Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey (11 page)

Have to be somewhere in the morning. I’ll catch up to you--have your itinerary. Libby.

She walked back to the side stage and pulled a pushpin from the post, placing her note in a very conspicuous spot. She tightly grasped the itinerary and barely felt her feet touch the ramp as she left backstage.

Watching her leave, Bret retraced her steps to her note. After reading it, he watched Libby making her way across the lot behind the stage, with glaring hatred.

* * *

Laura and Jimmy were sitting in the RV. “Should we tell her we copied the video to her hard drive?” Jimmy whispered to Laura.

As Libby entered the doorway, Laura giggled “Nah, let her find it...it’ll be a nice surprise.”

She handed them her trophy. “For Renegades,” she offered.

Laura replied, “NO, we couldn’t!”

“You can and you
will
! Face it; I wouldn’t have been here without you guys. I did this for
you
!” Laura pulled her friend over, “So, Joe...did you talk to him?”

Libby grinned. “Not really, but I have his itinerary. I’ll find him as soon as I finish what I came out here to do. He did say…he wanted to talk.” She smiled, holding the paper to her chest. She hugged them both, said goodbye and walked them out of the RV.

Libby quickly changed clothes and pulled her hair into a bun, grabbed a soda and took her seat. Within minutes she pulled the rig out of the lot and onto the highway and the fair traffic. She set her GPS for the Grand Canyon. Although she was concerned about the traffic delay, her heart was soaring.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Joe stepped off the stage and looked around for Libby. She was nowhere in sight. He walked through the back rooms, then back down the ramp...no sign of her.

Leaning against one of the tractor trailers, Bret watch smugly as Joe searched for Libby. He turned toward the midway, shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way into the crowd, grinning.

Joe saw Chuck, “Hey, have you seen Lily, I mean Libby?”

“No, man...sure haven’t,” Chuck replied. “I’ll keep my eyes open though. She sure was hot, wasn’t she? She shouldn’t be hard to find…with all that red hair.” Chuck offered a big grin. “Oh, wait, YOU couldn’t see her...” Chuck began to laugh smugly. “Take my word, man, SHE was HOT!” Joe gave him an evil glance and turned toward the stands to continue his search. Just as he hit the gate, a wave of fans screamed his name. He graciously signed autographs, searching the crowd every chance for a glimpse of Libby.

After about twenty minutes, security guards came to his rescue, and he returned to back stage. The fair roadies had their equipment off stage by this time in preparation for the next act, and Joe reluctantly went to the SUV.

“Man, I can’t believe she left without even saying goodbye or letting me know how to get in touch with her...why didn’t I get her number!”

Chuck shook his head, “You know women, man, who can figure ‘em?”

A disappointed Joe got in the passenger seat of the SUV and stared out the window. Dropping his hat over his eyes, he tried to put her out of his mind as Chuck drove the SUV from the fairgrounds to their hotel.

S
hoshone Point, South Rim-Grand Canyon, Arizona, Day 6 - Sunday

Libby pulled into the Shoshone Point, South Rim of the Grand Canyon parking area just before 5:00 a.m. She was beginning to worry she wouldn’t make it. “Man! I hope I still have time to pull everything together.”

She hurriedly grabbed her Dad’s old fishing vest from the closet and packed a small flashlight, the new lenses, freshly charged batteries and several flash cards. Hanging her camera around her neck, she carefully hooked the straps of her canvas chair bag on one shoulder clip and her tripod the other. She slipped the vest on carefully, then snatched her keys and coffee cup. Libby dashed out the door, stopping momentarily to lock the door. Making her way to the canyon rim, she tried to hurry, but struggling to snap on the lid without spilling the hot coffee slowed her momentarily.

“Ahhh! Flarflebloo!” she cried as the hot coffee splashed on her hand, stopping Libby in her tracks. Shaking it off, she checked the lid,

She quickly walked the mile to the point in the darkness while the stars twinkled above. Reaching the narrow promontory, there were a few people scattered about and an open 180° view of the Canyon. To the west was Yaki Point: to the east was Grandview Point. With various points as launch sites, Libby was excited about the great perspective her images would have: the canyon stretching as far as she could see, the balloons rising on the rim, and the wide-open sky. She found a spot to set up and dropped into her chair to set up the tripod and camera. She was physically exhausted, but she was so happy to have achieved her goal…she actually made it to the balloon festival before the launch! Within minutes she was ready and waiting with the others along the rim.

In the distance she saw the fires burning into the growing balloons. The silhouette of one balloon was standing upright against the dawn. In the flashes of fire she could see a rainbow of colors on the large balloon. She attached the camera’s remote control and set the aperture priority to the widest setting.

Taking a long sip of her coffee, Libby muttered, “Man! That’s good and hot!” She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, God, for getting me here—and for not missing anything!”

Now that she was settled and ready to shoot, her mind drifted to Joe. He looked so good...she smiled to herself. She was happy to see him, and glad he wasn’t angry with her. She was too harsh at the diner. He sure seemed anxious to talk with her.

One of her festival neighbors let out an ooh, snapping Libby back to the present. The first balloon was now lifting to the sky. Libby turned her attention to the camera. She focused the camera on the balloon and adjusted settings to accommodate the darkness. She held the shutter release on the remote for a few seconds to see the blurry balloon appear on the screen. AH...didn’t take into account movement! Libby sat back, watching the balloon rise higher and higher.

In the distance, another balloon was reaching for the sky. She focused the camera and snapped a photo. A bit dark, but you could see the outline of the balloon...and the flame was clearly visible. She tried a different resolution on the camera and shot again. A little grainy, but the balloon looked good! She focused on the balloon in the sky and reshot. They would be great memories for her, even if they might not impress anyone else. She made it before the first balloon launched! She’d have that memory forever! Switching to the telephoto lens, Libby played with more settings.

As she watched the beautiful colors of the balloons, backlit by their torches, she began to hear the words to Mom’s favorite song:

Libby smiled; this was a whole new meaning. She felt her Mom close to her heart. “I made it, Mom. I made it!” A tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled at the thought.

Libby sat back and hugged her coffee cup in her hands, appreciating its warmth. Every few minutes, she chose another series of shots with the camera. As the tinted sky whispered the sun’s arrival, Libby checked her settings to accommodate more light. There were several more balloons standing or rising across the canyon, so she focused her attention and camera accordingly.

Just as the sky turned a beautiful hue of orange-mauve, five balloons appeared from the depth of the canyon in staggered unison. The crowds around the canyon cheered, and Libby’s smile glowed like the sunshine that peeked on the horizon.

Without even noticing her tired body, Libby shot for hours on adrenalin and enthusiasm. As the sun rose higher, the hot-air balloons sprinkled over the canyon and inspired Libby to keep going. Several times she felt goose bumps as she checked her camera’s images. The sparsely populated point offered an amazing view, and thankfully, her fellow gawkers shared her appreciation for quiet contemplation and admiration.

Around 10:00 a.m., Libby felt the lack of sleep creeping through her body, so she finished up a few more shots and repacked her gear for the hike back to the RV.

At the RV, Libby dropped her gear inside the doorway and searched the refrigerator for something quick to eat. The bed was wickedly inviting, but her hunger pangs were not to be denied. Grabbing a slice of bologna and pouring a glass of juice, she dropped to the bed for a few hours of sleep.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when Libby awoke. She slowly arose, feeling as if all the energy were drained from her body completely. She took a short shower and made a pot of coffee. Turning on the widescreen, she brought up The Internet as she grabbed the GPS and TBK itinerary from the console. Libby hit the refrigerator for a piece of fruit and poured a cup of coffee. She checked the GPS to find the closest RV station to take care of the routine maintenance. She then reached for the TBK itinerary—their next performance was at 5:00 p.m. today in Santa Fe. She knew it was pointless, but Libby searched the Internet for the Santa Fe Brewing Company. It was over 7 hours and 400 miles. Having no idea where to find him after their gig, she set her sights on their next gig—tomorrow at the Colorado State Fair. She plugged the coordinates into her GPS and saved the information.

With a ten-hour trip facing her, Libby decided to drive part of the way tonight and the rest tomorrow. She found the Bluff Lodge, Cabins and RV Park, located in South Fork, Colorado. The seven-hour drive, which would put her arrival at the RV park at midnight, would leave only a three hour drive to the fair tomorrow. While another long drive was pushing her limits, the idea of seeing Joe made her heart sing. She made a reservation with a late check-in and gave them her credit card number. She drove to the sanitation station and managed her tanks.

While she was flushing her lines, one of the balloonists pulled up behind her. Libby recognized the colors of the balloon painted on the side of his RV.

“Hi!” Libby greeted him as he walked around his RV to manage his tanks on the opposite side of the pump.

“Hey there! Did you have a good time?” The man smiled as he set about his chores.

“Oh! It was amazing! Hey, I don’t suppose you ever go east, do you? I was thinking about a balloon festival fundraiser. I’m from South Carolina and drove out to see the Freedom Festival.”

“Wow! That’s some trip! Thanks for making the effort! Well, I really don’t go that way much myself, but my brother lives in Georgia. He’s a balloonist too—you should definitely get in touch with him. When I finish with this mess, I’ll get his contact information for you.”

“Oh! That’s great! Thanks!” Libby replied. Once they completed their routine maintenance, information was exchanged.

Within half-an-hour she was on her way again, steaming cup of coffee for company and a thrill in her heart that kept her pushing on. As soon as she was underway, she turned on her video and recorded the information from the balloonist, along with her plan for a fundraiser and awareness event using balloons to promote the dangers of driving under the influence. When she had finished her planning session, she recorded her experiences at the canyon for Megan.

Libby drove about three hours before stopping for gas, stretching her legs and buying a hot meal at the truck stop’s restaurant. Forty minutes later, she was back on the road. The sun was beginning to set, and she
really
wanted to sleep. Her body felt as if it hadn’t slept in a week. She turned the music up louder, belted out the songs and forged onward.

As midnight approached, the GPS announced her arrival at the park. She pulled into a spot. Without connecting hoses, she plugged into the power source and wearily crawled into bed. During the night, Joe filled her dreams with his presence and his songs.

S
anta Fe, New Mexico, Day 7 - Monday

The Brothers King arrived at the Santa Fe Brewing Company around 4:00 p.m. Chuck and Joe walked into the bar looking for the manager. He met them enthusiastically, offering his hand to each “Hello brothers! Don Soza, Glad you’re here! We are expecting a complete sell-out!”

“We’re glad to be here,” Joe replied with a smile as he shook Don’s hand.

“Right this way,” Don guided the men to the stage, then showed them to the back door to facilitate their equipment transport. Chuck moved the SUV and trailer up to the door. Joe’s cellphone rang as Don Soza motioned for assistance from his staff. Joe glanced at the phone, “Marty” appeared on the display.

“Hey, Marty-man. How ya doin’?” Joe happily greeted his former manager.

“Joe, it’s good to hear your voice!” Marty replied, his voice a bit unsteady.

“Yeah, good to hear from you. You been feelin’ okay?”

“Ah, well…I do what I can, Joe. I heard you been gettin’ calls…you guys signed yet?”

“Yeah, A.Hole’s been calling Chuck pretty regularly. He knows I’m not havin’ any of it…we had it out a couple of days ago,” Joe replied.

“Well, what’re you planning to do? You’re not thinking about doing it all yourself, are you?”

“Marty, it’s just not the same without you. When you managed us, we didn’t have the problems we do with him. And honestly, if you were running it now, we would’ve signed those papers a long time ago. Did you see the contract?” Joe rubbed the stubble on his face, then the throbbing muscle in the back of his neck.

“No, I told him to fax me a copy, but he never got around to it. He told me that I shouldn’t middle-manage. I think he resented me asking for it. But I really was just tryin’ to help both of you out.”

Chuck stopped to listen as he passed through the doorway for another load. Several staffers appeared with sound and lighting equipment in tow.

“Yeah...I didn’t think so. You need to see it before you ask me to sign it, Marty. He’s cutting us out of most of our royalties. He’s taking such a hit from our bookings—we may as well not get anything. The guy wants to rob us blind….and he wants me to give him
permission
to do it! He might get away with that from somebody who’s new, but I’ve been in this too long to put up with shit like that.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Joe. I’d give anything to get back into the game. I just don’t have the strength. Some days are good…some days, not so much.”

“Well, you can get him off your back and say you tried. He doesn’t want to negotiate; even if he did--I wouldn’t believe a word from his sorry mouth. I’ve got nothin’ else to say to him, Marty. I’m just glad that you didn’t sign over my acting gigs. He’d run me in the ground, I’m sure.”

“Yeah…you’re still set for South Dakota, right?”

“You bet. Day after we’re done with the fairs. I’ll be there—count on it. I’m lookin’ forward to sittin’ still for a while, ya know? Hey, man, it was great talkin’ with you, though. Hope you’re feelin’ better soon...really we do. We miss ya. Things flowed when you were at the helm. Besides, I was a much nicer guy in those days,” Joe laughed as he finished his call.

“So, who was that?” Chuck asked eagerly.

Shoving his phone into his pocket, Joe responded, “Ah...A.Hole thinks he can get to me through Marty. He
really
needs to think again.”

Chuck’s worried expression stayed with him for a while. He forced himself to follow Joe out the door to finish unloading.

“Joe, really, can’t we come to some kinda terms with him?”

“I’m
not
givin’ it all away, Chuck! We work too damned hard for what we’ve accomplished—and it has NOTHING to do with HIM! He doesn’t even care enough about us to pay for this tour like he’s supposed to! He can’t be bothered to get the bus fixed! I can’t believe you’re actually asking me to sell out like this! He thinks SO MUCH of us that he books us in the worst fleabag motels on the planet! And you WANT to be stuck with him for five more years? Hey, if it was a half-way decent deal, I’d give him a year, but there’s no way I’m gonna be stuck with him for five. He hasn’t proven capable or worthy in my book. When Marty got sick, he took advantage of him and his condition. You’ve seen his colors, man, he’s not any different now!”

“Yeah, well, what ARE we gonna do?” Chuck’s face showed more concern than Joe would have ever given him credit.

“Figure it out. Just not today. Look, man, I just wanna get this over with.”

Joe picked up pappy and returned to the bar as he slipped on the strap.

“Yeah, so you keep sayin,” Chuck mumbled through his clenched jaw and picked up a case of cables before he followed Joe.

After set-up and sound-check, they drove the mile to their hotel, checked in and cleaned up. Only the necessary was said between them as they went about their pre-show routine. The brothers grabbed dinner and returned to the SFBC just before the show.

The concert went as usual: the crowd was completely into the music. Joe, being more subdued than normal, was content to move from song to song without much conversation.

“Damn, Joe. It’s like you’re just goin’ through the motions. You’re not callin’ for any shootouts?” Chuck asked off-mic.

Joe shook his head indicating he had no intention and moved into the next song.

For the last song, Joe offered a dedication, “I’d like to sing this one for Libby, wherever she may be.”

When you’re a breath away,

We’re all alone,

My soul knows peace,

My heart knows home.

After the concert, the brothers stuck around the bar, mingling with their fans and raising the occasional glass. For the past couple days, Joe had avoided alcohol. Today, his regrets were more than he could bear, and he ordered a shot and a beer the first chance he got. Throwing back the shot, Joe closed his eyes. The heat of the whiskey felt like a long-lost friend. The image of Libby standing in the parking lot flashed in his mind. He shook it off and walked away from the bar with his beer.

The bar had closed and few staffers were left. Joe sat with Don Soza at a table and tried to get into the conversation they were having with Chuck.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind on the conversation. Several times he caught people looking at him expectantly. The first few, he asked what he missed. Eventually, they all just gave up. The auburn-haired woman had shown Joe a mirror to his soul, and she wouldn’t leave his mind. Around 3:30 a.m., Joe called out, “Let’s hit it, bro,” and the brothers again drove to their hotel.

“You sure were Mr. Personality tonight,” Chuck quipped. “You went through the motions, but if I were in the audience I’d have called you a prick.”

“Well, I didn’t see you stepping up either. But then again, you never do,” Joe responded in a flat tone. Neither brother spoke after that.

* * *

The alarm rang at 5:30 a.m. Normally Joe took the lead because Chuck was involved with company or hung over. This morning in particular Joe was slow to move. When Chuck didn’t hear Joe stirring around the room, he forced himself to get up for the first shower.

“Come-on, hurry up Joe—we have to be in Pueblo for the radio promo at noon. We don’t need to get there at the last minute.”

It was usually Joe who pushed.

They were in the SUV by 6:15 a.m. for the trip to Pueblo and the next fair gig. After stopping for a quick gas-up and breakfast to-go, Joe stretched out on the back seat while Chuck loaded CDs, then pulled onto the highway.