Before we got out of the cab, I put my arm around Will’s shoulder. “You’re an amazing musician.”
He turned to face me. “There are record execs here to see me tonight… It’s unnerving.” He swallowed and shook his head slightly.
“You’re gonna do great, I promise.” He looked at me like what I said was the gospel.
We grabbed the instruments and headed toward the stage, both of us a little apprehensive.
Right away I spotted Sheil backstage, gracefully running the show. She was dressed in a gorgeous maroon and gold sari and her long, shiny black hair was woven into a perfect braid running down her back. When she spotted us, her face lit up and her mouth curled into a warm smile. She came over and kissed Will on the cheek before taking my face in her hands. “My darling, I’m so glad you’re here.” Sheil could say nothing and everything with just a look. She made you feel like the only person in the world. She turned to Will and asked if he would accompany her with his electric guitar on another song and they chatted about the details.
When Sheil left, Will turned to me. “Okay, we’re doing our song last, so be thinking about which one you want to do, okay, baby?” I nodded.
There was a whole slew of musicians standing around backstage and it seemed like Will knew everyone. He was in his element; his nerves calmed as the passion came out. I tagged along from group to group while he discussed specifics about different styles of music. It seemed like every other person thanked him for helping out with a song or a recording. It was becoming clear to me that Will was well-known and respected within that community of eclectic musicians.
When it was time for the opening number, Will and four other men took their places in a line of chairs at the front of the stage. Sheil came out and gave a short speech about stringed instruments and the passionate musicians that the audience would see that night. She introduced the five men as talented artists who would be playing a medley of varying styles. Will had a dulcimer across his lap; the other men had assorted guitar-like instruments. As the show began, I stood offstage in the shadows, completely absorbed by the sound, where I decided that playing the guitar should be a prerequisite for manhood.
I looked out to the audience made up of a large group standing near the stage. Farther back were scattered blankets and people in lawn chairs. The lights from the stage projected on the faces in the audience, creating a magical ambience. Listening to the sweet sounds in the warm summer night air was enchanting. Will was unyielding on the dulcimer as the group played a familiar bluegrass tune reminiscent of my father. A lump started forming in my throat when I thought about Pops and the discovery I had made earlier that day, yet my pride for Will’s performance was greater. He played with such ease, but with thorough focus and respect for the sound. It was as though he was paying homage to the instrument as his hands moved gracefully over the strings. Another act went to the stage as Will came running toward me.
“That was amazing!” I said as I opened my arms for a hug. He hesitated a beat and appraised me before hoisting me up with his free arm and hugging me.
“Thanks, baby. Those guys are rad,” he said, gesturing to the four men he performed with.
“Everything is rad,” I said, poking him in the belly.
He looked down at his shirt and back up at me. “I know, right?”