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LYNN
Well, well. Isn't this amusing. Angie and Jonathan, sitting in a tree. Something is going on here, or it will soon. "Hey," I said, "I hate to interrupt this special moment, but Jonathan, do you have a car?"
Angie broke eye contact first, but Jonathan lingered before answering the question. "I don't have a car, but the band lets me borrow the van if I need it. If you need a ride somewhere..?"
I dashed in and said, "Yeah, we really do," at the same time that Angie nodded. "We got stranded here a few hours ago, and could really use a lift back to the school." I tugged on his sleeve. "Please, Jon?"
Angie looked at him too. "Yes, could you?"
"Uh, sure. I can't say no to my old friend, and to my new one." His face softened. "But you'll have to wait a bit, I have to do my job first. In fact," he looked behind him at the still-assembled drum kit. "I really should get back to it right now. Can you wait?"
Angie answered for us, "Yes, we'll wait," and I nodded.
----
A little while later we were still waiting for him. The bar atmosphere had changed, though. The college kids, the ones that had filled up the audience from earlier had moved to the front by the bar, and the tables were now dotted with older folks. Working-class people, mostly. Men and women drank cheap beers with tired faces and slumped shoulders. In the opposite corner from us, three guys had started a shouting match over shots. The music on the jukebox had shifted, too. I heard the Allman brothers and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Nothing from after 1980.
"I hope we can get out of here soon." I commented to Angie. We were holding our coats in our arms and trying to not draw attention in our spot on the wall, close to the stage. "This place is starting to feel like a real bar. And that waitress, the one working the tables?" I pointed. "She was definitely giving me a look a few minutes ago. I think... either she wants us to order a drink, or she wants us to leave." I leaned in close to Angie and said softly, "You know that the second she asks us for ID we're going to get kicked out of here."
She was watching Jonathan pack up the instruments, so it took her a long second to reply. "Huh, what? Sure. It looks like they are almost done. Sorry, I was distracted."
"Hmm, yeah I can tell." I gave her a quick smile, but Angie's look had turned serious.
"So, Lynn? I want to ask you something."
"Sure, what's up?"
"Are you going to apologize to Kanu?"
"Huh?" I asked. "No, I can't. I mean I..I won't. Not yet. But how about that music, huh?"
Angie frowned, but said, "Okay, sure, let's put it off for a bit. The music? Right. I had a question about that, too. Can you explain to me why everyone was leaving during that last song? Was it bad? What did you think of it?"
I considered for a moment, then said, "There was something definitely wrong with it, although I didn't see what you saw, the people leaving." I shook my head. "I'm not surprised, though. It didn't sound like they were playing together."
"Oh, okay but..." then Angie interrupted herself, and seemed to stand up straighter. "Hi Jonathan," she said, "Are you guys done?"
I saw Jonathan too, and grabbed my purse. I glanced at the crowd and said with urgency, "Yeah, can we get out of here?"
Jonathan, who had taken off his bandanna, tossed his head and pushed his hair back with his hand. "Yeah, sure," he drawled. I suppose he's trying to be sexy, for Angie's sake. I tried not to giggle. He asked me, "What was that you said, who wasn't playing together?"
"Oh, nothing," I replied. "Where are you parked?"
"Your limo awaits, ladies." He swept his arm down in a low bow, making Angie giggle. "We'll go out the side entrance, it's closer." He turned, and we followed him as he maneuvered around the tables, climbed the stage, then opened a door on the left.
Stepping through, a long hallway stretched in front of us. It had many side doors and a lone bulb hanging on a long chain, with a guitar pick dangling off the end. We marched past the doors, which were dressing rooms or storage, I supposed, and arrived at the exit. This door, like the entrance to the bar, was big and heavy and made of wood. Jonathan pushed it open and held it as we walked underneath his arm, then we stepped outside. The wind hit us fast like a slap in the face, hard and cold, making us put on our coats quickly.
We were now standing in a gusty alley next to the bar, which didn't quite blow away the strong smell coming from green metal-frame dumpster to our right, and some garbage bags which were lining the alley wall to our left.
Jonathan grunted a little as he pushed the door shut, then barked over a gust of wind, "Just give me a second, I'll pull the van up." We watched him walk away, then looked at each other and held our noses.
"That's some serious stink!" I said.
"What did they throw out here, a dead body?" said Angie.
Her comment made me look at the garbage pile, and then look again. "Oh, oh no." I walked fast, directly toward the smelliest spot. "I'll go check it out," I called over my shoulder, "You wait here, I'll be right back."
Angie skipped to catch up. "Hey, why are you looking at garbage? It's bar trash, right? Lynn?"
I ran, then came to a sharp halt right in front of the pile of trash bags.
Sticking out of the bags were a pair of red boots. Considering the stink and the mess, they were oddly clean. Angie said, "Lynn, what is it?"
No. No it couldn't be. I was just staring at the boots. Then I reached down and grabbed one of the black plastic bags with my hands, and lifted it aside to reveal a young man lying on the ground. His face was streaked with dirt and caked with blood, and he was unconscious. It looked like he'd been in a fight with the wrong end of a baseball bat.
"Jim! Jim! I can't believe it!" I knelt down, to see if he was alright.
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Janet
good job. I don't think she yelped. I think she gasped