a pair of aviator sunglasses Neff, Aiko and I retreated off stage to get dressed. From inside the house I could hear the mournful moan of her guitar as she moved through a solo version of Die for Love, one of the first songs we had written together. She brought down the tempo and dropped it an octave and it sounded like something you would hear wafting out of a New Orleans blues joint.

We changed quickly, Aiko opting for a sleeveless denim vest and jeans while Neff slipped into a stunning blue, red and gold kaftan we had made a few weeks before. It was not a traditional style, instead more open in the sides and a little more form-fitting. Aiko donned a Hachimaki, both to proclaim her Japanese heritage and to keep the sweat out of her eyes as she played.

They got to dress mostly for comfort, with an eye towards also looking good. As the front girl I had less leeway. Black leather boots that came up above mid-thigh, leather shorts and a sleeveless leather vest/bustier: It would be hotter than hell in the sun, but it was our signature look. The heels were five inches, but there was a one inch lift on the toes, necessary because I was so short compared to Day and Neff. I opted for the lace fingerless gloves covering just the forearm.

“Make sure there’s plenty of cold water up there,” I told Jacob.

Dalene was just winding down as we approached the stage and I snatched up a pitcher of ice water for her as we walked on. There was an audible reaction as Aiko and Neff took their positions. Aiko rattled through some runs while Neff shouldered her double-necked bass- she preferred an eight-and six string combination.

Day took the cup I filled for her and downed it greedily- it was very warm outside and we would be in the sun all afternoon given the layout of the stage. I poured her another and she drank half of it, then set it aside as she dropped the SG into its stand and shouldered her Strat, the very one I’d given her in New Orleans. I stepped close and settled one hand on her hip.

“Are you ready for this, cher?” I whispered. In response she leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the mouth. It was not a provocative kiss by any means, but I could feel the way it sent a ripple effect through the crowd. Whatever they might think of us, everybody watching was pretty sure we would not be singing paeans to our boyfriends.

I strutted over to Aiko, ensconced in her drum kit. She blew me a kiss and I snatched it from the air as I passed. Stopping before Neff we leaned into each other and pressed our foreheads together. She smelled of cinnamon.

“Let’s do this,” I whispered and she reared back as I twirled and leapt towards the microphone at center stage, the first notes crashing forth before my feet touched down.

I danced, letting the waves of sound move through and animate me while the girls pounded out the complex, powerful opening refrains of Hobson’s Choice. The microphone stand served as a focal point so I could stay within reach of it while my body became the music, just a puppet animated by the beat and notes, tossed about the stage until I landed before the microphone and it was my turn to wail forth.

If you’re lucky you get to choose

Between those things you love,

And the things you need to lose

But Mother Nature is a Bitch

Doesn’t matter what you want it to be

You’ve got no corner on Reality

And I’m not here to tell you its okay

Because choices, they’re torture

Is it agony, or is it horror

And can we tell the difference?

Best to turn and walk away

Leave you to the life you chose

When you had no choices at all

We assaulted the audience with sound and while a number turned away, far more came to witness. Was it the spectacle, or was there genuine interest? Probably a good mixture of both, but we tore through two full sets, stopping between only long enough to down large cups of ice water. When we finished the response was pretty enthusiastic. It was just the right crowd.

Our counterparts at the Kappa house started their set and I stayed long enough to be polite, but they were a boring and not-very-sincere effort to relive the Fifties so I retreated inside and found the girls in what had to be the frat’s common room, fanning themselves from the heat and carefully fending off advances from slightly inebriated college boys. I could see this becoming more of a problem as the day wore on, but what could we do?

A hand settled on my rear and squeezed. The boy doing the groping was about to say something, but it transformed instantly into a yelp of pain when I twisted and ripped his hand away, securing him in what I can assure you was a very painful finger lock. I squeezed just enough to let him get an idea just how close I was to breaking three of his fingers, then let him go, smiled, and patted him on the cheek.

“Hands off, sweetie,” I said, keeping my voice low and sweet, then louder I said, “These are costumes, boys. Stage costumes, not invitations.”

Jacob appeared and things immediately settled down some as he ushered us into a room where we could change, standing guard outside the door. I peeled off all the leather and collapsed naked on a couch while Dalene and Aiko pulled off my boots. Within moments we were all undressed; a situation that would have had very intimate connotations anywhere else, here it just meant it was time to break out some towels, soak them in cold water, cool down and wash up.

Aiko was just lacing up the back of my vest when there was a quiet knock at the door. I looked about to make sure everyone was dressed.

“Come in!”

Jacob entered along with a girl who was clearly his girlfriend. There were few others gathered outside the room and they all had that same look as Jacob, as if they might be frat boys and sorority girls, but they did not take it too seriously. The girl spoke up first.

“That was some pretty unusual stuff you were playing,” she said, “we’re all kind of hoping you have more. I’m Dinah.”

“Plenty more where that came from,” Dalene said, “we don’t do covers, it’s all our own.”

“Well you’ve certainly got everyone’s attention,” Jacob grinned, “people are already queuing up for your next set.”

“Then let’s not keep them waiting.” I said and let Aiko tie off my laces, then sat down to struggle into my boots once again.

I remember those few minutes so clearly, how excited Day was, the way Aiko was practically bouncing off the walls with eagerness to get back on stage and even Neff, usually so cool and reserved, grinning and dancing a little as we finally walked back through the house out to the stage. I remember the joy radiating from all of them and feeling it infect me, my heart pounding as we left the house and entered the stage…

I nearly froze, but watching Dalene and the others moving with such confidence forced my feet to move even as the sight of the crowd sent a chilling spike of fear down my spine. When we had finished before there had been a few hundred students on the Quad split pretty evenly between our stage and the one on the opposite end of the field. Now… there were thousands of people jammed into the Quad and most of them were piled around our stage.

A cheer went up as we took our places and I turned to face Dalene. She immediately saw something that concerned her, but I swallowed everything I was feeling at that moment and forced it down hard. I would not spoil this for them, Instead I grinned and mouthed the words quite a crowd, isn’t it. Normally I would have repeated my little circling of the stage that I did to start our first performance, but I was afraid I might infect the girls with my own fear so I just pointed at Aiko.

“Go,” was all I said, then turned to the sea of faces before me as drums and cymbals crashed, then guitars followed and I took the mike in a death grip.

Keep it tight, keep it close

It’s yours to lose and you know it

A precious thing and what it knows

Could all be gone – don’t blow it

You guard yourself like a fortress

You never give anything up

Live like a hermit, a Soldier for your God

Never a thought for life or the things in it

No joy for you

No joy from you

Selfish little bitch

Hopeless and helpless in your silly pride

In your head is a shitty place to hide

Once we started I was fine, but as soon as we finished our two sets all I wanted was off the stage and away from those thousands of eyes. When the crowd refused to leave Jacob asked us to go up for an encore and I nearly told him no, but instead grabbed a bottle of something cheap, vile and whiskey-like from the hand of one of the frat boys, took a long, long pull from it, then went back out on stage as the alcohol rushed through me to calm my nerves. I turned to Aiko and Neff.

“Slaughter.”

They both looked shocked, but Dalene just nodded at them and changed guitars, handing me the SG. Slaughter was an intricate instrumental, a chance for the three of them, but mostly Dalene, to really strut their stuff while I played the fills Dalene had mercilessly drilled into my fairly untalented fingers. It went long, more than seven minutes, and it was flawless and the crowd loved it. I was terrified they would demand more, but mercifully the band on the Kappa stage started up the instant we finished.

The rest of the day was like that, and I knew what was gnawing away at me. It was not stage fright, it was simply knowing so many eyes were upon me. Only a few years ago I had spent a year working in a diner on the Pacific Coast highway, before that nearly three years playing housewife to a dying man and his son. How many of those people out there had encountered me during those years? How many would possibly recognize me?

When we played small clubs and the like it never bothered me because I knew I could brazen out a chance encounter, particularly in the parts of the country we were working, but this was California and big as it was I’d been here too recently for too long.

I was too old, too good an actress to let any of this show outwardly. After that second set I put on as good a show as any we had done or would do. Everybody was happy, Jacob’s house won the contest hands down and we had some new dates to play.

And I was terrified.

The last cigarette was in my hand, the crumpled pack falling to the ground when the door finally cracked open and Dalene slipped out, closing it behind her. She stood in the doorway, a pale apparition in the starlit darkness. Coming from the warmth and light of the club she did not see me as she started across the parking lot towards the hotel, wrapping her arms about herself- a gold lamee mini dress and matching boots were no match for a November night in Detroit. Her eyes were fixed on the ground in front of her and her face had all the life of a block of stone.

I slipped the cigarette between my lips and as she came close I struck my last match. The flare of light startled her and she stopped in her tracks as I dragged the flame into the tobacco, then tossed the match to the ground. Our gaze met and her lips parted, the tension easing from her brow for a moment as tears threatened, making her eyes glisten. The ache of worry that had filled me the past hour suddenly welled up in my throat and broke from my lips in a single, gasping cry.

“Why?”

“Why? Because I hate it when you… when you let them touch you. I hate waiting for you to come back. I hate the way you smell! I hate the way you pretend it’s nothing, like we shouldn’t care or even notice what you’re doing.”

I stared at her, feeling the force of her words striking me as she stepped close and gripped my arms, drawing me to her. The look in her eyes was almost frightening, enough to make me brace my hands against her chest, but then she leaned down and kissed me… and I could taste him in her mouth. There were wet streaks in her hair and stains on her dress- I could smell him all over her. She broke the kiss, let go of my arms, then plucked the cigarette from my fingers and took a long drag.

“Disgusting, isn’t it? I want to gag just thinking about it… and we left this behind, remember? You, and me, the four of us; except now it’s Aiko, Neff and me, and you’re just outside it all. It’s the three of us, and you. And I hate that most of all.” She took another drag, then dropped the cigarette and crushed it under the toe of her boot. “And now maybe you know how it feels to be me.”

I stared at her, unsure what to say. I had hurt her, hurt all of them, and I had done it without thinking; so focused on buffering them against the world that I had pulled away from them. Away from her. Her eyes were hard, but she was holding back tears, her arms wrapped tightly about herself as she shivered from the cold.

“I don’t…” I started, but then took a deep breath and tried again. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just feel… I dragged you all out here…” Words failed me then, and all I could think to do was lean into her and hold on. Dalene slowly unfolded her arms and took me in, her chin resting atop my head while I tried to force something, anything out past my lips. Nothing would come because the only words I wanted to speak were the truth. I wanted to tell her everything, tell her why I let this wall grow between us, tell her that loving her was beautiful and terrifying…

“I’m sorry,” was all I managed to squeak out, “Cher, I never meant to let this happen.” Then my throat was too full of pain and I couldn’t stop crying, the realization that all my lies were the real wall between us and that I could not set them aside finding the only release I could allow.

“Angie,” she whispered, “I know, baby. I know.” I could feel her shaking, knowing it was more than just the cold as I felt her tears falling on me. “We just have to be strong together, that’s all.”

We clung to each other whispering tenderness, reassurances and promises but I could not stop weeping. The weight of my deception, the aching need to tell her the truth and the fear that made that impossible warred within me until I was too wrung out to cry anymore, leaving me empty and exhausted. All I had left was her warmth and the soothing balm of her words, words I did not deserve to hear.

 It had been a good weekend for us as we actually managed to play Thursday, Friday and Saturday night without being fired by the manager, driven off stage by the crowd or arrested for lewdness. It was not that we had changed our show, just that the mood going in had been a little more relaxed. We offered up lots of blues and let Day’s guitar lead us into the night until the crowd was liquored up enough to at least tolerate our louder, angrier fare. And if the room started to empty early, we could not have cared less.

 Dalene downed a shot then looked up as Frank, the owner, came out of his office and strode across the room to our table. He was a big man, tall and wide with a ruddy complexion, and a broad, flat face framed in an unkempt shock of white hair. He paused, hands on his hips as he looked down at us, a slight smile on his wide mouth. I knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth.

 Playing clubs like Frank’s was a gamble. He knew what he usually brought in on a given weekend and the band was expected to draw enough of a crowd to see that he met his expected take between the cover charge, food and drinks. Some owners wouldn’t take a chance on us, others would. Of the ones who would, most looked at a down weekend and just told us not to come back, but some of them expected us to forfeit our pay if we did not cover the expected take. Of those in the latter group, some were willing to take payment ‘in kind’. Frank was definitely one of those.

 “I thought you were gonna make it tonight, girls,” he sighed, “but y’all killed the crowd with all the screechin’ and hollerin’ at the end.  You’re eight hundred short.”

 He looked straight at me when he said it. I gave him a knowing look because I had made explicit promises to land this gig, but as I tried to rise from my chair Dalene’s hand on my shoulder shoved me down as she stood. She snatched up the bottle on the table and slid around behind me to rub up against Frank, sliding her free hand over his shoulder and across his chest.

 “How about we go back to your office and discuss this?” she whispered, then she glanced at me and what I saw in her eyes nearly made me gasp. She was seething with anger and it was all directed straight at me.

 I opened my mouth, and then gritted my teeth as Aiko kicked me under the table. Both she and Neff were watching me in a way that demanded I simply shut my mouth. Dalene tugged at Frank’s shirt and pressed her lips to his ear, whispering something I could not hear, but made him flush with anticipation. His meaty arm slid around her waist and they turned away from us, walking back to his office. Dalene clutched the whiskey bottle by the neck as she slipped her free hand across his back and leaned into him.

 “Day!”

 I called out her name, desperate to stop this somehow, but she simply moved her hand from Frank’s back, making a fist with her middle finger rigidly extended. She held the gesture until they reached the office door and disappeared within.

 “Angie?”

 Neff’s voice snapped me out of my paralyzed state and I jumped from my seat. Aiko grabbed me by the hand and shook me hard.

 “We need to pack up,” she said, “Day will be fine.”

 I could not stop staring at the office door while we packed up our instruments and equipment. Sometimes Aiko or Neff would have to shove me to get me moving, but there was no anger or impatience in them as we spent the next hour lugging everything outside and packing it in the van and small trailer we travelled in. Once everything was packed I started towards the office door, but Aiko grabbed me as Neff planted herself between me and the door.

 “Day is doing what needs to be done,” Neff told me, her Kenyan accent suddenly very pronounced. “Our hotel is across the street- she knows where to find us.”

 “You don’t seriously believe I’ll just leave her here?!”

 Eyes wide with anger Neff slapped me hard, snapping my head to one side. It was so sudden, so unlike her I just stared at her in shock.

 “Yes! You will just leave, just like we have left, just like she has left you in places like this.”

 I could have brushed past the both of them; I would not even need to hurt them to do it, but their anger held me paralyzed. I could not grasp what had set the three of them off, or how having Dalene subject herself to that fat bastard Frank could possibly make anything better, but I knew trying to stop this would be a mistake. All three of them had decided on this and as much as it tore at my heart I had to let it play out.

 Without saying another word I turned and stormed out the door. At the van I reached in the driver’s window and grabbed my cigarettes, then crossed the parking lot, planted myself on the fence rail and lit up. A few minutes later Aiko and Neff came out and climbed into the van, then pulled it around in a wide u-turn to stop in front of me.

 “Coming?” Aiko asked.

 I stared at her, trying to keep the raw emotion boiling inside me from leaking out, but it was futile. Neff leaned over from the driver’s seat.

“You can’t go in there! That’s just the way it has to be.”

 “I’m not going in,” I snapped, “But I’m not moving from this spot until she comes out.” I refrained from adding that if I suspected for an instant anything might be going bad I would be in that office in an instant and strangle Frank with my bare hands. It didn’t matter; they could both read it in my eyes. Aiko made to speak, but I stopped her with an upraised hand.

 “No more,” I said, “Just go.”

 They were both nervous, wondering if this could turn into something terrible. I felt tears welling up and I could not let them start to flow or I might lose control altogether, so I looked into Aiko’s eyes.

 “I can’t go back without her,” I whispered. “Please, just go. We’ll meet you at the motel.”

Neff and Aiko had always known Dalene was a serious musician, but even they were surprised by how her playing seemed to grow more passionate, more intricate with every passing day. The drugs were gone from her body, but they haunted her soul, so she wielded her guitar and her talent, clutching them to her like a talisman to subdue those moments when weakness might become craving. That constant struggle poured from her as music, and no one listening escaped untouched.

“I’m going to miss these little shindigs,” Dr. O’Malley confessed to me between mouthfuls of smoked barbecue pork ribs and coleslaw. The motel had an impressive barbecue pit out back that Cyrus and Ella, the owners, had eagerly pressed into service once their little motel/roadside stand became a regular haunt. They kept the prices down and the food simple, and we hadn’t paid for our room since our second week in town.

“We’ll miss it, too,” I sighed. “This summer… it’s been so perfect. It’s hard to believe we stopped here by chance.”

“Call it fate,” he said, pausing to drain his beer then gesturing around us with the empty bottle. “Look at this, all these people rubbin’ elbows, all these white people and black people- all because there’s a pretty girl playin’ a guitar and good food. I’ll tell you, if Cyrus and Ella were white, this wouldn’t have been possible, wouldn’t be a black face in the crowd.”

“This town isn’t that bad,” I started, but I knew he was right. “It’s been very good to us, in lots of ways.”

“That’s mostly your doing, missy. You kept your friends under control, made sure folks didn’t get the wrong idea…”

“Or the right idea,” I corrected him with a wink. He nodded at me, a knowing grin on his face, but then he turned serious, fixing his eyes on mine.

“I’m glad I was wrong about you. I still don’t know what you’re all about, but I know you’re tryin’ to do the right thing by your friends. I know what that’s like.”

“I know you do, and I thank you, but they are helping me, too.”

“What is it, guilt? Trying to make amends for something?”

Dalene had stopped playing and was tuning her guitar while Aiko did the same with her viola and Neff warmed up her fingers doing scales on her violin. This was how I had first seen them, just the three of them making music on a street corner in New Orleans. Now in this little town they were so very different, smiling, healthy and full of life, yet the wounds remaining underneath needed little to bring them back to the surface. As the three of them began to play, filling the air with softly stirring melodies my thoughts went back to the day before when we filled a rented basement with screeching cacophony most would hardly recognize as music. The rage remained and no amount of sunny afternoons on the porch with guitars and violins would root it out.

“There is no making amends for things I have done, Dr. O’Malley. The past is the past.”

He shot me a quizzical look- perhaps I let my accent slip for a moment. Fortunately one of the ladies in attendance chose that moment to interrupt and I was spared any further questions, allowing me to watch the crowd and enjoy the music.

They were the center of attention, and they deserved to be, but as I surveyed the small crowd it was clear I was the object of some speculation. This was not a sudden development as I was the one people found most odd of the four of us, but of late the gossip mill had begun to zero in on me. I spent too much time and effort deflecting those inquisitive types who would look behind the facade of four young women, whose trip from Florida to New York had been interrupted, and this in turn fueled further questions and more curiosity. Were it not for this perhaps we could have remained in this town…

Not for the first time I wondered- should I leave them? I could slip out in the night and reach the highway by dawn, and then hitchhike into the city leaving behind the car and the money. Then my eyes settled upon Dalene and all other thoughts fell away. Her eyes were closed, a relaxed smile on her lips as her fingers caressed her guitar; she radiated peaceful contentment, but underneath she was so fragile. All three of them, all four of us walked the knife edge, for what I was doing terrified me. The consequences of failure would be terrible for them and unbearable for me.

The music forced the thoughts away, Dalene’s eyes opened and sought me out and then she winked, a gentle, sultry flutter of her left eye so full of promise most of the men standing near me stood straighter wondering if that gesture had been directed at them. My face broke into a smile like a cry of relief. This night was perfection- there could be no remaining here after this.

We would leave in the morning, Dalene, Aiko and Neff clinging to me and to each other as I clung to them.