pzb.drawingblood-第57节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　〃And　we　can　get　stoned　backstage；〃　said　Calvin；　ing　in。　Zach　wondered　if　he　had　been　listening　at　the　door。　Calvin　was　wearing　a　pair　of　black　cotton　leggings　and　a　skimpy　rag　that　might　once　have　been　a　T…shirt：　nearly　the　same　outfit　Zach　had　on；　but　tighter　and　rattier。　Zach　saw　that　one　of　his　nipples　was　pierced　with　a　silver　ring。　Calvin　beamed　at　Zach　and　offered　him　a　slender　black　object。　An　eyeliner　pencil。
　　〃Want　some？〃
　　Slinking　about　the　stage；　his　eyes　smeared　with　wanton　kohl　。　。　。　〃May　I？〃
　　Calvin　pressed　the　pencil　into　Zach's　hand　and　turned　away；　flexing　his　fingers。　He　seemed　to　have　toned　his　act　down　a　little。　In　fact　the　whole　atmosphere　backstage　had　suddenly　bee　brisk；　excited　but　efficient；　these　guys　were　ready　to　have　fun；　but　they　also　had　a　job　to　do。　Terry　and　R。J。　were　standing；　stretching。　Zach　felt　the　first　flicker　of　nervousness　like　a　wing　brushing　the　inside　of　his　stomach。　He　peered　into　the　tiny　lightless　mirror　Kinsey　had　thoughtfully　provided　and　began　outlining　his　eyes　in　black。
　　Trevor　watched　him　strangely。　〃What　are　you　doing？〃
　　〃Putting　on　makeup。〃　Zach　finished；　smudged　the　corners　a　bit；　then　looked　up　at　Trevor。　〃Do　you　like　it？〃
　　〃I　think　I　better　go　back　into　the　club。〃
　　〃Okay。　Why？〃
　　Trevor　leaned　in　close。　〃Because　if　I　stay　here；〃　he　whispered　in　Zach's　ear；　〃I'm　going　to　fuck　you　right　in　front　of　the　band。〃
　　Great：　now　he　was　going　on　stage　with　a　boner。　〃Wait　till　after　the　show；〃　he　whispered　back。　〃I'll　ruin　you　for　life。〃
　　〃Promise？〃
　　〃Mmmmm。〃　Trevor's　lips　covered　his；　Trevor's　arms　slid　around　him　and　hugged　him　tight。　Then　Trevor　looked　back　at　the　other　musicians。　〃I　hope　you　have　a　good　show；〃　he　said。　They　all　realized　they　had　been　staring；　smiled　a　little　too　widely　and　offered　a　ragged　chorus　of　thanks。
　　The　backstage　door　swung　shut　and　Trevor　was　gone　into　the　crowd。　Terry　glanced　at　the　others。　〃Ready？〃
　　A　round　of　nods。　A　moment　of　silence。　Then　Terry　spoke　three　more　of　rock　and　roll's　talismanic　words：
　　〃Let's　do　it。〃
　　
　　Trevor　was　standing　at　the　very　center　of　the　dance　floor　when　Gumbo　hit　the　stage。　He　felt　the　crowd　pushing　him　forward；　let　himself　surge　closer　to　Zach。
　　Zach　was　already　smiling　at　the　audience　as　if　he　wanted　to　eat　it　alive。　Calvin　and　R。J。　picked　up　their　guitars；　slung　the　brightly　colored　hippie…weave　straps　over　their　shoulders。　Terry　sat　down；　leaned　forward；　and　spoke　hoarsely　into　the　small　mike　mounted　on　his　drum　set。
　　〃Howdy！　We're　Gumbo！〃　A　spatter　of　whistles　and　applause。　〃Thanks。　You'll　notice　that　tonight　we're　four　instead　of　three。　Say　hello　to　DARIO；　our　special　guest　vocalist　appearing　in　a　limited　engagement　of　one　。　。　。　night　。　。　。　only！〃　A　drumstick　kissed　the　edge　of　a　cymbal。　〃DARIO！　A　genu…wine　Cajun　maniac　straight　from　New　OrLEEENS！〃
　　Over　the　forest　of　waving；　fluttering　hands　thrust　up　by　the　crowd；　Trevor　distinctly　saw　Zach　mouth　the　word　Shit。　But　he　recovered　fast　and　ripped　the　microphone　off　its　stand　as　Terry　gave　the　three…beat　intro　to　the　first　song。　Calvin　unleashed　a　fast…and…dirty　flood　of　guitar　noise；　and　R。J。　backed　him　with　a　bass　line　that　made　Trevor　think　of　wheels　blasting　down　an　open　highway。　Zach　stood　with　the　mike　clutched　to　his　chest；　arched　his　back　and　speared　the　audience　with　his　glittering　eyes。
　　Trevor　thought　Zach　was　looking　straight　at　him　as　he　began　to　sing。
　　In　fact；　Zach　had　left　his　glasses　in　the　dressing　room　and　couldn't　see　much　beyond　the　first　four　rows　of　people。　But　he　could　feel　Trevor　in　the　crowd；　could　feel　a　long　invisible　strand　of　electricity　flowing　between　them；　tapping　into　the　web　that　connected　Zach　with　Terry；　R。J。；　and　Calvin；　sending　tendrils　through　the　audience　and　infecting　them　as　well。　It　was　a　silver…blue　energy；　as　galvanizing　as　a　slug　of　moonshine；　as　effervescent　as　a　champagne　chaser。
　　He　opened　his　mouth　and　felt　the　energy　e　blazing　up　his　spine　as　he　let　the　words　fly。　He　barely　knew　what　he　was　singing；　his　photographic　memory　gave　him　back　the　lyrics　and　his　reptile　brain　translated　them　into　pure　emotion　without　ever　processing　their　meaning。　He　twisted　the　syllables；　stretched　the　long　sounds；　pushed　his　voice　way　down　deep　to　match　the　bass；　then　sang　with　the　guitar；　high　and　hoarse　and　clear。
　　The　crowd　pushed　right　up　to　the　stage。　A　few　kids　up　front　were　already　dancing。　Zach　let　their　movements　tug　at　him；　flow　over　him。　Soon　he　was　dancing　harder　than　any　of　them；　remembering　to　breathe；　keeping　his　voice　strong；　letting　the　music　control　him。
　　The　young　upturned　faces　were　sweaty；　eyes　half…closed；　lips　parted　as　if　in　ecstasy。　This　was　like　making　love　to　an　enormous　roomful　of　people　all　at　once；　like　taking　control　of　all　their　pleasure　centers　and　squeezing　hard。　It　was　his　best　fantasy　gone　one　better。　No　one　was　jealous。　Everyone　was　getting　off；　and　getting　him　off。　And　somewhere　right　in　the　middle　of　it　was　his　one　true　love。
　　〃I　gotta　bad　reaaaaction；〃　he　moaned；　lips　brushing　the　mike；　letting　his　voice　crack　a　little；　thinking　of　Billie　Holiday。　〃Gotta　bad　reaction　to　yoooou　。　。　。　gotta　suck　your　poison　every　night；　gotta　swallow　too　。　。　。〃　He　was　improvising　on　the　lyrics　now　as　the　song　ended。　Calvin　caught　his　eye　and　gave　him　a　very　dark　smile。
　　The　next　number　on　the　set　list　read　simply　〃FUNKY　BLUESJAM。〃　Terry　had　told　him　to　vamp　around；　make　up　his　own　lyrics　if　he　wanted。　His　shirt　was　already　soaked。　He　peeled　it　off　as　the　band　eased　into　a　slow；　sexy　groove。　The　crowd　whistled　and　hooted。　Zach　closed　his　eyes　and　tilted　his　head　back　and　just　stood　swaying　at　center　stage　for　a　long　moment；　leggings　riding　low　on　his　hips；　lights　playing　over　the　sweat　on　his　face　and　chest　and　rib　cage。　Me　felt　them　looking　at　him　and　he　let　them　look。
　　Slowly　he　brought　the　mike　up　and　started　singing　again；　letting　his　voice　skitter　and　scat　over　the　music；　only　gradually　beginning　to　form　whole　words　and　lines。　〃Where　the　bars　never　close　。　。　。　And　the　neon　screams　。　。　。　And　the　smell　of　whiskey　gets　in　your　dreams　。　。　。〃
　　A　boy　was　dancing　front　and　center；　head　thrown　back　in　abandon；　red…gold　hair　shaved　close　on　the　sides　and　spiked　with　sweat；　pale　skin　flushed。　His　eyes　met　Zach's　and　held　them；　almost　defiant。　Zach　knew　that　look；　had　seen　it　plenty　of　times　in　the　Quarter。　It　said；　I　am　as　beautiful　as　you；　and　I　know　it。　The　boy　wore　a　thin　white　T…shirt　and　loose；　low…slung　faded　jeans。　The　edge　of　the　shirt　pulled　up　as　he　danced；　revealing　a　maddening　stretch　of　flat　hairless　belly；　a　heartbreaking　curve　of　hipbone。
　　〃Where　the　gutters　run　red　by　the　break　of　dawn　。　。　。　And　the　boys　get　paler　as　the　night　wears　on　。　。　。〃
　　Suddenly　he　saw　Trevor　in　the　crowd；　not　dancing；　just　standing　still　in　the　sea　of　bodies；　letting　himself　be　jostled；　gazing　up　at　Zach。　His　face　was　intent；　but　calm；　he　was　taking　all　this　in　now　to　be　remembered　and　maybe　drawn　later。　Zach　lost　the　thread　of　his　lyrics；　wailed　and　sobbed　wordlessly　for　a　while。　He　felt　like　a　torch　singer　in　some　smoky　little　dive　in　1929；　high　on　Prohibition　liquor　and　the　reefers　they　were　rolling　backstage。
　　He　gave　Trevor　his　most　smoldering　smile；　put　the　mike　back　on　the　stand　and　ran　his　hands　over　his　face；　through　his　hair。　Trevor　smiled　back　a　little　uneasily；　as　if　afraid　people　would　notice　where　Zach　was　looking。　But　his　gaze　never　wavered。　He　had　to　take　everything　in。　The　artist　as　eyeball；　thought　Zach：　lidless；　as　raw　to　the　touch　as　an　exposed　nerve；　but　seeing　and　processing　all。
　　The　next　couple　of　songs　were　Gumbo　standards　with　a　country…Cajun　flavor。　Zach　whined　his　way　through　them　thinking　of　Hank　and　Patsy　and　Clifton　Chenier；　wishing　he　had　a　bottle　of　bourbon；　a　pair　of　black　steel…toed　cowboy　boots；　and　a　bushel　of　tabasco　peppers。　Terry　whaled　his　skins　without　mercy；　and　R。J。　moved　his　feet　for　the　first　time　that　evening。　Zach　could　tell　this　was　the　stuff　they　really　loved。　They　played　the　blues　fine；　but　they　were　country　boys。
　　Next　came　another　jam；　R。J。　and　Calvin　getting　into　a　riff　that　was　like　something　out　of　an　old　spy　movie；　sinister　and　slinky；　octopussy；　Terry　laughing　behind　the　drums；　striking　up　a　strip…club　beat。　Zach　hung　on　the　microphone；　tilted　his　face　to　the　lights　and　closed　his　eyes。　The　world　was　red　and　gold；　sweat　and　smoke；　pain　and　joyThe　first　set　was　over　too　soon。　Zach　stared　over　at　the　crowd；　unwilling　to　turn　them　loose　even　for　twenty　minutes。　Trevor　caught　his　eye　and　pointed　toward　the　bar。　Zach　held　up　his　open　hand…Be　there　in　five…and　reluctantly　left　the　stage。
　　Entering　the　backstage　room　was　like　walking　into　a　sauna。　The　other　three　musicians　were　as　sweaty　as　Zach；　and　as　buzzed。　The　little　cubicle　was　saturated　with　their　energy。　The　smell　was　like　an　electrical　storm　in　a　locker　room。
　　Terry　slung　an　arm　around　him。　〃Good　show。　Man；　you　really　know　how　to　work　a　crowd。〃
　　〃It　feels　great。〃
　　〃You're　a　natural；〃　R。J。　told　him。　〃Terry　could　sing　'Bad　Reaction'　for　the　rest　of　his　life　and　never　get　'em　riled　up　like　that。〃
　　〃Aw；　fuck　you；〃　said　Terry。　〃I'm　just　a　drummer　working　overtime。　Zach's　a　singer。〃
　　B