“No,” she said. “No problems at all.”
Then the hulking form of Bishop Towne was approaching. He paused and, ignoring Boling, grunted to Dance, “Guess this is it.” He took a deep breath. “Times like these’re when I really miss a drink. Guess I better go make a slew of people real unhappy.”
He ambled out onstage.
There was, of course, a resounding thunderclap of applause and shouts; this was Mr. Country himself greeting them, about to introduce his even more talented daughter.
He waved.
Pandemonium.
Dance and Boling walked into the wings to see better. As the spotlight found Towne, he looked diminished and old and in pain. He squinted slightly, hesitated and continued to an active microphone.
He scanned the crowd and seemed surprised there were so many people there, though Dance suspected that the savvy businessman would know the exact head count and box office receipts.
He rasped, “Good evening, y’all. I—” His voice caught and he started again. “I surely do ’preciate you coming out tonight.” Bishop, Dance had noted, had no Southern accent when he was engaged in regular conversation. Now, a twang of Appalachia tinted his words.
More whistles and shouts and applause.
“Listen up, listen up. Uhm, I have an announcement I’d like to make.”
There was a beat as the crowd grew silent, expecting something was wrong, perhaps related to Kayleigh’s kidnapping earlier in the day and the other events of the past week.
Collective dismay was starting to brew.
“Again, we ’preciate your being here and appreciate all the support you’ve shown to Kayleigh and the band and her family during this difficult time.”
He cleared his throat once more.
As he said, “I gotta tell you—” The applause began again and kept going and kept going, swelling, swelling, and became a force of its own. Within two or three seconds, the entire crowd was on its feet, howling, clapping, whistling.
Bishop was confused. What was this about?
Dance too didn’t have a clue, until she looked stage left and saw Kayleigh Towne walking forward, carrying a guitar and waving to the crowd.
She paused and blew them a kiss.
More unearthly sounds filled the concert hall, glow sticks waved back and forth, flashes from the prohibited cameras exploded like sunlight on choppy water.
Dance noticed that Suellyn and Mary-Gordon were now standing with Sheri Towne in the wings opposite, watching Kayleigh stride up to her father. They weren’t alone. Art Francesco, from Global Entertainment, was now with them and chatting warmly with Sheri and her stepdaughter.
Onstage, Bishop bent down, hugged his daughter and she kissed him on his cheek. Kayleigh lowered a second microphone to her mouth and waited until the crowd grew silent.
“Thank you all! Thank you! … My daddy was going to tell you we have a big surprise for you tonight. But I decided I couldn’t let him get away with hogging the spotlight, like he usually does.”
Huge laughter.
“Anyway, what we want to do tonight is open the show with something we haven’t done for years. A father-daughter duet.” A bit of South was in her own voice now.
More otherworldly applause.
She handed Bishop the guitar and said, “Y’all probably know my daddy’s a better picker than me so I’m going to let him have the git-fiddle and sing and I’m going to do a bit of harmony. Now, this’s a song that Daddy wrote and used to sing to me when I was a little girl. I think it was probably the first song I ever heard. It’s called ‘I Think You’re Going to Be a Lot Like Me.’”
A glance his way and he nodded, the faintest of smiles curling into his weathered face.
As the surge of applause and hoots settled, Bishop Towne swung the guitar strap over his broad shoulders, strummed to test the tuning and he and Kayleigh adjusted the microphones.
Then he looked behind him toward the band, now in position, noted that they were ready and turned his attention back to the thousands of expectant fans, silent as thought. He started tapping his foot, leaned forward and counted out into the microphone, “One … two … three … four …”
Your Shadow
1. You walk out onstage and sing folks your songs.
You make them all smile. What could go wrong?
But soon you discover the job takes its toll,
And everyone’s wanting a piece of your soul.
Chorus:
When life is too much, just remember,
When you’re down on your luck, just remember,
I’m as close as a shadow, wherever you go.
As bad as things get, you’ve got to know,
That I’m with you … always with you.
Your shadow.
2. You sit by the river, wondering what you got wrong,
How many chances you’ve missed all along.
Like your troubles had somehow turned you to stone
and the water was whispering, why don’t you come home?
Chorus.
3. One night there’s a call, and at first you don’t know
What the troopers are saying from the side of the road,
Then you see in an instant that your whole life has changed.
Everything gone, all the plans rearranged.
Chorus.
4. You can’t keep down smiles; happiness floats.
But trouble can find us in the heart of our homes.
Life never seems to go quite right,
You can’t watch your back from morning to night.
Chorus.
Repeat Chorus.
Is It Love, Is It Less?
1. A warm autumn night, the state fair in full swing,
We walked back to my place and sure enough one thing
Led to another and at dawn you were there.
Your breath on my shoulder, your hand in my hair.
2. Just a week later, it happened again,
I was sure that we’d move to lovers from friends,
But that time I woke to a half empty bed,
And at least two months passed till I saw you again.
Chorus:
Is it left, is it right? Is it east, is it west?
Is it day, is it night? Is it good or the best?
I’m looking for answers, I’m looking for clues.
There has to be something to tell me the truth