Chapter 8

Marilyn expected his eyes to wander to the other girls then come back to her as he tried to make her fit the concept in his head. He barely looked at them, instead he stared at Marilyn as if she held the answer to a deep question.

"What did you think of the music?"

Marilyn saw her friends trying to come up with something polite.

"You're pretty good," she said, "but your drummer is off and dragging you down."

"You a musician?" Mack asked, "You know what he's been through?"

"Long, long time ago, I played drums." She shrugged slightly. "I know a little about the things that drive people to drink. "

"Right," Mack said, "don't be shy. Let me know what you want to sing."

They sipped their drinks while a couple of girls sang a duet, then a man sang a song that soared painfully out of his range. Anna went up and sang surprisingly well.

"Come on, Marilyn," she said, "It's your turn."

Birungi nodded.

Marilyn sighed and took a sip of her Caesar.

"Ok." She got up and went over to where Mack had the computer running the karaoke.

"Do you have something that doesn't go too high?"

"You know Feeling Good?"

"Sure, doesn't everyone?"

He cued up the music and the words. Marilyn stood at the mike and looked out at the bar. She could barely see Anna and Birungi giving her the thumbs up. The words came up, and she started singing. She was a little surprised she could. The words and the music carried her away to someplace where she didn't always have to explain herself, where she was just Marilyn with no strange looks or awkward questions and it did feel good.

The applause when she finished made her blush and Anna hugged her as she sat down.

"Let's do a duet next."

"Do they have trios?" Birungi asked.

Mack found them an Andrews Sister piece none of them knew, but they laughed and giggled their way through it. There were only a couple of people Marilyn had ever had so much fun with. She went up to sing solo again and did another jazz number.

"Hey," Mack said, "a round of applause for our newest diva. Now I'm back up with my group to show you just how good she was singing."

The keyboardist came out and shook her head slightly. Mack frowned and looked at Marilyn.

"If your drum playing is half as good as your singing..."

"Oh no," Marilyn put up her hands, but Anna and Birungi pushed her toward the stage.

Marilyn sat herself behind the drums and picked up the drumsticks. She'd never used real drumsticks, the nerves she expected to feel before she sang hit her full force.

"Just keep the beat," Mack said back to her, then counted in the song. Marilyn got the timing in her head and tapped it out on the drum. The first song she just tapped the beat. In the second, she started using the foot pedal. The cobbled together set from years ago, she'd kick the tub she had as a base drum. In the third piece, she started trying some riffs and additions. She watched Mack as he played. It was just like days in the clubhouse before Ophelia. The fourth song was an original and Marilyn almost lost the rhythm of the music. She knew this song, or more truthfully, she knew its ancestor. They'd been practicing it the week before Mr. Telfer handed out scripts and Robert died.

Marilyn forced herself to play as waves of ice and fire rolled through her veins. What if he recognized her? What if he didn't?

"A round of applause for our guest drummer!" Mack announced at the end of the song. "You Ok?" he whispered, "Cher gave me the trouble sign."

"I'm good," she said before miraculously walking to her table without falling over or getting sick.

"Water," she replied to the server when he came to ask her what she wanted to drink.

The water flowed down her throat and she imagined it cooling the heat, easing the ice. Whatever happened, she'd be all right.

They finished the set then Mack and Cher came over to her table.

"Thanks for filling in," Mack said.

"You were great," Cher said, "I can't believe Mack didn't warn you about the original."

"That's fine," Marilyn said, "I knew it from years ago."

Mack stared at her for a long time, then he mouthed Robert, but what he said was "Ophelia?"

"I'm Marilyn now." She threw her arms around him. "I was thinking about you just the other day, and now here you are."

"Careful, you'll make Cher jealous." But he wrapped her just as tight and held her a long time.

"I'm guessing you're from one of his old groups," Cher raised an eyebrow.

"Smells like Rock and Roll," Marilyn said.

"I thought that was all guys." Cher wrinkled her forehead.

"It was," Mack said.

"I was Robert back then." Marilyn surprised herself at how easy it was to say.

"I should have known from the voice." Cher nodded and patted Marilyn on the shoulder. "But I got distracted by the talent. I've got to go check on Bo. You guys get caught up."

"Bo is our drummer, when he hasn't drunk himself into a stupor." Mack sighed.

"Why keep him on then?" Anna asked.

"Because he's a damn good drummer when he's sober. He usually makes it through the second set. I'd love to talk, but I have things to take care of as the manager of this place. Can you come by at lunch tomorrow and I'll introduce you to the crew."

"Sure," Marilyn said, "That would be great."