My Butterfly

Chapter Twenty-One The Card

Weekly gigs kind of became a usual occurrence. I wasn’t quite sure even how it had all unfolded exactly. One day, I woke up, and it just was. I was a firefighter most days, and I played in a band on the others. It made me laugh to think about it because it all seemed as if it were a dream — not like a career dream but like a real dream, as if I were actually sleeping while we were playing on some small stage in some other part of town. I was always waiting for a big, pink elephant to fly across the room or for a squirrel in the crowd to ask me why I was naked on stage or something. It felt like that kind of dream. I enjoyed it though. I seldom admitted it, even to myself. But when I was sitting alone on my little bed in the station, I thought about it. And I thought about if maybe sometime we got a gig in Columbia that I might see Julia. I always pictured her in the front row, with a happy smile on her face. I thought about that sometimes.

I picked up a cord leading to the stage and started wrapping it around my arm. I hardly got it wrapped around my elbow twice when a voice stopped me.

“Hi, Jesse Sovine,” a man said, extending his hand.

I glanced at the man’s outstretched arm and followed it up to his face.

“Will Stephens,” I said, eventually meeting his handshake.

“You’ve got a great voice,” the man said.

I smiled an awkward smile and went back to wrapping the cord around my arm.

“Thanks,” I said.

“I’ve seen these guys play a couple of times, but I’ve never seen you before,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s kind of a side thing,” I said.

“So, you’re a firefighter?” he asked.

I glanced back up at him, and then my gaze fell onto the cord again.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Well, have you ever thought about a career in music?” he asked.

I stopped and looked at him sideways.

“A career in music? Us?” I asked.

He nodded his head and smiled.

“Your band. Yourself,” the man said.

I raised one eyebrow.

“Did a little blonde put you up to this?” I asked.

The man’s smile faded, and his face twisted into a puzzled look.

“I’m kidding,” I said, chuckling. “No, really, it’s just a side thing.”

He seemed to pause before he continued.

“Okay,” he said. “Well, talk to your band. I’d love a chance to represent you guys.”

“Represent?” I repeated.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out a clean, white business card from the inside pocket of his tailored jacket.

“If you change your mind, my number’s on the card,” he said, handing it to me.

I took the card.

“It’s nice to meet you, Will Stephens,” he said, extending his hand to me again. “I hope you change your mind.”

I shook his hand again, and then I watched him disappear back into the crowd.

It was dark all around me, except for the neon light that flashed in my direction every once in a while. My eyes strained to see the bold lettering on the small business card as they searched each word:

I stared at the card for a second, then stuffed it into my pocket and continued again wrapping the electric cord around my arm.

“A career in music,” I mumbled under my breath, while chuckling to myself.

I made my way into Matt’s garage Monday evening. The guys were already there.

“Water, Will?” I heard Matt ask.

I turned toward him and held out my hands.

He tossed the bottle across the room. I caught it, opened it up and took a swig. Then, I set it onto the concrete floor and started to play with the strings on my guitar.

“Oh, guys, by the way, this guy gave me this the other night,” I said, pulling the business card from my jeans pocket and tossing it onto Matt’s keys.

“What is it?” Chris asked, snatching up the card.

His eyes scanned the words and then turned up.

“This is an agent,” he eventually said.

His words were straight and to the point.

“What?” Matt asked, looking up.

“Where did you get this?” Chris asked me.

“The guy,” I said, pointing to the card. “His name is on it.”

“Dude, this is Premiere Entertainment,” he exclaimed. “They’re a big deal.”

“What did you tell him?” Matt asked me.

“I didn’t tell him anything, really,” I said. “I just took the card.”

“Guys, do you realize what this could mean?” Chris asked. “We could be famous.”

“Let me see it,” Daniel said, yanking the card out of Chris’s hand.

Daniel’s eyes followed over the words on the card.

“We’ve got to call him,” Chris said, “and tell him we’re interested.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Daniel said. “We’ve got to think about this first. I’ve got a kid and a family. I can’t just run off with the band.”

“Yeah, Chris, I agree,” Matt said. “A lot of people have agents, but that doesn’t mean they get anywhere. This isn’t a ticket to fame and fortune, and we can’t act like it is.”

“But we can just see what he says,” Chris said.

“I don’t know,” Daniel said. “I mean, playing on the weekends is fun, but…”

He shook his head.

“I need a real job,” he continued. “One that pays the bills.”

“Who said anything about quitting our jobs?” Chris asked. “We can just see where it leads.”

“I don’t know,” Daniel said, still shaking his head.

“What about you, Will?” Chris asked. “He talked to you. What do you think?”

Suddenly, all eyes in the garage were on me.

I shook my head and laughed.

“I’m a firefighter,” I said. “I don’t know anything about the music business, and I’m not sure, beyond what we do Friday and Saturday nights, that I want to.”

Chris tossed his head back and groaned.

“Look, guys, we don’t have to give him an answer right now,’’ Matt said, taking the card from Daniel’s hand. “Here, Will, he gave you the card; you hold onto it. In the meantime, we can all think about it. Give it some time. Who’s to say it’ll even amount to anything. Let’s think about if we even want to bother with it. Okay?”

Our eyes were on Matt. Then, they slowly strayed to Chris.

“Okay, okay,” Chris said. “I’ll think about it. You know what my answer is, but I’ll think about it.”

I chuckled and took the business card from Matt.

“Chris, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had some secret dream of becoming a rock star,” I said to him.

He held a sarcastic glare for a good, few seconds before he finally threw his head back again, and this time, laughed.

“Yeah, I might have thrown some leather pants on and a suede jacket and slung a guitar across my skinny, little chest for career day in the sixth grade,” Chris said, slowly bobbing his head. “That might have been me. But let me tell ya, the girls loved it. The teachers — not so much. But the girls, they loved it. I knew before that day that I was destined to be famous, but that day in sixth grade, that day, I knew I wanted to be.”

“For the girls?” I asked.

“Well, that day, it was just for Hailey Young,” he said, his voice growing serious again. “But she moved away after junior high, and I never saw her again. Now, I guess…”

He paused for a second and stared off into space. Matt, Daniel and I just looked at each other, waiting for him to finish.

“Now, I guess,” Chris started again, “I guess, it’s still Hailey Young.”

Chris’s eyes were glazed over now as he continued to stare off, seemingly, into a different world or a different time. I glanced over at Daniel in the back corner of the garage. He was rubbing his eyes now, out of what looked as if it were boredom.

“Are we done?” Daniel chimed in. “MY Hailey Young has dinner for me at home, and I’m starving.”

“Yeah, we’re done,” Matt said.

Daniel got up first and shuffled to the door, as a loud ring suddenly came from inside the house, and Matt scurried up to retrieve his phone.

I looked back at Chris. We were the only two left in the garage. His head was down now, and he looked as though he was thinking. I walked over to him and patted him on the shoulder.

“We’re all chasin’ after our own Hailey Youngs,” I said to him. “Hang in there, buddy.”

I watched him nod his head, and then I slowly made my way to the door.

“You got one, Will?” I heard him ask.

I turned back around and caught his sad eyes. Then, I slowly nodded my head.

“Yes,” I said, softly.

I watched him try to smile. It was a perceptive smile, as if he had already known my answer. I forced the corners of my lips up slightly. Then, I turned again and made my way out of the small garage.