Totally Unrelated (8 page)

“I wish you hadn't done it,” she says, “but I'm happy that everything's out in the open now.”

“So what's going to happen?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I don't know yet. I'll have to see how things play out when I get back to school. The important thing to remember is that the band will still go on, even if I'm not around next year. It'll just be a bit different. Mom and Dad realize that, and they aren't pressuring me either way, which is good.”

I can't help wondering why they haven't taken it that easy on me, but that's just how it is, I guess. I can't be in two places at one time, so I do my best to forget about the talent show. It isn't easy, especially when I close my eyes and imagine kissing Sandy and realize that will probably never happen again.

Mom starts banging on our bedroom doors at five o'clock on Thursday morning. We line up outside the bathroom and wait our turn to take a five-minute shower, then wolf down breakfast and load the bus. By six thirty we're on the road for the four-hour drive to Halifax.

After we cross the causeway to the mainland, Dad pulls the bus over so we can grab some coffee and doughnuts. By this time we're starting to wake up, so when we get back on the road, he starts running through his plan for our set.

“Three songs doesn't give us a huge chance to make an impression,” he says, “so we have to make the most of the time we have. We should definitely start with ‘Off to the Dance.' It gives everyone a chance to do their thing, and it'll get the crowd riled up.”

“Do you think Vince Beach is going to like us?” asks Maura.

“How could he not?” says Mom, turning in her seat and smiling back at us.

“Maybe he'll come out and do a song with us!” says Molly.

“I wouldn't count on that, girls,” says Dad. “I'm sure he'll have a lot of preparing to do backstage. But you never know. Maybe he'll find a minute to hang out in the wings and watch us do our thing.”

When we're an hour away from Halifax, Mom pops the latest Vince Beach CD,
American Saloon
, into the stereo and jacks the volume.

Even though I really don't like country music, it's hard not to get a little bit excited when everyone else in the bus starts singing along.

“
I bought a big old ring, and if you tell me yes, I'll rent a big ol' tux, you'll buy a big white dress.
”

By the time we spot the first sign for Halifax, I'm laughing and belting it out along with them.

“
We'll get a big old crowd, and have a big old night. We've got a future together, and it's big and bright.
”

The concert is on the Halifax Common, a large park in the middle of the city. Dad drives slowly past the fences that have been erected around the perimeter, looking for the talent and personnel entrance. It's slow going, and we're forced several times to stop in the middle of the road as steady streams of people move toward the concert grounds.

“This is nuts,” says Johnny. “The show doesn't even start for three hours.”

“I can't believe we're going to be playing for a crowd this big,” says Kathy.

“They came to see Vince Beach,” says Gran, “but they'll leave talking about the Family McClintock.”

She sounds so sure of this that I start to think about what this concert could mean for us. We've been slowly building a name for ourselves over the years, but exposure like this doesn't come along very often. Although part of me still wishes more than anything that I could be in Deep Cove to play my debut show with Sandy and Bert, I'm happy for the first time in days, knowing that I'm going to experience this moment with my family.

Dad pulls up in front of a large gate and jumps out to talk to some security guards, then quickly gets back behind the wheel while they open the gates. As simple as that, we're in the backstage area. We park and get out of the bus. It's insane back here. The stage is huge, like nothing we've ever played before, and people with clipboards bustle about in all directions.

Molly squeals and points to a huge bus parked off by itself. The side of the bus is dominated by an image of an American flag blowing in the wind. Vince Beach's big grinning face is superimposed on top, sideburns, cowboy hat and all, and
American Saloon Tour
is written in a giant swoosh of glittery letters across the bottom. Two giant burly guys with goatees and sunglasses flank the doors to the bus.

“Wow,” says Johnny. “His bus makes ours look like a tin can on wheels.”

“I bet he's in there right now!” says Maura.

“Don't get too excited,” says Shamus. “By the looks of those bodyguards, you won't get within spitting distance.”

Dad calls out to a young woman who is hurrying past us, talking a mile a minute into a headset. She stops in her tracks and glances over at us impatiently.

“Hi there,” he says. “I'm wondering if you know where I can find Martin Teasdale.”

“He's with the local promoter?” she asks.

“That's right. We're one of the opening acts. The Family McClintock.”

Her eyes do a quick scan of us, clustered together beside the bus. “I believe the local promoters have a table set up over there somewhere,” she says. She points to the other side of the stage and then hurries away without asking if we need anything else.

“Let's you and me go find him,” Mom says, putting her hand on Dad's back.

“You guys hold tight,” says Dad to the rest of us. “We've got to grab the contract and find out from Marty what time we go on. We'll be right back.”

“Come on, girls,” Gran says to the twins. “No reason why we shouldn't get the two of you dressed for the show. It'll save us all a bit of time later on.”

She and Kathy hustle them back onto the bus.

“You guys want to check out the sound setup?” asks Shamus. Johnny and I follow him through the chaos, making our way toward the stage. Next to a metal staircase that leads up to the back of the stage, three guys wearing Vince Beach T-shirts are standing around, laughing and smoking. They've got rolls of tape in different colors hanging from their belts, and one of the guys is talking into a walkie-talkie.

“I think those guys must be roadies,” says Shamus. “They'll know what's going on.”

He walks up to them, and they stop talking and turn to look at him.

“How's it going?” says Shamus.

“Can we help you?” one of the guys asks.

“We're one of the opening acts,” says Shamus. “I was just wondering when we should start setting our gear up. Can we back our bus up here and unload?”

The guys stare at him for a second, then burst out laughing.

“Gear?” says one of the guys, a bald dude with a tattoo of a snake on the back of his head.

“Yeah,” says Shamus, who is beginning to sound unsure of himself. “Our amps and cables and stuff.”

The guys look at each other, amused. Two of them flick their cigarettes to the ground and walk away.

“Listen, man,” says the tattooed guy. “You won't have to worry about your gear. Who did you say you guys were?”

“We're with the Family McClintock,” says Shamus. “We're one of the opening acts.”

“Yeah, well, you're not the only one, so get in line, Mr. McClintock,” he says. “We've got more important things to deal with right now.”

“You don't have to be such a jerk,” says Johnny. Shamus turns and shoots him a look that says shut up, but the tattooed guy just laughs.

“You're right, dude. My apologies,” he says. “It comes naturally. Listen, you don't have to worry about setup. You guys will plug into the sound system Vince is using. Just show up with your instruments when it's time to go on, and we'll take care of you.”

“What about soundcheck?” asks Shamus.

“That should all be in your contract,” says the guy. “I don't know anything about when you get a soundcheck. Don't worry about it though. We do this every day, and we're not gonna make the Family McClintock look bad.”

“Okay,” says Shamus. “Thanks.”

“Man,” says Johnny as we walk back to the bus. “What a bunch of meatheads.”

“They're roadies,” I say. “I think they're supposed to act that way.”

“He's right,” says Shamus. “I should've just let Dad figure that stuff out.”

Molly and Maura are standing with Gran and Kathy beside the bus, practically vibrating with excitement. They're all dressed for the show, in matching tartan dresses, black tights and new dancing shoes.

“You guys look great,” says Shamus, and they giggle excitedly.

“No sign of Mom and Dad?” I ask Gran.

“Not yet,” she says. “They're dealing with the contract. I suppose that takes a while.”

“They're probably getting a tech breakdown too,” says Shamus.

“Hey, check it out!” says Johnny. “There's Vince Beach!”

He's pointing at the tour bus. Sure enough, the door is open and Vince Beach is standing on the bottom step, talking to his guards. The brown Stetson on his head casts a shadow over his aviator sunglasses. In his tight jeans and cowboy shirt, he looks every bit the country music star.

“You girls want to see if you can get his autograph?” I ask the twins.

“Yes!” they yell in unison, jumping up and down. Maura goes into the bus and comes back out with the
American Saloon
CD case.

“You sure that's a good idea?” asks Gran.

“What can it hurt?” I say. “How's he going to say no to those two? Besides, we're opening for the guy. That's gotta mean something.”

“I'll come with you,” says Johnny.

We walk over to the bus, and one of the guards turns around and puts his hand out to stop us. I look at Vince Beach, who is busy explaining something to the other guy and doesn't pay us any attention.

“What do you want?” asks the guard.

“Hi,” I say. “We're one of the opening acts, and my sisters here were really hoping to get Mr. Beach's autograph.”

Without even glancing at us, Vince Beach turns and walks back up the steps into the bus.

“Tell them to line up after the show like everyone else,” he says over his shoulder before the door closes.

Molly looks like she's about to cry, and the guard softens a bit. “Don't worry, honey,” he says. “Vince always needs time to concentrate before his shows. He'll be around backstage when the show is over, and you'll get to meet him then.”

Johnny and I herd the twins back to the bus.

“What's the matter?” Kathy asks the girls when she sees their downcast faces.

“Vince Beach wasn't very nice to us,” says Maura.

“What do you mean?” asks Shamus. “What did he say?”

“He didn't say anything,” says Johnny. “He wouldn't even say hi to them.”

“His bodyguard said he needs to concentrate,” says Molly.

“What kind of grown man needs to concentrate so hard that he can't say hello to a couple of nine-year-old girls?” Gran says. “American buffoon, if you ask me!”

This gets a giggle out of the twins, and the mood lightens for a brief moment, until we see Mom and Dad striding toward us. They don't look happy.

“Unbelievable,” says Dad, shaking a piece of paper.

“What's going on?” asks Shamus.

“You tell them,” Dad says to Mom. “I'm too angry.”

Martin Teasdale hurries up to the bus.

“Guys,” he says, “I'm really sorry about all this. I don't know what to tell you.”

“Why don't you start by explaining why we couldn't have learned about this a month ago?” says Dad. “Or three days ago, when you came to see us in Deep Cove.”

Martin rubs his face. “I didn't know,” he says. “You have to believe me. The Beach people kept telling us there were holdups with the contracts but that it would be no problem. I should have known better, but they were throwing around all kinds of legal talk, and they made everything sound legit.”

Dad throws his hands in the air. “Marty, if I hadn't known you for twenty years, I never would have agreed to hold off on signing a contract,” he says. “I should have trusted my gut.”

“I know,” says Martin. “I don't know what to tell you. I feel terrible.”

“Will somebody please tell us what's going on?” says Gran.

“It turns out there isn't room for us onstage,” says Mom. “Since we didn't pre-sign a contract, there's nothing we can do about it.”

“What?!” I ask at the same time as everybody else.

“You mean we aren't on the program anymore?” asks Johnny.

“Not exactly,” says Martin, who looks miserable. “We were informed this morning that opening acts couldn't exceed four individuals. That's not a problem with the other two acts we booked, but with you guys…” He trails off.

“Four!” says Kathy. “But there are eight of us!”

“Exactly,” says Mom.

“But the stage is huge!” says Shamus.

“It's not the stage,” says Marty. “It's the setup. There's no time to do a soundcheck, and we only have five minutes between acts. Now the tech guys are telling us they only have time to mic and line-in four people per show.”

“Tell them the rest of it, Marty,” says Dad.

“Apparently,” says Martin, “Beach decided at the last minute that he wanted to bring his own opening act along with him. Some up-and-coming country starlet named Lula Burke.”

“Omigod, we love her!” scream the twins.

“I bet Vince Beach loves her too,” Johnny whispers to me.

“Anyway,” Martin continues, “that means that for the local openers there will only be time for one song per act.”

“So just to recap,” says Dad. “No time for a soundcheck. No time for the three songs we've prepared. No room for the whole family.”

“That's right,” says Martin. “I am really, really sorry about this.”