Different Circles

Everyone else stayed in the trailer and lounged around. They watched television or read books. Just after noon, a catering truck showed up in Band City and provided them with sandwiches and tacos for lunch. Everyone ate well and then went back to waiting. Throughout this period, they could hear the frequent thumping of bass guitars, the occasional solo when it edged into the higher range, and the constant up and down roaring of the huge crowd that had assembled in the amphitheater. Jake had heard from one of the security guys that well over ninety-five thousand tickets had been sold for today’s show and only slightly less for tomorrow’s.

Another catering truck showed up just past five o’clock. This one provided hamburgers, French fries, and bratwurst. Jake ate lightly this time, knowing that he wanted his stomach and bowels empty when it came time to take the stage. His innate sense of mild stage fright ramped up slowly but steadily as the hours marched by. Ben, Ted, and the others all returned just past six o’clock, all declaring that had no desire to see Hole or Pantera, the next two bands to play.

At 6:30, everyone began to get dressed in their stage clothes. This was a bit of a process because there was only one bathroom in the trailer and the company was mixed. The problem was solved by having Pauline, Celia, Natalie, and Laura step out so the guys could get dressed and then having the guys step out so Pauline, Natalie, and Laura could get dressed. Jake dressed simply, as he always had when he had a choice in what to wear while performing. He pulled on a pair of denim blue jeans he had owned just long enough to be broken in, a black, button-up short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of black and white Nike tennis shoes. He combed out his hair, which was back to shoulder length these days, and hit it with a little hairspray to keep it from blowing about too much—they were outside and there was a fairly respectable ten knot wind blowing over the desert. He kept his wedding ring on as he had found it presented no problems with his guitar chording. He did some warmup exercises to limber up his voice as he got ready. Phil, who had had to be told what to wear because his sense of fashion was so terrible (those who knew him considered him the worst gay guy ever as he was a slob, had no sense of décor, and no sense of fashion) joined him in the voice exercises and they took the opportunity to practice up on their harmony a bit. All of the males dressed similar to Jake, leaning heavily on dark colored shirts to keep the sun and the stage lights from reflecting too much and making them indistinguishable to the audience. G added a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses to disguise himself. Natalie and Pauline dressed in pantsuits with dark colored blouses that accented their breasts. They put their hair in ponytails and used a considerable amount of hairspray for hold. Laura dressed in one of her summer dresses she had brought from the wardrobe of the Celia Valdez tour. It was the green and white one that fell to just above her knees. She wore white sneakers on her feet and dressed her hair in a tight braid that fell down to her mid-back. She wore no makeup but looked achingly cute all the same.

Once everyone was dressed, they went back to waiting. Jake, Phil, G, and Pauline continued their voice exercises and harmony practice, continuing to loosen up the cords. Everyone else simply sat around, fidgeting and watching the clock. Finally, at 7:30 PM, there came a knock on their door. It was the security guy again. It was time to report to the stage.

“All right,” Jake said to his group. “Let’s do this thing.”

Those who would be playing up on the stage or supervising the sound filed out of the trailer and followed the security guy single file, all with varying degrees of nervousness and trepidation spinning in their respective heads. Those who would be watching the show—Obie and Celia—stayed behind. They would make their way to the special VIP section right before Jake and the band took the stage.

Pantera was in the final throes of their biggest hit, Walk, when Jake and company made their way into the roped off walkway that led to their stage. Jake did not have a very good view of Dimebag and Phil and the boys because Stage 1 was at an angle to them and twenty yards away. But he could hear them just fine. In fact, their volume was ear-shattering, so loud that one could barely understand the lyrics, could not hear the bass as being separate from the guitar.

“No,” Jake said, giving a little shake of the head in response to the hook line of the song. “I am not talking to you.”

Nobody heard him over the music. He could barely hear himself.