Rock the Boat by Sigmund Brouwer

Author:Sigmund Brouwer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV031040, JUV039140, JUV021000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2015-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

“Cool,” Elle said.

The bass guitarist looked at Webb. “You still here?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“I’m wondering how you know you have the best guitarist before you hear both of us.”

“They know,” Elle said flatly to Webb. “Trust me. Even if they didn’t, who would want you anyway? Gerald told me all about you.”

Told you what? Before Webb could croak out the question, the bass player set down his guitar and took a step toward Webb.

“Take a hint,” he said. “You’re not welcome here.”

Webb’s face burned. He’d received an email invitation to audition, but now it seemed rigged. He’d done nothing to deserve this hostility. Or the humiliation. But clearly, nothing he could do would help the situation.

He picked up his guitar case to leave.

The bassist spoke to the woman behind the keyboard. She had a pinched face and blond hair in a long straight ponytail.

“How about you get us started?” he said.

She gave a quick nod.

“Then,” the bass guitarist said, turning to Elle, “you jump in with guitar and vocals. You know the song better than we do, so that should be simple.”

“Ready to rock,” she said.

Webb was halfway to the door when the first simple notes of the piano reached him. Catchy beginning, he thought. Clean and simple.

He was almost at the door when the bass guitar and drums kicked in, and he reached it as Elle jumped in on guitar and hit her opening vocals.

You gonna have to know we’re gonna mess up

You gotta know we might wreck stuff

Webb froze. Those were his lyrics.

He didn’t turn, but listened.

You’re gonna see us learn our lessons

But it’s gonna be our best of…

Webb felt blood rush to his face again. This time it wasn’t from embarrassment or humiliation but from anger. Those were his lyrics.

He spun around, anticipating the chorus, and the white heat of his anger took him back toward the stage as he heard, feeling a combination of disbelief and certainty:

Yeah, we’re gonna rock the boat

That’s the only way to know

We’re gonna have to rock the boat

Yeah, that’s the only way to go.

Webb kept marching. He stopped in front of the stage. He didn’t flinch as the bass guitarist put up a hand to stop the music.

“What’s it going to take for you to figure out you’re not welcome here?” the bass player said. Once again he put down his guitar and took a threatening step toward Webb.

“Step off that stage,” Webb said, “and you’re going to regret it.”

Something in the coldness of his voice must have sent a clear signal. Webb was in no mood for anyone to mess with him.

“That’s my song,” he said to Elle. “My lyrics. My music. Every note, every word, every chord.”

“Shocker,” she said. “Like the two Gibsons missing from Dean’s studio were yours too?”

The bass guitarist held up his cell phone. “Check it out. I’m five seconds away from calling 9-1-1. You’ve been asked to leave, and you’ve threatened us with physical violence. When the cops come, you’re going to have to explain a lot more than missing guitars.

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