Sisters In Sanity Part 8

"Hi Brit." Jed smiled.

"Hi Jed," I said again.

Erik interrupted us. "Dudes, hate to cut the reunion short, but we gotta go play."

"Oh, of course. I'll just meet you guys after. I wanna get a good seat."

"Seat?" Jed looked at me like I must have been kidding. "You're playing too."

"I am?"

"Of course you are," Jed insisted. "You're a quarter Clod."

"But not anymore. You guys are totally doing awesome." I tried not to sound disappointed. "And besides, it's been six months. Who knows if I'll even remember how to play."

"You will," Jed said.

"But I don't have my guitar."

"Oh man, wait here," Erik said, and ran to the back of the van again. He pulled out my Gibson SG, my old friend.

"Where did you get this?" I wrapped my arms around my guitar as if it could hug me back.

"Girl, you're losing it," Denise said. "It was in Jed's bas.e.m.e.nt, where you left it."

"Waiting for you," Jed said, looking straight into my eyes. I felt faint again.

"But I'm out of practice, and you must have new songs..."

"Can we stop it with the excuses already? Are you not the Brit who barged her way into this band through sheer att.i.tude even though you were just a kid and hardly knew how to play?" Denise asked.

I hoped I still was. "Yeah, I'm still that girl," I said tentatively.

"Well then, shut up already, and get tuned." Denise gave me her best tough chick look.

"Here's set list A," Jed said. "Golden oldies. All songs you know."

"What was set list B?" I asked.

"The one with newer stuff. We would have played that if you didn't show," Jed admitted.

"But wouldn't you rather...?"

Jed cut me off. "We have plenty of other shows to play that stuff. Tonight, we're doing this set."

"Brit, will you stop it with the questions? Do you think we came to Utah because of its punk-rock pedigree?" Denise asked. "We came to play a show with you."

"You did?"

"Oh dude. She is gonna cry," Erik said. "Let's go."

Clod's first gig was in Eugene. I was a bundle of nerves before it started, even though it was just a backyard keg party near the university. When we set up, I was shaking so much I thought I wouldn't be able to strum or sing or remember the lyrics to our songs. But then we switched on the amps, and Jed sent a wave of feedback out. The crowd quieted, Erik counted back on his drumsticks, and we started playing. All of a sudden, it wasn't like I was in front of a crowd, or even with the rest of the band. I was alone with the music and it all just came to me instinctively. We played for a half hour, but it went by like it was seconds. When we finished, I was in a daze. Then, after, I was completely giddy. I couldn't stop laughing all night. Erik was convinced I was stoned.

When Erik clipped his drumsticks for the start of "Dumbbell" at Cafenomica, I went into a similar trance. The last six months-no, the last few years-just washed away from me. I was Brit again. The girl who did what she wanted to. The girl who had a mom and dad who loved her. The girl who had a regular, if slightly eccentric, life. It was like the music healed me, giving me back myself, my confidence, reminding me that the last six months weren't my real life. Real life was something wonderful, and though it seemed far away to me at the time, it still existed. I still existed.

We finished the set and bounded backstage. The crowd was going berserk. "Boy, they're really digging us," Denise said.

"They probably don't get much music out here," Erik said. I wanted to tell him that that was what Ansley had said to me, but I couldn't get my mouth to work. The crowd was still clapping, pounding on the tables, chanting "more."

"I think we have to go back out there," Jed said.

"What should we play?" Denise asked.

"I dunno," Jed said. "That was our entire set."

"I know. You guys go out and play something without me. It's cool."

"No. No way," Jed said. "That chanting out there, it's for all of us. We'll just do a cover."

"Covers are a cop-out." Clod did covers at practices, for fun, but we never played them at live shows. It was a point of pride with us. "I have an idea," I said. "Okay guys, listen. It's a straight G, D, A minor. Ballady. If I start, can you just fall in? It's pretty basic."

"G, D, A minor. I can handle that," Jed said. "You got it?" he nodded to Denise.

"And slowish, Erik. I know you like speed but this one's quiet. Use your brushes."

"Got it. Mellow."

I went out on the stage and picked up my guitar. "This song is for my Sisters. And for my band, too. It's called 'I Got Your Back.' Ready, guys?" And then I started strumming, and as always Jed picked up the riff, followed by Denise and Erik, and it was like we all knew the song, like we'd always played it. After I finished, the audience was on its feet, stamping and screaming. We all waved and ran offstage.

"Is it just me, or was that the greatest show?" Denise gushed.

"It wasn't just you," Jed said quietly. "This was special."

Afterward, we loaded up and, just like old times, went to Denny's and gorged ourselves. I ordered blueberry pancakes, a burger and fries, a shake, and of course endless cups of coffee. Maybe it was the show or my nerves, or maybe Denny's food tasted unbelievably delicious after six months of Red Rock freeze-dried c.r.a.p. When the waitress brought out my multiple entrees, everyone laughed, but then they seemed concerned.

"They starving you in there?" Denise said.

"Hmm, nrot quwrite," I said, mouth full.

"This girl always could pack away her body weight in food," Erik said. "But chill with the coffee or you won't sleep."

"I don't care. We're not allowed coffee in that place. Can you imagine six months without a cup of coffee?"

"Whoa, they are starving you in there. Isn't there some human-rights law about denying coffee?" Like most people from Portland, Denise took her caffeine addiction very seriously.

"I wish," I said.

"So this Denny's swill must taste like champagne," Jed said.

"The Dom Perignon of java," I admitted.

"Life without good coffee. Dude, it makes you appreciate what you've got," Erik said.

"Amen to that," Jed said, looking at me kind of funny.

As we ate, they caught me up on all the latest news on the Clod-front. After the Indian Summer Festival that I missed, they'd been booked all over Oregon and Was.h.i.+ngton, in clubs, even in some bigger venues opening for other bands. A couple of indie labels were talking about making a single, or maybe even a whole CD. They kept rea.s.suring me that when I got back, my place was still there, and they weren't looking for a replacement. "We make a decent trio," Denise said. "But we're better as a foursome."

"Hear, hear," Erik said, holding up his cup.

Around two, Denise and Erik started yawning. Denise pointed to her watch. "We should probably get some shut-eye," she said.

"Are you driving out tonight?" I asked. We often napped in the back of the van before driving on after a show.

"Nah. Next stop is Spokane, which is miles from here. But we don't have to be there until the day after tomorrow, so we're cras.h.i.+ng at a Motel 6."

"Wow, motels. You guys are big-time now."

"We make enough at the door now to at least cover the tour. And to pay for your enormous meal," Erik said as he swooped up the bill.

We made our way back to the van, Erik making a big show of letting me ride shotgun. I was still feeling giddy and way wired on the coffee, but as we drove through town, it hit me that the night was ending. I wasn't going on to Spokane and the next fun place. I was going back there. It was like someone turned the lights out and I got instantly depressed. A weird mood descended on all of us, no one talking or joking like we'd been just a few minutes before. When I spotted the Motel 6 sign in the distance, I felt empty inside, a huge pit in my Denny's-bloated stomach.

"What about you?" Jed asked me as he pulled into the driveway.

"What about me?"

"When do you have to be back?"

"Roll call's at seven, but I should probably be back before it gets light. Around six, I guess."

"Do you feel like staying out? Maybe taking a drive? I don't want to get you busted-"

"No," I interrupted. "I mean, don't worry about me. I want to stay out."

"I'm glad. Me too," he said.

When we dropped off Denise and Erik at the motel, they gave me a giant group hug. I felt sad to see them go but also so excited to be alone with Jed-at least for a few hours.

"You hang in there, girl."

"Thanks, Denise. I'll be okay."

"I know you will."

"Here's a little something to get you through the rough times," Erik said, offering me a Baggie full of pot.

"No thanks, Erik."

"Really? It's the kind bud."

"Moron. She doesn't even smoke, and she's like in prison," Denise said. "Sorry, Brit."

"No, it's fine. Thanks, Erik. I appreciate the thought."

"Okay, we'll see you back in P-town," he said.

"Absolutely." I gave them one last hug good-bye, then I climbed back into the van with Jed. "So, where are you taking me?"

"I thought we'd drive into the mountains. Zion National Park is pretty close to here. I went there with my grandparents once. It's got these really unusual rock formations, all named after Mormon prophets. It's intense. I don't know how much we can see at night, but we've almost got a full moon." He pointed out the window to where the moon was s.h.i.+ning bright and white.

"It sounds great. I haven't seen much of the area."

"Don't you get out, to walk around or anything?

"Not really. They have these hikes when the weather is warmer, but they're more like marches. It's not about enjoying the scenery."

"It sounds awful, this place you're in. I looked it up on the Internet. Really scary stuff."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"You know what? I'd rather just forget that place for tonight."

Jed smiled, but he looked sad. "What place?" he asked.

We drove along a winding road uphill. The moon was reflecting off the giant, sheer red cliffs jutting straight out of the canyons. I stared out the window in between sneaking glances at Jed-mainly at the side of his neck. I had such an urge to lick it, imagining the taste, salty with dried sweat. We wound through the mountains, Jed playing me songs that had been released within the last six months, music that I'd missed. After about a half hour, we pulled into a town called Springdale, and Jed parked the van. "I think this is the end of the road. The park starts now. We can just walk from here. If you want."

"I'd like that."

"Are you cold?"

I was freezing. All I had on was the skirt Martha had st.i.tched me and a sweats.h.i.+rt I'd borrowed from Ansley. I nodded. Jed pawed through the back and pulled out his beat-up brown suede jacket, the one he wore everywhere, the one I used to sneak sniffs of when he wasn't looking. "Here, you wear this. And I'll grab a blanket in case we need reinforcements."

We walked into the park and Jed tried to catch me up on life in Portland. He made me laugh with gossip about who was dating whom, which band had broken up, who had gotten a record deal. I had forgotten how easy it was to talk to him, and all my nerves from earlier in the evening vanished. We walked for a half hour, until we found ourselves in a gra.s.sy clearing next to a small river.

"Want to stop awhile?"

I wanted to stop for more than a while. I wanted to freeze-frame the night, leave it so it would go on forever, even though I had to be back in a few hours. But I just said yes. Jed spread out the blanket, and we lay down. The sky was amazing, full of millions of stars and so crisp you could see the Milky Way. "I forgot how clear it was out here," Jed said. I was lying right next to him, so close I could see the faint veins in his earlobes. I reached over and squeezed his wrist.

"Thank you, Jed."

"For what?"

"For everything. For the letters, for dragging the band to Utah. For this," I said, gesturing to the sky.

He took my hand and stroked my palm. "I didn't do it for you," he said in a quiet voice. "Not entirely." Then he took both my hands in his grasp and kissed me on the inside of each wrist, moving his way up with feathery kisses to my elbows, my shoulders, my neck. By the time he reached my lips, my whole body was humming with antic.i.p.ation, and the kiss itself, it was like melting chocolate. We stayed there for a while, kissing and touching. And then Jed started to laugh.

"G.o.d, I've been wanting to do that for too long."