Street Find Ch. 03-04

Chapter 3 The Reluctant Singer

Fran spent a good part of Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday trying to teach me how to sing. It was far more difficult than I thought. We used a digital recorder and she and I sang into it and then played it back to listen. At first, I didn't recognize my own voice. That's not how I sounded, I thought. But after a while, I began to understand just what she was saying about my voice. By itself, it wasn't a pleasant sound. But in harmony with Fran, it sounded completely different. I was pretty certain that Fran had the talent to be a lead singer in her own right. She had the voice and the inflection, but she needed the confidence to project herself to the audience. That would only come with time and experience. For my part, I could see the possibility that I might be able to backup Fran if it was the right song.

There was a lot of touching and hands-on teaching involved in my learning to sing properly. When to breathe, how to hold my head, how to make eye contact with the audience; all these things came into the sessions. The main thing that Fran preached was to "feel the music" when I sang. It wasn't enough to know the words, I had to sell them. She would stand behind me as I sang and press on my diaphragm, trying to get me to use it to propel my voice. It wasn't easy and I didn't get it right away, but over time, it seemed to her that I was improving. At least, that's what she told me.

With constant pestering, she convinced me that we would prepare two songs to audition for Fox and see if he thought they might fit what he would be happy with. He was usually pretty easy to please, but I didn't want him to pretend it was great if it wasn't. I needed an honest opinion. Fran was committed to the plan, so I owed it to her to do the best I could. The two songs we chose were Don't Let Go and Need You Now. Fran would sing lead on both songs with my backup. We rehearsed the songs to point where we were sick of the sound of them.

When Fran decided to let Stan in on our little project, I called him and told him we wanted to try something out with him. We got together on Monday night, just the three of us at my apartment. I had set the synthesizer up to give us the most complete sound possible for just the two of us. Fran would play chords and I would play guitar. Fingers crossed, we told Stan what we were up to.

I saw a big grin on his face before he exclaimed, "I knew it. I knew you'd give it a try. Show me what you've got."

We did. Our guest sat and listened intently, never interrupting or showing anything but concentration on our effort. When we finished "Need You Now," he just sat there, blinking his eyes and shaking his head.

"Are you two kidding me? That's your first try? Shit, Ed, you two sound like old pros, and the sound is amazing. I'll tell you what I like best. You don't sound like anyone. Your sound is different. It's all yours. Just imagine what it might be like with some more instrumental backup. How long will it take you to put together six or eight songs we can add to our act? Maybe two or three each set. Damn, you two are going to change everything about our band."

"Whoa, whoa, Stan. First of all, I'm glad you liked the songs. That's a start. But we aren't going to be able to put together eight or nine songs right away. Why don't we agree to start with one each set? When we're ready with more, we'll audition them for you. Hell, you serve two different audiences. One side is contemporary and the other is country. We haven't even looked at what fits our style yet. I've got some work to do before we have a play list we can use. It's going to have to be a step at a time. Understand?"

"Sure ... sure, Ed. Don't mind me. I'm just so damned excited about what you've added to this group with Fran and yourself. If this works out, I can see us working the county fair circuit in the summer. But I'll try and be patient and let you get your play list developed. It'll be hard, but I'll try," he grinned.

"Thanks. Fran and I have some ideas of what might work. If you have any, pass them along and we'll see if they fit what we can do."

"Great! Thanks, Ed. I'm really excited about this."

"Yeah," I smiled, "I gathered that."

~*~

I bought a used HP desktop computer and an inkjet printer. I didn't need a lot of horsepower, just enough to get on the internet and print out some lyrics and scores for songs we were interested in. I can't count the number of hours Fran and I scoured the sources for possible additions to our repertoire. Occasionally we'd try a song out just sitting at the computer to see if we could manage it. It was a good way to weed out the ones that we wouldn't be able to handle.

It took a couple of weeks of trial and error, not to mention practice, to come up with three songs for our contemporary list and three more for our country list. Fran was great at making notes as we worked through the songs to see how we should present them. Most of them, Fran was the lead and I was the backup. Once in a while, she would have me take the lead and our roles would be reversed.

It was nearly three weeks before we were ready to let Stan know what we had developed. We called a meeting at the apartment and Stan agreed immediately. When he arrived, Bud Lydel was with him. Bud was lead guitar, and a really talented musician. I figured something was up, but I'd let Stan tell me in his own time.

"Okay, Stan," I began, "Here's what Fran and I worked out as a starting play list for both the country and contemporary side." I passed the printed sheet to him with a copy to Bud.

Stan was silent as he read the list over. We had a dozen songs listed, only four of which could be classified as country. I saw his head nodding as he looked the list over carefully.

"I like the list, Ed. Some of it can cross over too. Do you think you and Fran can handle all of these songs?"

"We've worked on how we see them working for us, Stan," Fran said, speaking up for the first time. "I'm confident Ed can handle his part and I'm okay with mine. We've tried not to reach too far. I won't pretend I can do a Dolly Parton song. My voice can't handle that. But I can cover the ones we listed."

Stan continued to review the list with Bud. When they finished, they both nodded, apparently signifying approval.

"I asked Bud to be here for another reason, Ed. We need someone to play bass on a regular basis. Thad fills that role now, but we use him on fiddle and sometimes mandolin as well. Bud feels Thad can teach you bass pretty easily, since you already play guitar. You'd be even more valuable, Ed, and we could do some switching to make sure we always have what we need. Hell, keyboards, guitar, bass ... damn near a human spare part," he laughed.

I thought about it for a few moments without responding. Learning another instrument is usually a major project, but if Thad said it was easier because I already played guitar, then I'd give it a shot.

"Okay, Stan. I'll try it. I hope Thad's a real patient guy, Bud. I'm no screaming hell on guitar, so four strings instead of six might be more my speed."

"Great. Once again, Ed, you are willing to come through for me. Thank you. I'll let you and Bud and Thad decide how to get together and see how it works out."

"I don't think you'll have too much trouble, Ed," Bud said. "You have a good understanding of the guitar and that makes the transition a lot easier."

"I hope you're right, Bud. Anyway, Fran and I plan to rehearse three songs for this weekend and you can decide when to insert them. I'm sure you'll want to hear us go through them, so I'd suggest we get to the club an hour early and you can decide where to insert them ... or not," I added.

What the hell have I gotten myself into, I wondered? I had no intention of becoming a full time musician. I was just a spare part, filling in for missing pieces a month or so ago, now I'm in deep. How smart is that?

Stan and Bud left, both happy with the meeting. Me ... I was still wondering what the hell I'd just agreed to. Bad enough I have to learn to sing, now I have to learn a new instrument. How did this happen?

I turned to Fran and saw her laughing quietly at me.

"What's so damn funny?" I snapped.

"Don't get mad at me, Ed. You're the one who doesn't know how to say no to anyone." She couldn't wipe the grin off her face. She was right, of course. I was guilty of always trying to please everyone. I wondered where that came from. Oh well, too late now. Nice goin' Ed.

~*~

To some degree, Bud was right. Learning to play a bass guitar wasn't as difficult as it seemed. I had to adjust my fingering and my muscle memory of where each note was. Thad felt I should choose a fret style instrument to begin with. It would make it easier for me to find the right note and not have to hunt for it. I took his advice. I borrowed a used Bronco from the store and spent my next two weeks trying to learn to play it with some confidence. Luckily, most parts for bass didn't require tricky fingering like I might encounter on a guitar. It was more like just playing chords on the piano.

So now I was versatile Ed Murchie, semi-professional musician, stumbling along without a plan, dragging Fran along with me. Oh boy, the blind leading the blind. How did I get myself into this mess, I asked myself constantly?

The truth was, I was enjoying it. More importantly, Fran was with me every step of the way. Better yet, she was in bed with me every night. Once I'd gotten over the "look but don't touch" rule, I relaxed and we both began to sleep better. It still drove me crazy that this woman was just out of reach. My erections were painful, and only relieved by hand in the privacy of the bathroom. I didn't know how much longer I could hold out without something happening to upset the apple cart.

What changed everything in our relationship was completely unpredictable. We were at the Riverside Club one Friday night, setting up for our three set performance. It would be my first time on bass and Fran would be on second keyboard in addition to her singing parts. We were almost a half-hour before our opening set when who should appear unannounced and definitely unwelcome but Crystal Shannon.

She stood with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes. "Well, well, well. Look who's here; Little Miss Fly-By-Night. You owe me some time, girl!" she snapped at Fran.

I saw the flustered look on Fran's face and knew I had to intervene. "She owes you nothing, Crystal. You voided her contract and if you'd like to discuss just how that came about, please join me in the office. I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of all these other people. That wouldn't be good for your career now, would it?"

I was surprised at how forceful I came across. I was angry with the woman, but I wasn't about to accuse her in public and embarrass and humiliate Fran at the same time. Better to do this in private.

"No. We'll settle it right here. She owes me," Crystal repeated.

"Crystal, do you really want to discuss your sexual habits ... specifically in Yakima with what looked to be a very young boy. Are you that desperate?"

I'd taken a wild stab in the dark at the age of the male in her room when Fran discovered her. It was a gamble, but I had a hunch that she was hunting young victims in a vain attempt to ward off the feeling of aging. The look on her face told me that I might have struck a nerve.

"There's an office in back we can use if you really want to continue this discussion," I said, trying to keep the upper hand.

Crystal stood there, staring at me, a look a hate unmistakable on her face. It made her look even older. It was a game of chicken. Which of us would cave first? It wasn't going to be me. I might be younger by quite a bit than this bitch, but I wasn't going to back down now. She didn't frighten me.

"I could sue you, you know," she said at last.

Somehow, her words lacked conviction. It was a bluff, I was sure. Sue for missing two concerts? Two concerts she didn't cancel? No ... stand firm, Ed. This is no time to cave.

"Go ahead, Crystal. Do you really want all your sexual preferences to be public? Do you want your predatory instincts to be the talk of the entertainment business? What might that do to your bookings?" I asked with a raised eyebrow in warning.

"You no good, cock sucking bastard son-of-a-bitch. I'll find a way to get even with you," she spat before turning to leave the office.

"Crystal!" I snapped, as she was about to leave. "I may be a son-of-a-bitch, but I don't suck cocks. That's your job."

She slammed the door and we could hear her stomping down the aisle toward the exit. I turned to Fran and saw a look to complete shock. I don't think she really expected this encounter to be this dramatic.

"What just happened?" Fran finally asked, trying to understand the last five minutes.

"I wouldn't worry about Crystal, Fran. I made an educated guess that she prefers young victims for her bed, and some of them might not be legal in every state. She knows full well that her career is winding down. She's doing everything she can to hold it together and anything that threatens whatever is left is going to be a real problem. She needed this to go away, and she wasn't left with any option but to bail out."

"How did you know all that?" Fran asked, still bewildered by Crystals attack and withdrawal.

"I didn't ... not right away. I guessed and I think I must have been close to the mark. She couldn't take the chance that I knew more than I was letting on. She had to end the confrontation in a fashion that would save face. Hence the unkind remarks toward me and my personal preferences. And by the way, as far as I know, I was the legitimate son of my parents," I grinned.

She came to me and wrapped her arms around me. "Thank you, Ed. You always seem to be here when I need you. Thank you."

"My pleasure, Fran."

~*~

I worried that the episode with Crystal would put Fran off her game, but that wasn't the case. She had recovered in plenty of time for her debut on stage and I was the more nervous as I thought about our first duet in front of an audience. We'd chosen Heartbeat Song from Kelly Clarkson, with Fran doing the lead vocals and Bud hard on the guitar segment. I was vocal backup and bass. It wasn't a complex song for us and I thought we sounded pretty good. The audience agreed and the smile on Stan's face was confirmation. We'd hit the right notes with the people that counted.

By the end of the night, we had established that we could do this. "This" being part of the main entertainment and not just a background part. In a moment of genius, Stan chose to put us last in the third set when we would do Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry. I guess that's why he's the leader. It was the perfect ending to a great evening. But the last thing we expected was calls for "encore." I didn't know what to do, but Bud stepped to me and said one word: "Dimming."

I knew what he meant. He was suggesting Dimming of the Day, an Appalachian style Bonnie Raitt song. We'd rehearsed this for a country audience, but we gave it a shot anyway. Bud was the lead-in with the guitar intro, and that got the rest of us on cue. This was Fran's song, and she gave it something extra. I took a step back to allow Bud to fill with his guitar and my vocals were just background. But whatever we did, the audience loved it.

When we walked off the stage, I think all seven of us were somewhat stunned. They'd never done an encore before. They'd never been asked for one. Something happened out there that night and I think we all realized it. However, I'm not sure we could put a name to it. Whatever it was, though, Stan was beside himself with glee. He hugged Fran, then he hugged me, then he was about to hug Bud when he realized the man still had his guitar around his neck. Oh well, it was the thought that counted.

It was one o'clock in the morning when we got home and we were still wide awake. The adrenalin rush was still flowing through my veins. Would it be like this every night? Probably not, but it was nice while it lasted. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be asleep right away. Fran was showing signs that she was pretty hyped as well.

We both showered to get the sweat off our bodies before heading to bed. Fran was done first and a few minutes later, I joined her in our bed. I tuned the light out and within seconds, a very naked and sexy woman was crawling on top of me. Equally quickly, I was erect and now I was faced with a dilemma.

"God, Ed, I'm so horny I can hardly stand it. That was the most amazing few hours I've ever experienced. The audience loved us. They really loved us," she gushed.

"Yeah ... it was amazing. But about your nightwear," I tried.

"What nightwear? I'm not wearing any. I decided to find out just what all the fuss is about. I'm definitely ready. If you pull out, you won't need to worry. Make love to me, Ed. Please, I want you to."

"Are you sure this isn't just the excitement of our performance going well?" I asked, worried that this was a reckless decision that she might regret later.

"Ed ... I've told you before ... I trust you. I know you won't hurt me and I'm sure this is what I want. I love you, Ed. You are a great man and you've given me so much without asking for anything in return. Well ... I want to reward you for that. Please, Ed, please."

There was no turning back now. I worried how this might turn out and that it might ruin the relationship we had carefully forged. But, Fran was adamant.

I began to kiss my way down her body, spending some time on her modest breasts. Her nipples were sensitive and she reacted to my nibbles and tweaks. I moved further down until I was at her lightly-haired mons. I pushed her legs apart and moved between them, kissing her inner thighs before moving to her center. She was moaning softly as I continued with my foreplay. She gave a start when the tip of my tongue probed inside her outer lips, then another twitch when it touched her clit. She was responded as I'd hoped she would.

Her hands were on the back of my head while I continue to pay homage to her sex. Her hips rose in little bursts of pleasure. But not too much later, she made it known she wanted me to complete our union. I moved up, uncertain what to expect when I tried to enter her. She provided me with help as she took my erection and guided where she wanted it. I expected resistance, but felt none. Perhaps she had already punctured her hymen. I began to slowly enter and she offered no resistance.

Once I was confident that she was comfortable, I began to move. Fran didn't react in any particular fashion to my stroke so I increased my pace. I was gazing at her face and she showed no signs of distress, but also little sign of arousal. I continued at the constant pace I had set for a couple of minutes. Still, I was getting little response from her. Now I was concerned that I was going to finish long before she would. That would be a disappointment for both of us.

I held on as long as I could. "Fran, I'm going to come. I can't continue," I warned her, completely forgetting my promise to pull out.

"It's alright, Ed. Go ahead. I'm fine," she smiled.

I finished with a feeling of failure, disappointment, and now, fear. Not just for myself, but for Fran. Had I done something incredibly selfish? Had I impregnated her? Worse, I felt badly because it appeared that Fran got very little from our joining.

"I'm sorry, Fran. I wanted to pull out, I really did. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Ed. It isn't my fertile time. Besides, you weren't the problem, it was me. I just couldn't get into it. I tried. You were very gentle and loving, but it just wasn't there for me. I guess it was a bad idea and I'm sorry if I've hurt you and damaged how you feel about me."