The Link Pt. 02: The Hunted

"He's going to MIT," I said, thinking out loud. "Full-ride."

"Damn," Wendy said with surprise, "brains and music. And you must admit, he didn't exactly hit the ugly trees."

"He needs to cut his hair," I said without thinking.

"That's the artist," Wendy said. She chuckled, "If you told him to shave it off, he would."

"He would not!"

"Today he would," Wendy said. "Men loose all judgment when they are in love."

"He's not in love!"

"If you say so," Wendy said, pointing down the block. "I've wanted to look in that antique store there. You mind?"

"No," I replied, "I'm not as smart as he his."

"Let's cross here," Wendy said, seeing that the traffic was clear. "What's that got to do with it?"

"I have no musical talent," I added.

"Like I do," Wendy laughed. "Did I tell you that Tom arrested me once?"

"What?" I asked, "Like a citizens arrest."

"No, no," Wendy continued. "He was a cop a lifetime ago. A bartender got a little fresh with me and - well - let's just say the bartender was claiming assault, and Tom was the cop that showed up." I tried to stifle my laugh and failed. Wendy found it amusing. "It took him two minutes to realize that the asshole deserved the beer in his face, but he threatened to arrest me anyway. He had the same eyes for me that Caleb has for you. I was halfway to the police station before I finally agreed to a date with him."

"That's illegal," I pointed out.

"It was lovely," Wendy said. Her smile was huge. "He wasn't the best looking man. Not the most articulate or even romantic. He simply saw something in me and desired it beyond reason." Wendy looked at me. "Nothing else mattered after that. Three dates later and I wanted him naked more than anything." I covered my mouth with my hand. Wendy enjoyed shocking me. "Love doesn't have any rules."

"He risked his job for you," I said, enjoying the romance.

"Not really," Wendy corrected me. "He had already put in his notice." She opened the door for me at the antique store. The place smelled of musty wood.

"Still, he risked a lot," I said, trying to preserve the romance.

"Oh, look at that rolltop," Wendy said, pointing at an old desk with a bunch of little nooks. We started walking over. "Tom had some kind of religious experience. An epiphany if you like. I guess I was part of it. He started playing his sax and never looked back."

"You can't put a monitor on this," I said absently, looking at the desk.

"Nope," Wendy said smiling, "this is pre-email furniture." I had to admit it looked kind of cool with all its cubby holes. She ran her hand along the curved edge as if it were silk. "Imagine writing a letter and waiting a week or so for a response."

"Texting is faster," I said.

"Yes," Wendy sighed.

"So," I said, "Tom turned over his life for you." Wendy laughed.

"I think I did most of the turning," Wendy said. "He was on a path of discovery and just knew I would like to ride along. I became the pseudo-manager, and the rest is history. It's a good life, though. We're happy and unlike some musicians, he doesn't stray."

"I like these," I said, pointing out some oval end tables. They were stained dark but had floral inlays that were done in a much lighter wood. I ran my fingers along it and couldn't feel the edges of the inlays.

"Those are nice," Wendy agreed. "They don't make furniture like they used too. It's so utilitarian now."

"IKEA."

"Exactly," Wendy said. We roamed the store admiring the craftsmanship. Some of the things were simply old and probably ugly when they were built. I had to admit that I did like when the maker put in the extra effort, carving designs into the wood. Unlike today's furniture, I could tell it was a labor of pride, not profit. We exited the store pleased with what we saw.

"Do you buy a lot of antiques?" I asked.

"No, not really," Wendy replied. "We're on the road as much as we're at home. Maybe someday I'll start a collection."

We ambled through a few more stores. Held our noses at a candle store and made faces at an art store. The paintings were of average quality but had astronomical prices. They did have a nice picture of a little girl sitting on the edge of a lake. The artist gave her an aura that looked like it was generating wind away from her. The flower and trees all had a subtle bend like they were opposed magnetically from the girl. I found it almost called to me. At $1,500, I wasn't going to answer in this lifetime.

Wendy insisted that she buy me a cup of coffee at Carmen's Coffee. It was a small shop with only five tables. I ordered a cup of candy bar, a double chocolate chip frappuccino. Wendy went for caffeine. I was never a strong fan of coffee, but chocolate held a place of honor on my tongue.

"Did you always know what you wanted?" I asked. It was a question that I couldn't ask Mom or Dad. Mom always seemed to know, and Dad just flowed through life like it was a gift. Grandma would have given me some weird answer I would have only half understood. Wendy had no ties to me and could tell me the truth.

"Oh, God no," Wendy replied, "when I was your age, I was confused as shit." She sipped her coffee, oblivious to her swearing. I wanted the freedom she seemed to extrude.

"I don't even have choices," I admitted, "I have no idea what I want. I have decisions coming up and 'I don't know' is the only answer I have." I felt the oppressive weight of the future shift a little as I shared my apprehension. It wasn't any lighter. Maybe, talking about it made me stronger.

"Good," Wendy said, smiling. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one."

"It's scary," I admitted.

"Don't worry so much," Wendy said. "Make whatever choice seems best at the time. Something will come along and steer you on your path. I can see it in you."

"I'm not as happy as I think I should be," I continued. "I look around at people like you and everyone is content. I feel like I'm left out of it all." Wendy put down her cup. I could almost see the pity in her eyes. I wanted desperately to take back what I just said. I didn't want to ruin my time with her.

"I was where you were," Wendy said. My whole body sighed at her words. She understood. "I have no less apprehension or misfortune than you do. What I do have is someone to share it with." She looked away for a moment, then looked back. "I can only tell you that problems get less. Less important, less worrisome, and less insurmountable. You find someone to share it with, and the less is lessened even more." She chuckled and lifted her cup back up. "That didn't make any sense, did it?"

"All the sense in the world," I said. I knew exactly what she was saying. It was a relief to know I wasn't alone in my fear of the future. It was also nice to know that the worry gets less worrisome.

"Sometimes, I envy your youth," Wendy said. "Other times, I relish my wisdom. Age makes the body weaker, but the mind stronger." She sighed. "Then again, to have my ass look like yours again: I would trade some wisdom for that." We shared a good laugh. I needed it, and she enjoyed it. At that moment, I would have traded my ass for some wisdom.

Chapter 10 - Teegan

We returned to a very crowded Tangerine. It pleased Wendy to see the number of people who paid to see the concert. We had to wait in line at the front door to get in. I guess we could have gone right to the front, but it seemed rude to cut. The line wasn't that long, and it gave us time to people watch.

"They must like the Smooth Gliders," I said to Wendy.

"We won't fill a colosseum, but we'll never starve," Wendy replied. "We're in talks with PBS. That will send album sales through the roof if it pans out."

"I thought that's old people music," I said without thinking.

"Usually," Wendy said with a smile, "it's great music played by old musicians. Young people don't donate to PBS."

"Sorry," I said, "I didn't mean..."

"No worries," Wendy interrupted, "you have an ass, I have wisdom." She made me laugh. For some reason, I felt the need to link my hands behind my back and cover my butt. I was happy she laughed with me.

"Hello, Matt," I said when we finally made it inside. I flashed my wristband, and he smiled at me, glad that I remembered his name.

"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked. I let it go since I would probably never see him again.

"Practicing," I said, "or waiting for me." He waved us in with a kind nod. I felt special being recognized by the bouncer. It's my first club, and the bouncer knew me. I'm in the in-crowd.

We moved through the tables, some with no seats, and made our way to the front. Wendy grabbed my hand and drove point. I followed with a large smile on my face. I could feel the excitement building. From the bits of conversation I could pick up, there were people here who followed the band around the country. I had never heard of the Smooth Gliders before, but they obviously had some groupies.

Our table was waiting for us, complete with a reserved sign. I knew I had a ticket, but didn't realize it was front row.

"We have the best seats in every dive," Wendy shouted above the din. I smiled as she dragged me to the table. 'We' meant the significant others of the performers. It wasn't a date, but I was Caleb's guest. Right then, I was a special guest, and I couldn't be more impressed.

Caleb met us at the table. He was so pleased when he saw us I thought his smile would break his face. He must have spent his time explaining why the best table in the house was saved with only one person sitting at it. He said something to me, and I nodded, having no idea what it was over the din. I followed his hand signals and sat next to him.

"I thought you'd be backstage," I said, leaning into his ear.

"Tom will call me up at intermission," Caleb said, his breath tickling my ear. Unless we wanted to shout, talking directly into ears was the only way to communicate. There were simply too many people in the club. "I got a pitcher of raspberry lemonade," he continued, pointing at the pink colored juice in the center of the table. "Is that okay?"

I leaned into his ear and voiced my approval. A shiver ran down Caleb's body that made me smile. I guessed my breath tickled him as well. Caleb began pouring me a glass while I leaned over to Wendy and asked her if she wanted some. I half understood the lack-of-vodka decline. I smiled, knowing enough not to pour her a glass.

Caleb handed me a glass. I took a sip and thanked him by moving lips to form the words. He smiled, so I knew he understood. I thought back to the discussion I had with Wendy and decided it was a good time to find out things. It wasn't like we could have an argument with all the noise.

"Do you think this is a date?" I asked into Caleb's ear. His head moved away quickly, and he looked into my eyes. I saw a mixture of fear and wonder. Maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe I should have asked after he played. Confidence came over him, and he leaned to my ear.

"No, but I want it to be," Caleb said clearly. Wendy was mostly right. A million thoughts ran through my mind. I could end it now, crush him before he went on stage. That seemed a non-starter. I didn't want to crush him. I didn't want him to think I was for or against the idea. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what I wanted or why I asked. I blinked my eyes and tried to make the best decision I could at the given time. I kissed his cheek.

Caleb beamed a smile that encompassed his entire face. Thankfully, he didn't kiss me back, which would have confused me even more. I had no idea why I kissed him. He paid me a compliment in his own way, and I returned one. It was better than any words I could put together. It only took a second, and Wendy was right, he certainly hadn't hit any ugly trees. In fact, he looked pretty handsome with that smile meant for me.

"Now you've done it," Wendy said into my other ear. I could see the laughter in her eyes. I was about to comment when the MC came out to announce the band. We all turned, and I avoided things I really couldn't explain. The band would give me time to think.

I was enthralled with the energy that exploded when the band came out. They obviously had a strong following, and now I was part of it. I couldn't help standing and screaming with everyone else as they took the stage. The echo of the crowd drowned out every other sound and helped pump the excitement. Wendy steadied me when my jumping got out of hand. Caleb smiled and moved next to me. I smiled and nodded at whatever he said into my ear. It was easier than trying to get him to repeat it.

Everything began to simmer down when Tom lifted the strap of his sax over his head and approached a microphone mounted in front of the band. The size of his smile showed how much he appreciated the applause. It looked like he'd have trouble forming words.

"Thank you!" Tom shouted, then repeated it with his hands up to get everyone to quiet down. "We really appreciate being back in Bangor!" That caused another round of screaming applause. I looked around and figured there was only room for a few hundred people, but it sounded like thousands. He waited for the crowd to quiet again.

"Wendy," Tom said loudly, "I love you." The crowd went nuts again, and I looked at Wendy who was blowing a kiss to the stage. Tom lifted the sax to his lips, raised his hand. The crowd quieted quickly. The hand dropped, the drums and bass guitar kicked in, and Tom followed with a deep sax that sounded more like lead vocals than an instrument.

"That's my song," Wendy said happily in my ear.

"What's it called?" I asked.

"Wendy, I Love You," Wendy replied. I looked at her and could see that she loved him just as much. Her eyes were glued to the stage as Tom emptied his heart into the sax. It was a fusion of blues and rock n roll. When the lead guitar joined, something beautiful happened. I could feel the music flowing through me, almost like the bond, but infinitely less serious. There was laughter and fun in the arrangement, the drums accenting and laying out the road that others followed. There was no way I could sit back down, not with my foot moving of its own accord.

Soon the small dance floor filled with gyrating bodies. Caleb grabbed my hand and found a little opening next to our table. We danced, if you could call it that. I was doing more laughing, and trying to keep up with his weak attempts at synchronizing his hips with the music. I could see his expression change at my response. There was no way I was going to let his ego ruin the energy the band produced. I moved closer and put my hands on his hips. I smiled as I guided his movements into something a little more in beat. He hesitantly placed his hands on my waist, and we moved together. This time, when I smiled, he knew it for the happiness it was. He stopped thinking and started dancing.

Once we started moving smoothly, I released Caleb's hips and he my waist. His smile mirrored mine as we let loose in a dance of our own design. Everyone was bumping into everyone else, but our eyes were on each other as the song moved our bodies. I could no longer deny that I enjoyed being with Caleb. I tried to hide it from myself; some mental security barrier had held me back. I enjoyed his eyes on mine. The relationship probably wouldn't work, but right then, with the music smoothing the road, I was having fun. It felt like a date.

The next few songs were as original as the first. Sometimes the guitar would take the lead, other times the sax. The instrumentation was unique and pleasing, my mind wanting more every time a song ended. We had to sit down, so we didn't start sweating too much and to give others some room on the floor.

"I've never heard anything like it," I said into Wendy's ear.

"They do have a sweet sound," Wendy fired back. Caleb refilled my glass, and I mouthed him a thank you. Time passed quickly as the band transitioned between songs. They looked like they were having as much fun as the spectators, playing errant cords between songs, and laughing about things we could only guess at. After a fairly long set, Tom returned to the microphone.

"The band is going to take a break to wet their whistles and take care of some bladder concerns," Tom said. The crowd laughed at the weak humor. "I will remain for a quick duet." He waved Caleb onto the stage. "I was working on a tune I couldn't quite get right. Something was missing. Caleb McGuire, who's joining me on stage, intuitively filled in the blanks. I promised him some limelight so that we could show you all something different." There was some weak applause as Caleb mounted the stage.

Caleb moved behind the drums and retrieved his violin. There was no hesitancy in his movements. His confidence was unwavering, and he looked like he was having fun if his smile was any indication. He spent some time tuning his violin, playing some quiet notes and twisting the pegs until he was happy.

"Are you about ready?" Tom said with an exaggerated sigh. Caleb smiled and answered with his bow, a dying-cat like tone directed at Tom. The crowd loved the theatrics. "Okay," Tom said, holding his hands over his ears. "This is a work in progress folks and not something you're used to. I hope you enjoy it."

Tom started with a mellow tone that drifted like the wind, barely shifting his notes. I heard something I recognized in it, but I couldn't grasp at the memory. I was leaning forward, taxing my brain when the violin entered. This wasn't the wild ride of the songs before. It was a smooth melodic tune that entwined the layers of the two instruments perfectly. The entire crowd went silent with a palpable awe as the song relaxed and swayed. I knew I had heard it somewhere, more so as the violin echoed the sax then took roads of its own.

The more they played, the more I felt I knew the music intimately. Tom claimed it was original, but I had felt it before. When Caleb went into a particularly long drawn out note, it hit me. I closed my eyes as they began to well up. The music was me. It was the audio version of my bond, close to my Dad's, but distinctly mine. My breathing quickened as I tried to understand how it was coming from the instruments. It was my private music, something I had thought I never shared.

Some barriers collapsed in my confusion. Dad, Mom, and Zane lent me strength, all of them not understanding, but sensing my need. I took a deep breath as the song intimately exposed all that I was to the world. I felt naked as if they were reading my diary out loud.

"Are you alright?" Wendy whispered in my ear. I shook my head, and she scooted her chair closer. Dad was flooding me with love and concern, the only thing that allowed me to not completely break down. The music flowed into me, syncing with and igniting my bond. I had never known it to be so strong. More internal walls were dropping as I felt Wendy's arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. Mental walls I didn't even know I had erected shattered. Wendy grabbed my hand in concern. Without thinking, I joined her music to mine.

A rush of Wendy's breath flew past my ear. Her comforting movements ceased as she felt everything I was, trade with everything of her. Confusion left as the bond strengthened. The music was beautiful, not harmful. The future, so frightening before, was merely a challenge that could be easily conquered. I opened my eyes and looked toward the stage. I could feel Wendy's love for Tom beaming through me. Her apprehensions faded with mine as I watched Caleb confidently sing my song on his violin. I could feel the crowd's minds enjoying the music. I wiped my wet eyes. The whole world was so beautiful.

The music ended, and Wendy released my hand. Reality rushed back, and I turned to her. Her eyes were wide, and her smile threatened to tear her skin. I hadn't bonded with anyone new in years. I didn't know it could be so strong. There were subconscious barricades I hadn't understood before, that I could now control. They had seemed a solid part of me before, a demarcation that couldn't be crossed. They were now nothing more than doors I could open and close at will.