Midnight Blues by Jeremy Taylor

Author:Jeremy Taylor [Taylor, J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LS Prestige
Published: 2025-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9:

Midwest

Motion

“You’ll rent the car from me, or not at all.” — Bill

Frankie Keys and his bandmates were carried northward, the train’s steady rhythm mirroring their growing anticipation for Kansas City. Frankie found solace in the blur of passing scenes as the landscape shifted from open fields to urban sprawl. The clatter of the tracks and the occasional whistle created a steady heartbeat, a reminder of the eager audiences awaiting them.

Across from Frankie, Chubbs sat with his briefcase open, his brow furrowed as he meticulously reviewed schedules and venue details. His focus was unyielding, each document a crucial piece of their tour. Red, on the other hand, was a bundle of energy. Unable to sit still, he paced the narrow aisles, his voice bouncing off the walls as he practiced vocal riffs. Each note revealed his relentless drive to improve. Meanwhile, Cal, ever the silent guardian, observed quietly, his presence a reassuring constant in their journey.

Their morale soared as they arrived in Kansas City. The show was nearly flawless, with Frankie’s melodies captivating the crowd’s heart and soul. But as the night came to a close, Red couldn’t resist adding his own flair. Overcome by overzealous ambition, he attempted a new dance move, only to trip and tumble across the stage.

Frankie, unable to suppress a smile, extended a hand to help him up. “Damn it, Red, just stick to the script,” he teased. “Next time, let’s focus on the music, yeah?”

Red nodded, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Got it, Frankie. No more surprises.” Dusting himself off, he adjusted his coat and, with a playful bow, ended with a high hop and click of his heels.

As the train carried them toward St. Louis, the shared stories of Kansas City lingered in their minds. America’s heartland unfolded outside the windows in golden hues, fields stretching endlessly into the horizon. The comforting aroma of roasted coffee and warm pastries mingled with the crisp morning air.

As they stepped off the train, St. Louis was everything Frankie had anticipated. The streets buzzed with energy, people moving with purpose, their hustle sparking a sense of drive in Frankie. He absorbed the city’s rhythm, lost in thought, until Cal nudged him. “The car,” he reminded, pulling Frankie back to the task at hand.

When they arrived at the car rental service, the mood subtly shifted. A collective tension settled over the group, their chatter fading into an uneasy silence.

From the back, a stout man emerged, his scowl deepening as he peered over the counter at them, his eyes sharp and scrutinizing.

Chubbs immediately sensed something was off.

The owner’s voice carried an unwelcome edge. “I’ll need to see identification from each of you boys before we proceed.”

Frankie, taken aback by the unexpected request, exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with his companions. He pulled out his information and asked Cal for his. “We are the only two who will be driving the vehicle, sir,” Frankie said, extending their paperwork toward the man.

The owner grew more critical as he assessed each of their faces.

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