Chapter 4
"What is the Midsummer Festival celebrating, anyway?" Roger asked as they walked past a few of the many pop-up pavilions that had people offering various art and crafts, hand in hand, towards the lights and sounds of the stage.
"We always have it on the weekend before the August Civic Holiday," Sarah replied. "As it happens, tonight is Lughnasadh, the actual Midsummer."
"I believe in the lunacy part. I think that the Magic Plague seems to be ramping up to a whole new level." There was a fair-sized crowd around the stage that they were approaching. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, with the ample quantities of beer flowing seeming to help. Peddlers were selling glow sticks, though a substantial number of the people were glowing from various body parts on their own. The band, consisting of a black woman on bass guitar, two white guys on regular guitars, an Asian woman on drums, a Hispanic woman on keyboards, and a white woman and black man on vocals, was putting on an energetic performance and the crowd was mostly dancing to some degree, while trying to not slosh their beer too much. Roger could also see three relaxed-looking cops on the right of the stage, keeping an eye on things.
"Not lunacy. Loo-neh-seh," Sarah corrected him, loudly over the noise of the band, giving him a jab with an elbow. He tried to look innocent. "It's the ancient festival between the Summer Solstice and the Autumnal Equinox. But you know that already, don't you." She glowered at him and he grinned back.
"Any excuse for a party," he smiled. "Is that a beer tent by the stage?" Indeed, it was, sitting about ten yards to its right, and there was a steady stream of customers. It didn't take long for them to reach the counter, where they each paid for an edible plastic cup of a very tasty local brew.
"This is great stuff!" said Roger, swallowing some. "I've never been much of a beer fan, but this could change my mind."
"I know the people who make it," Sarah replied as she looked around, trying to find a way to the back of the crowd, but the way seemed to be solidly blocked by dancing people, who cheered and applauded as the band finished whatever song it was that they had been playing. "They were students in one of my classes, several years ago. They were slackers, but they seem to have succeeded anyway." Roger grinned, also looking around for a way out.
"I think that we'll have to go back around the beer tent to get out of this mob," he said. "We can enjoy the rest of the show from a safe distance where we're less likely to go deaf or get trampled." Sarah's response was interrupted by the female vocalist.
"Thank you all very much," she said, her voice booming through the sound system. "You're the best crowd we've played for!" The audience cheered. "It's a magical evening of a magical day - Lughnasadh, the Midsummer Festival!" Someone projected the word onto the back of the stage. "And it really is pronounced Loo-neh-seh." That got some laughs. "It's a traditional time for singing, dancing, and partying!" There was more enthusiastic response from the crowd. "What?" she asked, turning around to see the drummer, one of the guitarists, and the keyboard player whispering together and pointing at Roger.
"Oh, fuck," muttered Roger. "Come on, Sarah, let's skedaddle."
"What's going on?" she asked, not going anywhere and clamping an iron grip on his left arm.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said the male vocalist, "it appears that we have a celebrity in our midst. Emily, please shine the spotlight over there." The spotlight was mounted in a tree and operated by remote control, and it quickly swiveled and pinned Roger and Sarah in its glare. "It's Roger Matheson, of Roger and the Homewreckers and their improbable hit, 'Oompa Loompa Love'!" There was enthusiastic applause from the crowd, and Roger and Sarah found themselves getting pushed to the steps of the stage. The cops were there to meet them.
"Don't let us on the stage! We're dangerous and a threat to the band members!" The cops, two men and a woman, merely laughed and propelled them up the stairs amidst hooting and hollering.
"Hey, it's Mrs. Burns! Hi, Mrs. Burns!" shouted a few teenagers, who were near the stage, jumping up and down and waving.
"Hi, kids. Are you having a good time?" They cheered and agreed loudly, getting some more applause and laughs from the others in the audience.
"Excuse me, Mr. Matheson, but the front of the stage is that way," said the bassist, which everyone heard because her wireless headset was on. That got laughs, and more when Roger, who had been trying to take advantage of the attention that Sarah had been getting to sneak off, was firmly returned to Sarah's side. He smiled weakly and waved to the crowd, who applauded. A microphone was pressed into his hands by a man who must have been the sound technician, and another was given to Sarah.
"Hi, everyone. I just happened to be passing through town tonight when I thought I'd check out the Festival. I have no idea how you recognized me. I was the guy at the back playing the tambourine."
"So, this is what you've been up to," said Sarah. "Long time, no see."
