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Ten
The closer and closer we got to the venue, the more my palms started to sweat. My stomach and intestines made themselves known with every bump, turn, and stop of the bus. I couldn’t focus my eyes on any one thing; the world passed by in a soup of color.
“Nervous?” Andrew folded his long legs into the booth, sitting closer than I’ve ever sat with anyone except my fiancé.
“Personal space isn’t a thing with you, is it?” I tried to push him out of the booth, with no luck. “For someone who used to be so willowy, you’re awfully substantial now.”
“Depressive overeating will do that to you,” he said. “But quit avoiding my questions.”
“I’m not nervous,” I said as I counted my SD cards once, twice, a third time without really grasping how many I had. I reached for my camera lens and attempted to put it on the body of my camera with shaking hands. I sighed.
Andrew gently took each piece out of my hands and put it on the table. “Ace, this is your dream job. This is what you were meant to do.”
“Exactly.” I fiddled with my engagement ring. “What if I’m not as good as I think I am? What if they take one look at my photos and decide they’ve made a mistake?”
“They’ve seen your work already. They know they haven’t made a mistake.”
“But what if these photos aren’t as good as the ones on my site?”
“Then take better ones.”
“What if the edits aren’t good enough?”
Andrew turned so that we were face to face. “I don’t think you’re worried about your photos at all. I think you’re worried about you.”
I frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“Do you feel that you’re good enough?” His eyes searched mine. “Do you believe that you can do this?”
I sighed and looked at the table of scattered camera items. “Yes?”
“Is that a question or an answer?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. I took a deep breath and let it out in one large gust. “Yes, I believe that I can do this.”
“Okay good,” he said. He grinned. “Because we’re here.”
As the band set up their equipment in the café, I set up my equipment on the bus.
Just focus on what’s right in front of you. Forget about what has passed, or what is to come. All that matters is this moment.I closed my eyes and breathed deep through my nose, out through my mouth, just like all of those years ago when Dante coached me. I could see his cat-shaped face in my mind, made all the narrower from his sickness. His eyes, like mine, were framed in long, thick lashes, the irises almost black. His easy grin filled my mind, and I both smiled and felt tears welling at the memory. Dante. I still can’t believe you’re gone.
“Alright y’all, let’s do this!” Yasmine called onto the bus. Andrew and I rose from our seats, and I grabbed my camera and flash.
Yasmine stopped short of the back entrance to the café. The rest of the band was already there in a semi-circle. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Pre-gig ritual,” Jean Lee explained in a whisper. “We never start a gig without it.”
“Okay, mi gente,” Yasmine said to all of us. “It’s our first gig of the tour.” Quiet cheers went up all around. “I am so proud of all of you for being here, y estoymuy emocionada about our two new people. Let’s give them a round of applause for putting up with our crazy asses so far.” More cheers and pats on the back went to me and Andrew.
“Y’all know what it took to get here,” Yasmine continued. “We’ve been through a lot together, but still, we have persisted. There have been many tragedies in our midst, but you all have shown up, spirit intact, chins up. We may be an all-black rock band, and one of the only of our kind, but that has never stopped any of you from pursuing our collective dream: to tour the nation.
“I want to close in prayer.” My eyebrows shot up in surprise, and Yasmine nodded at me. “Yes, manita, we are a prayerful band. You don’t have to participate; you can just stand there if you need to. But we’re gonna pray to God, who has watched over this band from Day 1. I’ll start us off.” She linked hands with Jean Lee and Philip; Andrew and Danny grabbed my hands. For a moment, I marveled at how perfectly my hand fit into Andrew’s, how right it felt to have it there. As if he sensed I was looking at him, Andrew gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Butterflies, like soft kisses, rustled in my stomach.
“Padre, que siempre está con nosotros, we thank you. You have always ordered our steps, always protected the very core of each and every one of us. You are our guiding body, the way, the truth, and the light. Nothing that exists can exist without You.
“We come to You today with humble hearts and spirits. We need Your divine intervention, Padre. Help us to bring the music to the people in the best way we know how. Let them see You through our music. Help them to see Your mercy and grace through us.”
There was a second of silence before Jean Lee picked it up. “God, be our Heavenly protector. Help me to do my very best on the beats. Amen.”
