by Kahn, Denise
“Francisco Martinez, Señora, they call me Paco.”
“Where are you from Paco?”
“L.A., Ma’am.”
“Ah, city of Angels, and I’m sure you’re one of them.” The audience oohed and aawed, affectionately mocking him.
But Paco wasn’t intimidated in the least, and he played along. “Well, that’s what my mother says, but not my girlfriends.” They laughed and clapped. Davina looked at the spectators without saying anything, and then lifted an eyebrow. “I understand, Latin lover,” she said smiling.
“Si, Señora,” Paco answered, grinning.
“And do you play an instrument?”
“Yes, Ma’am, the guitar.”
“Great instrument. Classical or electric?”
“Both. But I prefer Rock and Roll, electric.”
“Love it! This should be fun,” Davina said. She turned to the next man and beckoned him to her. It was Max. He went up to her and God, how he wanted to hug her. But he held back. She put her arm around him nonchalantly, as she had with Paco. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she squeezed. Nobody noticed, but mother and son felt the electric connection. They kept up appearances. Davina wanted to tell the whole world that her son was this handsome Marine, and how damn proud she was. Instead she kept herself stoic and professional.
“Ah, another handsome guy!” Max cringed. The women in the audience whistled. “And what is your name?”
“Max.”
“Music Man!” Someone from the audience yelled.
“Music Man?”
“It’s a nickname the guys gave me.”
“Oh, I like that. So, tell me Music Man, why do they call you that?”
Max wanted to bolt right out of the hall, but he kept cool. “I got it in boot camp.”
“Oh? Tell me more.”
Mom, for Christ sake! “I find that music and rhythm can get you through anything, and I use it when things get tough.”
“Very wise. I’m been promoting that myself for years. Is there anyone who doesn’t like music?” She asked the crowd.
“NO!” They all yelled back.
“So you must surely play a musical instrument?” She very well knew he did, and not just one.
“I do.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“Bongos.”
“Oh, now those are fun. I’m sure we can find some.”
“I really don’t want to play…”
Davina had already turned to the third man. “Last but definitely not least!” The big black man could have been an NFL linebacker. No fat, just pure, hard muscle. Davina tried to put her arm around him, but he was too big. The audience laughed. One of them hollered: “Just pick her up, Col.”
And he did just that. Colin picked Davina up, albeit very gently, and hugged her. Davina disappeared in the man’s embrace. “Real pleasure to meet you Ma’am.” She caught her breath when he let her go.
“Pleasure to meet you too, big boy, now that I can breathe again.” Even Max laughed at that. “I have to say America produces the most handsome men! Don’t you agree?” Davina asked her audience.” They of course agreed by cheering as loud as possible. “And what is your name?”
“Colin Haferty, Ma’am, but they call me Colossus, Col for short.”
“Makes perfect sense, Col, thank you for that wonderful hug and for your service.”
“Yes, Ma’am, it’s a pleasure, Ma’am.”
“And where are your from, Col?”
“New Orleans, Ma’am.”
“Ah, land of the Saints,” the crowd cheered at the mention of the football team, “and of great music.”
“Oh, yes Ma’am, and great food.” The audience clapped and hollered some more.
“Absolutely! I bet you’re a singer, Col.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Would you sing something for us?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The beauty that came out of the giant’s mouth was heart-stopping. The a capella rendition of Amazing Grace gripped every person in the hall. Colin’s singing was effortless—he was born to sing, and the audience was witnessing an amazing talent. The notes coming out of his lips were perfectly shaped and crisp, and flowed like warm syrup. Even the most hardened soldiers couldn’t help feeling the wet sting in their eyes. Davina, as her son had been months before in boot camp, was duly impressed as well. She now slowly motioned with her hand and the band smoothly came in with their instruments. She turned to the big man and, as the song dictated, gently accompanied him. They became a mesmerizing duet. Besides the music and the singing the hall was completely silent. It seemed as if every soul in the room was holding their breath. As she sang Davina looked at the man’s eyes with pure professional love, and even pride. Only music could have such an effect.
When they finished Davina hugged the colossus, well, as best she could. She smiled at him and spoke into the microphone: “You are a man of grace, Colin Haferty, a fine southern gentleman, and I’m sure a great warrior. We thank you for everything you do. Now, when this is all over, come see me. Let’s get the whole world to enjoy your beautiful voice.” The crowd exploded.
“Oh, yes ma’am, I surely will,” the colossus said, as sweetly as a young boy being told that he was on his way to Disney World.
“Alright, everybody, time for Paco and Max, I’m mean Music Man.” Max glared at her. Davina smiled. “Get these men some instruments.” The members of her band immediately brought an electric guitar and a set of bongos.
Paco plucked the strings and the sound that come from the amplifiers made musical waves. Everyone immediately knew that the guitar playing would be divine. They roared in anticipation.
“Oh yeah! Good choice, Martinez.” Max said, immediately recognizing the first notes.
“For you, Señora, a timeless classic. Rrrr, sabor!”
Davina had recognized it too. “Nothing like Santana! Go for it Paco.” She moved toward the back of the stage and let Martinez and Max follow their passion. Paco’s fingers were like a machine—precise and never faltered. And Max accompanied him on the bongos. His hands moved so fast they were just a blur. The beat vibrated throughout the hall and into everyone’s body. Yes, her son had the genes, and when he beat the skins Max was in another world. Dry ice was released from the side of the stage and the men played with adoring frenzy as the clouds of white smoke danced around them. Through the haze Davina was sure she was seeing the souls of the ancestral musicians of her family.
The men on the stage played to their hearts’ content, and their audience was with them. They loved the impromptu spectacle and were proud to be among peers. They were not only great warriors, they were also magnificent musicians. Music at its best, as only music can bring people together. This was their moment—this was Warrior Music.
“Señora Davina, orale, come on!” And Davina did. She sang and danced to the rhythm and the music right along with Paco and Max, although she was careful not to stand next to her son. She worried that someone might recognize them, and she did not want him in any kind of awkward situation. Being in a war was definitely enough.
Max was incredibly proud of his mother. Why hadn’t he seen how ‘hip’ she was before this? He realized how magnificent she was, and not just as a mother. He watched her as she motioned for the backup singers to join her at the front of the stage. The men in the audience whistled at the beautiful women. The trio sang in Spanish, all of them fluent in the language. If the spectators closed their eyes they would have said that not only were their mouths singing, but their souls as well. It was a night no one in the hall would ever forget.
“Oh, Señor Santana would be so proud! Everybody agree?” Davina asked the crowd when they had finished. They answered her back with whistles and yells. “Gentlemen,” Davina said to the three impromptu musicians, and opened her arms. She hugged Col, Paco and Max. “Come see me in my tent at the end of the concert, I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered to them. “Yes, ma’am,” they ans
wered or nodded, and left the stage.
Davina went to the front of the stage, the backup singers right behind her. She looked at her audience, thinking how much she had cherished the time she had just spent with these men and women. This would surely be one of her favorite concerts of all time. And seeing Max, even for just a few minutes was worth all the preparations and effort everyone had put into it. “Our final song this evening, ladies and gentlemen, is a message from your loved ones back home.” All of the entertainers joined her—the country singers, rappers, musicians and backup singers. “Please know that they are always thinking of you, praying for you, waiting for you to get back safe and sound, as are all of us here. We are immeasurably proud and love you very, very much. So, from all of us…” Davina’s musicians started playing a few notes and then the entertainers started singing ‘…Courtesy of the red, white and blue.…” Everyone in the hall joined in as well.
As promised Paco, Colin and Max went to Davina’s tent. She was sitting in a folding chair. “Gentlemen, come in, thank you for coming.”
“Yes, Ma’am!” The trio said in unison.
“I think you are terrific musicians and the world should be blessed with your talents. When you get back to the States I want you to call me, and for heaven’s sake don’t give my number out to anybody else. I love my fans, but I need some privacy too.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Davina looked at the men, so handsome, so young, so brave, yet still so innocent in many ways. “This is probably pretty exciting for you, but I highly suggest you don’t tell anyone about this. Do you agree?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She handed them each a piece of paper. They took it and put it in their pockets. “Now, this is a two way street. I want something from you in return.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“But you don’t know what it is yet,” she chuckled.
“We trust you, Ma’am,” Colin said.
“Si, si absolutely!” Paco chimed in.
“Okay, here it is: You must promise me that you will be careful. I want to see you back home safe and sound.” She looked at the men. “Do we have a deal, gentlemen?”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
“Okay.” Davina got up and hugged each of them. They were leaving the tent when Davina called Max. “Oh, Music Man, could I have a word with you?”
“Of course,” he answered. The other two left.
Once they were gone mother and son fell into each other’s arms.
“Oh, Max, it’s so good to see you!”
“You too, Mom. You were terrific out there.”
“So were you! I’m very proud of you and not just as a musician, but for being a gallant Marine. I saw you on TV you know.”
“You did?”
“Yes, both your father and I did. That’s also what gave me the idea for this concert. I just missed you so much.”
I can’t believe you came out here! This is a war zone for Christ’s sake.”
“But I missed you, Max.”
“Oh, Mom.” How can I get mad at this woman? Not only is she a terrific singer she’s also the best Mom in the world. Not to mention the set of balls she’s got—and a hell of a lot bigger than a lot of men I know. “I missed you too. How’s Dad?”
“He’s good and sends all his love and is very, very proud of you. Unfortunately, he had to be in Madrid and couldn’t get out of it. Believe me, he tried. Was he ever pissed off!”
“I’m sure. Give him my best and tell him I love him.”
“I will.”
“When are you leaving?”
“As soon as everyone is packed up. They chartered a C130 for us.”
“Aw, Mom, they didn’t!” Max laughed, knowing that his mother had her very own luxurious plane.
“They did! And I thought it was a blast.”
“You’re the only person I know with such a sense of adventure. That’s a good thing.”
“Love my adventures.”
Max looked at his mother. She waited for him to say something, she knew he was thinking about something. “You did this for me, didn’t you?”
“Did what?”
“The concert.”
Davina waited a moment before answering. “To be honest, yes. I just had to see you, but then it became bigger than that. I thought I could do some good. You know, for everyone out here, to give them a little piece of joy from home.”
Max hugged his mother as tightly as if he were still a little boy. “And you did. Everyone said great things about you. It was really good to see you, Mom. You’re the best!”
“That goes double for me. I love you around the world and to the moon and back,” she said to her son, just as she had when he was little.
“And to Iraq, too.”
“Yes, absolutely. Tell me, will you get any time off? Do you think you would be able to get home at all?”
“I don’t know. Everything is up in the air, nobody knows too much right now.”
“I understand. Just be careful. Keep your head down and use your brains.” They hugged once more and then Max left. Davina looked at the spot where the young man had just exited the tent. She had never been so proud of her son, but she also had never felt so empty and powerless.
♫
COMBAT SUPPORT HOSPITAL
CHAPTER 32
After Robert’s death Sam hid behind her work. She pushed all thoughts from her mind and focused even more on how to help the wounded. Her medical team and their skills were brilliant and they patched up the bodies, but Sam concentrated on strengthening their psyches, as their wounds extended, consciously and subconsciously, from the body to the mind. The greatest weapon she had was music, she knew it helped, and she was continuously seeing the results.
Sam was sitting next to the bed where a man lay, his face bandaged, save for openings for his eyes, nose and mouth.
“Hey Greg,” Sam said to him, “you look better today.”
Almost every bone in the man’s face had been broken by an insurgent’s AK47. Greg would mend and it would take time, yet he considered himself lucky that he didn’t sustain a brain injury. “How can… you… tell?” He said slowly. He could speak, albeit with difficulty. “I’m… covered… in bandages.”
“I can see it in your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“Yes, they’re shinier than they were yesterday.”
“Very perceptive.”
“Uh, huh. That also means that you’re doing better.”
“Yeah, pain isn’t… too bad… today.”
“They’re giving you some good drugs, huh.”
“Uh, huh. You… brought a… guitar.”
“Yes, I thought I’d play a bit. Would that be alright.”
“Are you… kidding? My… very own… guitar player, and… a beautiful… one too.”
“Why thank you, kind sir. Now, let’s see if you can accompany me,” Sam said, strumming a couple of strings.
“Uh…”
“I know, things are a little tight in the face right now, but you can hum if it gets painful.”
“Okay.”
Max saw Sam walking into Greg’s room. He just missed her and now did not want to interrupt, so he stayed next to the door and watched. She sang a song Greg must have known since childhood. He could actually see the joy in the man’s eyes and demeanor when he heard the familiar song. He tried to sing with her but failed, so he hummed along and was happy enough with that.
Max kept watching Sam play for the wounded man. He was amazed at the reaction. She was lifting his spirits and morale, and Max’s favorite part, other than her humor and personality, was that she was doing it with music.
Sam sang a few more melodies that Greg was familiar with and then started to leave.
“Nurse Sam,” the wounded man said, “could I ask… you for one… more favor?”
“Such as?”
“A kiss.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up. Would she?
Sam la
ughed “Sorry, can’t do that.”
“Just a little…, little, little… one, please,” he begged.”
Max had to smile and understood the man implicitly.
“Sorry, Greg, I reserve those for the man I love. But you definitely have a piece of my heart.”
“Okay, I …understand. Thanks for… everything.”
“My pleasure, now you just get better,” Sam said. She kissed her fingertips and then placed them on the man’s lips. She turned and walked out of the room. She almost ran into Max and stopped just an inch in front of him.
“You’re pretty amazing, Sam,” Max said.
“What?”
“Your singing, and everything you do for the wounded.”
“Oh! Thank you, Max.” Sam said, recovering quickly.
“Time for a coffee?”
“Yeah, I’ve got a lunch break right now.”
“Great, let’s go.”
They went to the cafeteria, picked up a couple of sandwiches and cold drinks and went outside. They sat in folding chairs quietly tucked away under a canopy. Sam stood the guitar up against a post and opened her drink.
“Do you have any relatives in Boston?” Max asked.
“No, my parents were killed in a car accident a few years ago, and then of course you know about Robert.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry, Sam. He was a good guy, I met him at the beginning of the war last year.”
“Yes, I remember how much he praised the Marines he was with on that trip. He was really impressed.” Max nodded. “I do have Ms. Nagel.”
“Ms. Nagel?”
“Yes, she took me in when my parents died. She’s probably a person I could call a relative. She was a godsend when I had no one. And of course Sandstorm.”
“Sandstorm?”
“My cat.”
“Why do you call him Sandstorm?”
“Because I found him as a kitten in a snowstorm.”
