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“Really? Well, you’ve got my attention,” Kale replied, leaning in.
“I’ve asked Winter and Jesse to join me, and Tripp, I’m hoping you’ll join us too.”
“What, me, why, I’m not…” Tripp began to protest.
“Don’t give me that shit. You’re every bit the guitar player your brother is, and he didn’t want to compete with you. I doubt you wanted to compete with him either, was what he was coming over here to talk to you about. He and Jesse are on their way. I propose the four of us choose one of the Shriveled Rose songs we all know and play it together. Then we invite someone up onstage to join us, and if they are as badass as they claim to be, they’ll have earned that guitar.”
“I love it,” Terry said. Now he was swiping at stray tears while Tripp was opening and closing his mouth, trying to picture what Dez was proposing. It would be a complete deviation from the whole purpose of the shred-off, but what better way for the four of them to pay tribute to a band they all loved.
“I’m in,” Tripp said, excitement coursing through him as the words left his mouth. It would be raw, there would be little time for them to pick a song and run through a few quick and dirty rehearsals before they had to show up at the stage. But if they could do this, if they could pull it off, then the fans would be in for one hell of an unforgettable moment. It could even grow in time to be legendary.
“Good.”
“You all have our gratitude,” Terry said.
“I’d prefer to have something else,” Dez countered, to which Zakk nodded enthusiastically.
“What he’s trying to say,” Zakk said, grinning ear to ear, “is that we’d like it very much if you would consider doing us the honor of playing with us during our set tomorrow night. We know it wouldn’t be the same as playing the set you had planned for the festival, but all of us know at least a couple songs, and we’d be proud to perform them with you.”
“We couldn’t….it wouldn’t be right to take time out of your set….not when it’s so limited in a festival setting,” Kale sputtered.
“You wouldn’t be taking, we’d be giving,” Dez said. “In this case, giving back, which I would love the opportunity to do.”
“Please,” Zakk added.
“Would be fuckin’ sick,” Riley declared.
Kale and Terry shared a look, Kale giving a long sigh. “It would be a chance to say goodbye.”
“Better than ending with the burials of our friends,” Terry said, pinching the bridge of his nose. With the way he was turned, Tripp could see him struggling to control his emotions.
“I can’t promise we won’t wind up being a little shaky,” Kale said. “I don’t know if I can play those notes without remembering the last show or waving at them as they headed up in that chopper.”
“If you falter, we’ll be right beside you to play on,” Zakk sought to assure them.
“Then we’ll play,” Terry said, stretching his hand across the table to clasp Zakk’s.
“Thank you,” Dez replied.
Kale had finally let his hand fall away from the guitar case, but Dez’s still lingered there, like the tears that clung to his eyelashes. It dawned on Tripp then that there might have been another reason Dez had asked for backup at the shred-off. He knew they’d still play even if he was too overcome with emotion and memories to finish the song.
“How many hours do we have?” Tripp asked.
Zakk glanced down at his watch and groaned. “Less than three.”
“Then we need to get out of your way and let you prepare,” Kale said. “But we’ll be at the shred-off. We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter 34
Shred on my wayward sons
There was no sound in the world quite like the wail of an electric guitar. Just when you thought you’d heard every sound it could produce, someone wrung another from the strings. It had happened twice during the shred-off already, and each time had sent a shiver down Tripp’s spine.
Now he, Winter, Jesse and Dez stepped forward out of the crowded semi-circle they’d been waiting in. Each band had been allowed one entrant. Though some had opted not to send anyone to perform. There were plenty in attendance though, on the VIP side and in the crowd. Tripp spied a few members of up-and-coming bands who, after their performances at this festival, wouldn’t be able to blend with the fans like this again. Rocktoberfest had a way of making bands, though, in the aftermath, he’d read of a few breakups too, just like any other high-profile event. Stress could draw band members closer together, but each time Tripp glanced at his brother, he was also reminded of how easily it could tear them apart.
All thoughts fled his mind as Jesse began the intro of the song they’d chosen to perform together. Looking at the eyes in the crowd, some widened, some held looks of excitement, others of wonder. Dez slid into his role with a practiced ease, playing the beautiful gray and blue guitar the members of Shriveled Rose had entrusted to him. Tripp listened for his cue, his fingers knowing exactly what to do the moment he heard it. Winter would come in at the end, and Tripp knew why. Dez faltered, you’d have to be a serious musician to catch it, but it was there, and having heard the story behind the song from the men who’d written it, Tripp understood why.
The applause, once the song was over, was thunderous, building and crashing in waves. Dez waited for it to die down enough that he couldn’t have to holler into the mic to be heard over it.
