Roseberry, July 1996
MJ stepped up all right!!!
She relishes a toothy grin. Doesn’t care if she greets guests—REI-types from Boise toting coolers, McCall socialites with wine packs and cheese boards, and every hippie from the long valley—looking like a maniacal Little House on the Prairie girl. Guests are paying $40 a head like it’s nothing. And they keep coming.
She helped make THIS happen! The First Annual Roseberry Music Festival!!!
The big red barn—gorgeous in its stage renovation and fresh paint—backs her. She faces the larger-than-life stage, literally it’s 10-feet high, away from guests picking grassy spots to listen, and MJ wipes sun-sparkly tears. She laughs: It’s so damn hot her tears are as hot as tea. The Historical Society ladies were right: July swelters.
On the lawn, folks disrobe and slather sunblock. They don hats, wild ridiculous hats in some cases. A woman in a long white sundress floats through. A man with a belly starts dancing to an inner tune. Couples with sunhat babies bounce in back. Behind stage, bluegrass and jazz bands from all over the US organize their gear. And food trucks, all local, start rolling out pulled pork, beer, and nachos.
Beside MJ, Lucky Nash leans over. His lanyard swings out to tag her. Kissing her on the neck just below the jaw, his bare muscled arm drapes casually around her waist.
He pulls her in. “What’s up, MJ?”
MJ smiles at her lover. “I never thought I’d see this day. I think I’m nervous!”
MJ’s breath catches. Her mouth spreads in a wide exhalation. Finally, she’s arrived out of her past. Her eyes flicker, the briefest moment, to Aunt K’s rose hedge lining one side of the concert area. A couple’s soft plaid blanket cozies up next to the dead.
“It’s all good.” Lucky tosses a look to a wandering man in a suit. He’s got dark sunglasses like an FBI agent. “Worry is a debt one pays that they don’t owe.”
The cry of a sound check rings the azure sky.
“Welcome to Roseberry!!!” A radio personality announces over the big speakers.
The crowd, swelling exponentially in numbers by the minute, roars.
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