Small Steps - Louis Sachar [26]
Backstage, Kaira DeLeon was chewing a piece of gum that had long lost its flavor. This was always the worst time for her. She knew she’d be all right once she started singing. Then she would disappear into the music.
The backstage area was filled with people, half of whom she didn’t recognize. Besides all the people working on tour, there were record company executives, friends of record company executives, children of lawyers, brothers-in-law of security personnel. Every once in a while someone managed to slip past the Doofus and ask for her autograph. In Houston, a woman and her two kids had actually asked her to sing a song for them.
Kaira wore a lavender sweat suit. Beneath it was the outfit she’d wear for the show, which was little more than sparkling underwear with fringe. For some reason it seemed all right to dress that way in front of thousands of people, but in this small area it would have been embarrassing.
She wished she had stayed in her dressing room instead of having to be around all these people. It was almost eight, but the concerts never started on time. She should know that by now. El Genius liked to “make ’em wait.” He didn’t want her taking the stage until the audience had worked itself into a frenzy.
She looked at him, shouting into his walkie-talkie. She pitied the person on the other end. Next to him, her mother was drinking from one of those horrible plastic souvenir cups with her picture on it. Lately her mother had begun having cocktails during the show.
At least Aileen wasn’t around. Kaira could no longer stand the sight of her. She’d already gone to Dallas to make sure all the arrangements had been taken care of at their next hotel.
Kaira wondered if her mother suspected there was something going on between Jerome and Aileen. Maybe that was the reason for the cocktails.
A local DJ was onstage now, firing up the crowd.
“Is everyone ready?”
“Yes!” Ginny shouted at the top of her lungs, but even Armpit, sitting right next to her, couldn’t hear her for the crowd.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” he and Ginny shouted.
“Because Kaira DeLeon will be standing on this very spot in just five minutes!”
Armpit felt Ginny’s fingernails dig into his arm.
“So just hold on a little longer!”
Everyone cheered the line from one of Kaira’s songs.
Armpit only slowly became aware that somebody was tapping his shoulder. He turned to see a security guard.
“Excuse me,” the guard said, apparently not for the first time. “May I see your tickets, please?”
A man and young girl stood behind him. The girl was probably Ginny’s age, although she was much bigger.
“May I see your tickets, please?” the security guard asked again.
“My tickets?”
“Please.”
Armpit tried to remember what he’d done with them. He hoped he hadn’t dropped them when he was dealing with the popcorn and soda.
“You’re sitting in our seats!” the girl accused.
“Are n-n-not!” said Ginny.
Armpit stood up to check his pockets. The security guard instinctively stepped back from him.
“I don’t want any trouble,” the guard said, placing a hand on his walkie-talkie. “I just want to make sure you’re in your right seats.”
Armpit didn’t want any trouble either. “I got them here somewhere.”
“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me, Sir.”
“I’ve got the tickets!” Armpit shouted, partly out of frustration and partly to be heard over the crowd, which was now stomping their feet with impatience.
“Please come with me, sir, and I’ll help you find your correct seats.”
“Just wait!”
The guard spoke into his walkie-talkie. “I’m going to need some help here. Section B.”
Armpit’s pants had too many pockets: three on the right front, two on the left front, and two in the back. “Found ’em!” he exclaimed. They were in one of the front pockets. He handed the stubs to the security guard.
As the guard was looking them over, two uniformed police officers hurried quickly down the aisle. “What’s the problem here?” asked one of the officers.
“No problem,” said Armpit.
“Counterfeit tickets,” said the security guard. “He refuses to leave.”
“What?” Armpit exclaimed,