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Kaira laughed.
“Sounds good to me,” said Cotton. “Any ideas, Kaira?”
“You want to try ‘Piece of My Heart’?” Kaira suggested. She had been listening to the Janis Joplin CD and it was her favorite song.
“Let’s do it,” said Tim B.
The place went crazy when they stepped back out onstage.
“We’ve played every song we know,” Kaira told the raucous crowd. “So now we’re going to play one we don’t know!”
It just might have been the worst performance ever of that song. Kaira had thought she knew the words, but she kept skipping around to different parts of the song and repeating parts she’d already done as the band struggled to keep up with her.
But nobody cared. It was pure fun, and the audience was having fun right along with them. It was the way rock ’n’ roll was meant to be.
Even the cutesy-dootsy backup singers, two of whom had already changed back into jeans, came out, and were screaming at the top of their lungs.
“TAKE IT!”
“Take another little piece
of my heart now, baby . . .”
The band tried to improvise a big finish, but in the end, the song just fizzled out.
“God, that was awful!” Kaira said with a laugh amid the thunder of applause, and then she and the band left the stage for good.
17
As an army of workers cleared the stage, unhooking power cords, removing instruments and equipment, Armpit and Ginny were unsure of what they were supposed to do or where they were supposed to go. When they stood up their chairs were taken away. They made sure to hold on to their souvenir cups.
There was no way down except through backstage. Besides, they had to get their regular shirts back from whoever had them. So, holding on to each other, they headed back through the curtain.
It wasn’t as crowded as earlier, but the people who were there were in constant motion. Someone shouted, “Watch your back!” as a cart full of electronic equipment was wheeled past and out to a loading dock.
“Ginny!”
It was David, the red-bearded guy wearing the vest and no shirt. “Kaira’s looking for you. Here, follow me.”
Armpit followed too, and David didn’t tell him not to. He led them along a very narrow passageway. As they turned the corner they saw and heard Kaira arguing with a large, athletic-looking black man, while Kaira’s bodyguard stood off to the side.
“. . . could have been your best performance,” the man was saying, “but you know what the critics are going to write? ‘She’s no Janis Joplin.’ All they’re going to talk about is how you butchered her classic song!”
“We were having fun! Rock ’n’ roll is supposed to be spontaneous!”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Cotton.”
“Cotton,” the man repeated. He glanced at Armpit and Ginny. “This area is off limits,” he said.
“They’re my friends!” said Kaira. “I invited them.”
The man scowled, then turned and walked away.
“Sorry about that,” Kaira said. “So, you guys want some ice cream?”
“Yes,” said Ginny.
