Another round of cheers washed over them. It seemed there were quite a few Jake Kingsley fans out there as well.
“Now, by this point,” Z said, “you’re probably wondering why I’m telling you all of this. I do have a reason, you know. You see, since Teach hit the road with us, she and Jake have kind of been missing each other. You know how that is, right? The life of a traveling musician can be a lonely one; long trips on the bus day after day, sleeping in cheap motels, being far away from those you love. So, anyway, Jake thought maybe he would come out and pay a little visit to his lovely lady. He flew into Amarillo International just a few hours ago and is here with us, in this arena, right here and right now. How about that?”
This generated another cheer, the loudest so far, as the audience started to pick up on where Z was going with this.
“And,” Z said once the noise level mellowed out, “since he’s here, hanging out with us for a bit, I talked him into coming up and playing a little something from his solo album—the song that he and Teach did together. Ladies and gentlemen of Amarillo, Texas, give it up for the one, the only, the legendary Jake Kingsley!”
“All right, go!” Toadie said, clapping Jake forcefully on the back.
Jake took a deep breath and walked out onto the stage, guitar in hand, feeling the lights shining on him, feeling the heat, seeing the blur of faces in the first few rows, but, most of all, hearing the tremendous roar of the crowd washing over him. It was not quite as loud as what he’d heard during Intemperance concerts, of course, since there were only about four thousand people out there, but it was no less thrilling, no less motivating, no less life-affirming.
Goddamn, I’ve missed this, Jake thought as he flashed a huge, genuine smile at the crowd, as he waved at them. Z met him halfway to his microphone stand. They exchanged a handshake and then pulled each other into a spontaneous bro-hug, just as if they’d known each other for years instead of just meeting for the first time a few hours ago. When the embrace broke, Laura came over to him next. They hugged tightly, each having to shift their respective instruments to the side to accomplish this, and then she kissed him soundly on the mouth, causing the cheers to ramp up in volume once again. A few wolf whistles drifted up as well.
He finished the walk to his microphone stand and, while the cheers were still going on, quickly located his guitar cord and unhooked it. He plugged it into his Brogan by feel and then gave a quick, instinctive sweep of it to keep it from tangling around his legs. He pulled a pick from the inlay of the guitar and held it between the thumb and index finger of his right hand. He then put his mouth to the microphone.
“Hello, Amarillo, Texas!” he greeted. “Thanks for letting me steal a little of Z’s show tonight!”
He had to wait out another round of applause and cheers. While waiting for it to die down, he checked positioning, seeing that Z was seated back at the piano and Laura now had her soprano sax in hand and was plugging in. Toadie was just disappearing back through the stage access door with her alto sax.
“All right!” Jake said. “Bear with me here, it’s been awhile since I’ve been up on stage, you know. Like Z said, we’re gonna do a little tune from my solo album that Laura and I put together with her on the soprano sax. Maybe you’ve heard it before. It’s called South Island Blur. I hope you like this.”
Another cheer swelled up. When it dampened back down, Jake glanced at the other musicians, got nods of readiness from them, and then he began to play, strumming out the opening melody of Blur. Just as they’d done in their rehearsal earlier, he went through one rep alone (generating another round of cheers) and then Laura began to play on the second rep. Z and the rest of the group joined in for the third rep. And then, after the fourth, they settled in and Jake began to sing his tale of hiding away in the far corner of the Earth and drinking his days and nights away.
They played the song almost to perfection. Again, it was just a bit rough on the transition from second verse to bridge, but that only seemed to add charm to the rendition. As Jake played and sang, he felt himself taken away by the lost but not forgotten thrill of performing. Everything else in his life—all of his worries, all of his doubts, all of his fears—became insignificant, forgotten. He basked in the vibes of love and appreciation he sensed flowing in from the audience out there on the floor of the college basketball arena. He did not want that sensation to end.
But soon, too soon, it did. The song came to an end and the loudest, most sustained applause of the night swept over him.
“Thank you,” Jake told the audience as he unplugged his guitar and draped the cord back on the hook. “You’ve been great. I appreciate you having me here. And thanks to Bobby Z for letting me come up here and play for you!”
“Jake Kingsley!” Z shouted into his microphone. “Let’s hear it for him!”
They heard it. Jake continued to bask in the applause as he walked back toward the stage left door. Z gave him a high five as he went by. Laura gave him another hug and a kiss on the cheek. Homer and Groove shook hands with him as he passed. And then he was off the stage and out of the lights, passing by Toadie, who was running out to give Laura back her alto sax for the next number.
“That was badass!” said Sally as he headed back out on the stage, trombone in hand.
“Thanks,” Jake said, shaking hands with him.
“Nice rendition,” said Squiggle. He clapped Jake on the back and then headed back out as well, disappearing before Jake had a chance to thank him.
Toadie came back in, carrying Laura’s soprano sax in his hands. He gave Jake a thumbs up and then carried the instrument over to its case and carefully set it inside.
“All right,” Z told the audience. “We’ll see if we can talk Jake into coming back out here a little later. But for now, back to your regularly scheduled Bobby Z concert. Let’s do it, guys!”
They did it. Jake resumed his position by the stage door, watching as they went on with the show, already looking forward to his next trip out onto that stage. After two more songs, Z and the rhythm section left the stage, leaving Laura, Squiggle, and Sally up there playing a complex and technical piece that involved Sally laying down a melody while Laura and Squiggle engaged in brief rounds of dueling solos.
“This is where your lady truly shines,” a freely perspiring Z told Jake between gulps out of a large bottle of Gatorade. “She composed this solo herself and it’s fuckin’ blistering, my man! Blistering! Dex himself couldn’t have done better.”
“Yeah?” Jake asked, proud to hear that.
“Yeah,” Z confirmed. “Check it out! It’s coming up now.”
The three horn blowers finished up their piece with a fancy harmonious flourish and then Squiggle and Sally stopped playing while Laura dragged out the final note. The trombonist and the trumpeter then trotted off stage, leaving Laura alone. The moment they disappeared, she launched into her solo.
“Damn,” Jake said, feeling his pride in her swell even more as she played up and down the scales, changing back and forth through different levels of tempo and intensity. She played with all of her heart and soul, moving her shoulders back and forth, her fingers moving rapidly and knowingly across the pads, her breath heaving in and out while sweat dripped from her face onto the stage. Z had not been bullshitting him. Jake had been playing with Dexter Price for a couple of months now and he was familiar with his style and talent level. Laura was every bit as good.