Blind Man's Bluff

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Once on the bus, Chris moved familiarly around.  The smell of food was strong, and the rustle of sacks and takeout containers was also familiar.  Sliding into the booth seat that curved around the table to the end spot that had become his, the spot that anyone moved from when he ventured into this area from any other area of the bus, he began to wolf down the takeout placed before him. The guys talked above a basketball game on the television--one that most likely had aired live, earlier during their show, and had recorded on the DVR.  

Stored in the lobes of his brain were his own recordings, and lost in tonight's events after the show, he gave a start when Lanie spoke. 

"That looks good.  I miss food." 

"You never liked tacos."  Automatically, he answered her, and simultaneously, three replies were returned. 

"Who? I know you are not talking about me."  Hunter joked around a stuffed mouth. 

"I would like them now..."  Lanie. 

"Who never liked tacos bro?"  Jake laughed. 

Wiping at some sort of food spray, most likely from Hunter, Chris shrugged.  "I dunno.  Thought someone didn't." 

"Look, Chris, bro, I called Randy.  There’s no show tomorrow. And the day of the, um,"  Jake hem-hawed around, leaving no doubt what day he was speaking of, and Chris sadly let his taco drop.  "...day of the services, we take the stage at eight.  So he's checking for a flight out of Williamsburg tomorrow, and back Friday." 

Randy was the band manager, and was fairly cool except for his coke habit which, when indulged, was the cause of extreme mood swings.  He traveled in an SUV, in their caravan of vehicles, from town to town.  For a few months, Randy had taken the bus with them, but then his girlfriend had joined the tour, and from then on, he had ridden with her. 

"Yeah.  Thanks."  Chris unconsciously drummed his fingers on the table and vaguely contemplated whether he wanted the remainder of his tacos.  He had no appetite, but he had also just taken his antibiotics, and once dissolved, the medicine always burned his stomach all night if he hadn't eaten enough. 

The table jarred as someone left, and he heard the clatter of the X-Box controllers and then an argument over the real game that was on versus the virtual game that Hunter wanted to play. 

Jake's voice was respectfully reverent as he continued speaking of the funeral trip.  "I hate that you would have to come right back after...that.  But Randy said that to cancel and reschedule Friday's show would cost a fine of thirty thousand." 

A fine of thirty thousand seemed meaningless right now, but he would never put the other guys out like that, and at the moment, he didn't have the cash to cover it by himself.  Besides, it was a crazy situation.  If he were going to see Lanie, he would come up with any amount of money.   

But he was going to her funeral...most likely with her.... 

"It's okay.  Thanks."  Repeating yet another gratuity to his friend and bandmate, he lifted the discarded taco.  

 "Don't even think about blowing off that show."  Lanie's words were gentle.  "Don't screw up your future.  You really don't even have to go to my, my thing.  You know that right?" 

Having learned enough from a moment ago, during the crazy taco discussion, not to answer, he remained  quiet and forced a bite to his teeth. 

"We good to go?"  The question came from behind him, and shortly after the acknowledgments, the bus began to roll.  Their driver, Edward, always said the same thing.  Words meant to ensure was that anyone who was not traveling to the next town was off the bus.