I wrapped my arms around his waist and placed my head against his chest.“How are you here?Isn’t your dad fuming?”
“I sort of left.By the way, I like the new hair,” Darren said, not letting me pull away from him this time.
“Thanks.You left and didn’t ask him?”I questioned.
“I didn’t ask him if I could come.I told him I was coming here to see you and to help your family, and he could do nothing to stop me.He has kept me there too long and needs to realize that if he is going to treat me like an adult, I can make my own decisions.”
“Wow.I am proud of you for standing up for yourself.I know how hard it can be for you.Are you scared he will punish you when you get back?”
“If he punishes me, he will lose a babysitter.He knows he doesn’t have power over me anymore.It’s not like I am doing anything bad.Last time I checked, love is the best reason to do something, anyway.”
“About that ...I was wondering if the offer still stands...”
“Yes, Copper!”
“I didn’t even finish what I was going to say.How do you know?”
“You were going to say you want to be my girlfriend.”
We would still need to figure out how a distance relationship would work or how often we would get to see each other, but Darren was right for me.He was more than I could ask for.In his arms, I was safe.I wasn’t worried he would leave me anymore because his actions had proven otherwise.He went against his dad and didn’t let life get in the way.I was still scared to commit, but it was easier when he wasn’t just a boy who wanted a summer fling.He wanted something more profound than the creek’s surface.He wanted someone who would dive into the freezing water without hesitation, and I was honored to jump in for him, like he did for me.
Fifty or so men in black security shirts showed up and pulled out long metal pieces from their trucks.They worked alongside each other like ants, obeying their queen to build the stage.By noon, the plain field became a vast arena for people who loved music.A long banner that stated, “In memory of James Hartley” was hung at the top of the stage.
Another group of men added microphones, drums, a keyboard, and amp hookups to the platform.I helped hang up concert flyers around town and directed crew members where to go.Everything was falling into place.Some of my Grocery Outlet co-workers volunteered to transform the field into a breathtaking event, and they did by placing decorations throughout the area.
The Peach Pot set up a large tent to sell peach ice cream and raise funds in addition to a few food trucks.Ronny made a booth to sell new Jesse Young and The Matches Pitiful Peaches shirts.The slick design was bound to sell out quickly.The ROCK 105.1’s radio host set up camp in their company van across the street to narrate the event.The station’s van was wrapped in a tie-dye design with big block letters of their station on the side.I couldn’t believe that James would be talked about on the radio.I wanted more than anything to tell him.James’s benefit concert was the biggest event of the summer.It was endearing to see everyone pulling together to put it on.
People flowed through the gates toward the stage.Excited energy buzzed through the air as more bodies piled beside each other, coming together for a common interest.James would have been obsessed with the benefit.He would have said that it proved how music had healing properties that could change someone’s life.I hoped he was somewhere in the clouds, looking down on us and singing along.He wasn’t a saint, but he was a good man.Deep down I knew he was in a better place.
Backstage, Bret Beats prepared to be the first act.Bret Beats turned out to be an old high school band.They did not become famous, tour, or even record any albums.They made the sheet music for “Pitiful Peaches” and went separate ways when they received their high school diplomas in Moose Creek.One member became an accountant, one passed away, and another was a school bus driver.The members of Bret Beats were pleased their work was used and perplexed about how it came to be.
Ronny reached out to the surviving members and asked for the rights to the song.They agreed to sign the copyright and perform as an opener to Jesse Young and The Matches if they got a small profit cut.The older men were delicate yet knew how to work a crowd.Their stage presence allowed for a simple and sweet start to the benefit.They played classic song covers from Elvis to Johnny Cash.Bret Beats was the sort of band you would hire for a birthday party or county fair.Audience members took their partner’s hands and danced around the stage.Other peers took the extra time before the main act to buy goodies from the various vendors.
The diverse crowd included families, truckers James knew, rock n’ roll fans, and locals who wanted to support the cause.One man stood out to me.He wore office clothes in the heat and carried a notepad with a pencil tucked behind his ear.The abnormal man made eye contact with me like he was trying to figure out who I was.He gradually walked toward me and introduced himself as Harold Hayes, a writer from Zipper Magazine.I shook his hand as he said, “A little birdy wrote to me.Does that bird happen to be standing in front of me?I expected you to be a boy, but obviously, you aren’t.”
“Maybe,” I replied, oblivious to what he wanted.
“Your letter was interesting.If you have time to talk, I would love to see some of your other writing,” Harold said as he fixed a crease in his slacks.
Darren, who was uneasy with his presence at first, gave me a look of approval.I thought of my binder full of random writing pieces that, although I believed in them, I only pictured them getting published as a dream.
“I think I could round up a couple of pieces of writing samples to share with you if you would like to exchange contact information,” I said as formally as possible.If I were going to make it into the publishing world, I needed to sound polished, especially as a young girl.
“Sounds like a plan to me, little bird.I would like to hear your tweets about this concert as well.”I wrote my phone number and address on Harold’s pad and shook his hand firmly.
Darren and I went backstage to talk to the band before they switched out.
“Congratulations, Copper.You just made your first connection in the music publishing space.”
He was right.I was moving up in the world.A connection could mean more chances of publishing my writing.It could mean that I could do what James wanted for me.James had spent every moment he could preparing me for a world without him, and now that he was gone, I could power through, but I still craved his guidance.
“Congratulations to you.You are about to perform at your first real concert,” I praised Darren back.We found Jesse Young and The Matches huddled together on the right side of the stage behind a long red curtain.“Hey, I can’t believe how many people are here.You guys outdid yourselves,” I said, thanking the band.
“Ah, it’s nothing compared to some of the shows we have played.Those Bret Beats are some funny old geezers.We are pumped to get out there and perform.How are you feeling, Darry?Are you ready to play in front of that crowd,” Jesse snarked.
Darren nodded as he twitched his fingers.“Yeah.”
“You will do great.You are going to play backup for me.I will be right by your side,” Keith said, consoling Darren’s nerves.
