按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
〃And we can get stoned backstage；〃 said Calvin； ing in。 Zach wondered if he had been listening at the door。 Calvin was wearing a pair of black cotton leggings and a skimpy rag that might once have been a T…shirt： nearly the same outfit Zach had on； but tighter and rattier。 Zach saw that one of his nipples was pierced with a silver ring。 Calvin beamed at Zach and offered him a slender black object。 An eyeliner pencil。
〃Want some？〃
Slinking about the stage； his eyes smeared with wanton kohl 。 。 。 〃May I？〃
Calvin pressed the pencil into Zach's hand and turned away； flexing his fingers。 He seemed to have toned his act down a little。 In fact the whole atmosphere backstage had suddenly bee brisk； excited but efficient； these guys were ready to have fun； but they also had a job to do。 Terry and R。J。 were standing； stretching。 Zach felt the first flicker of nervousness like a wing brushing the inside of his stomach。 He peered into the tiny lightless mirror Kinsey had thoughtfully provided and began outlining his eyes in black。
Trevor watched him strangely。 〃What are you doing？〃
〃Putting on makeup。〃 Zach finished； smudged the corners a bit； then looked up at Trevor。 〃Do you like it？〃
〃I think I better go back into the club。〃
〃Okay。 Why？〃
Trevor leaned in close。 〃Because if I stay here；〃 he whispered in Zach's ear； 〃I'm going to fuck you right in front of the band。〃
Great： now he was going on stage with a boner。 〃Wait till after the show；〃 he whispered back。 〃I'll ruin you for life。〃
〃Promise？〃
〃Mmmmm。〃 Trevor's lips covered his； Trevor's arms slid around him and hugged him tight。 Then Trevor looked back at the other musicians。 〃I hope you have a good show；〃 he said。 They all realized they had been staring； smiled a little too widely and offered a ragged chorus of thanks。
The backstage door swung shut and Trevor was gone into the crowd。 Terry glanced at the others。 〃Ready？〃
A round of nods。 A moment of silence。 Then Terry spoke three more of rock and roll's talismanic words：
〃Let's do it。〃
Trevor was standing at the very center of the dance floor when Gumbo hit the stage。 He felt the crowd pushing him forward； let himself surge closer to Zach。
Zach was already smiling at the audience as if he wanted to eat it alive。 Calvin and R。J。 picked up their guitars； slung the brightly colored hippie…weave straps over their shoulders。 Terry sat down； leaned forward； and spoke hoarsely into the small mike mounted on his drum set。
〃Howdy！ We're Gumbo！〃 A spatter of whistles and applause。 〃Thanks。 You'll notice that tonight we're four instead of three。 Say hello to DARIO； our special guest vocalist appearing in a limited engagement of one 。 。 。 night 。 。 。 only！〃 A drumstick kissed the edge of a cymbal。 〃DARIO！ A genu…wine Cajun maniac straight from New OrLEEENS！〃
Over the forest of waving； fluttering hands thrust up by the crowd； Trevor distinctly saw Zach mouth the word Shit。 But he recovered fast and ripped the microphone off its stand as Terry gave the three…beat intro to the first song。 Calvin unleashed a fast…and…dirty flood of guitar noise； and R。J。 backed him with a bass line that made Trevor think of wheels blasting down an open highway。 Zach stood with the mike clutched to his chest； arched his back and speared the audience with his glittering eyes。
Trevor thought Zach was looking straight at him as he began to sing。
In fact； Zach had left his glasses in the dressing room and couldn't see much beyond the first four rows of people。 But he could feel Trevor in the crowd； could feel a long invisible strand of electricity flowing between them； tapping into the web that connected Zach with Terry； R。J。； and Calvin； sending tendrils through the audience and infecting them as well。 It was a silver…blue energy； as galvanizing as a slug of moonshine； as effervescent as a champagne chaser。
He opened his mouth and felt the energy e blazing up his spine as he let the words fly。 He barely knew what he was singing； his photographic memory gave him back the lyrics and his reptile brain translated them into pure emotion without ever processing their meaning。 He twisted the syllables； stretched the long sounds； pushed his voice way down deep to match the bass； then sang with the guitar； high and hoarse and clear。
The crowd pushed right up to the stage。 A few kids up front were already dancing。 Zach let their movements tug at him； flow over him。 Soon he was dancing harder than any of them； remembering to breathe； keeping his voice strong； letting the music control him。
The young upturned faces were sweaty； eyes half…closed； lips parted as if in ecstasy。 This was like making love to an enormous roomful of people all at once； like taking control of all their pleasure centers and squeezing hard。 It was his best fantasy gone one better。 No one was jealous。 Everyone was getting off； and getting him off。 And somewhere right in the middle of it was his one true love。
〃I gotta bad reaaaaction；〃 he moaned； lips brushing the mike； letting his voice crack a little； thinking of Billie Holiday。 〃Gotta bad reaction to yoooou 。 。 。 gotta suck your poison every night； gotta swallow too 。 。 。〃 He was improvising on the lyrics now as the song ended。 Calvin caught his eye and gave him a very dark smile。
The next number on the set list read simply 〃FUNKY BLUESJAM。〃 Terry had told him to vamp around； make up his own lyrics if he wanted。 His shirt was already soaked。 He peeled it off as the band eased into a slow； sexy groove。 The crowd whistled and hooted。 Zach closed his eyes and tilted his head back and just stood swaying at center stage for a long moment； leggings riding low on his hips； lights playing over the sweat on his face and chest and rib cage。 Me felt them looking at him and he let them look。
Slowly he brought the mike up and started singing again； letting his voice skitter and scat over the music； only gradually beginning to form whole words and lines。 〃Where the bars never close 。 。 。 And the neon screams 。 。 。 And the smell of whiskey gets in your dreams 。 。 。〃
A boy was dancing front and center； head thrown back in abandon； red…gold hair shaved close on the sides and spiked with sweat； pale skin flushed。 His eyes met Zach's and held them； almost defiant。 Zach knew that look； had seen it plenty of times in the Quarter。 It said； I am as beautiful as you； and I know it。 The boy wore a thin white T…shirt and loose； low…slung faded jeans。 The edge of the shirt pulled up as he danced； revealing a maddening stretch of flat hairless belly； a heartbreaking curve of hipbone。
〃Where the gutters run red by the break of dawn 。 。 。 And the boys get paler as the night wears on 。 。 。〃
Suddenly he saw Trevor in the crowd； not dancing； just standing still in the sea of bodies； letting himself be jostled； gazing up at Zach。 His face was intent； but calm； he was taking all this in now to be remembered and maybe drawn later。 Zach lost the thread of his lyrics； wailed and sobbed wordlessly for a while。 He felt like a torch singer in some smoky little dive in 1929； high on Prohibition liquor and the reefers they were rolling backstage。
He gave Trevor his most smoldering smile； put the mike back on the stand and ran his hands over his face； through his hair。 Trevor smiled back a little uneasily； as if afraid people would notice where Zach was looking。 But his gaze never wavered。 He had to take everything in。 The artist as eyeball； thought Zach： lidless； as raw to the touch as an exposed nerve； but seeing and processing all。
The next couple of songs were Gumbo standards with a country…Cajun flavor。 Zach whined his way through them thinking of Hank and Patsy and Clifton Chenier； wishing he had a bottle of bourbon； a pair of black steel…toed cowboy boots； and a bushel of tabasco peppers。 Terry whaled his skins without mercy； and R。J。 moved his feet for the first time that evening。 Zach could tell this was the stuff they really loved。 They played the blues fine； but they were country boys。
Next came another jam； R。J。 and Calvin getting into a riff that was like something out of an old spy movie； sinister and slinky； octopussy； Terry laughing behind the drums； striking up a strip…club beat。 Zach hung on the microphone； tilted his face to the lights and closed his eyes。 The world was red and gold； sweat and smoke； pain and joyThe first set was over too soon。 Zach stared over at the crowd； unwilling to turn them loose even for twenty minutes。 Trevor caught his eye and pointed toward the bar。 Zach held up his open hand…Be there in five…and reluctantly left the stage。
Entering the backstage room was like walking into a sauna。 The other three musicians were as sweaty as Zach； and as buzzed。 The little cubicle was saturated with their energy。 The smell was like an electrical storm in a locker room。
Terry slung an arm around him。 〃Good show。 Man； you really know how to work a crowd。〃
〃It feels great。〃
〃You're a natural；〃 R。J。 told him。 〃Terry could sing 'Bad Reaction' for the rest of his life and never get 'em riled up like that。〃
〃Aw； fuck you；〃 said Terry。 〃I'm just a drummer working overtime。 Zach's a singer。〃
Basking in the praise； Zach started to grab a Natty Boho； then realized he had finished his first one onstage and his bladder was full。 〃Is there anywhere I can take a piss back here or do I have to fight my way to the rest room？〃
〃Yeah； if you go way back behind the stage； there's a little bitty John in the far corner。 Nobody's supposed to know about it because it doesn't have a sink； but you can piss there。〃
Zach took off in the direction Terry had pointed him。 A narrow L…shaped hall hooked away into the bowels of the backstage area； virtually lightless。 Zach trailed his hand along the wall to keep his bearings。 The cinder blocks felt cool and moist beneath his fingers； as if he were descending into an underground cave。 Eventually he came to an open door； felt around until he found a light switch； and beheld the dankest； saddest little water closet he had ever laid eyes on。 It was clean； and that almost made it worse： a bathroom this desolate needed roaches and mildew to liven it up。 He hated to imagine Kinsey back here scrubbing the toilet。
Zach peeled his leggings down。 The stream of pee sounded very loud going into the rusty water； and he realized his ears were ringing。 As he readjusted himself； a knock sounded at the door。 I bet I know who that is； Zach thought。
〃Yeah？〃
〃It's Calvin。〃
Bing！ You win the trip to Acapulco and the set of steak knives too。 He opened the door a crack and saw a sparkling eye； a shock of bleached hair； half of a grinning mouth。
〃Just wanted to see if you were done。 I gotta go too。〃
Zach let Calvin in and turned to leave。 Calvin stepped right up to the toilet； tugged his pants down； and let fly。 Huh； Zach thought； so he really did have to piss。
But as Zach was halfway out the door； Calvin said； 〃Hey； Dario？〃
〃Yeah？〃
〃That was a fuckin' brilliant set。 You look great onstage。〃
〃Aw hell； I just like to sing。 You guys are the musicians。〃
〃Yeah； right。 You're about as humble as me。〃 Calvin flushed the toilet； pulled his leggings up to a point just above the line of his pubic hair； then turned and in one smooth motion grabbed Zach and pinned him against the wall。 His chest pressed against Zach's； slick with sweat。 His hands slid up Zach's rib cage and his thumbs grazed Zach's bare nipples； then tweaked them gently。 Zach found himself instantly； crazily aroused。
Calvin's lips brushed Zach's。 〃Do you want this as bad as I do？〃 he whispered。
〃Well…yeah； but…〃
Calvin's mouth closed over his； hot and lush； full of the golden taste of beer。 His tongue slid； searched； teased its way into Zach's mouth。 For several seconds they kissed with sloppy abandon。 Calvin's unshaven face scoured him； abraded him。 It would leave scratches。 Zach didn't care。
He felt Calvin's hips nudging against his own； Calvin's dick getting hard against him； pushing into his bare stomach。 Almost automatically； Zach moved his hips so that their hardons were pressed together； separated only by two thin layers of cotton。 The concrete wall was rough