“One, did you read a good book? Two, did you make a new friend? And three, did you have a grand adventure?”
Leah remembered. And she promised she would.
Chapter Three
Of course the Ohio gig was pure fire.
Like angry sex and makeup sex, all rolled into one. The heat and pulse of the crowd fueling the band to peak performance, even though they were barely hanging by a thread. Barely speaking to one another, except for polite logistics.
They were keeping the peace for now…but it was keeping Avi awake.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1…
He fumbled with the light switch by his ear. Years ago, his Aunt Miri had taught him a calming countdown when sleep eluded him.
“Start with five things you can see, Velvel,” she’d say. Always with that nickname for him — little wolf in Yiddish.
Lamp. Curtain. Blanket.He looked around for two more things he could identify by sight.Air Vent. Phone.
Four things you can touch.
Avi stretched his six-foot frame until his toes came in contact with the carpeted wall of his bunk. Touched the ring on the chain at his throat. Rested his palm on his heart, which was slowing its rapid pace. And grabbed his phone.
His iPhone screen read 4:33am. And there was a new text waiting.
Sylvie
I think we need to talk when you get to NY.
He listened for the usual tour bus sounds. The road humming under its wheels, the distant laughter from the back lounge TV someone had left on. Vic snoring somewhere.That’s three.
Avi’s nostrils flared. One normally wouldn’t seek out scents on a tour bus full of men at any given time, but he was nothing if not ritualistic. Above the baseline funk of farts and feet, he could smell coffee and the woodsy tang of his own deodorant.Two.
They had left the venue less than three hours ago. He’d climbed into his bunk, freshly showered from backstage and hoping to wake up well-rested in Buffalo.
Until Sylvie had shown up in his texts.
One thing you can taste.
He bit a hangnail until there was blood.
The bus swayed gently, and Avi rolled onto his side, staring at the lone photo tacked to his bunk wall: his crew, younger and grinning, with the Giza pyramids in the distance.
Jay, in dorky neon shades, holding Nora piggyback. She grinned over his shoulder, middle finger to the camera. Jonah mimed “moving” a pyramid while Talia and Libby conga-lined behind him for a push. Avi remembered singing that old Bangles tune “Walk Like an Egyptian” all day; he and Sylvie strutting in a way that probably didn’t age well.
And there was Eli. Holding Nora’s threadbare sock monkey Jocko aloft, as if offering a sacrifice to the sun god Ra.
Avi tried to remember the last time all eight of the Year Course friends were in the same place at the same time to pose for a photo together. Too long ago.
There was always the chance during Hanukkah, when Jay threw the mother of all parties aboard the USS Matzo Baller. Nora’s “three more sleeps” text from earlier felt ironic, given Avi’s chronic insomnia.
The tour bus canted heavily to one side, slowing as the hiss of the air brakes signaled its stop.
Sighing, Avi sat up. He slipped into the Adidas slides he kept handy for roaming out of bunk alley, zipped his hoodie, and slid quietly into the aisle. To his left and his right, his band of brothers slept soundly. Enviously.
Tea will help.Joe, their driver, stocked a killer herbal section.Valerian Organic Nighty Nightwasn’t very rock and roll, but some secrets stayed on the bus.
As he stealthily made his way up the aisle toward the kitchen, a hand shot out of the last bottom bunk on the left, Zombie-from-the-grave style.
