ALL ACCESS

Chapter 1

                                                          

Wonderland. The last train stop on the blue line letting you out onto Revere Beach Boulevard. In late spring and summer it became just that – a wonder land. Day or night, the strip came alive; music blasting out of the bars, the boardwalk crammed with people, the smell of salty air tinged with Hawaiian Tropic and pizza – Biancci's ooey-gooey deliciousness in a cardboard box, to be exact.

I strolled past the infamous pizza palace and Giuseppe stood behind the counter flipping dough. A grin formed on my face. The old man attempted to teach me how to do that once, and I was a flop just like the dough I had tried to manipulate. I would never land a job making pizza, but a slice of that heaven would stop the grumblings in my stomach right about now, but there was no time, maybe later. In anticipation I licked my lips then waved at the old man, he saw me watching and smiled back.

The main thoroughfare hadn't changed at all. Kelly's Roast Beef still had a long line of customers, finding a parking spot along the beach side of the road was still an ordeal, as evidenced by the standstill traffic and honking horns, and outside the Sand Bar and Lighthouse Lounge the cops were still ready to pounce on any biker who gave them lip.

Welcome home, Buttercup.

I ambled towards Daffney's Disco hoping that my best friend Julie, Jules to her friends, was there tonight. Right before I left, this was the last place she'd been working. Since Massachusetts hadn't yet raised the drinking age to twenty-one that meant Jules, who was nineteen, could still work in the bar. And, I hoped she was, as I needed a place to crash tonight and wanted to hear the gossip that went round after I disappeared. Her sister, Betty, must've caught major flak from their parents and the Donovans when I didn't return with her that warm spring night. I grinned as the memory washed over me.

~ ~ ~

Flux rolled into the Boston Garden to perform their sold out show on May 26, 1973. It had been a Saturday night, and I, Jessica Lauren Morgan, was there. My foster parents Ward and June, aka Bea and Davis Donovan knew people and got third row, floor seats as a surprise high school graduation and early birthday present for me. When they handed me the tickets I damn near exploded out of my Walter Dyer moccasins and student Levi jeans in excitement. A first, since the accident, and it made them smile.

Jules came down sick the night of the show, so I took her little sister, Betty. Her parents insisted she be home right after the show, but no way was I leaving without at least trying to meet my favorite band. Betty left while I stayed behind and made my way to the back of the concert hall where multiple limos sat waiting. My timing, impeccable. A man named Gus came out and gave a bunch of us girls backstage passes. I was giddy with excitement. To meet the band whose music pierced my scars, penetrated my soul, and warmed my frozen heart... Gus didn't just hand me a pass, he opened the door to a world I never wanted to leave. Wild, crazy, and right where I needed to be.

When I walked into the backstage area and saw all the people, a bead of sweat ran down my back as my knees knocked in staccato beat. Someone handed me a rum and coke. I chugged it down hoping the heavy dose of rum would settle my trembling hands and quell my freaked out nerves. One hour later, alive and feeling fine, I sat nursing my third drink and laughed at my earlier angst. When the band entered the room my hormones awoke and my internal temperature set itself on high. Flux's bass player, Derrick Tavish, and the drummer, Nick Sonning, grabbed some beers and chatted with some girls standing nearby. While my eyes scanned the room, along with most of the other girls, I listened into their conversation. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Chris Nickersen. And when he sauntered in ten minutes later, he didn't disappoint. A nod. A smile. His swagger, swoon worthy. Competition became fierce as the girls in the room eyed each other up for slaughter. I moved out of the kill zone and sat on a stool near the bar. All I wanted was to meet him, get his autograph, then die a happy, hormonally crazed girl.