pzb.drawingblood-第47章

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　　〃Let's　do　it。〃
　　
　　Trevor　was　standing　at　the　very　center　of　the　dance　floor　when　Gumbo　hit　the　stage。　He　felt　the　crowd　pushing　him　forward；　let　himself　surge　closer　to　Zach。
　　Zach　was　already　smiling　at　the　audience　as　if　he　wanted　to　eat　it　alive。　Calvin　and　R。J。　picked　up　their　guitars；　slung　the　brightly　colored　hippie…weave　straps　over　their　shoulders。　Terry　sat　down；　leaned　forward；　and　spoke　hoarsely　into　the　small　mike　mounted　on　his　drum　set。
　　〃Howdy！　We're　Gumbo！〃　A　spatter　of　whistles　and　applause。　〃Thanks。　You'll　notice　that　tonight　we're　four　instead　of　three。　Say　hello　to　DARIO；　our　special　guest　vocalist　appearing　in　a　limited　engagement　of　one　。　。　。　night　。　。　。　only！〃　A　drumstick　kissed　the　edge　of　a　cymbal。　〃DARIO！　A　genu…wine　Cajun　maniac　straight　from　New　OrLEEENS！〃
　　Over　the　forest　of　waving；　fluttering　hands　thrust　up　by　the　crowd；　Trevor　distinctly　saw　Zach　mouth　the　word　Shit。　But　he　recovered　fast　and　ripped　the　microphone　off　its　stand　as　Terry　gave　the　three…beat　intro　to　the　first　song。　Calvin　unleashed　a　fast…and…dirty　flood　of　guitar　noise；　and　R。J。　backed　him　with　a　bass　line　that　made　Trevor　think　of　wheels　blasting　down　an　open　highway。　Zach　stood　with　the　mike　clutched　to　his　chest；　arched　his　back　and　speared　the　audience　with　his　glittering　eyes。
　　Trevor　thought　Zach　was　looking　straight　at　him　as　he　began　to　sing。
　　In　fact；　Zach　had　left　his　glasses　in　the　dressing　room　and　couldn't　see　much　beyond　the　first　four　rows　of　people。　But　he　could　feel　Trevor　in　the　crowd；　could　feel　a　long　invisible　strand　of　electricity　flowing　between　them；　tapping　into　the　web　that　connected　Zach　with　Terry；　R。J。；　and　Calvin；　sending　tendrils　through　the　audience　and　infecting　them　as　well。　It　was　a　silver…blue　energy；　as　galvanizing　as　a　slug　of　moonshine；　as　effervescent　as　a　champagne　chaser。
　　He　opened　his　mouth　and　felt　the　energy　e　blazing　up　his　spine　as　he　let　the　words　fly。　He　barely　knew　what　he　was　singing；　his　photographic　memory　gave　him　back　the　lyrics　and　his　reptile　brain　translated　them　into　pure　emotion　without　ever　processing　their　meaning。　He　twisted　the　syllables；　stretched　the　long　sounds；　pushed　his　voice　way　down　deep　to　match　the　bass；　then　sang　with　the　guitar；　high　and　hoarse　and　clear。
　　The　crowd　pushed　right　up　to　the　stage。　A　few　kids　up　front　were　already　dancing。　Zach　let　their　movements　tug　at　him；　flow　over　him。　Soon　he　was　dancing　harder　than　any　of　them；　remembering　to　breathe；　keeping　his　voice　strong；　letting　the　music　control　him。
　　The　young　upturned　faces　were　sweaty；　eyes　half…closed；　lips　parted　as　if　in　ecstasy。　This　was　like　making　love　to　an　enormous　roomful　of　people　all　at　once；　like　taking　control　of　all　their　pleasure　centers　and　squeezing　hard。　It　was　his　best　fantasy　gone　one　better。　No　one　was　jealous。　Everyone　was　getting　off；　and　getting　him　off。　And　somewhere　right　in　the　middle　of　it　was　his　one　true　love。
　　〃I　gotta　bad　reaaaaction；〃　he　moaned；　lips　brushing　the　mike；　letting　his　voice　crack　a　little；　thinking　of　Billie　Holiday。　〃Gotta　bad　reaction　to　yoooou　。　。　。　gotta　suck　your　poison　every　night；　gotta　swallow　too　。　。　。〃　He　was　improvising　on　the　lyrics　now　as　the　song　ended。　Calvin　caught　his　eye　and　gave　him　a　very　dark　smile。
　　The　next　number　on　the　set　list　read　simply　〃FUNKY　BLUESJAM。〃　Terry　had　told　him　to　vamp　around；　make　up　his　own　lyrics　if　he　wanted。　His　shirt　was　already　soaked。　He　peeled　it　off　as　the　band　eased　into　a　slow；　sexy　groove。　The　crowd　whistled　and　hooted。　Zach　closed　his　eyes　and　tilted　his　head　back　and　just　stood　swaying　at　center　stage　for　a　long　moment；　leggings　riding　low　on　his　hips；　lights　playing　over　the　sweat　on　his　face　and　chest　and　rib　cage。　Me　felt　them　looking　at　him　and　he　let　them　look。
　　Slowly　he　brought　the　mike　up　and　started　singing　again；　letting　his　voice　skitter　and　scat　over　the　music；　only　gradually　beginning　to　form　whole　words　and　lines。　〃Where　the　bars　never　close　。　。　。　And　the　neon　screams　。　。　。　And　the　smell　of　whiskey　gets　in　your　dreams　。　。　。〃
　　A　boy　was　dancing　front　and　center；　head　thrown　back　in　abandon；　red…gold　hair　shaved　close　on　the　sides　and　spiked　with　sweat；　pale　skin　flushed。　His　eyes　met　Zach's　and　held　them；　almost　defiant。　Zach　knew　that　look；　had　seen　it　plenty　of　times　in　the　Quarter。　It　said；　I　am　as　beautiful　as　you；　and　I　know　it。　The　boy　wore　a　thin　white　T…shirt　and　loose；　low…slung　faded　jeans。　The　edge　of　the　shirt　pulled　up　as　he　danced；　revealing　a　maddening　stretch　of　flat　hairless　belly；　a　heartbreaking　curve　of　hipbone。
　　〃Where　the　gutters　run　red　by　the　break　of　dawn　。　。　。　And　the　boys　get　paler　as　the　night　wears　on　。　。　。〃
　　Suddenly　he　saw　Trevor　in　the　crowd；　not　dancing；　just　standing　still　in　the　sea　of　bodies；　letting　himself　be　jostled；　gazing　up　at　Zach。　His　face　was　intent；　but　calm；　he　was　taking　all　this　in　now　to　be　remembered　and　maybe　drawn　later。　Zach　lost　the　thread　of　his　lyrics；　wailed　and　sobbed　wordlessly　for　a　while。　He　felt　like　a　torch　singer　in　some　smoky　little　dive　in　1929；　high　on　Prohibition　liquor　and　the　reefers　they　were　rolling　backstage。
　　He　gave　Trevor　his　most　smoldering　smile；　put　the　mike　back　on　the　stand　and　ran　his　hands　over　his　face；　through　his　hair。　Trevor　smiled　back　a　little　uneasily；　as　if　afraid　people　would　notice　where　Zach　was　looking。　But　his　gaze　never　wavered。　He　had　to　take　everything　in。　The　artist　as　eyeball；　thought　Zach：　lidless；　as　raw　to　the　touch　as　an　exposed　nerve；　but　seeing　and　processing　all。
　　The　next　couple　of　songs　were　Gumbo　standards　with　a　country…Cajun　flavor。　Zach　whined　his　way　through　them　thinking　of　Hank　and　Patsy　and　Clifton　Chenier；　wishing　he　had　a　bottle　of　bourbon；　a　pair　of　black　steel…toed　cowboy　boots；　and　a　bushel　of　tabasco　peppers。　Terry　whaled　his　skins　without　mercy；　and　R。J。　moved　his　feet　for　the　first　time　that　evening。　Zach　could　tell　this　was　the　stuff　they　really　loved。　They　played　the　blues　fine；　but　they　were　country　boys。
　　Next　came　another　jam；　R。J。　and　Calvin　getting　into　a　riff　that　was　like　something　out　of　an　old　spy　movie；　sinister　and　slinky；　octopussy；　Terry　laughing　behind　the　drums；　striking　up　a　strip…club　beat。　Zach　hung　on　the　microphone；　tilted　his　face　to　the　lights　and　closed　his　eyes。　The　world　was　red　and　gold；　sweat　and　smoke；　pain　and　joyThe　first　set　was　over　too　soon。　Zach　stared　over　at　the　crowd；　unwilling　to　turn　them　loose　even　for　twenty　minutes。　Trevor　caught　his　eye　and　pointed　toward　the　bar。　Zach　held　up　his　open　hand…Be　there　in　five…and　reluctantly　left　the　stage。
　　Entering　the　backstage　room　was　like　walking　into　a　sauna。　The　other　three　musicians　were　as　sweaty　as　Zach；　and　as　buzzed。　The　little　cubicle　was　saturated　with　their　energy。　The　smell　was　like　an　electrical　storm　in　a　locker　room。
　　Terry　slung　an　arm　around　him。　〃Good　show。　Man；　you　really　know　how　to　work　a　crowd。〃
　　〃It　feels　great。〃
　　〃You're　a　natural；〃　R。J。　told　him。　〃Terry　could　sing　'Bad　Reaction'　for　the　rest　of　his　life　and　never　get　'em　riled　up　like　that。〃
　　〃Aw；　fuck　you；〃　said　Terry。　〃I'm　just　a　drummer　working　overtime。　Zach's　a　singer。〃
　　Basking　in　the　praise；　Zach　started　to　grab　a　Natty　Boho；　then　realized　he　had　finished　his　first　one　onstage　and　his　bladder　was　full。　〃Is　there　anywhere　I　can　take　a　piss　back　here　or　do　I　have　to　fight　my　way　to　the　rest　room？〃
　　〃Yeah；　if　you　go　way　back　behind　the　stage；　there's　a　little　bitty　John　in　the　far　corner。　Nobody's　supposed　to　know　about　it　because　it　doesn't　have　a　sink；　but　you　can　piss　there。〃
　　Zach　took　off　in　the　direction　Terry　had　pointed　him。　A　narrow　L…shaped　hall　hooked　away　into　the　bowels　of　the　backstage　area；　virtually　lightless。　Zach　trailed　his　hand　along　the　wall　to　keep　his　bearings。　The　cinder　blocks　felt　cool　and　moist　beneath　his　fingers；　as　if　he　were　descending　into　an　underground　cave。　Eventually　he　came　to　an　open　door；　felt　around　until　he　found　a　light　switch；　and　beheld　the　dankest；　saddest　little　water　closet　he　had　ever　laid　eyes　on。　It　was　clean；　and　that　almost　made　it　worse：　a　bathroom　this　desolate　needed　roaches　and　mildew　to　liven　it　up。　He　hated　to　imagine　Kinsey　back　here　scrubbing　the　toilet。
　　Zach　peeled　his　leggings　down。　The　stream　of　pee　sounded　very　loud　going　into　the　rusty　water；　and　he　realized　his　ears　were　ringing。　As　he　readjusted　himself；　a　knock　sounded　at　the　door。　I　bet　I　know　who　that　is；　Zach　thought。
　　〃Yeah？〃
　　〃It's　Calvin。〃
　　Bing！　You　win　the　trip　to　Acapulco　and　the　set　of　steak　knives　too。　He　opened　the　door　a　crack　and　saw　a　sparkling　eye；　a　shock　of　bleached　hair；　half　of　a　grinning　mouth。
　　〃Just　wanted　to　see　if　you　were　done。　I　gotta　go　too。〃
　　Zach　let　Calvin　in　and　turned　to　leave。　Calvin　stepped　right　up　to　the　toilet；　tugged　his　pants　down；　and　let　fly。　Huh；　Zach　thought；　so　he　really　did　have　to　piss。
　　But　as　Zach　was　halfway　out　the　door；　Calvin　said；　〃Hey；　Dario？〃
　　〃Yeah？〃
　　〃That　was　a　fuckin'　brilliant　set。　You　look　great　onstage。〃
　　〃Aw　hell；　I　just　like　to　sing。　You　guys　are　the　musicians。〃
　　〃Yeah；　right。　You're　about　as　humble　as　me。〃　Calvin　flushed　the　toilet；　pulled　his　leggings　up　to　a　point　just　above　the　line　of　his　pubic　hair；　then　turned　and　in　one　smooth　motion　grabbed　Zach　and　pinned　him　against　the　wall。　His　chest　pressed　against　Zach's；　slick　with　sweat。　His　hands　slid　up　Zach's　rib　cage　and　his　thumbs　grazed　Zach's　bare　nipples；　then　tweaked　them　gently。　Zach　found　himself　instantly；　crazily　aroused。
　　Calvin's　lips　brushed　Zach's。　〃Do　you　want　this　as　bad　as　I　do？〃　he　whispered。
　　〃Well…yeah；　but…〃
　　Calvin's　mouth　closed　over　his；　hot　and　lush；　full　of　the　golden　taste　of　beer。　His　tongue　slid；　searched；　teased　its　way　into　Zach's　mouth。　For　several　seconds　they　kissed　with　sloppy　abandon。　Calvin's　unshaven　face　scoured　him；　abraded　him。　It　would　leave　scratches。　Zach　didn't　care。
　　He　felt　Calvin's　hips　nudging　against　his　own；　Calvin's　dick　getting　hard　against　him；　pushing　into　his　bare　stomach。　Almost　automatically；　Zach　moved　his　hips　so　that　their　hardons　were　pressed　together；　separated　only　by　two　thin　layers　of　cotton。　The　concrete　wall　was　rough　and　cool　against　his　back。　The　noise　of　the　club　was　a　dull　subliminal　roar　far　away。
　　He　suddenly　wondered　why　in　hell　he　was　doing　this。
　　The　question　was　jarring。　It　made　him　realize　that　since　the　moment　he'd　said　yeah；　but　and　Calvin　had　stopped　his　mouth　with　a　kiss；　he　hadn't　had　a　single　thought　in　his　head。　Not　for　Trevor；　not　for　himself；　not　for　anything　but　his　own　damned　mindless　pleasure。　Zach　knew　he　had　often　used　sex　like　a　drug。　But　until　now；　he'd　never　consciously　known　that　he　used　it　to　make　himself　stop　thinking。
　　The　shame　of　that　knowledge　washed　over　him　like　a　caustic　wave。　But　on　its　crest　came　a　second　realization。　Being　with　Trevor　didn't　make　him　feel　that　way；　didn't　short…circuit　his　thought　processes　or　cut　off　his　emotions。　When　they　made　love　Zach's　perceptions　intensified　and　his　consciousness　seemed　to　expand。　Before；　fucking　had　always　been　like　slamming　a　door　on　the　world。　With　Trevor　it　was　like　opening　a　thousand　doors。
　　And　that　meant　he　wasn't　getting　anything　here　that