Why not try a bit of writing? It would take Helen and her friend a few minutes to cut through the clutter and migrate backstage, and with any luck he could scribble some prose in the interim. He handed his guitar to the roadie.
Jonnie swaggered by, unloading his instrument into the hands of his tech. “‘Crimson and Clover,’ eh?” The twinkle in his eyes betrayed savvy awareness.
Some temporary staff lad reappeared with a spiral-bound notebook and two pens. Weight of the items perfect and comforting as he accepted them, Brian tendered the young man a nod of thanks. In under a minute, he’d filled half a page. “I’m feeling inspired today. Finally. Figured I’d have a go. We’ll see if any productivity comes of it.”
Brian paused to shake out a cramp in his hand before writing more. God, he was more obvious than he wanted to be. Though he enjoyed flirting with groupies and fans to keep his skills sharp, he was rather picky about who he dated or slept with. If he connected with a woman on the road, everyone knew right away.
Had he made a lasting connection with Helen? Tough to say, but Brian knew one thing: hadn’t felt like this since before he’d become famous. By coincidence, also at a fair. A little fair, close to his dorm, where he’d held hands with a girl named Suzy and won her an ugly teddy bear after their first-year classes at Cambridge dismissed. It’d started pissing rain, and they’d run for cover and hid under an awning behind one of the game stalls. He’d been too chicken to kiss her, she being an elite girl and he a gawky and overly tall boy from too close to Scotland, who somehow stumbled into the prestigious university.
Jonnie played with the barbell spearing his left ear cartilage. “What’s her name?”
“Someone I met earlier. She’s called Helen. If all goes well, I’ll bring her round for an introduction later.”
“Nice. I’m happy for you.” Jonnie patted Brian on the back.
“Thanks.” Brian soaked in the warmth of brotherly love, though he hurt for his friend. Jonnie’s fiancée, a fellow guitarist, had left him and shredded the bloke’s tender heart.
Jonnie’s entourage stormed the side stage, a jovial bunch bearing champagne and thirsty for attention, and the rhythm guitarist went to hold court for his followers. Hangers-on wouldn’t fill the void inside, but it wasn’t Brian’s place to lecture anyone.
“Hey.” Helen’s charming Minnesotan twang ripped Brian from his musings.
The sight of her sent a surge of excitement through his system. At the same time, her calm, earnest presence grounded him. “Hi. You having a good time?”
“Yes. Awesome show, as always.” She spoke words of assurance, though heaviness weighed on her tone.
“Are you okay? Where’s your friend Lisa?” Had Joe bothered Helen again? If so, the sod could expect an earful.
She moved her jaw back and forth and glanced to the side. “She had to leave. I’m not sure if I’m okay. Can we go somewhere private?”
Concern and confusion twisted through him. “Yes, of course.”
Guiding Helen by the elbow with his free hand, he led her down a short set of metal stairs, ignoring the backstage bustle. They crossed the patchy, trampled grass behind the grandstand and passed a cluster of crew members taking a cigarette break.
Helen tossed a glance over her shoulder, walking a few more paces and stopping. A Ferris wheel spun in the distance behind her, illuminated aqua and purple spokes bringing attention to her furrowed brow, the methodical way she attacked a hangnail. She covered her face.
Suspicion crowded out Brian’s positive emotions. Why was she acting downright furtive? “What’s going on?”
“This is going to sound weird, but I need that crystal. I shouldn’t have given it to you.”
A mess of embarrassment for losing a meaningful item and resentment that an element of Helen’s behavior had to be sketchy tangled his feelings into a knot. “I don’t have your crystal any more. It just disappeared. I looked through all of my pockets. I’m so sorry.”
Her eyes bugged. “What? You lost it? Shit.” Scowling, she picked her fingernail.
This encounter was off in a big way. Why was this crystal so important, such a big deal? Was the stone not hers to give?
“Pardon, I didn’t know it came with a two-hour repossession policy, executable at a moment’s notice.” Though he tried for tart English banter, the comeback came out a bit sharper than intended. Why couldn’t he enjoy a relaxed, uncomplicated evening with a woman without the entire thing going all to pot?
“I wish I could explain in a way that made more sense. But things are happening that could harm you. Things outside of my control.” Lazy wind made her locks flutter, though her pretty face drooped.
“What are you talking about?” His arms twitched, but he fought a desire to lay hands on her shoulders and ease her duress through comforting touch.
He had a daughter to protect, and some bad news waves rolled off Helen with her odd, garbled warning. Best to keep physical and emotional distance from questionable people. He had plenty of untrustworthiness in his life with Joe’s scheming and duplicity.
“I’m not sure.” She rummaged in her purse, pulled out the same black pouch as before, and plucked out another crystal. “Please take this. To absorb negative energy. I think the first one has an evil spirit attached to it.”
Evil spirit? Brian’s chest calcified into a cast of familiar cynicism. A harmless belief in lucky charms was one thing, but evil spirit talk crossed a line. Helen was some manner of New Age kook swept up in her own personal theatre of delusion. She’d seemed too good to be true for a reason, and now he knew why.
He put up his hands, holding the notebook high as he backed away. “No, thank you. Thanks for stopping by the show. Goodnight.”
“Please take this. Something terrible is happening. Please believe me when I say I’m doing what I can to help. This crystal
