Small Steps - Louis Sachar [18]
“Okay, who’s got the two of clubs?” Kaira asked. “Oh, I do.” She giggled, then placed the card on the coffee table.
She had never played hearts with real people before, only on a computer, and was losing badly. It seemed like every hand she got stuck with the queen of spades.
The bus had two couches set up at a right angle, with a coffee table in the center “for drinks and feet.” Those were Cotton’s words. Just about everything he said made her laugh.
Three other band members and all three backup singers had missed the bus. They would have to find their own way to Houston.
“Goin’ to Texas, we should listen to some Texas music,” said Tim B. He stood up, then stumbled and fell against the side of the couch. Kaira didn’t know if this was caused by the bus’s movement or by what he’d been drinking.
“I’m all right,” he said, getting back to his feet, then made his way to the CD rack. “Hey, Kaira, you ever heard of Janis Joplin?”
Kaira hesitated a moment, then said, “Oh, yeah, she really rocks!”
Cotton saw right through her. “You never heard of her, have you?”
“Uh, maybe, I’m not sure.”
“If you heard her, you’d know,” he said.
“We’re talking real music,” Tim B said as he fumbled with the CD. “Raw and to the bone.”
“And no cutesy-dootsy backup singers,” said Duncan.
“I’ll drink to that,” said Cotton, clinking beer bottles with him.
Kaira didn’t like the backup singers any better than they did, but El Genius said they added sexual energy.
“Music needs blank spaces sometimes,” Cotton said. “They take up all the blank spaces.”
“Now you’re talkin’ about music,” said Billy Goat. “Nobody makes real music anymore. It’s all just a big show.”
“Just background for MTV,” said Duncan. “It’s almost impossible for a real musician to do anything worth listening to anymore. Now it’s all I-don’t-know-what.”
“Don’t listen to them, Kaira,” said Cotton. “They been saying the same thing for the last twenty-five years.”
Janis Joplin’s voice came over the speakers. Kaira hadn’t heard her before, but she liked her right off. Her raspy voice seemed to drip emotion. There was a kind of raw energy to the music, not like the polished songs she sang, in which every note was carefully planned and orchestrated.
“Now, that’s the way rock ’n’ roll’s supposed to be,” said Tim B, half sitting down, half falling onto the couch.
“She’s from Port Arthur, Texas,” said Cotton.
“Where’s that?”
None of the band members seemed to know.
“Somewhere in Texas,” said Cotton.
Kaira laughed.
“So, Kaira,” said Billy Goat. “I thought your mama didn’t allow you to ride with us.”
“She doesn’t know I’m here,” said Kaira. “Anyway, I got Fred to protect me from you dirty old men.”
The Doofus was sitting up front next to the driver.
“Yeah, well, tell you what,” said Billy Goat. “Your mama would be a lot better off if she kept her watchful eye on that husband of hers instead of on you.”
“Don’t go there,” said Cotton.
“What do you mean by that?” asked Kaira.
“Her watchful eye . . . ,” sang Tim B.
“It’s nothing,” said Cotton.
“She’s a grown girl,” said Billy. “She might as well know the truth.”
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” said Cotton.
“What?” asked Kaira.
“All I’m saying,” said Billy, “is your mama would be better off if she kept one eye on her husband and one eye on Aileen.”
“And all I’m saying,” said Cotton, “is when you don’t know what you’re talking about, you shouldn’t talk so much.”
“Aileen’s my mom’s friend,” said Kaira. “They go shopping together.”
“She’s your dad’s friend too,” Tim B said with a laugh.
“He’s not my dad,” said Kaira.
“The girl likes to shop, I’ll give you that,” said Duncan. “But the question is this: whose money is she spending?”
Aileen was the person in charge of coordinating all the travel arrangements for the tour. She had been the one who went