He could not quite go on. He did not really need to though. Laura finally started picking up what he was laying down. “Ohhhh,” she said. “You want to know if you can give Dan a request.”
He looked down at the floor again, his face blushing an alarming shade of red, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I was wondering.”
She nodded. “And I assume you’re not talking about a female groupie, right?”
“Uh ... right,” he said. “I really ... uh ... don’t do the whole heterosexual sex thing. I tried it once back in high school.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t ... uh ... you know... perform.”
“Just weren’t into it?”
“I really wanted to be,” he said. “It would have made my parents very happy and lifted a really big burden off of me, but ... no ... I wasn’t into it.”
“So, that’s when you chose to be gay, huh?” Laura asked, deadpan.
Eric looked up at her, his eyes looking into hers for the first time all day. He saw that she was kidding. Currently, the unmovable dogma in conservative and religious circles was that homosexuality was deviant behavior that people chose to engage in, because if one chose to do something like being sexually attracted to one’s own gender, then one was not entitled to a few basic human rights and could even be legally discriminated against in matters of marriage, employment, or even the ability to openly display affection for one’s partner. As if people like Eric would voluntarily choose to be a part of a downtrodden minority just for the sake of rebellion and nonconformity. But Laura did not move in conservative or religious circles much these days. She knew Eric, or Phil, or Dexter, or Z had no more chosen to be gay than she had chosen to have red hair and small boobs.
Eric smiled at her, a rare occurrence indeed. “You had me going for a second there,” he told her.
She smiled back. “I’m like that sometimes,” she said. “Anyway, if you want to get yourself ... you know ... some companionship for after the show, I’m sure Dan can arrange that for you. All you have to do is ask and tell him what you want.” She blushed. “Uh ... at least that’s what I understand.”
“Ask him?” Eric said, his smile disappearing in an instant. “I couldn’t do that.”
“Then how would he know that you have needs to be taken care of?” she asked simply.
He shook his head. “I’ll just forget about it,” he said. “Something will come along eventually.”
“How will something come along?” she wanted to know. “You never talk to anyone, Eric. You have to get over some of your shyness and let people know what you want.”
“I’m trying,” he said (though she had seen no evidence of this), “but Dan is so ... intimidating.”
“Danny’s a great guy,” Laura said.
“He’s so big, so daunting.” He shook his head again. “No. I can’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to get the words out of my mouth.”
Laura nodded, suspecting he was right. “Well ... how about if I ask him for you?” she suggested.
“You ask him?”
“That’s right,” she said. “What are friends for?”
He thought this over for a moment and then nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. “I guess that could work.”
“All right then,” Laura said, standing up. “Let’s go do it.”
A look of alarm appeared on his face. “Right now? Right here?”
“No time like the present,” she said. “Come on.”
“I have to come with you?” the look of alarm was now approaching panic.
“Yes, you have to come with me,” she said. “I don’t know what kind of ... uh ... companionship you have in mind.”
“Oh ... I guess that makes sense,” he agreed, “but ... well ... couldn’t we just...”
“No,” she said. “Now come on. Let’s go do this thing.”
He reluctantly followed her over to the corner of the stage left area, where Dan was now standing alone, his radio hanging from his belt, watching the entrance that led back toward the loading doors.
“Hey, Danny,” she greeted as they came up to him. “You got a minute?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Well ... Eric here...” She looked and saw he was hovering back out of earshot, staring furiously at the floor. She stepped back and dragged him forward, so he was in the little circle of conversation. “Eric was hoping that maybe you could find him ... you know ... some company for after the show tonight.”
Dan looked at the skinny violinist who he had not passed more than a dozen words with since the tour started. “A request?”
“That’s right,” Laura said. “A request. Do you think you could accommodate him?”
“No problem at all,” Dan said without hesitation. “You’re gay, right, Eric?”
Eric muttered something inaudible.
“What was that?” Dan asked.
“He is gay,” Laura replied for him.
Dan simply nodded, no sign of judgement on his face or in his eyes. “I’m assuming you are requesting a male companion then?”
Eric nodded, making no attempt at speech this time.
“Shouldn’t be an issue,” Dan said. “There’s always a few twinks hanging out with the usual crowd at the selection points.”
“The selection points?” Laura asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “The places where the groupies gather and wait for possible selection. You see, over the years, the system has developed so that full-on habitual groupies, which are defined as women, or men in this case, who will do anything just to be the companion of a famous musician for a night, or even the companion of someone just loosely connected to the group, and who are willing to pay the price to get there, gather in certain places in the venue before, during, and after the show. Near the soundboard is a primary area, but also at the side entrances to the stage and in the loading area outside the rear doors.”
“No kidding?” Laura asked, fascinated by his story. She had never really thought much about how the security guys found the groupies—she had always kind of assumed they just went strolling through the crowd and asking likely looking prospects. She had no idea that there were established staging areas for them, but, now that it was explained, it made sense.
“No kidding,” he assured her matter-of-factly. “Anyway, my point is there’s always a few twinks hanging out on every tour no matter who the band is because lots of times there’s a closeted homo or two in the group—especially in country groups. With your band, however, there’s always been a larger selection of them even though we’ve never actually brought any back.”
“Why?” Laura asked.
“Why have we never brought any back?” Dan said. “Because no one has ever asked for any until tonight.”
“No, I mean, why do we have more of them than other tours,” she clarified.
“Oh ... because of Charlie,” Dan said. “Why else? Remember, he was openly gay for quite a few years before his miraculous epiphany that he’s really hetero. Even though he’s never asked for a guy, the twinks hang onto their hopes.”
“Interesting,” Laura said. “Isn’t that cool, Eric?”
Eric muttered something that was inarticulate but that carried the tone of agreement that yes, that was cool.
“All right then,” Dan said, whipping out a small notebook from his back pocket. There was a cheap ballpoint pen attached to the binding of it. He removed the pen, clicked out the tip, opened the book, and then looked at Eric, preparing to write. “So ... what are we talking here, my friend? I’m going to assume you want a topper?”
Eric nodded.
“Should be easy enough,” Dan said, scratching a note down. “Young, old, blonde, brunette, bald? Gimmee some details here.”
“I ... I want him to be nice,” Eric said softly.
“Nice,” Dan said, writing that down. “I’ll make sure of it. What else?”
“That’s ... uh ... that’s all,” Eric said.