Part 38 (1/2)

On tour, Emma had begun to see them as a unit, like a body with four

heads. The picture that made in her mind made her laugh to herself, but

it seemed a true one. Today, they argued, and swore, joked or just sat

silently during playbacks. She didn't know the meaning of the technical

terms being tossed back and forth-didn't need to. She amused herself

when they huddled together, or was amused by them when they took a

moment to tease her. She ate gobs of greasy chips and bloated her belly

with c.o.kes.

During a break she sat on P.M.”s lap and bashed away at the drums. She

said her name into one of the mikes and heard her voice echo through the

room. With a spare drumstick in her hand, she dozed in the swivel

chair, her head pillowed on the faithful Charlie. And she awoke to her

father's voice, soaring in a ballad of tragic love.

Spellbound she watched, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning into

Charlie's fur. Her heart was too young to be touched by the lyrics. But

the sound reached her. She would never hear the song again without

remembering the moment when she'd awakened to hear his voice filling her

head. Filling the world.

When he had finished, she forgot that she was supposed to be quiet.

Bouncing on the chair, she clapped her hands together. ”Dad!”

In the engineering booth, Pete swore, but Brian held up a hand. ”Leave

that on.” With a laugh, he turned to Emma. ”Leave it on,” he repeated

as he held out his arms to her. When she reached them, he tossed her

into the air. ”What do you think, Emma? I've just made you a star.”

IF BRmN's FAITH in man had been shaken in 1968 with the a.s.sa.s.sination of

Martin Luther King, then Robert Kennedy, it was expanded during the