Taken In One Minute

Anita stopped at the red light a couple feet ahead of the white line that separated the drive and walk space. Behind her right ear she heard what sounded like a car door opening and closing. She waited until the vehicle came up to the line and looked curiously over her shoulder at the driver.

It was a white compact with open windows. Smiling at her with perfect white teeth was a man wearing a low crowned cowboy hat above penetrating blue eyes. There were tuning pegs on the guitar neck that sat on the floor of the passenger seat. His radio played a top song of Air Shift listed on Billboard.

A jolt of electricity surged through Anita’s torso. He met all the criteria she imagined about the band members: attractive, charismatic and outgoing. The light turned green and the truck behind her honked. She smiled at him and waved to pull into the coffee drive-through on the left of the street, hoping he would follow her. As fate would have it, he did.

Sitting in line to order, she motioned in her rearview mirror toward the picnic tables under umbrellas at the back of the parking lot pull out.  To her glee, he nodded yes.

Anita picked the benches farthest from the rotating traffic by the cashier. He sauntered up to the opposite side and jumped onto the seat by kicking his legs up and over the bench. He smiled brightly and tapped the brim of his woven hat. It was made of a thick woven fabric unknown to her, cinched by a multicolored band of beads and adorned by an eagle feather on one side. His side burns were a rich enough brown to blend with the hat and his dark woven jean jacket. She marveled at his completeness.

“Howdy Honey,” he said, “thanks for calling me out of traffic. I needed to meet a beautiful local girl to help me spend my day.”

 Her toes curled under with the prospect of being his center of attention. She glanced around her as though to catch someone seeing her sitting with someone as  famous as this man. The aroma of coffee filled her nostrils with building excitement.

“But first,” she cautioned, playing the nymph, “I need to know if you are with Air Shift. You were playing one of their songs.”

He shook his head to the side and nodded. “Yes, mam. You got that right.” He took a drink from his cup. He raised and bent a leg onto the bench. He encircled it with his arm, leaning into it. “No foolin’ you, huh.”

“I’ve been trying to connect with you guys for the last two weeks. I’m writing the article for the daily paper,” she checked her watch. “We distribute at noon. How come you guys didn’t respond?”

“Honey, we’re on the road 24/7. Our agent takes care of all that stuff. But, look, you had the moxie to stop me in my tracks, so what do you want to know about us that isn’t in all our promotional materials?”

Anita tapped her pen on her pad. “What drew you here to this city?”

“That’s the best question you can ask me?”

“It’s my starting point,” she said, lowering her shoulders, pushing her chest out in defiance.

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped from the smile to a crooked angle, “Ask a better question.”

She clutched her cup, almost regretting she had reigned this band member through the drive-through. She had to keep the article local, otherwise the editor would delete it. She needed a good headline. What would be a good headline, she asked herself. Then she thought she would challenge him with that same question.

“How about this; what kind of headline do you want?”

He said, “Hmmmm.” And rubbed his chin.

“Remember now, that all those attending the concert are people in this area so what is it you want them to know about Air Shift that would make them bring a friend or neighbor to hear your sounds?”

He rocked his bent leg back and forth and took a long swallow from his cup. “Good one,” he said. “Tell you what. I’m gonna try something different in this town that I haven’t done elsewhere. I’m gonna invite you to show up and help me tonight.”

“You’re kidding,” Anita said. “I’m not a musician.”

“Ah,” he said raising his index finger, “but the headline will feature what you thought of us as individuals and how that impacts our total sound.”

“I will have to share my opinion about your sound?” She laid her pen down. “I can’t do that. I’ve been instructed to report on the band’s popularity before getting here, why the arena scheduled you.”

“It’s personal journalism. I can tell already how smart and innovative you are. No doubt you’ve received the flyers and bulletin report of how we’ve progressed through the years. Use that as a starting point.” He emphasized the last two words. Anita squirmed n the seat. “Or maybe you aren’t sure enough to do it?” He tipped his cup toward her.

She grabbed hers with both hands and squeezed. She mentally reviewed how she would introduce a two-part series to the editor: number one with the announcement of the band with the five w’s answered and number two would be her intimate review of the members. An idea inspired her next question. “Could I ask each member what his individual goal is and what does the future of the band look like?”

He laughed. “Granted, Honey. Granted. That will make for a good piece, won’t it?”

“Let’s start with you. Tell me how you started on the guitar and what your goals are.”

He stood up and stretched his arms overhead. “Don’t have the time. But you catch me tonight.” He smiled and dipped his hat forward with his approving nod.

Anita stood up. “I thought I heard a car door open and close at the intersection. Was that you?”

“Yeah,” he said, picking up his cup. “My trunk popped loose. Couldn’t risk more damage to one of our amplifiers I’m transporting to the engineer at the music store down the street.” He drank his cup empty. “Wear something tight, black and sexy and show up two hours early. I’ll see that you get in.”

He tossed his cup into the trash and disappeared down the street.

Anita glowed. She felt she would have no problem letting her editor know the change in plans and dialed his number.

He answered in his usual gruff manner, “Speak,” he said.

“You'll never guess what happened to me in one minute of time,” Anita said.

“Tell.”

“You know I’ve been after an interview with Air Shift for two weeks well I met a member by the coffee drive through on Winchester. I waved at him to follow me for a cup and he followed!”

“Do tell . .”

“He invited me to come early tonight to interview each band member about their goals and the future role of the band so I’m gonna do a two-part series for the daily. The second comes out the day after the concert with my review of the band.”

“Really . . .”

“Yes, really.”

“What was his name?”

Anita blanched. “I didn’t get it but mind you I made him admit he is a member of the band.” She looked skyward, celebrating. “He was so polished, so knowledgeable.”

“What’s he doing on Winchester?”

“He’s taking an amplifier to be fixed by an engineer down the street.”

“Anita, a band of this caliber travels with their own engineers.”

Anita couldn’t breathe. “What?” she sighed. She looked around her, glad no one was looking at her. The coffee scent was replaced by the stench of exhaust.

“You’ve been takin’ by a local yokel.”

“He promised . . .”

“He threw your booty to the dumpster.”

“But . . .”

“No buts,” he grunted, “get that gullible butt of yours into this office.”

She swallowed her pride, “Sorry sir, I didn't see that one coming." She threw her cup into the trash as she marched to her car. "I racked up my very first butt rock dream, didn't I.”