Street Find Ch 07 08

Chapter 7 A Whole New Sound

The three of us sat at the kitchen table after dinner while Gina told Fran about meeting their father and the outcome. I saw the look of shock on Fran's face and I got up and left the two of them. This wasn't my affair or my decision to participate in. I went to the living room, far enough away that I could only hear subdued voices coming from the kitchen. I didn't hear any negative sounds, but I did hear some sniffling. I was sure it was a very emotional discussion for both of them.

When Fran and Gina came to the living room a while later, I could see Fran had the same tear tracks that Gina had shown that afternoon. Fran sat on the sofa beside me while Gina lowered herself into my lap. I waited for Fran to tell me of her decision.

"I'm going to talk to Daddy, Ed. Gina has explained the situation to me and I think I want to hear it from him first before I forgive him. I think I want to, but it won't be easy. There's still a lot of pain in my heart about what happened. I hope Daddy can help me make it go away."

"I hope so too, dear," I said. "I think your father is sincere in his regret. But only you can decide if you can forgive him. Whatever you decide, we'll support you. You know that."

Gina smiled and hugged her sister. "Thank you, Ed. You're always there for us. Sometimes I think of you as the big brother I never had."

I smiled and shook my head. "When you're around, Gina, I'm not thinking like a big brother."

That got both the sisters laughing and the somber mood was broken.

"So, you girls have been holed up in that bedroom for days on end. What have you been up to?"

"We have a list of almost forty songs we think we can present," Gina said proudly. "We've been scouring the YouTube scene looking for material that suits our style. We've been looking for numbers for you, too."

"Oh. I know you've been working on your instruments. I heard you in the store the other day on the guitar, Gina, picking out a nice little melody. You both keep surprising me ... and the rest of the guys too."

"We want to add something more to the band," Fran said. "This has been such a wonderful experience for both of us. We've been given freedom and encouragement that we've never known before. Stan and the boys have been so good to us. We want to make them look good. We're not trying to be the stars; we just want the band to be as good as it can be."

"Well, you may not want to be the stars, but that's what's happening. The thing I notice is that no one is jealous. No one thinks they are getting cheated out of the limelight. We've got almost everyone but Stan and Thad on vocals. Al's getting extra guitar licks, and Rollie's getting his share on keyboards too. Every rehearsal the sound gets deeper and fuller. You are the face of Street Find. You make everyone else better because you don't just sing, you put on a performance. That never happened before. Now, we've got Bud and Al and even stodgy old me getting in on the act. Stan's drumming has never been better. We're going to finish this summer and realize just how far we've come from last March. It will seem like a million miles."

I watched their faces as I finished my synopsis of their contribution. They looked at each other before turning back to me. They didn't seem to know how to respond to my assurances of their status. I didn't want to discourage them. Quite the opposite. Stan and Bud expected me ... combined with the two sisters ... to come up with the music that would make us successful and in demand. We were just doing what our leader wanted.

"Can you show me what you've chosen?" I asked, recognizing I had rendered them speechless.

"Oh ... uhm ... yeah ... okay," Fran stumbled.

I could see the grin on Gina's face, knowing that she had understood where I was coming from. She popped up and skipped into the music room and came back out with a sheet of paper, once again plopping herself down in my lap.

I could see it was a printout of a computer file. I looked it over. "Oh, wow. This is really some kind of mix. Alison Kraus, Lady Antebellum, Miranda Lambert, Kelly Clarkson, Amanda Marshall; there aren't many you've missed," I smiled.

"We won't try and make them sound like the original, Ed. We probably can't do that and make it work. What we're doing now seems to be the right thing. Shape the songs into our style. Other professional entertainers do that, so it should work for us."

"I agree totally, Fran. Don't try and imitate, but make them your own."

"The other side of the page are songs we think you should try, Ed," Gina said.

I turned the sheet over and looked at the list. "Oh, man. Rob Thomas, Keith Urban, Johnny Reid, Brian Adams, John Legend? Is there anyone you've missed?" I asked, stunned at their choices.

"Sure ... lots of others. But that will get you started," Gina announced.

"I don't know, girls, these guys have much more range than I do. I don't know if I can handle these numbers."

"What was it he just told us, Fran? Oh yeah, I remember. 'Don't imitate. Make them your own.'" The two of them sat looking at me with a self-satisfied smirk. They had me.

"Okay, I get the message. But I'm probably going to need some help. I don't know what I sound like, so I'll have to get you two to do a sound check on my attempts."

"Happy to do that, Ed," Fran smiled. "We can give you instrumental backup, too."

"I'll need it to drown out my voice," I chuckled.

"Now Ed, you know what I told you about that," Gina warned. "Let's not go there again, agreed?"

"Yeah. I hear you," I said, resigned. "We are pretty much putting the retro song list behind us, aren't we?

"Yes," Gina said firmly. "Our audience is more hip than we are giving them credit for. So much of the music we've chosen is cross-over that we can satisfy most tastes. We need to limit the number of 'oldie moldies,'" she stated emphatically.

"Okay, girls, I trust your judgment."

~*~

Fran met with her father on Wednesday evening. She was alone, meeting him at the house where he was living. She was gone over two hours, but when she came back, I saw no evidence that she was upset.

Gina couldn't wait to ask. "So ... how did it go?"

"Okay. We've sort of agreed to work on our relationship. I forgave him, but I told him I wouldn't forget. He has a lot of making up to do as far as I'm concerned."

"What kind of place is he living in? Is it a dump?" Gina asked.

"Huh! Not likely. It's a lovely old Victorian style two story house in a nice neighborhood. His landlady is very friendly with Dad. Real friendly. I'm pretty sure they're sleeping in the same bed."

"You're kidding!" Gina exclaimed. "What's she like ... this landlady?"

"Actually, she's nice. Her name is Eleanor Schumann and she's a widow. I'd say about Dad's age. Pretty good looking and with a real friendly face. I think Daddy's in love," she giggled. "They sat together after we had our talk, and they were holding hands."

"Well I'll be," Gina said, shaking her head. "What about Mom? Is he going to divorce her?"

"Nope. He sold his business and moved here to get away from her. He told me if she wants a divorce, she could pay for it. Dad's pretty angry with Mom. He doesn't want to give her a thing after the hell she put him through over the last seven years. Besides, that idiot preacher would probably forbid Mom from getting a divorce. Nope, I think Daddy and Eleanor are going to 'live in sin,'" she giggled again.

"He seemed happy when I talked to him, Fran," I said.

"He is. I think he's getting all the loving he missed in past years. He looks younger somehow. She's good for him, Gina."

"We should get together with them soon," Gina said.

"We've been invited over for Sunday dinner next week. You're invited too, Ed. Dad is pretty impressed with you and feels he owes you a big debt for saving me."

"I'll be happy to be there," I assured them.

~*~

We had one outdoor venue before July 4th and it was in Moses Lake, a nearly two hour drive. Stan owned a van and both Al and Thad had SUV's. That provided us with enough room for our instruments, microphones, and amplifiers. I had replaced my stolen Saturn with a Dodge Caravan, plenty big enough for the three of us, our luggage, and our instruments. It wasn't new, but was in reasonable shape with low mileage.

Moses Lake was a three day jamboree with only one headliner, a fairly well-known male country singer who was on the downside of his career. We tailored our play list to give it a "country" flair with enough differences between the three sessions that it wouldn't sound like a repeat if anyone attended all three. We had four new numbers that we had rehearsed over the past two weeks and we were satisfied that they would fit well with the rest of our selections.

I didn't think much of the motel we chose, but with two queen sized beds, we could cope. Gina was sleeping with me, of course. There wasn't a hint of disappointment or jealousy between the two. After Fran and my conversation the morning after the concert, the switch in sleeping accommodations was all done and over with before I even knew about it.

The crowd was pretty good for our first performance on Friday. I was worried that since we were away from the main population centers that we would have a sparse turnout. Not so. The only real problem we had was dealing with the wind. It was sunny and hot, just as we expected it would be. What we didn't count on was a wind of over twenty mph to battle with. We all lathered ourselves up with sun block and both the girls attempted to wear their newly purchased straw cowboy hats, but the wind made that impossible.

It didn't really matter in the end. The audience was ready and willing to hear us and we gave them our usual hard entry, this time with a country flavor. The twenty-plus minutes whipped by and the response was great, as it had been in Cheney. It seemed like an awful lot of preparation work for such a short session, but that was how most of these outdoor fairs were run.

We found a good restaurant that evening and enjoyed a meal together. Stan had brought Doreen with him, Bud had his girlfriend Rene, and that made ten of us at two tables. We had a few beers and a lot of fun that night. The next morning we were up late and getting ready for our second performance. Happily, the wind had dropped and we didn't have to worry about being blown around on stage.

We were about four hours before show time when Stan had a call on his cell phone from the event organizer. The upshot of the phone call was that a couple of groups had dropped out and they had a big gap in their program. Could we please extend our session to forty or forty-five minutes? Stan told the fellow we'd call him back, and then proceeded to call us all together to figure out how we could do it. That's what I liked about Stan. He was always trying to find ways to be a winner. It was easy to work with him with that attitude.

We came up with a twelve song schedule that was a mix of familiar and new material. Stan called the man back and told him we'd do it, but naturally, we wanted the fee for the missing groups. The event manager agreed and we had a much bigger payday. We copied the list of songs down for each of us so that we knew what was coming next and headed over to the temporary bandstand to get set up a little early.

It was almost summer on the calendar, but it felt like summer with the sun high in the sky. We'd dressed lightly and brought some towels from home if things got sweaty. Stan decided we would take a five minute break in the middle of the performance and asked me to keep the audience with us by introducing the band and saying a few words about each person. I agreed, and Gina said she'd help me. I had a hunch what kind of help she might provide. When our time came, I stepped up to the microphone.

"Hello there!" I said. "We're the band called Street Find, and we're here to give you our best. I hope you like it."

We'd picked a not so familiar tune to begin with: Big League, the Tom Cochrane hit. A few bars in I could tell that we hadn't made a mistake. It was the first time I'd kicked off a set as the lead voice. We followed up with Gina and Fran on K.T. Tunstall's, If Only, and we were on our way with the audience right along with us.

I don't think I'll ever get used to the positive feedback that a live audience can give a performer. It energizes you and drives you to giving it right back to them. We didn't have a huge crowd that afternoon, but we had a lively one.

We took the five minute break that Stan wanted and I did my introduction thing, stretching it to fill the time. Gina helped out so I could take on some water and towel my face and neck. The audience could see we weren't going anywhere, so they stuck with us. Since we hit pay-dirt with Big League, I wasn't worried about our second opening with Somethin' Bad, allowing the girls to get down and dirty. It took ten seconds to have the crowd on its feet. I had no idea Fran could make her voice sound that raunchy. We stretched it an extra minute just to keep the crowd up for the game.

Despite the new-age music, we had lots of middle-aged folks and even older in the audience, clapping their hands while some were even singing along. I looked back at Stan, who'd been a bit doubtful about my music selection, and he was smiling and shaking his head. Picking songs is a process, and adding new ones to an established repertoire is always a gamble, but in this case, I had a hunch about our average age and makeup of the crowd, and it turned out I had guessed fairly accurately.

We finished our double set and thanked the audience. They were very generous with their applause and I felt we had given them a good show. We were off stage and toweling down as we began to get ready to head back to the motel and a much needed shower when we were approached by the manager.

"Stan, I just wanted to thank you for helping us out. You gave those people a hell of a show and I'm wondering if you wouldn't mind giving us the same double set tomorrow for the finale?"

Stan looked around and got a few nods and a couple of shrugs. "Looks like we can do that, Myron."

"Wonderful. I want you to be the final warm-up for the headliner, Cody Branston. He's going to have to go some to give the people what you do, but that's his problem. I'm just tickled pink about how good your performance is. You can be sure I'll be telling people just what a great value you are. Thank you again for your help," he smiled.

No one was going to complain about being second last on the program. Yes, we'd be a little later getting home, but it would also be cooler at that time of day, more like it was in Cheney. That would help keep us fresh.

"Thanks, gang," Stan said. "It's nice to get a reward for being the good guys. I really appreciate your support."

"Happy to do it," Bud said, and I nodded in agreement.

"You didn't really think we were going to say no, did you?" Gina laughed.

"Hey, these aren't easy gigs. Look at us. Soaked in sweat, dusty, tired. This makes club dates look like a walk in the park," Stan said.

"Yeah, but club dates don't have five hundred or a thousand people in the audience," Rollie said. "Man ... I can't get enough of that love they give us."

"Yeah, we're just a bunch of adrenalin junkies," I chuckled.

"Well, come on you junkies," Fran said. "Let's get our asses back to the motel. Time to put a strain on the water heater."

~*~

We modified our show once more for the final double set and once again, the audience was more than satisfied. The sun had gone down and that lowered the temperature on stage quite a bit, making us that much more comfortable. We didn't stick around for Cody Branston's set, we were on our way home. The showers would come later.

~*~

I wasn't paying much attention to the headliners or other acts for our outdoor dates. I was more interested in where we had to be and when. Independence Day was almost upon us, and when I looked at the schedule, I got a surprise. Actually, two surprises. We were scheduled second-to-last on the program, with a thirty minute single set. But the act we were leading into was none other than Crystal Shannon. We would get a nice payday as the lead-in, but even more tempting was the single shot we'd get at Miss Prima Donna.

I called Stan on the phone. "Stan, have you seen the July 4th schedule?"

"Yup. Figured I get a call from you," he chuckled.

"Since you and Doreen book these dates, you must know where we are on the program and who else is there."

"Yup. That's true."

I got the feeling he was having a bit of fun at my expense. It wasn't like I was learning about this ten minutes before we went on, but still, he knew exactly what might happen.

"So ... we get thirty minutes and a chance to kick Crystal's ass?" I asked to confirm.

"Yup. That's how I look at it."

I could hear the humor in his voice. He thought this was pretty funny. As a matter of fact, I thought it was pretty funny too. But I did wonder whether Fran would agree.

"Here's the schedule for July 4th, girls. Look it over," I said, dropping the sheet on the kitchen table.

I saw Fran pick it up and within seconds her eyes went wide. "Is this for real?"

"Stan says yes," I confirmed.

"What?" Gina said, moving over to have a look. "Oh, Fran, this is too good to be true," she said, half laughing.

I saw Fran nodding with a steely look in her eye. I heard her mumble "Payback time."

Everyone in the band knew there was bad blood between Fran and Crystal. They didn't know all the gory details, but they knew that Gina and I were strongly on Fran's side and that was enough to get them all on board. We wanted to make life as difficult as possible for her that night, and the best way to do that was to put on a show she couldn't hope to match.

"You know the best part?" Gina said. "She has no idea who Street Find is. This is going to hit her without warning. I can't wait," she cackled.

We had thirty minutes to bury Ms. Shannon, and we devoted all our efforts to digging the hole. We must have gone over the song selection about ten times before we were satisfied that we had the mix we wanted. We deliberately included Brian Adams' Don't Let Go and Adele's Someone Like You in the middle of the set just to let everyone know we weren't just a hard driving band. Two out of ten songs would be enough to add space between our more upbeat and rocking numbers. The girls had put together a great rendition of Bartender, placed in the early part of the set. They had it moving at a rocking pace and they had their stage performance down pat by the time the 4th rolled around.

I could feel the excitement in both Fran and Gina. There would be a big crowd at the Spokane Fairgrounds and we wanted them to know who we were and that we were all from Spokane.

Doreen and Stan cooked up a wonderful idea. On their own, with their own money, they ordered two dozen t-shirts in white with a stylized red and black Street Find logo on the front showing the silhouette of a girl huddled on some steps under a street light. There was some copy on the back in bold black letters: Spokane's Own. Doreen had figured out which sizes to order and we were given two each with a few held in reserve.

"If we hit this as well as we have in the past, we may be able to sell some of these t-shirts," Doreen said.

"Good idea," I agreed. Hell, any extra income would help defray costs.

The Fair Grounds was a lot bigger and better equipped than the smaller sites. The annual country fair wasn't until September and we weren't booked for it, but this would be a chance to show ourselves to our home town people. You never know where that might lead.

~*~

When Stan set up his drums for our Independence Day gig, I smiled as I saw the new black and red logo on the face of his bass drum. Doreen had insisted that we wear the t-shirts, which was no problem, but the name and logo on the drum was a nice finishing touch. We were showing all the signs of being professionals.