My Favorite Band Does Not Exist
Page 22
"But if you want to stay out of the spotlight, then why let us find you?" Unwise asked. "Why let anyone find you ever?"
"It's because of something I learned a long time ago." Johnny turned a meaningful look toward Eureka. "A secret's no fun unless you share it."
"Wait a minute," said Stray. "Isn't that from one of your songs?"
Johnny shrugged. "If it isn't, it should be."
Just then, Eureka raised her arm and tapped her wristwatch. "It's about that time."
Sarah, the bass player, got a panicky look on her face. "You're not sending us home already, are you?"
"No, no." Johnny shook his head. "In fact, you have a big night ahead of you."
"Big night?" said Grief.
"There's a gig down the river," said Johnny. "You'll be my band. I'm calling you 'Newforia.'"
The four pilgrims exchanged wide-eyed looks.
"You're kidding," said Stray.
"Dead serious," Johnny replied.
"Oh ... my ... god." Grief looked like she was about to explode into a million blond-pigtailed pieces.
"We're going to play a gig with Johnny Fireskull!" said Unwise.
"The Johnny Fireskull," Sarah added, tears running down her face.
"This better not be a dream," said Unwise.
"Oh ... my ... god," Grief repeated.
"Come on, everyone." Eureka herded the pilgrims toward the door. "Let's go get ready for the show. We'll see Johnny again soon enough."
Just when she seemed to have them all headed for the doorway, Sarah ducked to one side and rushed back over to Johnny. "Could you play us a song first?"
"Well," he said. "I really have to get ready for tonight, too."
"Just one song," Sarah pleaded. "We've come so far, and the only thing that kept me going all that way was the thought of hearing you sing in person."
Johnny sighed and scratched his chin. He looked at Eureka, who shrugged, and then at the four teenagers. They watched him with a level of expectant tension so high that he could have sworn he felt the physical pressure from their stares pushing him backward.
"Sure," he said. "One song."
The pilgrims hurried away from the door and arranged themselves on stacked crates in a corner of the barroom. Johnny got the bartender to loan him the beat-up acoustic guitar from the backroom, and then he pulled up a stool and started playing.
"This one's for a couple of girls I used to know back home," he said, winking at Eureka.
She smiled back at him and nodded as he began to sing:
"Where do we go when you close the book?
Will you ever come back for a second look?
Will we live out our lives in a parallel place,
or when you put us aside
will we just fade away?
Will we know any better inside?
Will we feel anything when we die?
Is there a sequel in store
or no more
or no more
when we get to the end?"
ROBERT T. JESCHONEK'S stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies around the world, including those in the Star Trek series published by Pocket Books. He has also written several pod-casts, numerous e-books, and a Twitter serial, as well as stories for DC Comics. He lives in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, and this is his first novel. You can visit him online at www.thefictioneer.com.