Suzie’s House 304 : The Real Reason They Went to the Show

“Come on. It’s time.” Bruce got up as soon as the band took their first bows. He wanted to get the entire crew into the alley behind the theater before the encores started.

Not counting Tracy – who they left sitting there – there were eight of them at the show today. That should be more than enough to make his uncle happy. All of them stood up and followed Bruce. Word must have gotten around what he did to any slackers.

They walked out the front, then had to go to the end of the block to get around back because there weren’t any gaps between buildings. By the time they arrived at the loading dock, the band was already getting into a limo, headed for the hotel. Bruce did a quick head-count. All eight were there.

Uncle John looked pissed off, but he didn’t say anything. He just waved them all over.

“Here they are. Just like I told you,” he said to a balding, beer-bellied guy in a black T-shirt and black jeans.

“Kind of small, aren’t they? Didn’t you say they were in high school?”

“They’re Freshmen,” Uncle John lied without missing a beat. “So we’ll leave a couple of the roadies here to watch over everything. You do want to party, don’t you?”

“Yeah. All right. But if anything gets broken or goes missing I’ll make sure your career as a promoter comes to a grizzly demise.”

“Yeah, sure. Not a problem.” Uncle John waved Bruce and his crew into the building. “It’s all about cooperation. Right?” He gave the roadie his Hollywood smile, which probably meant he expected to move a lot of drugs tonight.

Bruce didn’t care. As soon as he and the rest were back stage, he got to business.

“Who are we working with,” he asked the fat roadie.

“He’s a bit terse, but he works well,” Uncle John grinned at the roadie, then glared at Bruce.

“Heh. No, I like that. The kid’s all right.” The roadie threw a beefy arm over Bruce’s shoulders, and guided him toward a couple of grim-faced men in the crew.

Bruce caught himself sneering, and quickly wiped the expression from his face. He had to be on his best behavior for the next few hours if he expected to make any connections tonight. Plus, if Uncle John caught the look on his face, it would be a lot harder to use him for his big come back.

Not that he couldn’t do it all on his own. He’d been helping Uncle John for years. So now he knew a lot of people. Unluckily, a lot of people knew him too, and that wasn’t turning out so good.

So he nodded and shook hands, and would show them all he knew his way around a stage, didn’t mind hauling heavy equipment, and could keep his crew in line.

“He’s going to help with the loading,” the fat roadie said to the other two. “While the rest of us… step out for a bit.”

The other two shared an unhappy look, and straightened up. “Wait…”

“Consider it a temporary promotion.” The boss patted one of them on the shoulder. “I’ll leave it up to you.” He waved over a couple of people, said something to them, then headed for the loading dock.

Word spread quickly. People flooded the back door, and Uncle John was right in the middle of them.

“Hey!” Bruce shouted at his uncle, running to catch up. “Pay up front.”

“What do you mean?” He stopped by the door and looked cagey one minute, all smiling and nodding the next.

“Last time you stiffed me. I gotta pay my guys, right? So this time you fork it over first.”

“I already gave you the tickets, didn’t I?”

“To Passion Pit? You’ve got to be kidding.” Hadn’t they talked about this a week ago when he’d only found a couple of guys willing to do the work for just a ticket to tonight’s show?

“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Do I look that lame? The guys are expecting tickets to Skillet. You got them, right? Don’t leave me hanging here, Unc’.”

Uncle John glanced around all nervous like while the roadies who were going partying with him walked past.

“Look. I don’t have any yet. I’ll get them to you later.”

“Fine. Then give me the charm.” Bruce stuck his hand out. “Or give me enough money to pay everyone.”

He kept his hand out until his uncle gave in and handed him a St. Christopher’s medal. With a grin, Bruce pocketed it. No matter what, Uncle John would collect it later. It was his most prized possession.

Muttering something nasty under his breath, they guy took off. Now to get to work. Bruce took half a dozen steps to where his crew waited, then stopped cold.

Tracy had just come in from the wings.

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