Rock Stars Wear White Socks Too!

By Dannette Genasci

Trevor Riggs has already had a dream of a lifetime that not many get to do. Stand up on that stage and sing to those out in the audience screaming his name. But times had changed. You cant stop growing older
Michelle looked at this man that she had met the day before. Alone except for family; no security around. She had remembered that he had retired from that circus of Rock and Roll a few years earlier. Trev stirred his tea. "Well, just FYI, that's just one part. That part now days is little and circumstantial. There's a lot more... to me than just that one part. I'm bones, organs, and flesh... I'm as human as anyone else. I possess no super powers- no more wearing spandex! They laughed. People tend to not see that. That's why it's so hard to meet anybody. They get hung up so bad on that one part." His thoughts suddenly drifted. I remember back on how magical it was. If I had it to do over, I wouldn't change a thing. He hesitated, I want them to love me, for me, not for who I used to be. Will Trevor get back to the normalcy he longs for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499016536

Dannette Genasci

To take you back in time. To imagine what it was like. The songs are the outline. My words are the colors of emotion that I painted in. My name is Dee Genasci. I live in the Midwest along with my husband and two sons. I love photography, to horseback ride, to swim, to travel and to write fiction stories.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Dannette Genasci.

Cover photo starring Doug Osborne in WHITE SOCKS and Othello.

Cover photo courtesy of Anita Jill Osborne aka Gypsy Jill.

Library of Congress Control Number:      2014908514

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4990-1654-3

     Softcover      978-1-4990-1655-0

     eBook      978-1-4990-1653-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/07/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

619175

Contents

5 guys and a tru… . uh no, and a Rock and Roll Band.

Panty Raid!

Caught up…

Why have you abandoned me?

End of the Road Antics…

Surviving a 3rd strike…

The Day… after, . . . the music, DIED.

My shoe got stuck, and a wedding broke out!!!!

His eyes…

Until then

I Love Panties…

Hair…

Trev… On The Mr. Freeze Rollercoaster

Eyes of the Omega Wolf…

Dear John/Obsession Versus True Love… 1

Dear John/Obsession Versus True Love… 2

It’s just a bit of rain…

The Red Coat is coming…

Unplanned admittance…

Unplanned Admittance Part 3

In The Blink of an Eye…

Missing…

Rock and Roll Claus…

Mistletoe… or Bust! Rock and Roll Claus 2…

Rock and Roll Claus 3…

Across the Genre and Generations…

For your eyes only…

Kiss, Kiss

Squeezes

Sweet Love

Gypsy’s Kiss, Kiss

Sweet Love

Xoxo

True Love…

Just A Joke

First, a disclaimer. These characters are FICTIONAL.

Any likeness is a possibility for it may have happened with

any of the bands of the time and should be seen as a form of

flattery. No harm or thoughts of harm were intended.

DEE, JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR

CREATIVE AND HARD WORK. YOUR STORIES ARE

AN ESCAPE FOR ME. IT’S DIFFICULT TO LIVE WITH

CHRONIC PAIN, AND WITH YOUR STORIES, I AM

ALLOWED TO ESCAPE INTO A WORLD OF LOVE,

LAUGHTER AND HOPE. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR ALL

THAT YOU’VE GIVEN SO FREELY TO US, YOUR FANS.

JENNIFER K.M.

On a Monday evening, just before midnight (January 1991), I

turned the key to the apartment door. The short gal who peeked

out of the bedroom would be my roommate for the next 13

weeks in the Sunshine State. We have sustained our friendship

& we have shared countless adventures over the past 23+ years.

We still have plenty more expeditions & voyages to pursue.

My, how the time has flown by . . . our very first adventure together

was a concert in St Petersburg featuring: Garth Brooks, Alabama,

the Judds, Sawyer Brown, KT Oslin + many more >> an absolute

blast & fabulous music. That cold Floridian night (at 3am) was

the beginning of so many memories & so much fun. Another

excursion took us across the state to Cape Canaveral to watch

the Space Shuttle take off . . . Our travels together would take up

quite a few more volumes (gonna choose to save them for later.)

Some of our most exciting trips were planned along the way—someone

would yell road trip—that was our cue to just hop in the car, take

off & see where we might land for the night. We have a multitude of

funny stories to reminisce upon as we rendezvous across the USA . . .

Of course, we may also have had some bloopers along the

way . . . lost keys at a waterfall, a speeding ticket in the middle

of the night when we were looking for a hotel room . . . We have

arrived at the Big 50 haha . . . >> Should we start planning for

our next journey . . . or just devise a retirement option?? . . .

We vowed to work our way across the USA as travel nurses. We

have meandered thru the 50 states… oops… except she is missing

ND but she has a plan to remedy that very soon. She’s a city girl

living in the country on a farm with all her guys & horses (RIP

Joker—the Appaloosa that spent 30 years with her ) . . . . she even

rode in a Pony Express in Wyoming. 2 ½ days, 465 miles all

on horseback to deliver the mail to Cheyenne Frontier days.

Dee is a wife (muffin to Matt—her husband) & a Mom to 2

young men(Tyler & Drew), She is a cancer survivor, & has

persevered through months of chemotherapy . . . She was a Den

mother for the cub scouts & has been on a few scout camping

trips . . . too bad one of them ended in surgery when she slipped

in the mud & broke her leg . . . (added a rod, plate & some

screws) She even tried a little stand-up comedy with singing &

dancing (did she really wear a turkey costume??) . . . Her latest

undertaking is that of an aspiring author to these short stories

that kept her going—day after day . . . . week after week . . .

Grab this book of short stories, pour a drink, sit back, relax, &

enjoy the journey . . . complete with the thrills & spills, sand

& surf, mountains & valleys, rivers & oceans . . . as she traverses

life with excitement & enthusiasm . . . . there are sneaks &

peeks throughout these stories of her life experiences. They are

therapy into her soul… as the music plays on . . . can you feel

the spirit . . . everyone is invited to share the grand adventures

as each page is turned & every new chapter is released . . .

get caught up in the sensational intrigue & drama…

My message to you: Don’t Stop Believin’ . . . . Girlfriend!

Gypsy J—Jill Osborne

5 GUYS AND A TRU… .

UH NO, AND A ROCK

AND ROLL BAND.

This started years ago. Lying in bed, not able to sleep, I’d make up stories in my head involving my favorite characters of the time. I often laid there wondering if anybody else ever did the same, and how much fun it would be to collaborate. I couldn’t be the only one, could I? I’ve tried writing paragraphs down on paper, but found it too cumbersome. I grew impatient in the arrangement process, feeling I was wasting ink and paper. Not finishing one, I gave it up. Came up with a song once, with no melody. My mind always reverts to previous melodies. And I find I want to stick more words in it that I should, the idea of giving the listeners a hint to what the song is about and letting them form their own pictures in their mind, just doesn’t jive with me. I want to color in the pictures for them. But both song and story allows the reader to escape from life temporarily, which is what I offer with my stories.

My stories, I admit are based on a certain groups and their lead singer… But with that said, allow me to offer a breakdown…

• 30% of the contents are gathered from facts that are public knowledge already. It’s nothing new.

• 30% of it is my imagination, what I thought would or could happen. Fiction. Made up, not real. It covers comedy, sweetness and suspense. I do not slander. My suspense stories always have happy endings.

• 40% . . . . is me. I put a lot of myself in these stories. Read between the lines again—you’ll get a feeling for who I am. I’ve used a lot of my own experiences and feelings for his thoughts and feelings. It’s me. Putting myself into his head. Kind of scary in there!

Again, my sincere THANKS to those I listed in Book 1. These 3 books would have been 1 continuous book had I not had over 2000 pages. Would have been a big book! Better to break them into a trilogy with a limit of 700 pages. Take your time—hope you enjoy.

PANTY RAID!

It was 1996, Trev, Joey, and Dave had just concluded their satellite interview with KMIX radio in Houston. Leaving out the back door of the office building, all three were still dealing with infectious giggles. Dave commented That had to be one of the funniest interviews I’ve ever done! Joey added Where the heck did they come up with those questions! Trev tried to comment… . couldn’t. All he could do was brace himself with his hands on his car with his head down. He was losing it once again. His long hair hiding the tears that were streaming down his face. When he caught his breath enough to speak, he wiped at his eyes and interjected… . Why is it I get all the rid… . rid… . (he couldn’t finish for the giggles returned… .). Frustrated with himself, he cleared his throat and desperately tried to shove the emotion deep inside himself… . not having much luck doing so. Da***it! Ridiculous questions? His statement veering off into more giggles. Both Dave and Joey laughing themselves, concluded at the same time, It’s because your still single… . a Bachelor… . and heck, (Dave and Joey looked at each other) . . . . CHICKS DIG HIM! That resulted in another round of all out laughter between the three brothers.

It was at a point that all had settled, but then they would look at each other… . and it would start up again. Trev looked at Joey and said weakly… and you want to go to Dave’s today and work on some tracks. I think… . Not! heheheheheheheh I aint gonna be worth much, I can tell ya this right now. They paused for air. Then Trev snickered, . . . . Hey Dave… . OLA! (Trev starts to sing, rather badly… .) Someday love did find you, THERE… . break those HANDCUFFS that bind you, the ending of which Trev goes off in a high pitch shrill of a giggle! Joey loses it. Dave goes after Trev, messing up his hair and clasping his hand over Trev’s mouth. Trev tries to struggle away from Dave’s assault by twisting his head away and trying to pull Dave’s hands away from his face. They all stand there, holding on to each other, frozen with laughter.

Well, the three of them stood out by their vehicles for about another 1/2 hour, for the most part totally beyond help. They kept rehashing the interview. And then they were doing their best Stooges impressions.

Nyuk, Nyuk, Nyuk!heheheh!

Hey Moe!heheheh!

Shaddup!heheheheh!

.65, in a hurry, TWICE!!hehehehehehe

Soitenly!hehehehehehe!

I resemble that!heheheheheheheh!

Woo, Wooo, Wooooo!heheheheheh!

Remind me to moider you later!heheheheheheh!

Trev was still so giddy, he broke into song again, the song being full on knock knock jokes! Ok, really it’s part of me. But my idea with this story is to make it as fun as possible. I think we all need a summer pick me up and a laugh. If I could, I’d sing it to you personally. Come join me at Camp, or at our Annual Hayride/Bonfire! Besides, I don’t want to get to the main plot too fast.

For those of you feeling a little down… .

Stay on the sunny side

stay on the sunny side

stay on the sunny side of life, Heeeee Hawwwww,

you will suffer no pain

as I drive you insane

so stay on the sunny side of life.

Knock knock

who’s there?

Ether

Ether who

Ether bunny!

(chorus)

Knock, knock

who’s there?

Nother

Nother who

Nother ether bunny!

(chorus)

Knock knock

who’s there?

Stella

Stella who

Stella nother ether bunny!

(chorus… . heheheheheheheheheheheheheh)

Knock, Knock

who’s there?

Consumption

Consumption who

Consumption be done about all the ether bunnies?!

(chorus)

Knock knock

who’s there

Cargo

Cargo who

Cargo beep beep and run over all the ether bunnies!

(heheheheheheheh… . chorus)

Knock knock

who’s there

Boo

Boo Who

Don’t cry, the ether bunnies will be back next year!

(chorus)

Knock knock

who’s there

Orange

Orange who

Orange you glad its almost over!

(chorus)

Knockknock

who’s there

Dishes

Dishes who

Dishes the end! Taa daaa!

SOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooo… .

Well, it took the three of them another hour or so to settle enough to drive. In the meantime, they had a few cars drive by, their drivers staring at them as if they had gone totally insane. Trev said How the heck are we supposed to work today? Joey said, laughing slightly, I don’t think we can. Dave—Nope, I’m done for, . . . . but we still have the meeting set up at the house with Eric, Kenny and Irving at 2 o’clock. Hey, I got an idea. Go get your swim suits. We’ll just turn it into a pool party. Wives, kids, . . . . (he turned to Trev) . . . . girlfriends, but she gets to wear the panties! . . . .No, don’t start! Trev cries. So they go their separate ways to meet up later at Dave’s.

In the meantime, a call is made by Dave to Eric and Kenny with a plan in mind.

1pm… . One by one, they start to arrive at Dave’s. All arriving early, with the exception of Trev. For they need the time to put… . the plan in place.

"We’ll put one here… .

we’ll put one in here… .

Oh, how about here… . this would be a good spot… .

looks perrrrrfect Kenny… .

this is gonna be sooooo good!

Hey, keep all those in there… .

Save those for when we get in the pool… .

Do you have any scotch tape or thumb tack?

Hey, no holes in my studio wall!

How about string… . do you have any?

Yeah, (Dave says), I have some in the garage. Be right back… .

Oh yeah… . hehehehehe… . they’ll be cold in there… .

Got to have one here!

Yeah… . we do!

Dave returns from the garage with a ball of string. Behind him enters Karen along with Joanne (Eric’s wife), Donna (Kenny’s wife), Gina (Joey’s wife) and Ken Astro, their manager and his wife. Upon entering the studio, well… . let’s just say the mood changes. And they all work feverishly to finish the job at hand. Then… . they wait.

1:53… . 23 seconds, P.M. California time. Everybody’s in position. They hear from afar a big Ford diesel 1 ton dually truck lumbering up the gravel drive. (Sorry, we have this only a Dodge version… . and I love how it sounds. Fun to drive… I feel the power when I drive it, especially with the 28 ft Flatbed behind it! Full of 10 1000 lb. round bales, people do tend to get out of my way! RRRRrrrr RRRRRrrrr!) Ok, I’m getting off on the truck when I should be getting off on Trev. What’s wrong with this picture! But he’s driving the truck with the stereo going, with the jeans and cool sunglasses. Ok, now I’m getting that Trev image in my mind. Yes… . Aaaaaaahhhhh! Ok, serious it up!

As Trev drives past the studio, the windows reflect the shadow of the big truck and causes the building to shake slightly. He parks in on the side of Dave’s house and heads for the studio. Dave steps out the door of the studio… . Hey, were in here!

Ok, be there in a minute.

Everybody inside the studio can hardly stand it! You can almost swear you can hear everybody’s heartbeats!

Trev makes his way towards the studio.

50 feet.

24 feet.

12 feet.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, Oh shoot, forgot something! S**t! Trev runs back to the truck!

He grabs what he needs from the truck.

Everybody inside the studio is like Where is he… . ? Dave laughs… . He went back to the truck to get something. From somewhere in the room… . God knows where, you hear Joey… . Riggs, D***it, if you don’t get your A** in here! %$^&%&! Everybody tells Joey SSSSShhhhhhh! Eric says to Joey Joey, don’t get YOUR PANTIES IN A WAD! . . . resulting in almost hysterical laughter! Ever body is trying so hard not to lose it totally. Kenny starts quietly up with Stooges imitations. The wives are laughing. Irving is rolling his eyes, wondering what the H**L he has gotten himself into, agreeing to be their manager. He at this point is rethinking this decision. Dave yells under his breath… OK, be quiet… . here he comes, here he comes… . come to papa! Everybody comments… . PAPA?. The door opens.

To be continued?

No… . I wouldn’t do that to you!

Trev steps inside, and sees all the decorations! If you call it DECORATIONS! He gets a chance to vocalize TWO words… . OH GOD! before… . PANTY RAID!

Panties start to fly… . sail… . fling… . flung… . whip around… . shoot… . pitch… . flutter… . and a whole bunch of other adjectives! All… . aimed… . at… . TREV.

He turns to try and escape, to no avail!

And like Dr Seuss… . there are blue ones… . and green ones. There are soft ones, and rough ones… . and lacy ones… . and ones with attachments? . . . . and there are ones with holes… . and red ones… . and orange ones… . and ones with pictures on them… . and beaded ones… . and there’s even old lady ones (OMG) . . . . and there is shiny ones… . and black velvety ones… . and there are see through ones… . and flowered ones… . and there are Harley Davidson black leather ones (Trev eyeballs that one hungrily as it whizzes by his head) . . . . and thong ones… . and fringe ones… . and purple ones… . and glow in the dark ones… . and fuzzy ones… . and silky ones… . and edible ones—EDIBLE ONES! (HE CATCHES THAT ONE)! It’s like one big PANTY FOOD FIGHT! From behind him, Eric and Kenny appear with a big laundry basket full of panties, and they proceed to dump it over Trev’s head. Trev ends up with panties caught on his sunglasses, and down his shirt, and stuffed in his jeans pockets.

It’s official. They have all lost it… . TOTALLY! Through the tears in Trev’s eyes, he sees how hard everybody has worked. Hanging panties from the ceiling tiles… . His mike and stand covered… in panties. The control board, instruments, inside the icebox (cold panties), in drawers, etc, etc. He spends the next few minutes breathless with laughter, hunting them down like Easter eggs from the ETHER bunny! Nobody can speak. Trev is holding his sides… . for his ribs hurt so much from the deep laughter. He knows his voice is shot! They amble up from the studio to Dave’s inground pool, where Trev again loses it, for in the pool floating are many, many… . PANTIES! Well, Trev practiced his good Boy Scout skills and came prepared. He strips off his jeans (now there is a chorus coming from the wives of strip tease music), underneath he reveals he already has his swim trunks on. He strips off his shirt. He goes to the diving board and does a double half twist into the water in perfect form! (Give me a break—it’s my fantasy to think of him as an Iron Man type of swimmer. I also like to fantasize him being a gifted diver! Six pack and all! Imagine with me. AAAAAaahhhhhhh! Ok, got to do the swimmer come up from underwater and slick the hair back move… . uh oh… cold shower may be in order. TILT!) Once in the water, he starts swimming around like a well-trained Labrador Retriever collecting… . panties. Some… . in… . his… . mouth! He stands up in the pool, and has panties… . dripping… . hanging from his mouth! They give him a standing ovation… . he takes a bow… . before they all join him in the pool. Poor Irving; he’s blushing, stammering, still wondering What the H**L I’ve gotten myself into! He rolls his eyes, and laughs with them. Meeting called to order, if there is such a thing as order involving a band named Roundabout . . . . AND a singer named Trev Riggs.

The End

CAUGHT UP…

(written along with co-writer

Caterina De Forza)

It was supposed to be a closed session, he thought in frustration. He turned and dug himself into the music, letting his emotions come out between the lyrics. It was supposed to be a no stress work session, and now they had uninvited eyes upon them. Sheena shows up with her entourage. What happened to her being in New York? Sometimes that woman drives me crazy… . Caught up and on you, hey… . he sung.

Finishing up the song to their audience of 6 who were clapping and giving them a standing ovation for what it was worth. Trev turned to his band knowing he had to deal with Sheeeeeena. Let’s call it for today. Say 1 o’clock tomorrow? Yeah, man his guitar player said as he put down the instrument. They all started gathering their stuff and leaving as Trev turned to Sheena. Trev, you’re sounding marvelous, darling. Never sounded so good. It was the right move to get away from Roundup. Roundabout, you mean. Yeah, whatever. You sound so much better on your own. Trev grabbed at a towel to soak up the sweat from his neck. Trev, baby. I want to introduce you to someone. This is Si. He is a major producer from New York, I brought him back with me. We think it would be good for you to… include one of the songs he wrote on your album. It’s gonna be the one to take you to super stardom, I just know it. A man in dark with dark sunglasses walked up out of the shadows. Trev looked at him and immediately got a feeling he didn’t like.

A gut feeling. First off, who wears sunglasses inside a warehouse on a cloudy day unless they have something to hide? Nice to meet you Trev politely extended his hand. The gentleman’s hand felt rough and shaky. Trev, I have a screaming rock song that would make us both rich men. Trev had the words swimming in his head—I was already at Superstardom with Roundabout. Done that, been there. Not where I really care to go to again. Screaming rock song? That’s not my style and very wrong for a voice. I’ll be ruined in a heartbeat. Is this guy a more formal version of Joey Bucha who wants heavy metal and won’t take no for an answer? This is my project and no one else’s. Rich? I already have enough to support my needs. He pulled Sheena aside slightly. Hey baby (he called her to pacify her even though it made him cringe), look, I told you this was my project, and mine alone.

It is my SOLO record. Solo means by myself. Sorry, but not inter… . But Trevie (he hated that) this is the gold at the end of the rainbow. And besides, I already told him yes You what! Trev honey, don’t be mad. Look, I’m looking out for your best interests she told him. She had a tear forming at the side of her eye, and Trev saw it. He saw she was scared. Ok, (he took a deep breath), ok, let me see what I can do." Another fine mess you got me into, Sheeeeeena. She reached up and smoothed his sweaty bangs out of his eyes. She turned and left to get back in the car. Trev turned to the man in black.

I’m grateful for your offer. But I’m not really interested. I have more than enough songs to make a record, in fact, the selection has already been made and approved. That’s unfortunate to hear. I could have made you. Well, I’m just not at that point in my life right now. In fact, I’m past that point. Trev looked at the gentleman, trying to read him but finding it next to impossible with those damn glasses on. The man turned. Trev watched him walk out sensing that things weren’t final yet. He had chills and his stomach turned. And he knew it wasn’t the flu.

About a half hour later, he was cleaned up and starting to head out. He had called Dave and run his feelings past his friend. Neither he nor Joey had heard of the gentleman. His next thought was to call his lawyer when he got home. The way he felt, he bet that Ken would be able to dig up a record on this Si guy. He turned noticing one of the music sheets had fell to the ground. He bent down. Suddenly, it hit him, knocking him to the ground. The music stand went flying. Something heavy was on top of him, pressing him to the concrete floor. It grabbed at him, forcing his hands in back of him. He heard the sound of duct tape tearing. Hey! He tried to kick out, but sideways couldn’t get any real leverage. Another tear of duct tape. A sideways turn of his head. He saw a mask. And then he was silenced. He fought with what he had. They picked him up by his arms and started to drag him off towards the door. Outside the door he saw the car with the trunk open. He tried to get his feet under him to make it as hard as possible, because once they put him in the trunk he figured he was as good as gone. Trev bucked and tried to put the brakes on with his feet. No Roundabout security around. It was supposed to be a closed, unknown session. He cursed inside himself… .

Trev continued to thrash, doing everything he could to avoid being compressed into that scary metal box of a car trunk. He tried to get a good look at his abductors… at least they didn’t put tape over his eyes! The muscle bound wrestler on his left side was wearing a Star Wars Chewbacca Halloween mask while the one on his right had chosen Yoda. Trev didn’t have a chance to register more than that before he was lifted off his feet and stuffed into the vehicle and then all was dark as the lid slammed shut. Trev’s mind was racing madly as he tried to figure out who would want to kidnap him and why. Yeah, he had money, but not THAT kind of money… not Patty Hearst rich or J. Paul Getty rich. Oh God, what if they cut off parts… he felt sick at the idea and even worse at the vision of his mom or Sandra opening a box to find his ear or a finger. Trev started kicking and trying to scream but it was no use. He couldn’t see where the trunk latch was, there was no way to open it from the inside anyway. His hands were taped behind him and there wasn’t room enough to slip his hands to the front, even if he were flexible enough to do it. He felt around to see if there was anything he could use as a weapon in the trunk with him or anything sharp that could be used to cut the duct tape on his wrists. Nothing. He slid against the side of the compartment as the car went around a long curve and then speeded up. We’re on the Freeway… Trev thought.

Way to go, Riggs! Trev thought, his legs curled up to his chin. Why couldn’t they’ve at least gotten a Caddy or a Lincoln, something bigger, it wouldn’t be as hard to lie in at least he said to himself. Trev felt the car pull off the freeway—at least, he felt the car moving to the right, and downward. He lay still, listening now that the car has come to a stop, were they where they were going? Or were they at a stop light? He couldn’t figure it out, but he was smelling freshly mowed grass, the memory taking him back to when he was a kid. He used to mow the neighbors lawns for them and they’d give him whatever they could afford. His mom made sure he knew where a dollar came from and respected hard work. Even now that he could afford almost whatever he wanted, he always made sure that he tucked more back than he’d spend. Herbie always said he could pinch the buffalo off a nickel, maybe he was right.

They turned off the engine. Trev laid there listening intently. He took a deep breath through his nose trying to calm his heart; its thumping was getting in the way of what he was trying to hear. Anything about his whereabouts and situation would help him try to plan something accordingly. He was scared. Life had changed for him since being a nobody in Wood Lake. Over the years the threat of this happening had grown. Herbie and the Roundabout organization had protected him. Now, though, it was finally catching up to him. He tried again to wiggle his wrist out of their bindings, hoping the clammy feelings in his palms would help; but, unfortunately, it didn’t. He was going to have to kick as hard as he could. And then run, risking possibly getting shot in the back. He’d have to. He heard the key in the trunk lock turn. OK, exit stage left… .

It opened. The brightness from the sky blinded him. He kicked out a leg and met no one. Again he reared out and did it again, this time making contact, but nothing that could do harm. He felt a hand grab around his ankle. And then felt a part of the car as his leg was shoved back down. His eyes were just about to adjust when a bag of some sort was placed over his head, blinding him. He shook his head to try and disengage it. Continuing to swing his head as he was lifted out of the trunk. OK, Riggs, he thought, this is the time to really become difficult. He put everything he had into wiggling and kicking. Whoever had him then shoved him into the dry dirt.

Tell him! he heard a rough voice say. Tell Him, what I have to your head! Tr… . Trev. He heard a familiar voice, full of tears. This time it was not her flamboyant ‘darling, sweetie, honey’ self. It was her real voice. Sheena. He stopped briefly. Trev, he has a gun, and he is holding it to my head. Ahhhhh! She screamed as he pulled at hair. Trev kicked out one more time before what she said registered. Whoever had him whispered wickedly in his ear, He’ll kill her right now if you don’t get cooperative. He’s crazy!!

I might do something else before I slit her throat Sheena’s captor said with an evil laugh. Ahhh, no… . Ahhh… Trev heard her yelp. He surrendered. Ok that’s better. Now going to help you to your feet, so we can go in and make you both more comfortable. He was brought up to his feet and walked inside someplace. And then made to sit in a hardback chair. And he heard it again. More strips of duct tape wrapped around his legs to the chair and one around his midsection to the chair back. He moved his head, still covered trying to keep track of where Sheena went, but heard nothing of her. It was then silent. MMMmmMmmm he said to the open air, hoping someone was still around.

He felt finger tips reach under the hood. And then the duct tape was ripped from his face. He licked his lips. What do you want? He heard someone take a deep breath. Well, I wanted to make some money off a song, but since you refused, I figured I’d make money this way. Off you. Roundabout is going to want their lead singer back. Why do you need Sheena? Let her go, you have me. Trev moved in the chair trying to ease the pressure. He wiggled his fingers trying to aid the circulation.

Why do we need Sheena? Well, that is a good question. We don’t… not really. Well, she could be useful in making sure you cooperate… don’t try to escape. Just like a few minutes ago. But even if we don’t need her, we can’t just let her go. You understand that, don’t you… Trev? She knows who we are. What we’re doing; that we have you. We don’t need to keep Sheena… but we certainly cannot let her go.

Trev thought quickly, trying to figure out a way to cut a deal that would get both Sheena and himself out of this. Hey man. You have to understand that I ain’t worth nothin’ in the way of ransom. Roundabout will go on without me… I wasn’t their first lead singer… Herbie will just find someone else to take my place. He won’t pay ransom for me. But I can sign over some property to you… Southern California… it’s a great investment. And there’s a condo in San Francisco… you know that’s worth some major bucks. And cars, I’ve got a sweet muscle car. All things that can be signed over free and clear. He tried to keep the sound of desperation from creeping into his voice, but he could hear it rising in range as stress tightened his vocal chords.

He swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to relax himself as best as he could. He had to put up a front and not let them know how nervous he really was. This very situation had been one of the hazards of the job. He had always hoped never to experience it; but here he was. He shifted his head slightly; his face still covered by the bag. It was hot inside the bag as it filled with his carbon dioxide. He took another deep breath longing for fresh air. He wiggled his hands and wrist again for the hundredth time he figured, but found the tape unforgiving. It pulled at his skin. He shifted his hips uncomfortably. From his right he heard what sounded like another chair being dragged on the cement floor, and then felt somebody warm near his proximity. The chair crowded in on him. Something pressed into his arm. A door slammed. Trev, I’m sorry. Sheena? Yeah. Are they gone? For now they are. Are you alright? Yeah. She started to cry softly. He could hear the nervousness in her voice. They didn’t touch you, did they? No she sniffed. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I didn’t know this was going to happen. It’s ok. Be cool. We’ll figure a way out. Sheena looked at Trev through her tears. Trev, lean towards me. I think I can get that bag off your head. He did as she asked. Sheena took a bite at the hood as he pulled away, but she lost the grip she had with her teeth. It’s tight Yeah, but… try again. She again bit at the seam of the hood and pulled. Ouch. She pulled a piece of his hair. Sorry she said muffled, her mouth busy with the material of the hood. It’s coming. Keep pulling Trev told her as he wiggled, anxious to get the sack off and breathe.

Finally, the bag came off. Trev squinted until his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. His hair was practically a dandelion’s fluff from the static created when the bag was removed. It might have looked amusing, clown-like, except for the look of determination on Trev’s face. He scanned the room, not forgetting to look up, taking account, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. Anything that might help them escape. Trev worked his chair around, so that he could survey all corners of the large room. They were in some sort of warehouse or garage. The lights were bright enough to overcome the lack of windows. Damn! Trev swore. Sheena, how many entrances does this room have? Just the one, Trev. she nodded her chin towards a pair of double doors. I think they have them chained on the outside, she continued I’ve heard them jingle just before they come in. I guess from unlocking a padlock or something. Trev took a closer look at Sheena. She didn’t appear to have been physically harmed. Sheena, you have to trust me, babe, and tell me the truth. I won’t get angry with you, I promise. Trev tried to set her at ease But Sheena, I need to know. Do you know these guys? Do you know anything about them, where they are from, how they knew where we’d be?

I met ‘Si’ in New York. At one of the premiers. Funny. I was standing there humming a Roundabout tune. She laughed slightly. To think it would ever lead to this. He leaned over my shoulder and said ‘good band.’ Stupid me bragged. Yeah, I have connections. You know how we network. I should have known or at least sensed it; he wined and dined me after that. I remember him saying that he was going through some hard times and didn’t have anybody booked with him right now. Could almost see the dollar signs in his eyes. Figured anybody that would work for him would end up being a slave. Why… . why lead him my way? You know I’ve been trying to loosen my chain with Roundabout. A drop of sweat appeared on Trev’s head. Sheena couldn’t help but eyeball it. It started from on top of his brow and made its way down his temple and cheek. Unable to wipe it away, Trev looked for a way to dry it but came up empty. He shook his head to send it flying like he did in concerts, but it was irritatingly holding on. It ended up trailing down his jaw and neck, eventually disappearing and getting caught by his T-shirt. It left a shiny ‘snail trail’ down his face. He said he had a way to make videos, and I knew that was what you were doing. He made it sound so good. Trev breathed slowly. Keeping his promise of not getting mad. Well what sounds good right now is getting out of here. He again muscled the bindings that held him.

He looked at Sheena noting she was a little bit more free than he was. She was not bound to the chair around the midsection like he was. Sheena, OK, let’s try this. I want you to see if you can lean over and get to my wrist. I want you to see if you can bite at the tape and pull at it. They scooted their chairs around to give her the best access. She then leaned over and put her mouth near his slender fingers. She grabbed on and pulled back causing the tape to give. He yelped slightly for the tape pulled at his skin. It’s ok, keep pulling he said, gritting his teeth and bearing it. She pulled again as he pulled opposite, causing more of the tape to loosen and pull. Trev held his breath and let it out. Sheena stopped. You OK? She asked. Yeah, keep on going. 20 minutes later and a few dozen skin cells, he wiggled and finally was able to move his wrist apart from each other. By this time his whole forehead was covered in a film of sweat. It was getting in his eyes when the tape suddenly gave. He brought his hands around to the front of him and immediately started working on the piece around his chest that held him to the chair. When he got that undone, he brought his arm up to his forehead and wiped it like a windshield wiper on a window. Sheena, I love you, he said as he went for his legs. Not really, he thought; it was just a figure of speech. Sheena sat their patiently as she watched him. She longed for his statement to be true; but he was part of her job; she had to maintain a certain distance. Putting on an act and being aggravating worked really well for her in managing clients. She could acquire them, and then speak with that nose pinch New York accent when she wanted to get them to do something that they didn’t want to do. It was a persona that let her interrupt and dictate when she needed to. When she told people she was from New York, they always assumed New York City. No one back home in Buffalo would recognize little Sheena Zimmerman now. But Trev. Trev was different. She never could put her finger on it. She had always tried to treat him well.

He was free. He turned to her and started at her wrist, unlocking her from the rope that was tied around her. He worked the wrappings off and let it fall to the ground. He came around in front of her, freeing her legs, and as he did so he felt her lay her hands on his shoulders, strong and firm. When he was done, he looked up at her from his lowered position. He noticed a side of Sheena he hadn’t seen before. A vulnerable side; not aggravating at all. Even her voice sounded different now, less strident. You ready to go hunt to see how we’re going to get out of here? She nodded.

Sheena looked at him, a tear forming in the corner of her left eye. She quickly wiped it away, not wishing anyone to see that side of her. She was supposed to be a hard-edged, get-what-she-wanted NYC type of gal. But she was scared and couldn’t hold back her shivers. She couldn’t hide it as hard as she tried. She swallowed as she shook her head in agreement. She again looked at Trev. She was looking at Trev Riggs, singer of Roundabout and seeing him in a different light. They were about the same age, but on different levels of the business. Her bossy button was turned all the way off.

He could feel her shake. Or was it him that was shaking. He wasn’t for sure. You OK? His voice so soft and smooth. Yeah. I just want this to be a bad dream, and wish I would wake up. He rubbed a hand over her thigh as a comfort gesture when he rose up. C’mon. She rose from her chair. They went over to the walls of the enclosure and searched for any lose seams. Trev being into construction before his singing career took off knew the proper way these buildings were assembled, and the mistakes that could happen. He looked in the most usual places. Up towards the ceiling where the walls met the roof. In the corners. Down by where the foundation met the walls. With any luck, the foundation sunk a little. Enough to squeeze their bodies through. Bingo! He found just what he was looking for. In one of the corners down low. He pushed at the siding causing a gap to occur to the outside. The air coming in smelled fresh and inviting. Ok, squeeze through he asked of Sheena. She did. Ow she said as the metal scraped her legs slightly. You ok? Yeah. Trev then started his decent and squeeze through.

They were free. In what seemed to be a back pasture bordered by woods. Trev reached for Sheena’s hand as he helped her up. They surveyed their possibilities. They chose right and began to walk, looking as they went. Almost to the tree line when… Dogs. Dogs started barking wildly and running toward their vicinity. Shoot! Let’s go! Sheena, run! They ran for the cover of the woods. About 50 feet in they stopped and listened. Sure enough they heard voices, and swore they heard guns cocking. Sheena, run! One step wrong was all it took. Trev stepped in a gopher hole. He went down. Twisting the ankle. Pain worked its way up his calf. Trev! Sheena yelled. She grabbed for him to help him up. He managed to take a couple hobbles but then went down once again. Trev, c’mon! Trev pushed at Sheena. Go, Sheena, go, get help. Go! I can’t. Trev, I can’t leave you. Gonna have to. The footsteps came nearer. Trev looked Sheena in the eyes and calmly said again, Go. She fought with her inside voice briefly. Then turned and continued her run, looking back once. Trev watched her until she disappeared in the thicket. He then laid back and waited for whatever fate they had in store for him.

Sheena ran, stopping behind a tree, looking back momentarily. She saw Trev lying there, reaching down splinting his ankle while trying to hide the pain. She wanted very badly to run back to him. She noticed movement in the vegetation behind him followed by a set of arms, and those arms were equipped with guns. She turned and headed down the hill, knowing she at this point was the key to help. She grabbed onto trees as she made her way down the hill, sliding in the loose dirt. Tears mixing with dirt started to sting her cheeks as she thought about what she was leaving behind. Chills captivated her. Knowing they had found him as she heard raised voices echo through the valley.

Trev laid there as three armed men surrounded him. His eyes watched them, preparing for their assault. They poked and teased at him with the gun barrels. At one point, kicking at him. No words were said, just a deep breath of irritation from Si. Lock him in the root cellar. Si walked away as the others grabbed him up by his arms forcing him up on his injured ankle. Trev let out a yell as the bones seem to grate. He fell forward ending up on his knees. My ankle! he hollered. They grabbed at him again and started to drag him. Trev tried to balance himself on his good ankle as they made their way back to the property. They opened the door and threw him in. The root cellar was a small 4x5 area enclosure made of cinder blocks and half buried under ground. 80 cinder blocks in all to be exact… . for Trev found himself counting them over and over.

He had no way of telling time in that small dark hole. Trev prayed that Sheena had gotten away and would bring help. She was his only hope now. He could feel his ankle swelling but didn’t know if it was broken or not. Trev took his t-shirt off and worked at it until he could tear the sleeves off. He used the bands of fabric to make a brace for his ankle. If he could keep the swelling down and support it in some way, maybe he’d be able to hobble on it if the chance ever came. The cellar was too small for him to try and stand and not big enough to stretch out if he lay down. He put his sleeveless t-shirt back on; it was cold lying against the bare dirt floor. Trev curled up trying to conserve his body heat. He didn’t want to think about what this space would become if his captors didn’t bring water or food. He hoped he could stay strong. Anger at the people who had done this was gone and all that was left was a feeling of despair.

It seemed like days had passed since he’d been dumped in the dark root cellar. The cold and dampness had settled into Trev’s body. It felt like it had penetrated his actual bones, especially his swollen ankle. On top of that his stomach was growling quite vigorously. Being a young male he always had a good appetite and didn’t like the feeling of being hungry. It reminded him of his days as a young singer living on very limited funds. That situation had left him with quite a limited food budget. He could have laughed at the irony of that this situation had him in the same boat. Well he could have laughed if his throat was not so dry from lack of water. He wondered if there was a patron saint of kidnap victims he could petition for help. He thought back to his days as a young boy in Sunday school and to the wizened old nun, Sister Agatha, who taught him Catechism. He imagined asking her a question like that. He did laugh then at the image of her shaking a bony finger at him and condemning him to Hell. Sheesh, he thought. I am really losing it. He blamed it on a combination of terror and lack