Rock 'N' Roll Singer

𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬

     14 December 1978
After Mark's little stunt, we carried on through the week. From that point on, we had to crack down on his brand of fun. I bribed Sheila with a never-ending night of partying with one of Mark's mates' bands to make sure he was alright every morning. She would shout, You having fun? in my ear over and over as I slowly grew deaf from the mumbling singer. I just nodded and pretended that I could tell the difference between the two of them.

But, our band was intact, as well as Jack's mailbox, which Jack was very happy about. Fortunately for him, his mum was too busy watching her soaps to hear the not-that-loud thud! of Mark's van hitting the mailbox. It also helped that Jack knew to keep his mouth shut about it rather than crack under the pressure and blurt the truth out. We had gotten to perform with Mark for the first time yesterday, and it reminded me that the trouble was worth it to have him on bass. He rocked those four little strings.

The day after that gig and my night with Sheila, everyone seemed a bit stiff while playing. Not necessarily bad, just a bit faster or slower than usual.

"What if McLaren's abandoned us?" Joey asked, stealing my anxious thunder. "I haven't been able to reach him. I can only talk to his secretary, and she wouldn't tell me anything. She just kept saying. 'He'll be back in his office soon.'"

"Nah, he wouldn't do that," Mark assured us. "That just wouldn't be cool of him."

"Screw 'cool.'" I yawned. "Maybe he bit off more than he could chew taking us on like this."

"Calm down, Blondie. It's gonna be alright, got it? Don't go all crazy on us now."

"He made a promise to us, and we haven't been able to get in contact with him. I say it's a good time to go a bit crazy."

"Jack!" Mrs. Bell hollered from the living room.

"Not now, mum." Her son shouted back through the door leading to the rest of the house. "Our band is having a bit of a breakdown."

"Well, stop having one for a damn minute. Phone for you."

"If it's Aunt Rosemary, tell her I got the jumper, and it itches like hell. It's also hot as blazes around Christmas."

"You can whine to her later. This is some bloke named Tom."

Jack, Joey, and I fought our way through the narrow hall leading from the garage to the living room. Mark was probably watching from behind, laughing at our desperation.

"I've got it!" I shouted.

"Gimme the phone!" Jack called.

"No, me!" Cried Joey.

Using a leap-frog strategy, I snagged the phone and said Hello?! into the receiver. I had the boys harshly breathing against me as we awaited an answer.

"Hello, Marie, my Olivia Newton-John," Tom sang.

"You sound pretty happy."

"Oh, I am. I just got back from speaking with some of my crew from Juke Joint. Not only did I get you guys a gig, but it's also going to be your television debut. Am I good or what?"

The receiver slipped out of my hand and swung from the cord attaching it to the wall.

"Marie?" Jack asked, staring deep into my face. "What happened?"

I sucked in a breath and held onto the phone to keep from fidgeting.

"We're going to be on television."