Miles Away

"Hey, BrightSparrow. You awake yet?"

The message hovered in his chat window waiting for a reply while Randall's heartbeat picked up in his chest. The seconds rolled by, and he started to wonder if it was too early to be trying to contact her when the notification that she was typing popped up.

"Barely...Haven't had my morning coffee yet. Just couldn't live without me another second, huh?"

He smiled at her reply, "I just got some good news, and I was dying to share it with you."

"Do tell."

"Loose Change just got booked for it's biggest gig yet."

"Really! That is so awesome, baby. Where?"

"Gordon City this weekend."

There was an uncharacteristic hesitation in her reply and the possibility that he had tumbled to her location after all loomed even more significant with each second that past.

"That's cool," came her terse reply at last.

Now was the time to take the plunge Randall figured, but his hands shook so bad he had trouble typing. It took three tries before the message was spelled out. His finger sat above the "enter" key for what seemed like an eternity before he finally pressed it.

"I would like you to be there to see me play."

There was another long delay, and he sat trying to breath slowly while he waited.

"I don't understand? Why would you think I could come?"

"Please don't freak out. I'm not trying to be a stalker or anything, but you left something in your last photo that kind of clued me in. I'm not asking you to meet me face to face it would just be nice to know that you out there watching me."

Figuring that she must be backtracking to check her last submission he waiting again patiently.

"I see. As long as we're clear that this isn't going to be a meetup or something, I guess I could come to see the concert."

"That's all I'm asking it would mean a lot to me. Promise you will be there?"

"O.K. I promise ;) Mr. Sherlock Holmes. That is what I get for leaving such an obvious clue."

"I will make sure to put on my best performance ever!"

"You better! I'm not paying for this show to see you half-ass it up there :)"

"I need to get ready for school. See ya."

"Take it easy."

Randall logged out of his computer and went to shower. The hot water slapping his face went a long way to waking him up fully, and he dressed quickly afterward slicking his wet hair back out of his face. The smell of bacon frying on the stove reached his nostrils as soon as he left his room, and he found his mother cooking away in the kitchen.

"Morning, Mom."

"Randall. Fetch me the milk would ya?" said his mother.

Beverly Taft was a small woman, even smaller than his father barely scraping five-foot-two-inches. She was the only one in the family that could rightly be called a morning person. Her tiny blond head moved slightly side to side as she hummed some aimless tune while her hands deftly moved around the stove. Randall was hoping to avoid his father, but luck wasn't with him. George Taft came out of the bedroom and scowled at his only progeny.

"Randall, perhaps we could finish the conversation you ducked out on last night."

"I'm kind of in a hurry, Dad. I have a class this morning."

"Then tonight for sure. This is important, Randall. I want to make sure we are on the same page once and for all about your future."

"I hear you, Dad."

"Look, Randall. I'm not trying to be a dictator here I know you care about this band thing an awful lot. I'm just trying to make sure you're realistic about things that's all. I thought maybe this weekend you and I could do some fishing. What do you say?"

He could tell his Dad was offering an olive branch and he winced.

"The thing is, Dad, I won't be around this weekend. I'm going to Gordon City."

"Gordon City?" echoed his Mom, "Whatever for?"

"The band got booked to do a concert. It's our biggest one yet. You know...You guys would be welcome to come."

His dad stared at him rubbing his jaw and shaking his head.

"Gordon City? Are you going to haul yourself all that way to play music? You know if you put half as much energy into your studies..."

"I get it, Dad, I need to go."

He didn't wait for his father to finish but snagging a piece of bacon off the stove, he gave his mother a quick peck on the cheek and headed out the door.

The weekend arrived all too quickly, and Randall found himself at the Meyer's house helping to load equipment into the van. Along with the Meyer brothers the band's bassist, Danny Stevens, was there as well. Danny was a tall, skinny kid with a prominent forehead who was given to whistling constantly. It was a habit that Zach found particularly annoying, and Randall wondered how far they would get on this trip before the two of them came to blows over it.

"Jesus, Stevens, we're not even out of the driveway yet, and you're already sounding off like a damn bird," commented Zach.

"You're just pissed, Mr. Lead Singer because you can't whistle," retorted Danny.

It was true that Zach had never been able to master the subtle art though whether he actually cared only Zach Meyer knew, and he wasn't telling.

"If I made as annoying a sound as you then I'm guessing people would be just as happy that I don't."

"Come on guys! This is a long trip. What do you say we keep a lid on the arguing o.k.?" said Kip who was always the peacemaker of the group.

Zach rolled his eyes but finished packing the van in silence.

The road rolled by while Randall sat in the back of the van with his feet resting on an amplifier. He had a battered looking notebook sitting on his knees, and his brow was furrowed in concentration.

"What you working on, Randall? New song?" asked Danny.

"Something like that..." he replied evasively. Though Randall wrote most of the band's music, it was Zach who wrote all the lyrics. Randall felt that he wasn't very good at the kind of poetic imagery that songwriting seemed to demand.

"I hope it's got a kick-ass riff!" shouted Zach from the passenger seat up front.

"I hope so too," whispered Randall to himself.

Danny tried to lean over and get a look at what Randall was scribbling in his notebook, but the cover slammed shut before he could see anything.

"Do you mind?" snapped Randall.

"O.K., O.K. be that way. I swear you artist types are so touchy."

"You don't consider yourself an artist, Danny?"

"I'm a bassist. I'm just here for the pussy."

The band rocked with laughter as they tooled on down the road.

They hit Gordon City after a five-hour drive feeling stiff but happy to be there. Zach had found them a cheap roadside motel to stay in, and they split the room cost four ways. The group stopped at a diner across the street for a quick bite then grabbed a nap back at the room so they could be rested for the show that night. Randall tried to sleep, but his mind was too busy with thoughts of BrightSaprrow being in the audience that night. Deep down, he wished that she had offered to meet in person but he understood why she didn't want to, and he would never have pushed her for such a thing. He gave up trying to sleep and instead opened his notebook his pen hovering over the bent, yellow pages while he hummed quietly to himself occasionally stopping to scratch something down.

Randall and Zach stood on the empty stage taking in the auditorium where they would be playing in a few hours. It was far and away bigger than any of the small clubs they were used to playing.

"Don't be intimidated, right?" commented Randall when he saw how nervous Zach looked.

"Damn straight!" said Zach trying to stand tall and look the part of the cool lead singer even if he wasn't feeling it.

"Shit! This place is immense," commented his brother, Kip, as he joined them.

"Thanks, Kip, you're doing wonders for my confidence," mumbled Zach.

"Don't you worry little brother. You will have this crowd eating out of your hands."

Zach just nodded while his haunted eyes rolled over the empty seats.

"Let's do the sound check."

The room where the band was waiting for their turn on stage was filled with nervous tension. Zach stood in the middle sucking on a lemon and bouncing up and down on his toes while doing scales over and over. In the far corner, Danny was tuning his bass quietly while whistling an off-key rendition of an old Grateful Dead song, and next to him Kip spun his drumsticks around his fingers and stared into space. Randall watched all of them with an almost paternal eye. He had tuned his guitars already and now rested on a couch with his feet crossed over. For reasons, he had never entirely understood the moments just before a show were the least worrisome for him. While the others looked as if they were about to give birth, he felt a slow, calm fall over him. The distant hum of the waiting crowd through the walls seemed to call to him like a beacon.

"Loose Change! You're up!" said a sound tech-leaning in the doorway.

"This is it, boys. Make it good!" shouted Zach leading the way.

The band was barely on stage for two minutes when it became clear they had nothing to worry about after all. Zach was at his confident best, and he won the crowd over in record time racing from one end of the stage to the other while belting out the lyrics to one of their more popular rock anthems. The audience was already on its feet clapping along to the rhythm when Randall launched into the first of several planned solos his guitar ripping through the night with a sound that left everyone in the venue roaring in approval. Zach had the band run through four straight fast numbers before he took things down a notch with a ballad he had just written the previous month.

"Bottle up my soul...And toss it in the sea...Because without you, baby...There ain't no point in being me..." he sang to the audience while they fired up their cell phones in place of the thousands of lighters that would have lit such an event back in the day.

They wrapped up their set with another long, fast song with Randall taking the front of the stage for a blistering solo that left the crowd cheering.

"Holy Shit! We nailed it!" cried Kip as they hit the waiting room in the back.

Zach had his arm around Danny, and they both were grinning ear to ear.

"You were on fire up there, Randall!" said Zach.

Randall bowed his head turning a bit red with a modest blush.

"I think I was a bit off during 'Hot Girl Blues," he replied.

"Bullshit! You were perfect!" said Zach slapping him on the back hard enough to throw him off balance.

The door to the room opened, and a huge security guard big enough to almost block the entrance stood there glaring at them. The band halted their celebrating staring at the menacing scowl on his bearded face.

"Which of you little shits is Randall Taft?"

Three sets of fingers pointed instantly at Randall.

"Thanks, guys," said Randall in a shaky voice.

"Something I can do for you, sir?"

The burly guard looked him up and down slowly not smiling a bit, "There's some chick out here at the door says she's your cousin or something. I forgot the name. It was a bird name like Ms. Crow or Sparrow or something. Fuck it. I don't know."

Randall stood frozen as the guard departed.

"You have a cousin that lives here? You never mentioned anything about that, Randall?"

Randall was already moving not bothering to answer the question evident in Zach words. He passed through the door feeling as if he was walking in a daze as he made his way to the red door that led out into the venue. A woman was standing there looking a bit lost, and though he had never fully seen her face before Randall recognized her in an instant.

"BrightSaprrow?"

She turned at the name with her thick mane of auburn hair spilling around her face, and covering one side. Her hand came up to brush the unruly strands back away from her wide, green eyes.

"Hey, Randall," she said nervously.

"I didn't think you were...I...I thought we weren't going to meet?"

"I didn't think we would either but...You just played so well and...I guess I couldn't let you go without telling you that you rocked it out there," she said.

They stood just a few feet apart. Randall tried to take her all in at once. She looked taller in person, and now that he could see her whole face he was even more impressed with how beautiful she looked with her rounded, fair skinned features making a perfect counterpoint to her reddish hair. When she smiled it lit her whole face. The short green dress she wore showed off her toned legs.

Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed the show."

"Yeah, it was great. You have so much talent, Randall."

"That's nice of you. Um..."

"Sabrina...My real name. It's, Sabrina," she said extending her hand.

Her hand slid into his making a perfect fit. The skin of her palm was incredibly soft and smooth. He felt the warmth of her touch spreading into him, and it was only with great difficulty that he released her from his grip. Randall had fantasized this moment in his head a million times, but now that it was here he went completely blank about what to say next.

"Wow, It's really you."

"It's really me. Disappointed?" she asked shyly.

"What!? Oh...No, not at all. You're even more pretty in person. I'm sorry I...I didn't...I'm not sure what to say..." he finished feeling lame. This had always been his problem with women an inability to articulate what he was thinking. He felt his natural shyness start to fall over him like a smothering blanket.

"Hey. Do you want to get out of here? Get a drink...and talk?" she asked suddenly her words spilling out in a quick flood.

"YES! I mean...Sure, I would love too," said Randall trying to keep his cool, "Just give me a second so I can tell the guys."

Randall practically ran back to his bandmates finding them packing up their instruments.

"Randall? Who was this cousin...?" started Zach, but Randall cut him off.

"Look, guys, can you take my guitars back to the motel? I have to deal with something."

"Is everything o.k.?" asked Kip in a worried tone.

"Yeah...It's just a family thing. I will meet you back at the motel later."

"Before you go we got more good news," cut in Zach.

"What?"

"A club owner for some place called 'The Standing Room' was in the audience and he loved the show. He wants us to play tomorrow night, and he made us a pretty decent offer enough to more than reimburse us for this trip and give us a tidy profit along with what we got for tonight," said Zach.

"That is good news."

"Yeah. So it looks like we are staying an extra day. Are you sure you don't want to invite your cousin to celebrate with us?"

"Maybe we could meet up later. I gotta go," said Randall leaving his puzzled bandmates staring after him.

He half expected Sabrina to have fled by the time he got back, and it was with a sense of relief that he found her still standing by the stage door. The parking lot was full since Loose Change had only been the second act of the night to play, so they were able to exit with a minimum of fuss. Her car was precisely the kind he had imagined she would drive, small and economical. The radio had a CD in the player that kicked on automatically when she started the engine, and he smiled when he realized she had put a bunch of Loose Change songs on it.

"I hope you didn't leave that in the player just to boost my ego," said Randall.

"I'll never tell," she replied laughing.

"Have you lived here long?"

"My whole life."

Slowly, the conversation started to flow as they got past the awkwardness of being together in person and not separated by hundreds of miles and the anonymity of the Internet. Randall began to relax and find his voice without the benefit of a keyboard. They talked about the show with Sabrina going on about her favorite moments.

"I loved that solo you did at the end of, 'Bottle Up My Soul' it was haunting. I could feel the loneliness."

"Thanks. I worked for months to get that right. Zach was a real taskmaster on it. He kept at me to make it perfect."

"I guess it helps to have someone there to push you."

"It can. If you don't end up driving each other crazy after awhile."

Sabrina pulled into the lot of a quiet looking pub that had only a handful of cars parked in front. They ordered drinks at the bar and chose a table in a far corner.

"To your successful show and the many that will doubtlessly follow," said Sabrina holding her drink out for a toast. Randall joined her, and they clinked their glasses together.

"I'm glad you came."

"I went back and forth, to be honest. I almost didn't."

"What changed your mind?"

Sabrina clicked her red nails on the side of her glass while she thought, "I guess I couldn't pass up the chance to see you in person. We've been talking so much online that I kind of felt like I already knew you, but meeting you in the flesh was different. It makes it more..."

"Real?" offered Randall.

"Yeah," she conceded.

"Well, I'm glad you decided to come out. I was afraid you would think I was creepy by inviting you the way I did."

"You surprised me that was for sure, but I think maybe I wanted you to figure it out. There was a part of me that was kind of hoping that you would."

"You know we keep talking about me and the show. I want to hear about you. Have you given any thought to what we talked about? You know about sticking with your art?"

"It's not that easy. My parents are pretty dead set against it and..."

"How old are you?"

"I beg your pardon?" she said in surprise.

"You never mentioned your age before I hope I'm not too impolite by asking?"

"No...I guess not...I'm twenty-five."

"You probably already know from my bio. on the band website, but I'm twenty-one."

"Yeah, So?"

"So we are both adults which I think makes us free to screw up our lives however we want."

"That may be true, but Jason thinks..."

"You know how many times I've seen you type that over the last six months? Jason thinks this and Jason thinks that...I don't want to know what Jason thinks, Sabrina. What do you think?"

Again, her nails clinked on her glass, "I think I want to change the subject."

Randall took a deep breath then reached across the table and took Sabrina's free hand in his watching her eyes lift from her glass to stare at him.

"I've seen what you can do with that brush and canvas. We are both artists, Sabrina, to not create would be a tragedy for us. Don't let anyone take that away from you."

"I love my fiancée," she said slowly pulling her hand away, "I owe it to him to consider his perspective."

"Is he considering yours? Because if he cared about you, I can't believe he would want you to walk away from your talent so easily."

"Jason lives in a different world. He thinks in terms of dollars and cents. It's a good future he is offering, and in his own way he cares about me."

"Sounds like a match made in a bank."

"What do you know about it? Aren't you the one that admits he can barely talk to a girl? Are you an authority on relationships now?" she said with some heat.

"I'm talking to you."

"Things between Jason and I are..."

"Complicated, I know. You know something else I don't think you love him the way you say you do."

"How can you profess to know how I feel?"

"Why have you been sexting with me online for the last few weeks. Is that how you show love for your fiancée?"

"I told you it was just a lark. A last bit of fun before I tie the knot that's all."

"I don't think someone who is about to head down the aisle would feel that way. I think you doubt this relationship more than you want to admit."

"Stop! I...This was a bad idea. We should go!"

Sabrina started to get up from the table, but Randall took her by the arm, and she stopped.

"I'm sorry. You're right that I have no business prying into your relationship. Who am I? Just some stranger you met on the Internet."