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ONLY LAUGH WHEN IT HURTS
By Wayne Webb
CHAPTER 22
Tony was going out
of his way to help the kids set up and get ready for their debut gig
at his bar. His interest had peaked with the arrival of Aida, and
while on one level he was very supportive of peoples expressions and
having that chance to put themselves out there, he was more
interested in spending more time in Aida's company.
He invited Vittorio
and his friend Franco, along with Franco's girlfriend Gina to have
coffee with him and talk over the 'gig', they weren't really that
prepared for an actual night of entertainment after all and when he
started asking questions they folded into a series of confidence
deflating answers.
“How many songs
are on your set list?” Tony had pulled out his laptop and started
making a plan for the night, since they had nothing firm on paper
yet.
“What do you
mean? We know maybe 10 songs we can... ummm and we can do the ones we
wrote and...” Gina was the frontperson for the band, she did most
of the talking while Franco agreed with everything she said. Vittorio
was taking it seriously and Tony could see the gears in his head
grinding and working out the answers.
“If you just want
to sing a couple of songs, thats fine, but trust me the time on stage
will go so much faster and slower than you think. What you think is a
decent length will be done in no time, and then you look up and see
how much time you have left, then that looks like eternity.” Tony
tapped his fingers on the keyboard and spun it around to Vittorio.
“Vito, start
working on the set list, don't worry about order, just write down all
the songs you can perform in full, right now, and how long they are.”
“We haven't
really timed them. But I think I can guess most of them, I can work
it out I mean.” Vittorio was already playing the tunes back in his
head and working out the timing, the other two looked at each other
starting to worry.
“Don't worry
about time, we can get to that later when we do a dry run.” Tony
looked around the cafe and tried to get a sense of where they should
be. He stood in the middle of the room and looked about himself.
Gina piped up, she
had this and their outfits all ready to go in her head. “I thought
over there by that arch, it's like a stage. We can turn that light on
us to spotlight... I mean like a spotlight?” She felt more
comfortable now.
“Right, yeah
that's not going to work. I see why you want to but you'd be putting
yourself between the audience and the bathroom entrance, and that's
not a good idea.” Tony was still standing in the same spot, turning
slowly.
“Oh, aren't we
going to be kind of exposed here?” Gina did not like the idea of
having the audience all around her. Franco folded his arms and nodded
but was unsure of what was best, it seemed like Tony knew what he was
talking about.
“Yes, but isn't
that the point?” He stared right at her until she blushed and
looked away. Tony shook his head and glanced at Vittorio who was
embarrassed by this sudden exposure of their amateurish approach.
“You want to be exposed, you want to be seen, you are here to
expose yourself to your audience, you want to be close enough to see
not have them hold you at arms length. The stage is not protection,
it's a barrier and in the place this size? You have to get amongst
them. Put yourself out there.” Tony pulled up a chair and placed it
in the middle of where he saw them performing.
“This place, my
place, is not perfect for a live band set up … but it can be good
for a small and intimate performance. Something light, acoustic and
up close, personal. You can't go to where you thought, too much
movement and it puts you in the way, the other open spot is too near
the front entrance, and back there? You'll be in the way of people
going to the bar, or to food coming out of the kitchen. No, here is
where you want to be, probably the only place to be.”
“Oh, have you
done this before?” Franco asked, curious to know what made him the
expert. Not from any misplaced faith in his girlfriend's decisions,
but borne of a curiosity. They, like most of the villagers knew
little and had to guess about who Tony was before village life
claimed him as one of their own. This now, this speech on placement
was one of the longest uninterrupted sets of sentences that Tony had
spoken in the last three years. Talking now about performance, from a
technical but highly impersonal perspective had energised him in
their eyes. It was seeing him change to be someone unexpected in
front of them.
“Me? No, no.”
He bit his hand and thought for a moment, where was this coming from?
In his mind he could see and feel the heat of the black halo of
staring into the spotlight himself. He was having a flashback,
standing in the crowd, heading through the theatre, directing people
through the lobby.
Vittorio could see
sweat on Tony's brow, even though it was mild today and far from hot
enough to raise a sweat. He cleared his throat but it did not make a
dent in his consciousness. He was standing on the stage staring at
the lights again.
The teens watched
him silently, aware that something was happening, but not sure what
it was.
The bells over the
front door jingled and in walked Aida with her daughter, bringing her
along to check on the preparation and see how Vittorio was coming
along. And to see Tony, she was attracted to him, and the feeling
being near him gave her. She had spent the last few nights thinking
over their conversations, she was attracted to being attracted to
someone again. It was like a drug, she wasn't getting any withdrawal
or craving, but she liked the feeling and wanted more opportunity to
feel like that.
The bells jangled
Tony out of the reverie and he looked at Aida, then upwards at the
lights, which were directional lamps, ones that could be turned as
spots.
“You may not want
those on, it's not a good... it can be very distracting... it depends
if you want to see your audience or not... sometimes its good not
too. Sometimes, and maybe like you guys you are going to want to see
how they react to your own material? You will want to see what's
going on I think.” He had come back to earth and the heat of memory
had faded and allowed a creeping cold to lower him back down again.
He rubbed at the sweat on his brow and looked back at Aida, forced a
smile and then went over to Vittorio and looked at the set list.
“We should
definitely do a practice, can we I mean? Can we do a practice?”
Vittorio looked at his band mates and they looked so relieved at the
thought of having a rehearsal.
“I'll be your
test audience, since it's probably a bit to late for Oriana on a
school night. And you won't want your mother cramping your style on
the night now will you Vito?” Aida was looking at Tony while saying
this, and he oblivious was staring at the lighting still, examining
it closer than it needed, processing memories he didn't know he had,
and were only fragments not complete.
Aida looked over at
her son who was as perplexed by this distant and distracted man in
between them. She threw up an eyebrow in wordless query to Vito and
he shrugged twice in response.
Finally Tony turned
to Vitorrio. “Rehearsal, great plan. We are closed on Monday
nights, then? Maybe the afternoon, you set up and then your
mother...” He recalled she was there in the middle of the sentence
and turned to her and finished addressing her instead. “... so you
can come along then when you bring... Oriana? with you? Does that
work for you?”
All eyes turned to
Aida, she looked at them all and even though she already knew the
answer she paused.
“Monday?” she
thought out loud and bit her lip. Her daughter thumped her on the arm
and answered for her.
“Monday!”
Five people sighed
contentedly, inwardly.
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