The Gods of Rock 'n' Roll

Night Moves: Allison

Chapter Six

"What in the sam hell are you doing here, gorgeous?"

When Sal and Allison arrived at Night Moves after an afternoon of shopping, eating, bowling, eating, and people watching while eating again, Allison couldn't stop smiling. She'd had so much fun with Sal. It was almost like being with Robbie.

"You'd know if you answered your phone, old man!"

She hugged her uncle and breathed easier now that she was in his presence. He'd help her regroup and make a plan. He was good at that. Maybe he'd even come out on the road with her. The dude played guitar like few ever could hope to.

"I had guests. Well, a guest." He laughed at the face Allison gave him. "Hey, I may be old, but that doesn't mean I don't have needs."

"Ew!" Allison exclaimed, slugging him in the gut playfully. "Overshare!"

"Oh, come on, don't be a prude, Sonny! You know if that shoe-rental guy would have been a foot taller you would have been all over his ass, comb-over and all!"

Sal got the slug this time as Allison protested. She hadn't corrected him for calling her Sonny, despite the fact that Robbie had been the only one to ever call her that.

"No way! He was hot for you," she said, her belly hurting from all the laughing she'd done in his presence. For a cocky bastard, he sure was a lot of fun.

"Uncle Jonas, this is Salvador Kinney. Sal, my uncle Jonas Andrews."

Sal's eyes got wide. "No fucking way! Jonas Andrews? The Jonas Andrews who played with Clapton and Buddy Guy and—"

"It's just Jonas, and welcome to Vegas, Sal. We've all played with someone great around here. You throw a rock and you'll hit some washed-up has-been."

The two men shook hands and Allison found herself still giggling as they both carried on about their heroes, who they'd want to play with, and so on. Allison glanced around the bar. Jonas had apparently been working here for a while, but she hadn't been here before. There were several folks already seated at tables eating bar food, which would have smelled delicious if she and Sal hadn't been eating all day. There was a mostly older crowd, late thirties into AARP territory, but there was a good vibe and with the amount of cross-table conversations going on, it was clear these folks were regulars.  The off-strip location probably added to the quality of the crowd as well. Playing for tourists could be a drag.

"You want to sit in with me tonight, Allison? Humor an old man?"

"You aren't old, Uncle Jonas. Maybe well-seasoned, but not old."

"She sings the blues, too? Damn, girlfriend! Is there anything you can't sing?"

"Latin? My Spanish pronunciation sucks."

They had about an hour before the music started for Allison to look over the set list of the house band. Jonas even invited Sal to sing a few numbers if he wanted. Sal tried to play if off like it was no big deal, but Allison could tell he was flattered.

There was an opener who played acoustic guitar and sang some originals. He had a decent voice and the songs were clever, not quite hipster annoying, but definitely bordering on pretentious. After an hour, the bar was standing room only. Jonas signaled to the opener to wrap up from behind the bar where Sal and Allison had been nursing free beers. Then it was time for them to play.

Jonas handed his duties over to a couple of hot chicks with attitude, his recipe for success behind any bar, and they made their way onstage. The crowd applauded Jonas before he even started talking. He had to wait a few beats because the crowd was so enthusiastic. Their joy gave Allison a rush of energy and she looked forward to losing herself for a few hours in the old tunes she'd loved to hear Jonas play and sing. He'd taught her to play them as a child. He'd taught her so much. To be considered good enough to play with him onstage, even at this little joint, was a huge honor.