The band was playing so hard that Jesse broke a bass string. That had never happened to him before. Bass strings don’t break as easily as guitar strings. He replaced the A string. Two songs later, his D string broke. The band kept playing while Jesse did his second string change. No one seemed to notice the bass had dropped out for two songs. Rick covered the bass line pretty well with his left hand on the organ.
The dancing area became so covered in beer that drunken revelers were diving onto the frothy wooden floor to see how far they could slide on their stomachs. The show reached an emotional conclusion about 1 a.m. The dance hall was flashing the lights as the crowd gathered close and gave the band a prolonged, good night cheer.
It took a while to clear out all the drunks. As the band began to pack up its gear, Jesse had a meeting with Tim’s sister, Kate, who had helped produce and promote the party. She reported the band took in $2,565 at the door but spent $1,850 on the beer. After the beer bill and cost for the hall and posters and security, the band made a disappointing $115.
Rene immediately turned on Jesse. “I told you the free beer was a bad idea. That was our beer they were throwing around and sliding through. I knew this wasn’t working out.” He stormed back to his drum kit.
“What’s wrong with Rene?” Butch asked as Jesse came back to the bandstand.
Jesse hung his head. “We didn’t make any money.”
Butch was shocked. “What? We packed the place. Everybody paid at the door, didn’t they?”
“The beer cost us almost two grand,” Jesse said as he shook his head and lowered it.
Tim’s eyes and mouth opened wide in disbelief. “No way.”
“Ask your sister, Kate,” Jesse said to Tim. “She wouldn’t lie to us.”
Dale covered his face with his hands and then pulled them away. “People did get drunk as hell.”
“I didn’t think beer by the keg would cost that much,” Jesse said.
“But you didn’t check, did you?” Rene said as he came back into the conversation in a threatening fashion.
“Did you check, Rene?” Jesse shot back.
Rene was so mad his face was turning red. He took a step toward Jesse. “No, I didn’t. As usual, this was all your idea. This party was about as hair-brained as the whole trip. We should let you go to Michigan on your own if you absolutely have to get married up there.”
Dale stepped between Rene and Jesse. “Come on Rene. We just had one of the greatest shows of our lives.”
“It’s not a great show if the band doesn’t make any money.” Rene stomped off in a huff, slipped on the wet floor and fell into a puddle of free beer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE WEDDING
Things didn’t get any better between Jesse and Rene as the band made its way to Pentwater, Michigan, for the wedding. Rene had to have his father loan the band four hundred dollars for travel expenses. That four hundred could have come from the band account had Jesse not incurred his unexpected jail expense. Jesse never considered asking his father for financial support, although it would have been forthcoming without question. He needed to prove to his father that he could make it in the music business on his own.
“Why does this band always have to be about you, Jesse?” Rene asked as the two of them looked out on the relentless waves of Lake Michigan.
Jesse was getting sick of Rene’s constant criticism. “It’s not about me. It’s about us. And, in case you forgot, we’re going into the studio in Dallas to make a demo tape and get a record deal.”
Rene was not about to be placated. “I don’t see us in Dallas. I see us blindly following you all the way to Michigan so you can get married. I see this band going broke because of you.”
“Rene, you’re on a beautiful beach, you’ve got a great band. The sunset is going to be perfect. Everybody’s having fun except for you. Polly is having a good time being here. Does it ever occur to you that the only real problem is you?”
“I can’t believe I let you get us into this mess,” Rene said.
That was the last straw for Jesse. “This mess is my wedding. If you came all the way up here to make my life miserable, you can pack up right now and head back to Louisiana.”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had in a long time,” Rene said as he turned away from Jesse. He walked down to the road like someone who was never coming back.
Amy overheard the argument and came up the dune to Jesse’s side. She didn’t say a word as she took his hand. The two of them gazed onto the vast beauty of the sun drenched waves. Lake Michigan looked awesome as any ocean. Not being able to see the other side made them immortal for the moment.
“Everybody’s got a cabin?” Jesse asked after a long, contemplative silence.
Amy struggled to keep her voice even and calm. “Terri says her cabin isn’t as nice as Loretta’s. Rick and Dale don’t like being so far from the lake. Your parents are worried about the weather. Most of the guests don’t have any place to stay but the beach. I can’t get hold of the caterer. Parking is going to be a huge problem. The older guests are complaining about having to climb a mountainous sand dune to see the wedding. Everybody seems crabby as hell. Other than that, everything’s fine.”
Jesse turned and took both her hands in his. They looked into each other’s eyes, sparkling like water in the sun. It was a serene moment. Amy was the first to giggle. Jesse joined her as they held each other and laughed out loud at the wonderful absurdity of their situation.
Jesse remained optimistic. “At least the two of us can be happy. Tomorrow is our big day. We’re going to go up there on top of that giant sand dune and make all our friends climb up and help us get married.”
“I could not be more happy,” Amy said with tears welling in her eyes. “Look at that lake. It’s happy for us. It knows everything is going to work out better than ever.”
“Yes, it does. And so do I.” Jesse took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly.
“I wonder what the Voodoo voice thinks about the wedding?” Amy asked as she and Jesse took a breath. “You haven’t mentioned the voice in quite some time.”
Jesse didn’t respond as he stared at the expansive horizon of the lake. Amy decided not to push the issue and joined Jesse’s silent reverie.
He finally put his thoughts into words. “You know, I haven’t heard the voice in some time, but I’m listening for it all the time. I think it might be more important to listen for it than to actually hear it.”
Amy kissed his ear. “What do you mean?”
Jesse backed off the ear tickle. “Listening for the voice is a great thing to do. Most of the time we only listen to our own, never-ending stream of thoughts. By listening for something else, we break free. We recognize the universe is a lot bigger and better than our little selves.”
“What do you hear when you listen?”
Jesse looked her in the eyes. “It’s more of a feeling than something you actually hear with your ears. It’s like musicians, listening for the muse. We don’t actually hear music. We get a feeling about what kind of music we need to make.”
Amy thought about that for a long time as they watched the sun begin to sink toward the water. “I love you, Jesse. And, believe it or not, I get what you’re trying to say about listening for the voice, or the muse, or the universe.”
“Thank you baby. I know you’re with me.”
Amy kissed him hard on the neck, then backed off into a face to face. “What I don’t understand is why the voice won’t talk to you on a regular basis. It seems like no matter how much you listen for it, it only comes to you when it’s good and ready.”
Jesse shuffled his feet in the sand. “You know, I wonder about that a lot. And I try to see patterns in what the voice has said to me. It seems to be warning me away from the music business. It warned us that Pete was a slaveholder and it called Tony a thief.”
“Anything else?”
Jesse smiled. He knew what she was after. “You know the voice h
as always urged me to team up with you.”
“Team up?” She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes.
Jesse grabbed her by both shoulders. “No. Marry you. Make you my wife. Make you the happiest woman in the world so we can live happily after.”
Amy bounced up and down on her toes. “That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”
Jesse returned to the reality of the unhappy drummer. “I hope Rene isn’t packing up to go home to Louisiana.”
Amy thought for a moment before responding. “He’s not a happy camper. But he won’t leave. We’ve seen him leave in a huff before. It’s nothing new. I wish I’d seen him fall in the beer at the barn party.”
Jesse and Amy were chuckling at the thought when they both had to shout for joy. It was Casey, hiking up the dune to surprise them for sunset. He had driven, non–stop, from law school in New Orleans to Pentwater, Michigan, for the wedding. He yelled out greetings and a reminder. “Don’t forget it was me who paid Jesse’s airfare so he could fly to Indiana and propose to you.”
Amy ran into his arms. “And for that, my sweet Casey, I will be forever grateful. We’re so happy you made it. And look, you’re right on time for the pre-wedding beach party.”
Casey rubbed his hands together. “In that case, it’s time to build the pre-wedding beach fire. All our friends are here or on the way. It’s time to party like sand fleas.”
Jesse and Casey built a ten-foot bonfire near the water’s edge. They started with a shallow hole in the sand and a large circle of logs and filled the circle with dry grass and newspapers and small branches. On top they built a pyramid out of chopped wood. Jesse knew the fire would leap into the night with one match. The sun went down until it was on that magical place where the water meets the sky. Oranges and reds painted the horizon. The sun changed shape as it continued to sink. It became an egg, then a UFO and then a golden pancake.
“It’s a sizzler,” Casey yelled triumphantly as the sun appeared to sink into the water with a steaming fizz.
Jesse’s mother led the party of family and friends in her traditional sunset rendition of the camp song, “Day Is Done.” Everybody held hands around the unlit fire. Once the song was completed, Jesse held up a box of wooden matches. “Here it is, people. I’m going to use one of these matches, and only one, to turn this pile of wood into a living, breathing symbol of my love for Amy.”
He struck the match and held it to the kindling. The fire started slowly at first but soon roared into the night, so big it reminded Jesse of the blaze at the Safari Club. Everybody danced around the fire until it got so hot they had to back away. Butch and Jesse broke out acoustic guitars and Tim got his fiddle going. Several guests had guitars and percussion instruments. The sing-a-long was enthusiastic and mostly harmonious.
Once the fireside jam got to “The Weight” by The Band, everybody jumped in on the chorus and held out the three-level vocal part like it had a life of its own. As the song ended, the impromptu band gave itself a rousing round of cheering applause.
The music sounded perfect around the crackling fire. The Lake Michigan waves rolled in a steady rhythm. A marijuana haze wafted in the gentle breeze as the beer and wine flowed. Jesse felt like the luckiest man in the world. By the end of the party, even people who didn’t know each other were carrying on like old friends. There was some skinny-dipping but no naked fire jumping. The fire was too big and Jesse’s mother would not have approved.
Rene and Polly did not attend the beach fire. Nobody had seen them all night. “He’s been in a bitchy mood ever since he bailed you out of jail,” Dale said to Jesse.
Tim came up to Jesse. “You don’t think he’d go home the night before the wedding, do you?”
Rick overheard the question. “I wouldn’t put it past him. This whole wedding tour has been driving him crazy. He might leave just to protest us not getting paid for playing the wedding. And, you know what? He does have a point. Actually, each of us should be getting a per diem.”
“What’s that?” Tim asked.
“It’s a daily allowance,” Rick said.
Tim thought about the concept briefly. “Where would that money come from? Who would pay it?”
“The record company pays it when you’re on tour,” Rick said.
Tim looked at Rick like he was joking. “You mean the record company we don’t have?”
“Exactly,” Rick said.
Amy broke into the conversation to get back to the Rene issue. “Are he and Polly getting along?”
Jesse was staring into the fire and worrying about Rene. He was barely hearing Amy’s question about Rene and Polly when he heard the Voodoo voice, loud and clear. There was no mistaking the deep, African vocal tone.
“The drummer must die.”
Jesse leaped to his feet in surprise at the ominous proclamation. He looked around anxiously to see if anybody else had heard what sounded loud as thunder. No one else heard it.
It was the kind of party where nobody was surprised to see somebody leaping to his feet. Jesse made a few dance moves to cover his shock and surprise. How could people not hear what sounded so loud to him? He walked away from the fire and into the darkness like he was going to take a piss. Hearing the voice talk in such a murderous tone had shaken him. He’d never heard it like that. He walked down the beach until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The message kept ringing in his mind.
“The drummer must die.”
Jesse tried to review what the voice had told him previously. It had evolved over time. At first, it simply introduced itself. Next, it told him to keep running. Then it saved him from the Safari Club fire by telling him to knock down the walls. It told him not to let Amy go during the hurricane at the Seashell Club. It revealed itself to Tim to warn against Pete, the short-time band manager, being a slave owner. It turned off the light in Rose’s bedroom to stop Jesse from cheating on Amy. It warned him the record company agent from Los Angeles was a thief and it told the ship captain to leave his ship. The voice had issued warnings on many occasions, but it had never talked about death. Saying the drummer must die took everything to a frightening new level. Was the Voodoo voice capable of killing someone?
The party was still blazing when Jesse came back to the fire. He had no time to think about the voice. He was the man of the hour. Everybody wanted to talk to him. He didn’t mind. He was truly grateful to have so many good friends. He tried to hug each person at the party to thank him for coming.
When, at last, the party began to fade, Jesse’s father said goodnight and his mother had some typical advice. “Don’t stay up too late, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
She turned to Amy. “I’m glad my baby boy found such a good woman to take care of him. Promise me you won’t let him stay up all night.”
“I promise,” Amy said as she hugged her future mother-in-law in genuine affection.
Jesse didn’t tell Amy about the voice as they gathered trash and coolers and headed up from the beach to his parents’ cottage. People spread out their sleeping bags to sleep on the beach as the fire dwindled down to a huge pile of glowing coals.
Jesse and Amy had a tiny bedroom in his parents’ small, summer home. As they were getting into bed, Amy said, “Jesse, I hope you realize how lucky you are to have such a loving family. Not everybody gets that, you know. Your mother and father have been so good to me.”
Her voice trailed off. Jesse kissed her softly on the forehead and realized she was already asleep. He put his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, contemplating his last night as a single man. He listened into the night, hoping the Voodoo voice might have some words of wisdom for him besides, “The drummer must die.”
Jesse had a terrible dream that night. He and Rene were chained together in the wretched hold of a slave ship in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Three hundred men were crammed into spaces smaller than coffins. Jesse was not prepared for the humiliation and the claustrophobia and the choking stench. It was hopeless and te
rrifying and evil beyond belief. The total darkness was disorienting. The sounds were even worse. Men and women were sobbing and screaming and choking and praying out loud.
Even in his sleep, Jesse realized this was something more than a dream. Everything felt much too real. It smelled like rotten meat. The man next to him was so weak he could barely be heard, crying out in pain. It took some time for Jesse to realize it was Rene. His voice was raw and his breathing sounded labored. From the terrible sounds he was making, Jesse knew that Rene was dying. He was delirious and calling for water. He was blaming Jesse for the fact they had been captured in the first place.
Rene moaned and managed a vicious whisper. “You said it would be safe to travel on the road. You said it would be safe. I believed you. I was a fool to trust you. I know better. I knew we should have stayed off the road. But, no, you convinced me. I hope you’re happy I’m dying. I won’t be able to tell everybody how stupid you are.”
Jesse tried to console his friend, but the feverish rant only became more insulting. Rene’s voice began to fail. His breathing became labored. Jesse could hear his friend dying and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Please,” Rene said in a voice dwindled to a rasping gasp. “Please … water … that’s the least … bring me …”
Jesse wanted more than anything to ease his friend’s suffering. He struggled against his chains in vain. Then, he realized he could no longer hear Rene breathing. Then he heard the death rattle; a shuddering, gurgling, collapsing sigh. Rene was gone.
Jesse was sobbing when Amy awakened him. “Jesse, Jesse. Wake up, you’re having a bad dream.”
Jesse woke up and tried to get his bearings. He couldn’t help but tell Amy everything. “I heard the Voodoo voice last night at the fire. It said the drummer must die. And, now, I just had a dream, so real it could not have been a dream.”
“What happened in the dream?”
Jesse told her about the slave ship and how Rene died.
Amy was up on her knees. “Oh, my goodness. I hope he’s all right. I don’t know how powerful this Voodoo thing is. Could it actually kill someone?”
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