Page 105 of The Girl with No Name

“This is Henry,” he answers with that scruffy, seasoned voice.

“Henry. This is Reed Walker.”

“Oh shit, Reed. You didn’t waste any time.”

“Just being polite. What’s up?”

“Yeah, so we’re playing a gig at the Aragon Ballroom Friday, and our opener just dropped out last second.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“Some weird band drama. Egos, you know? They broke up.”

“Sorry to hear that. So why are you calling me?”

“I was wondering, do you have any more originals?”

“Yeah. A ton.”

“Sweet. What are your thoughts on opening for us?”

My pulse elevates. “You want me to open for the Red Lemons. On Friday.”

“Did I stutter, doofus?”

“No, I’m just processing.”

“You’re shocked? Bro, anyone with your balls, who played a song for us at Railfest, I figured would have the balls to open.”

Somehow I make myself keep talking. “I don’t have a band, though.”

“Which pieces would you need? I know a couple of bum musicians in the area who are always looking for work.”

I stare out at the vast, darkening deep blue expanse of the lake. No full moon tonight, just the light of the city reflecting off of it.

“So you down or what, Reed?”

“I mean, c’mon. Pope shit in the woods?”

“Uhh..what?”

“I mean, is the Pope Catholic? I always mix those up. I’m in, baby!”

He laughs. “That’s my boy. Can you do, like, seven originals? Between thirty and forty-five minutes should cover it. If you go over, no big deal.”

I can feel myself nodding now. “I can muster that up. No problem.”

“Oh, and feel free to bring that girl along to sing on a couple of songs, if you want. What’s her name again?”

“That…is a funny story. I don’t know actually know her name.”

“Ha! That’s epic! Not even gonna ask. All right, I’ll pass your information to my manager, and she’ll get you all the details you need. Sound good?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, and Reed? One more thing.”

“Yeah?”