Small Steps - Louis Sachar [30]
“You been warned of her power,
You been warned of her charm.
They say when she loves you,
She causes bodily harm!
“Well, come a little closer,
If you want to find out,
’Cause I’m the she
They warned you about!”
If the people in the audience could have come any closer they would not have hesitated. The place was going crazy. Ginny shouted something into Armpit’s ear, but he couldn’t hear her. It didn’t matter. He could feel her excitement.
When the song ended they both stood up and wildly applauded. Kaira looked over at them and smiled.
As the concert went on, the songs changed from fast to slow, from funky to sincere, but Kaira maintained a magical hold over the crowd. Even she could feel it. Normally she shut out the audience as she disappeared into the songs, but it was different tonight. It was almost like the audience was part of the band. She fed off their energy.
“I listen to the radio,” she said. “So much of what I hear is filled with anger and hatred. It’s like guys think they have to be tough and cruel in order to be a man. To me, a man is someone who is brave enough to love, and to let himself be loved.”
Cotton, on drums, pounded out a driving, steady beat, and Kaira ripped into the next song.
“Angry Young Man, with your!
Angry Young Heart, and your!
Angry Young Eyes, and your!”
The drum punctuated each line and drove it home.
“Angry young mouth, [BANG!] spewing
Twisted cruel words. [BANG!] ’bout the . . .
People you know, [BANG!] and the!
Money you make, [BANG!] and the!
Women you hurt, [BANG!] with your!
Hateful love.”
Armpit had heard the song before, but never with such fire behind it. Now, watching her, hearing her, seeing the passion in her eyes, it almost made him cry. The song could have been about him a couple of years ago, before he went to Camp Green Lake. Although it wasn’t really Camp Green Lake that released him from his anger. It was coming home and meeting Ginny.
“You’ll be a
Sorry old man, with a!
Sorry old heart, and two!
Sorry old eyes, with your!
Sorry old rage, in your
Sorry old cage. . . .”
She followed that with “Imperfection,” and he was reminded of Tatiana. He had forgotten all about her. He was glad he’d ended up going with Ginny instead, and it wasn’t just because he got to be up onstage. Just seeing the look on Ginny’s face as she stared at Kaira made him very happy.
Kaira started in on “Damsel in Distress,” and Armpit grabbed Ginny’s arm and told her to listen to the words, but it was hard to pick them out. The music was too loud, the audience was screaming, and the backup singers were singing some kind of counterpoint harmony that kept getting in the way.
“. . . these jewels, these shoes, this dress
A perfect picture of success.
No one would ever guess, Armpit,
A damsel in distress.”
“Did you hear that?” he asked her.
She didn’t know what he was talking about.
Of course she didn’t. He knew that. He knew he had to be hearing something wrong.
Finally, at the very end of the song everything slowed down. The music got real soft, and the backup singers were silent, and even the audience was hushed. Kaira, under a single spotlight, seemed especially alone and vulnerable as she half sang, half whispered the very last words.
“Save me, Armpit.
A damsel in distress.”
At least, that was what he heard.
“So?” Armpit asked Ginny as they both stood and applauded.
“I like that song,” said Ginny.
Kaira followed that with the fast-paced “Frying Pan,” during which the words seemed to just shoot out of her mouth like bullets.
“An overworked, underloved, housewife named Myra
Has dinner in the skillet, and a load in the dryer.
When a magazine salesman comes to inquire
If she would like to be a magazine buyer,
One look in his eyes, and she’s filled with desire.
She buys a subscription to Time, and one to Esquire.
‘Is there anything else, ma’am, that you require?’
She says, ‘Take me out of the frying pan . . .
And into the fire!’