Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey (9 page)

“One of the enhancements was the new sound system. It’s state-of-the-art and the only one like it anywhere around here,” Laura excitedly announced over the music “We can do a programmable light show and all these neat special effects.”

Approaching the bar, Laura added, “We added this custom-built bar, with the lighting and lighted bottle-nooks…looks great, right?”

The massive bar was very impressive—a highly polished dark wood with southwestern wooden inlays, and cutouts with frosted glass that were lit from within, each cutout displayed beautiful bottles of varying liquor bottles. A wall of shelves with multicolored bottles of liquor and beer as decoration glowed behind the bar. Pinpoint LEDs hung across the ceiling for the bartenders, lighting the area where the real magic happened, while maintaining the impressive glow of the bar and liquor lights.

“What’s your pleasure,” Jimmy smiled as he arrived behind the bar, tossing bottles and shakers like the best professional bartenders. Libby laughed, “Ginger ale,” she laughed as she took in the entire bar and restaurant. In front of the bar was a walkway that lead to a doorway. Across from the bar were tables and booths against the farthest wall.

“I’m impressed!”

Laura pulled out stools for herself and Libby. She reached for a menu and shared it with her friend, “We also upgraded our food selections, because we were able to get a new grill and dishwasher.” The menu was extensive, offering much more than the typical bar-fare. “Marco Salazar applied for a job as a barback about four months ago, but when Jimmy burnt his hand on the grill one night—and we had a room full of folks and a list of orders long as your arm, Marco stepped in and blew us all away with his creations and his artistry. Jimmy decided to let him have the grill, and he went back to workin’ the bar after that night. Marco has a ball! It didn’t take long for us to learn to let him decide our specials, either. Seems anything we asked him to make paled in comparison to the things he created on his own, and he’s usually doing it cheaper and with fewer ingredients! If things keep going like they have been, our silent partner should see a return on her investment by the first of the year!”

Libby smiled at Laura, then looked around noticing the banners that hung around the dance floor and the make-shift stage, “Renegade’s Singing Contest this Friday! Winner goes to Regionals at NM State Fair-win a recording contract!” A separate banner placed above that banner read “Last Chance! Don’t Miss It”

Laura turned to see Libby’s face as she read the banners. “So, you’re gonna sing for us, right?” Libby looked startled at her friend’s suggestion.

“No!” she laughed, “isn’t that like a conflict of interest or something? Besides, I don’t have my guitar—and even if I did, my finger’s mangled.”

“Why?” asked Laura.

Jimmy joined in, “I hear you’re an amazing singer, you have to! Laura’s talked so much about spending time at your house when she was a kid…I’ve been dying to hear you, really. Come on! I’m sure we can work something out,” he winked at Laura.

Libby smiled at his compliment. “I don’t know...we’ll see.” Libby really didn’t feel like singing in public, but she didn’t want to be a killjoy either.

“You have to try out our new stage, Libby! We’re hoping to start auditioning bands next month,” Laura insisted. “Or, maybe we’ll just get a house band...I haven’t decided yet.”

Laura led Libby to a reserved table and insisted she look through their new karaoke book. While they sat, they caught up on all the gossip from home.

The night brought a big crowd, with five new participants in the big contest. Laura snuck Libby’s name in at the last minute through a waitress. The past three weekends each produced two top winners coming forward to tonight’s competition. Around 8:00 the DJ announced the first contestant, the runner-up from the first weekend’s contest. The contestant brought his music selection up and stepped behind the microphone.

By 10:30, the crowd was feeling no pain and happy to lend their support to their favorite singers. The DJ announced “The twelfth, and final contestant for the evening, Libby Morgan!”

Libby was shocked to hear her name, and shot a hard glance at Laura.

“Come on!” Laura urged. “You need to do it! Do it for me...please!”

When Libby didn’t look convinced, Laura added, “What song was it your Mom always asked you to sing?”

That broke Libby—she had no willpower to stand up against the “Mom” card.

“I don’t have it here! Come on, Laura, I can’t…”

“Well, I have to confess. Megan emailed me the song, I burned it to a CD last night. The one...with your Mom playing guitar. Please! Do this!”

Libby reluctantly walked to the stage and stepped up to the mic. As the familiar blues-styled chords of her mother’s guitar began to play.

Libby closed her eyes, “For Momma.” For a moment, she was back on the front porch with Mom, Dad and Tommy. Tears filled her eyes and she took a deep breath. As she began to sing, the first notes came out shaky.

Rainbows and moonbeams

Take me to dreams
down roads that never end.

Libby opened her eyes and brushed away tears. She heard her Mom’s voice in her head-teaching her students’ lessons. “If you don’t give it your best, who’ll ever know what you can do! Always give the best you have to offer, and they’ll love you for it, whether it’s perfect or not!”

Libby took a deep breath and looked across the bar and all the expectant faces. Libby straightened her back, tightened her diaphragm and sang out the next line with great conviction; it was as if her life depended on it. The crowd cheered.

Takin’ me places

I’ve longed to see

where I can disappear.

‘Cause I want to be

so far from here,

Where sunny days shed no tears.

This whisp’rin’ wind

that calls my name

tells me ‘just come on in.

Fire in my soul

Fly away

color me gold.

Sweet melody,

take my heart

everywhere it wants to go.

Libby gave a performance like she never had before. She could feel her mother’s presence, giving her strength and determination. As the song finished, she stepped back and said quietly, “Thanks, Mom.” Tears filled her eyes again as the crowd rose to their feet. The energy from the crowd made her step back in shock.

The DJ was beside her in an instant. “Folks, we have a unanimous winner here!” Laura joined her onstage with a big hug.

Jimmy met them at their table with a bottle of champagne. Libby was embarrassed by the fuss, but played along.

“Only for you, Laura. I don’t think I’d have done that for anybody but you.” She put aside her own misery and celebrated with her friends.

“So, you’re going to the regionals, right?” Laura asked excitedly.

“What? No! When?” Libby said sipping her glass of champagne.

“Tomorrow...in Albuquerque.”

Libby panicked. “I have to be at the Grand Canyon at sunrise for the balloon festival on Sunday morning! I couldn’t possibly make it. Could I?”

“Well, it might be tight, but I think you should be fine. The contest should be over by 8 o’clock – they have the professionals on stage at 8, so if you left then, you should be about...seven hours away, I think. It’ll mean another late night, though...are you game? Please say you are! You should do this! Jimmy and I’ll be there to cheer you on! You and I can leave in the RV – I can drive on the interstate, but you’ll have to take the streets. Jimmy can follow us in our car. Or we can make Jimmy drive the RV, and you and I can take the car!”

Libby laughed. “Okay...okay! If you promise I’ll be free to get to the balloon launch. After all,
that’s
why I came out here,” Libby laughed. Exhausted, Libby added, “Hey, how ‘bout let this weary woman go to sleep! Looks like it’s gonna be another long day tomorrow. Why do they call this rest and relaxation?”

Laura smiled apologetically, but happily obliged.

* * *

Libby followed Laura into the house. In Laura’s bedroom, Libby changed back into her borrowed shorts and tee. Picking up her belongings to leave, she winced as her broken finger disagreed with her actions. Laura was in the kitchen putting on a pot of coffee.

As soon as politely possible, Libby said goodnight and returned to the RV. She placed the movies on the shelf in the corner of the living area. She picked up one of the movies, read the description, then shook her head. A movie would be a nice wind-down, but her brain had been in overdrive for so long, she put it back and closed the glass cabinet door. Relieved to crawl into her bed that night, she was completely exhausted.

“Tomorrow’s another long day,” she sighed, “best to face it with a full night’s sleep.”

* * *

As she lay in bed, she could hear the chords of her mother’s guitar playing in her head. Libby drifted off into a peaceful sleep, faint smile fading from her lips while a teardrop touched her pillow.

A
lbuquerque, New Mexico, Day 5 - Saturday

Libby and Laura climbed out of the RV to meet Jimmy, who parked his Jeep beside the RV. Libby stretched out the kinks of the four-hour drive, as Laura greeted Jimmy with a kiss. “Did you remember the video camera?” Laura whispered in his ear. Turning his shoulder bag toward her, Jimmy patted the bag and smiled.

The group made their way across the parking lot and approached a man standing next to a gate. After a brief conversation and a flash of their contest credentials, they moved into the fair’s grandstand area via a back gate specifically marked for contestants. The New Mexico State Fair was in full swing as the three made their way into the arena. Another door...another man. Jimmy asked the man the right question, and the three moved into the main outdoor arena. The girls sat and watched the stage setup in progress. A large screen divided the stage into separate units.

“Wonder what that’s all about?” Laura asked.

Libby shrugged as she glanced at all the activity around the arena. Several individuals were watching from the audience. She wondered if they were contestants too. “So, how many contestants are supposed to be here anyway?” Libby asked.

“I’m not sure; it’s six states, so maybe twelve? We won a drawing for hosting the contest, so I know that others probably did the same. The contest is scheduled to start at 3 o’clock, that’s a good five hours before the headliners.”

“You realize it took about two and half hours to go through twelve people at the bar. That was...five people per hour. Let’s hope they plan a nice long break before the headliners come on. I’d think they’d have a tighter schedule than last night...so they could be doing more than thirty contestants this afternoon!” Libby stated, looking hard at Laura, whose eyes widened at the prospect.

“I’m sure that’s not the case...right? Let’s think positively, Libs,” she chuckled. Seeing Libby’s worried face, she added, “You’ll be great! And…you’ll get to the canyon in plenty of time.”

“I really don’t want to miss tomorrow. You know my obsession. I’ve wanted to see the balloons for
so
long. Every year, I searched for the calendars with the balloons overlooking the canyon – I framed ‘em when they were outdated! When things were...difficult, they were my inspiration. I just kept thinking—looking down at the world, with all the colors, in the quiet sky...you know? The colors were so…happy. Even though they teased me mercilessly at work about it being my
shrine
, I couldn’t have faced some days without those mental escapes. If I did all of this—and then missed it! I’ll never live it down.” Libby looked worried. “And...I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Or ME! Don’t worry...we’ll make sure you get there, even if we have to drive you ourselves!” Laura looked sympathetic, but her eyes pleaded.

Jimmy arrived with badges on lanyards for the three of them. “Alright, ladies, what now?”

Laura replied, “I guess we need to get this gal dolled up for her debut.” Jimmy laughed at Libby’s worried face, then gave Laura his raised eyebrow in reply.

The trio returned to the RV, and Libby dressed while Jimmy watched TV. Laura nervously went back and forth between the two, and made sandwiches for lunch.

“You’ll need this,” Jimmy handed Libby the CD of her song as they left the RV.

Libby locked the RV, then handed Laura her keys. “Hold these, so I don’t leave them somewhere.” The trio then proceeded to the arena.

“Break a leg, kid,” Jimmy beamed.

“Bring home that trophy, girl,” Laura cheered on Libby.

Libby managed a weak smile before she turned and walked backstage with regret written all over her face. “I’d rather be driving to the canyon right now. How
did
I get myself into this?” she muttered.

Libby stopped the first person she found, “I’m a contestant, where do I go?”

“Have you been to orientation?” the man asked.

“Not yet.”

He led her to a room behind the main stage where two people sat behind a table. A handsome young man was filling out forms in a chair opposite the table. Two others sat off to the side. Libby introduced herself to one of the attendants, who very nonchalantly handed her a clipboard. “Fill out the information and bring it back when you’re done.”

Libby managed a small smile, nodded and sat down next to the young man.

“Hi.”

“Hi, yourself,” the young man responded warmly. “I’m Michael,” he offered his hand.

“Libby,” taking his hand, she noticed he wasn’t much older than Megan.

“Nevada...you?” Michael asked.

“Well, South Carolina by way of New Mexico,” Libby laughed. “It’s been a tailspin, really,” she shook her head in disbelief.

“Wow,” Michael responded. “You do this kinda thing often?” he asked, trying to size up his competition.

“No,” she laughed. “First time, actually. Oh…do you mean the trip or the contest?”

“Either. Both.”

“Well, actually, it’s my first time for both…so. How ‘bout you?”

“Well, my band has been trying to get a recording contract for some time. We lost our lead singer last month. He has this danger fetish. Skydiving this time...broke both legs.”

“I’m so sorry,” Libby offered.

“Yes, us too. We need that recording contract, and we had to find a stand-in at the last minute. I’m not so sure how this is going to turn out.” He stood, “Well, here’s hoping! Hey, good luck!”

She smiled back, “And to you too, Michael. Good luck!”

Libby concentrated on her forms. The rules stated the first song was her choice. Libby knew Maggie’s guitar was impeccable on the CD Laura gave her—now all she had to do was try to match Mom’s talent. She sighed at the thought.

“Geez, how did I get myself…”

Next, she read that she would be assigned an additional song with thirty minutes to prepare. The song would be selected by random drawing, and no song could be changed. If a contestant didn’t know their song, they should choose to do their best or withdraw from the competition. Any contestant caught exchanging songs would be immediately disqualified.

Libby smiled at the image of a large hook dragging someone offstage.

Judging will be conducted by a blind panel. Judging is based on performance, ability and crowd response; but not on the contestant’s appearance.

Libby signed her forms and returned to the attendants. “How many contestants are there?”

“You’re number 25,” the woman responded dryly. She pointed to the back hallway and warm-up rooms. “There are only 12 warm-up rooms, but you’re so far down the list, you might want to come back later. Your call.”

As the crowd cheered wildly from the stage area, the other attendant said, “They must be announcing the judges.”

Libby felt a butterfly flutter.

“Thanks,” she offered a smile to the disinterested women, then made her way toward the narrow hallway and the warm-up rooms. She waited in the hallway with other contestants, some nervous and excited, others appearing calm and disinterested. The sound of mixed vocals blended with an array of guitars and songs filled the hallway. Room-by-room emptied and refilled, each change brought sporadic flurries of anxious contestants through hallway as each made their way to the stage with the promise of a bright future.

* * *

Hours passed before the hallway was mostly empty, Libby finally had her chance for warm-up. Sitting at a mirrored desk, Libby dropped her CD into a small player on the desk and began vocalizing with warm-ups she’d heard the vocalists go through in her Mom’s vocal training sessions at home.

“Oh, Mom, I wish you were here now. How did I get myself into this?” Libby asked her reflection. She ran through her song a couple of times and went back to the attendants.

Hearing the crowd cheer, she walked to the side stage and saw Michael with his band waiting in the wing. He smiled at her and waved a drumstick, saying “Number 22.”

She replied “25,” and smiled.

Suddenly a boisterous British accent drowned out the murmurings, barking commands at everyone in his path as he paced the floor, “Out-ta my way! Do you
mind
? Get your fat arse outta my way!”

“Calm down, Puckett. You act like a ass,” Michael whispered harshly at him.

“Hey, you wanker, get off my back. THIS is my PROCESS, and I’d thank you to keep your pikey nose out of it!” he snapped.

Michael acquiesced, reluctantly. “Don’t blow this for us, man,” he whispered sternly.

The third contestant was called and rushed past the group. Bret intentionally stood in his way and knocked his shoulder as he passed. When the man glared back, Bret laughed.

For the next two hours, Libby sat, waiting for her turn.
Just get through this
, she kept telling herself. She was called to the registration table for her thirty-minute warning, and a song was handed to her on a piece of paper.

“The National Anthem? Really?”

Flyin’ so High
was a ballad, and now her assigned song was another ballad.

Bret appeared over her shoulder. “Bugger, that’s the kiss-o-death, ain’t it, tart?” he laughed. “A ballad, you may as well hang it up!” He pompously walked away, laughing in that oh-so-fake way, just for attention.

“Number 22, stage left,” was heard over the small backstage speaker.

Libby was set. She walked back to the warm-up room and loaded the CDG player with her assigned song. She went over it a couple of times and set her mind that she’d sing it with all the purpose she could muster.
She’d show that jerk
.

* * *

The Pack arrived on stage to the standard gratitude offered all singers by the crowd. As they began the first notes to their upbeat original song, Bret snatched the microphone so hard, the stand smashed to the ground. He began bouncing across the stage; his performance reminiscent of Tigger--performing in a heavy metal band. His talent was similar to Jagger, but his buoyant behavior eventually turned the crowds’ rhythmic claps to laughter. The more Bret realized they were laughing
at
him, the angrier he got. He began flipping his middle finger at some of the closer members of the audience, which began to incite booing. One hysterical man standing near side-stage received a directed turn of Bret’s behind, complete with a slap to make Bret’s point, as Bret himself made a kissing sound in his microphone as he glared back over his shoulder at the man.

The judges seemed to like Bret’s vocal performance, The Pack’s song and their sound. Most of the judges marked their score cards with high numbers until they astutely watched the enthusiasm of the crowd turn to animosity as the song progressed. They began looking to each other, wondering what could be causing the crowd to turn so quickly. Several judges marked through their previous marks with lower scores as it became clear something wasn’t going well.

By the end of the song, Bret finished the last words and stormed off stage, throwing the microphone at Michael who stood closest to the stage entrance. Michael faltered, but thankfully caught it before it hit the ground. As The Pack struggled to maintain their composure, their brief huddle ended with a collected fist-bump, and they each returned to their microphones. The introductory chords to the Troggs’ hit,
Wild Thing
. They collectively joined in to bring the crowd back to their feet, happily dancing and singing along.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Libby’s number was called to stage left. She squelched the butterflies. She might not want to be there, but she was more determined than ever to give it her all. “Thanks for giving me the shove, you
wanker,
” Libby mocked Bret as she steeled herself as she approached the stage.

Her first song was loaded and Libby walked on stage as her name was called. Her final utterance, “Own it!”

And she did. She sang the song as if her mother was in the front row, beaming with pride. The crowd cheered loudly, some stood. She was grateful and acknowledged her appreciation with a slight bow and big smile as she waved to the crowd.

The second song cued and the intro began. The crowd came to their feet, many with hand over heart. Libby stepped toward the end of the stage, making a personal connection to all those with whom she could make eye contact. She tried not to think about the faces staring back at her. She delivered
The Star-Spangled Banner
with determination and precision. Every note was perfect, and she connected.
Not much more I can do
, she thought. She really didn’t care if she didn’t win, she just didn’t want to disappoint her friends.
Or Mom
.

As Libby acknowledged the cheering crowd with, bows, smiles and waves. Then she gratefully turned and walked off stage, handing the microphone to the attendant.

She met Michael as she walked off. “Great job!” He offered.

“How’d you do?” She asked him.

“We did fine...but I think Bret may have blown it. He has more attitude than every contestant combined.” He smiled nervously. “Too bad we didn’t run into you sooner,” Michael mused.

Two more contestants performed, then the Emcee, Shay Jameson, began entertaining the audience with jokes and stories as the votes were tallied.

At 7:30, the promoter, Gordon Fisher, walked onstage with a piece of paper and all contestants were gathered close in the wings. The Emcee asked all contestants to step back onto the stage. Jameson, took the paper from Fisher and shook his head. “Well, we’re gonna announce our third place winner first. Third place receives a cash prize of $150, and the third place award goes to... Darrin Jones! Darrin, come on down!” A boy, no more than eleven, walked onto the stage and waived at the crowd. “Congratulations, Darrin, you did a great job! Folks we can expect great things from this chap!” Fisher shook Darrin’s hand. Jameson followed suit, and Darrin took his place center stage and waved at the crowd.

“Now, normally I would’ve introduced the judges before announcing the winners, but we have a highly unexpected situation here. As you know, the judges voted on audience participation and vocal performance. It’s a numbers-based system. And, well, after we tallied votes, we have a tie for first place! So, the only way we can determine a winner is to have a
sing-off
!” Most of the crowd cheered: a few booed. “So, with that, Bret Puckett and the Pack will you please step forward!”