Page 95 of The Music Demon

The song was followed by silence. Other than one guy who gave him an appreciative chin lift, everybody just went back to their conversations.

Cass didn’t clap or cheer or whistle or boo. The only indication of her impression was the gigantic grin on her face. She stood suddenly and closed the eight-foot distance between them.

Doo unplugged and pulled the guitar strap over his head. “This guitar is the definition of righteous.”

She glanced down at the guitar, but her eyes came right back up. “I know why you thought you’re what I’m looking for.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re whateverybody’slooking for.” That was a déjà vu moment for Doo. “You’re the deal. The package. Looks. Voice. Chops. Charisma. I guess you know that. And I guess there’s nothing wrong with you knowing that. Probably not a lot of room for humility in rock and roll.” When she realized she was basically talking to herself, out loud, she blinked twice and said, “Do you know how to manage a crowd?”

Doo opened his mouth to speak, but what came out was a good-natured laugh. “No idea. I’ve never played to a gatherin’ that could be called a ‘crowd’.”

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That thing you did with your fingers?” She demonstrated air quotes.

His face went blank when he realized he’d fucked up again.

“I just meant the idea ofcrowdis flatterin’. Probably the most people I’ve played to is…,” he paused while doing a mental review of every performance, “I don’t know. Maybe forty?”

She cocked her head. “I just got it.”

“Got what?”

“That thing with your fingers. You were putting crowd in quotation marks.” She shook her head. “You’re weird and cool at the same time, Doo Darby.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

She looked at her watch. “Big bitchin’ welcome. We can talk tonight.”

“Sure. I’ll pick you up at…”

He was clearly wanting her to fill in the blank.

“Seven fifteen?”

“You won’t forget.”

She pulled her chin back. “I don’t shine on friends. And I’m jazzed about tonight.”

“I’m a friend? Even better. I’m a jazz friend?”

“Weird, but cool.” Smiling, while shaking her head, she walked away. “Later.”

Walking back to his attic apartment, Doo played events over and over in his head. Laughter bubbled to the surface three times and he did nothing to suppress it. That earned him a mixture of odd looks, knowing smiles, and a couple of two-fingered peace gestures.

Talking to one of classic rock’s history makers paled in comparison to spending time with Cass. He didn’t want to dwell on the thought too long that maybe he’d already been in love with her, the person she was, before he arrived in 1967. It made sense as to why girls his own age had never held any attraction beyond the briefest sexual interludes with the least talking possible.

He hoped Lyric would stop in so he could share the news about his ‘audition’, about the pitch perfect synchronicity, and that, at twenty-two, she’d been… or rather was a beauty beyond compare.

That his own Cass turned out to be the Haight music ‘matchmaker’? The first woman he’d ever asked out on a date?

Inconceivable.

CHAPTER THIRTEENRidin’ the Storm Out