One Voice

Connections

"Nextup at this "Festival of life through Music,"we have a local young man who writes his own songs.

"Youready for this Dan?"It was the familiar sound of Lenny, the one who had persuaded him tocome here today. Daniel looked around at him. He was grinning butstill couldn't quite hide his nervousness for his friend. Lennygrabbed his shoulder and then held his hand out to offer himsomething. Daniel looked down and saw the pills in his open palm. Heglanced back at Lenny in astonishment.

"What,are you joking?"he whispered above the noises out on the stage. Lenny held his gazeand offered an apologetic smile and then nodded down toward theoffering in his hand, "Dutchcourage, mate. It'll help you get through this, just this once." hesaid softly. Daniel shook his head in disbelief. How many times hadthey had this conversation? He wondered. Lenny knew how Daniel feltabout such "aids", that he would never try them or encouragethem. He knew that Lenny dabbled from time to time and he couldalways tell when Lenny was on something. They had long sinceestablished an understanding between them, that Lenny was free to dohis own thing and Daniel would not lecture him about the evils andthe dangers, as long as Lenny didn't try to involve Daniel in hiscustoms.

"Youknow my answer Len,"he stated firmly and matter-of-factly. But this time Lenny knew howanxious his friend was, and he was feeling guilty about pushingDaniel into doing this bold thing. Lenny shrugged but slipped thetablets into Daniel's jean pocket. "Justin case you need them mate, they can make you bold."

Daniel had to admit to himself silently that, if ever he needed to besomeone else, to be daring, it was now. He peered from the side ofthe curtains at the gathering in the field. The fragile, makeshiftplatform he was standing on creaked beneath him as he shifted hisposition nervously. He felt his guitar slide against his sweatingpalm and had to grip it even tighter. Many thoughts raced through hismind as he waited to find the courage to step out in front of themeagre audience of about 150 people. "Why was he here, what was hehoping to achieve? What if they hated his songs? Why were they hereanyway? Was this just a cool place to be on a sunny Saturdayafternoon?

His thoughts were suddenly disturbed by the voice over themicrophone. Daniel froze as he heard it declare his name publicly forthe first time;

"Pleasegive a warm welcome to Daniel."

There were a few isolated claps and some faint "woo"s andwhistles but, all in all, it was a very muted and docile reaction.Daniel forced his legs to comply with his tormented mind and hestepped onto the platform. Immediately the sun dazzled his visionand, for a few seconds he was unable to focus on the crowd assembledbefore him. After regaining his senses, he reached the microphone andpaused, peering out at the small river of faces. Many had their backsturned to him. Some were carrying drinks backwards and forwards amongthe crowd. He heard faint conversations continuing, and laughterechoing from somewhere at the back. Daniel was terrified. This feltso unnatural and forced to him. His throat had dried to anuncomfortable degree and his hands were severely tight around hisguitar. He could not look the crowd in the eye but dropped his head.He had the urge to run, disappear and abandon this insane adventure.He was not an entertainer. He was not a confident person, a star or acharismatic figure. He was Daniel. For a moment he felt lost in time,as his mind went blank. He turned to see the host waving at himfrantically. Daniel looked back at the crowd. Some of them had nowfocused their attention on him fully, adding to his discomfort. Whatcould he do? Why was he here?