Page 14 of Accidental Fire
“Uh, no. Sorry.” River turned and walked across the parking lot to the back door of the venue, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the sway of his hips. Without my consent, my cock filled.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Hey, man. What’s going on?”
I looked up to see Clancy Morse crossing the lot to where I’d parked my truck next to the band’s bus. “Not much, you? Have they started playing yet?” He was carrying some rolled-up sheets of paper in his right hand as he approached.
“Not yet. I just came out to get a few hours of shut-eye. They want to drive back to LA tonight. Catch this shit.” He pulled a piece of paper from the roll and handed it to me.
It was a photocopy of a newspaper article, and by reading the headline, I knew it wasn’t good news:Accidental Fire Was Not On Fire and It Was No Accident.
I scanned the article that started with:I had high hopes for this band, based on their performance at Rocktoberfest 2024 in Black Rock, Nevada.The entertainment reporter waxed poetically about the venue and how well the band performed at the festival the previous year, giving Accidental Fire high marks for their first appearance at the festival.
They mentioned the names of the band members and their place in the band, saying that even at their young ages and with the short time they’d played together, they played like seasoned professionals. That was in the first paragraph.
The second paragraph wasn’t exactly glowing, and the third paragraph was even worse. It ended with:I’m not sure the band I saw at The Offbeat is the same band I saw in Black Rock, nor do they sound the same as they did on their debut EP released in May: “Start the Fire.”
“Shit, that’s harsh. What are you supposed to do with all those copies?” I asked Clancy.
“Kensington asked me to tape them inside the bus for the band to see. I hate like hell to do it, but he said the record label wasn’t thrilled about their performance either, so he wants to give them a wake-up call,” Clancy responded.
That sounded exactly like Nate. If it were any of my business, I’d tell him he was going to kill the desire to perform in those kids if he jammed that review down their throats, but again, not my business.
“Yeah, I hate the fucking guilt trip he wants to pull on these kids, but they have an obligation to their fans to do their best. Hell, those tickets aren’t cheap. That Boyer kid needs someone to knock some sense into him. He’s the one who keeps pushing the rest of them to smoke. I forbid it on the bus during the winter tour. If I get stopped, and the bus stinks of weed? It’s my ass on the line for a DUI.” He made a good point.
“Does Kensington tell Ashby about the drugs?” If he did, Nate would give those young men a lecture like they’d probably never had in their lives.
“I don’t think so. Kensington’s got a few bands he manages, so I’m not sure he’s been paying attention, but that show last Friday should have clued him in. My guess is the record label took a chunk out of his ass already. Anyway, the more I’m around those kids, the happier I am that I never had a family. You married?” Apparently, this was the getting-to-know-you portion of the tour.
“No. Never met anyone who made me want that piece of paper. As far as kids go, I’m sure if my mom were still alive, I’d have been pressured into it by her, but my pop’s reliving his teen years, so that’s enough for me.”
We both laughed at my comment. “Want a beer?”
Clancy was a decent guy. Like me, he kept to himself, so I didn’t have to worry about him wanting to get chummy, but I didn’t have to be rude to him either.
“Thanks, but no. I quit drinkin’ ten years ago. Got in the way of too many things I wanted to accomplish, so I stopped. I don’t hold it against anyone who enjoys it, but I don’t miss the headaches. I’ll get outta your hair. I’m guessing you’ll leave whenwe do?” He pointed to the bus, which was a gold-and-black beast without any indicators that it was hauling a rock band.
“Actually, I’ll be sleeping here and leaving around five in the morning to avoid traffic at the border. I figure I’ll get to Ensenada in time to check into the resort, eat a big breakfast, and go back to sleep.”
Clancy laughed. “I wish I had that same luxury. I gotta rent a van in Mexico to haul them around. Aren’t you worried about parking in the lot at the resort?”
“I was worried, so I called and talked to them. The resort has a secure lot where I can park the truck and trailer, so I’m sure you can park the van in the same lot if you’re worried. I’m staying at the same hotel as all of you. We should get a meal together sometime. It’s for two nights, right? That’ll give them time to rest before the Phoenix shows.” I wouldn’t mind the company.
“Sure, sure. I just hope they don’t repeat the behavior I witnessed during the winter shows. They were like hyper toddlers without their Ritalin. They tore out the wall in one of the hotels because they thought there was a short in the wiring of a wall sconce. Seems Goldie worked as an electrician’s assistant for a couple of summers and decided he’d rewire the place. Shorted out the electricity on their whole floor.
“Little bastards woke me from a dead sleep to help them find an electrician who would come out at two in the morning to fix their fuck up with the wiring. It turned out the bulb in the light was going bad, which was why it was flickering. That’s when I made the rule that I’m not their friend or their father, and I’m not the guy they run to when they have a problem. I’m not getting pulled into their bullshit again.” Clancy laughed before he waved goodbye and got on the bus to rest.
I finished another beer and read two more chapters in my book, getting the distinct impression from the story that the cop was the killer. It kinda pissed me off because from the beginning,the cop was shady as fuck, and it was pretty damn obvious he was a son of a bitch. There wasn’t really any mystery to the story at all.
After stowing my chair in the sleeper cab, I gathered my trash to carry with me, walking down to the hotel a few blocks away to take a leak and get something to eat.
What Clancy said about the band’s winter tour stuck in my head, and I chuckled. Leave it to a stoner—or a group of stoners—to think one of them knew how to fix bad wiring that could have been fixed with a new light bulb.
I had a crab salad and a glass of water, reminding myself I needed to work out before my ass exploded and took up the whole cab of my truck. I usually went for a run in the morning, and I tried to eat right, but driving a truck for a living wasn’t the healthiest profession. I needed to work out a lot harder than I had been.
When I got back to the parking lot across from the venue, people were coming out of the concert venue, signaling the concert was over—or so I hoped. If people were walking out on their performance again, I was sure Kensington would lose his shit, and even worse, Nate would blow his top.
As I climbed into the cab of my truck, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I sat in the driver’s seat and retrieved the device, seeing a text from my uncle.
