Page 13 of Baby Blue
Blue could feel his heartbeat start to pick up, and his hands involuntarily fisted. “Shut the fuck up, man. I’ve had just about all I can take. If you want to keep being a shit, I can?”
“Whoa-whoa-whoa!” Devon yelled and stepped between Blue and Gary. He turned toward Gary. “Shut the fuck up and get your ass inside,” he said, pointing toward the door. “I don’t want to hear another word.” Gary snarled, then turned and stalked off, unwilling to challenge the ex-MMA fighter. “You okay?” the huge man asked as he turned back to Blue.
“Yeah. Thanks, but I could’ve handled it,” Blue said, feeling his heartbeat starting to slow.
“But you can’t take care of a baby from inside a jail cell. And don’t pay any attention to that asshole. Is there anything I can do to help?” Devon asked, and Blue was shocked.
“N-n-n-no,” he stuttered, unable to believe that somebody like Devon would offer to help him. “I mean, I don’t know what it would be. I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to work andhave somebody keep the baby. I mean, I don’t have any relatives or anything.”
Blue was even more surprised when Devon clapped a hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “Well, if you think of something, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll do what I can. I don’t know much about babies, but I’d give it a whirl if you needed me.”
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. If I think of something, I’ll let you know.”
“Guess we’d better get back inside, huh? We’ve got two more sets before the night’s over. God knows you need the money now!” Devon said and stepped to open the door, holding it open so Blue could make his way inside. The whole trip up the back hallway, Blue’s head reeled. He had friends he’d never known he had. The day had been full of surprises, and this was just the latest.
During their next break he started to call Anne, then realized it was almost midnight. She probably wouldn’t appreciate that, and he wouldn’t blame her. He took his beer and made his way out into the alley to stand in the cool night air. In less than a minute, the door opened and Devon joined him, taking a smoke and making small talk. Byron came out too, and the three men stood and joked for a few minutes before going back inside for the last set. Gary had apparently taken his break outside the front door, and he joined them in a minute, being careful not to let his gaze meet Blue’s eyes.
The last half of the last set was their original music. Devon had written a song six months before that sounded a lot like something Ed Sheeran would sing, and he’d surprised them with his voice?it was unbelievably good. Gary had one that sounded like a Ray LaMontagne song, and everybody seemed to like it. Byron didn’t sing, and he didn’t write, so that was that for him.
But Blue had been writing songs for as long as he could remember. Well, in reality, he’d been writing poetry. A teacher had suggested it to him years before to help him get his feelings out and deal with them, and he’d been writing ever since. He had boxes full of scraps of paper with little phrases written on them, or pages with random poems written with whatever writing instrument he had at the moment. The song he’d worked on for the last six months was called “What I’d Do For Her,” and the guys had told him that, between the song and his voice, it made them think of KeithUrban. Blue wasn’t sure about that?he hadn’t listened to much of Urban’s music?but the song was good, sweet and bluesy with just enough passion to pack a punch. He knew that much. When Devon turned to him and asked if he wanted to do it, Blue nodded. They’d practiced it three or four times, and the changes were easy to follow, so they wouldn’t have any trouble.
Devon started it, and Blue was surprised to see that he’d obviously been practicing a little riff specifically for the song. It was impressive, to say the least, and Blue decided to give it all he had. The riff cascaded downward and ended, and Blue leaned into the microphone.
If she asked me to,
I’d pull the stars from the sky,
Build a castle treetop high,
Write her name in the sand.
If she asked me to,
I’d give her the moon,
Make every month June,
Stop the river with my bare hands.
And what I’d do for her
Is everything,
Everything,
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
And what I’d do for her
Is everything,
Everything,
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do.
Blue hitthe second verse and let loose. As he sang, he could feel all the tension from the day slipping away, just dissolving, and he forged ahead like his life depended on it. When the last note faded away, what had been a tired, mostly drunk bar full of people were suddenly whistling, cheering, and clapping. He felt like he was waking from a dream, and he heard Devon say, “Shit, Blue, you nailed it! That was incredible!”
Blue was stunned. “Thanks, man.”
