Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A mari squealed as they raced down the sidewalk. "We cut that too close. But that song, girl? I think he's into you."

Joline wasn't a squealer, but for once, Amari's screech and breathless words echoed Joline's inner feelings. The cracked sidewalk tripped her up. Elise reached out and caught Joline's arm before she fell.

How did Englisch girls manage to get around in these shoes? Her feet ached from being at such an unnatural angle, and she teetered on the spindly spiked heels.

"Take them off," Elise urged, when they reached the apartment lobby.

Relieved, Joline complied. She was most comfortable going barefoot at home, but she wore sneakers in the city to protect her feet from sharp objects. The down-to-earth feeling of her soles against the ground contrasted with the glitziness of her slinky dress. She pulled the glittery tiara from her head.

Earlier tonight, she'd joined her friends' laughter and primping; now it made her ill. She couldn't wait to get out of these clothes. Never had she been so eager to pull her hair back into a bun, to slip on Plain clothes. Sneaking around like this wasn't worth it.

Except for one thing.

As the elevator creaked upward, Joline closed her eyes, and everything disappeared except Mark Troyer's eyes focused on her—and her alone. She sucked in a rapturous breath. And had he directed that last song to her? When would she ever see him again?

* * *

At the last chords of the band's final song, the crowd sprang to their feet for a standing ovation. Shouts of "Encore!" rippled through the room, then swelled to a booming demand.

Bud, who'd been planning to keep the club open until one, nodded. Sid, out for a buck, as always, wove through the crowd with his straw hat, collecting donations. Sid had taken to wearing Plain clothes for most of their gigs.

"People respect me more," he insisted.

That grated on Mark. He imagined the bishop's disapproval of an Englischer pretending to be Amish. But who was Mark to judge? He was doing the reverse—acting like he was Englisch.

Mark drew his attention back to the music. People were waiting for more songs.

After the band finished a series of encores and the hat overflowed with bills, Bud brought the impromptu set to an end. Once all the fans had collected their coveted autographs and snapped photos with their favorite band members, Bud ushered the crowds to the door.

"Guess this is the last time I'll see you guys," he said morosely. "Sid tells me you're headed out on the road trip of a lifetime."

Mark wanted to promise to return, but he had no idea when they could. Sid had already booked them well into the following year. Still, they owed Bud so much. He'd given them their start.

"Next time we're in this area," Mark assured him, "we'll definitely play here."

Behind Bud's back, Sid made a cutting motion across his throat and shook his head.

Mark defied him. "Put Bud on the schedule when we're near Lancaster."

Sid grimaced. "You're the boss."

It sure didn't seem like it. Sid had taken over everything. He told them where to go, what time to get up in the mornings, when to practice, and when to rest. He even took all the money and paid all the bills. Other than a small bit of pocket money Sid doled out weekly, they depended on him for every purchase. Whenever resentment reared its ugly head, Mark replaced it with gratitude for all the details Sid handled.

Tonight, as they prepared to leave, Sid was busy smoothing out and counting the money in his hat. "Several hundreds in here," he gloated. "People must be flush with Christmas cash."

At the word Christmas , sadness swirled through Mark. Had it only been five days since he'd left his family on Second Christmas? Six, now that they were two hours into the first day of the year.

Nostalgia filled him. Would he ever see any of them again once the tour officially started in mid-January? The final song of the night strummed at his heartstrings. In addition to his family, the girl standing in the doorway haunted him.

Jerry sidled up to him. "That girl really got to you."

Mark shook off the memories. "I was trying to figure out if she's Amish."

His friend raised his eyebrows. "She sure don't look it."

"Not what she was wearing, but her openness and innocence."

Sid strode over. "She's into you, but you can't get involved with these groupies. No distractions. I seen too many bands break up over relationships. Love 'em and leave 'em, I always say."

Indignation surged through Mark. That girl deserved better. Did she go see other music groups? What if one of the band members thought like Sid did? Mark wanted to protect her from something like that. But how could he? With no idea of who she was or where she lived, he couldn't warn her parents, although he'd like to. And what right did he have to criticize her when he wasn't honoring his own parents?

* * *

As soon as they reached the apartment, Joline tore off the clothes and washed off the makeup. Once she had her dress and apron adjusted, she breathed a little easier. With rapid movements, she twisted and tucked her hair into a tight bun and fixed her prayer kapp . Thrusting her arms into her coat sleeves, she urged her friends to hurry.

Elise laughed as she dusted more glitter on her eyelids. "Relax, Cinderella. We'll get you there before your coach becomes a pumpkin and your ball gown turns into rags."

Amari laughed. "Looks like that already happened."

Joline's lips tightened. Usually, she ignored her friends' mocking comments about her Plain clothes. Tonight, they grated on her. Or maybe her annoyance with herself was spilling out onto them.

"Let's go. We don't have long." Amari opened the door and waved them through.

As each second went by, Joline willed the elevator to go faster.

Her pulse, which had pounded with exhilaration from the music, now banged with fear. If she didn't get back by midnight or they couldn't find a group to sneak in with . . .

When they arrived at the STAR Center, five teens stood outside watching through the window as songs floated out. Joline wasn't so sure they'd provide the right cover, but Amari marched over to them.

"You going in?" she asked.

One boy looked her up and down. "Why? You want someone to kiss at midnight?"

"We need to sneak our friend inside." Amari waved at Joline, who could have died when all eyes turned to her.

Joline squirmed under their assessing glances.

"Whoa. You a bad girl?" one asked.

Another sneered. "What you gonna give us?"

Elise gulped. "They have food and stuff inside."

A tall, skinny teen snickered. "That ain't what we had in mind."

One of his buddies elbowed him. "Maybe doing a good deed will give us luck in the new year. Plus, it's cold out here."

A few of them made faces, but they formed a circle around Joline. All of them pressed so close, they made her uncomfortable. The clanking chains, tattoos, and strange sweetish smoke brought back memories of being grabbed in the alley by that man with a knife. She swallowed the waves of fright washing over her. Tensing her body, she worried about protecting herself if they tried anything. She'd never have Nettie's skills, but people here would come to her rescue if these guys overpowered her.

With Amari and Elise leading the way, they entered the building in a tight knot. The teens waited until Joline had slipped into the massive crowd gathered to watch the star drop and then raced upstairs for refreshments.

Joline wanted to thank God she'd gotten inside safely, but should she be grateful she'd gotten away with disobedience? Somehow that didn't seem right.

A hush fell over the crowd as the star flickered on. Then the countdown began. Shivering with anticipation, Joline yelled the numbers with the crowd, and the giant sparkling star descended from the third floor overhead into the first floor lobby.

She'd never seen anything this beautiful outside of nature. The star glided lower and lower. Three! Two! One!

Happy New Year!

The crowd burst into thunderous applause. Music blasted from above, and people started singing words that sounded nothing like Englisch. After a quick wave to her friends who were singing along, Joline snaked swiftly through the press of people. She had to get upstairs.

If she broke her promise, Daed and Nettie wouldn't trust her to stay up late again. Even worse, if they ever found out what she'd done tonight, they'd never let her out of their sight.

* * *

The next few weeks flew by for Mark, and then the band loaded up Sid's van with their equipment, instruments, and duffel bags. Giddy with excitement, they headed off for their first professional gig.

During the winter months, they played in Southern and Western states. Once spring arrived, they headed for the East Coast. After a while, traveling grew old. All the cheap hotel rooms smelled of sweat and mildew and stale cigarette smoke. The venues blurred together. So did the songs.

The only thing that kept Mark going was writing new songs. The band performed on some local TV shows, then went national. Their songs got radio play time across the country, and newspapers in many locations interviewed them. Sid did a great job of getting advance publicity, and he scheduled the tour to take advantage of the weather. They relied on him for everything as the first year rolled into the second, and then the third. After four years on the road, they were all exhausted.

So Sid scheduled a Thanksgiving Eve gig at Bud's club in Lancaster. Sid hadn't given them their usual weekly pocket money the past two weeks, but he'd promised them a big Christmas bonus and a whole week off after tonight. That lifted everyone's spirits, and they threw themselves into this final performance before their break.

When the concert ended, Mark searched for Sid. He usually slipped out as they played their final numbers to bring the van around for the instruments and equipment. Mark had seen Sid leave, but the van was nowhere in sight. They couldn't call him because he always held on to their phones while they played. They'd all purchased phones with their first earnings so they could plan gigs, but Sid didn't want to chance one accidentally interrupting a song. He stored them in a special bag he kept in the van trunk.

After a half hour of waiting, Bud approached them. "Listen, guys, it's almost two a.m. I really need to get home. I have to get some shut-eye before morning."

"But what about our—" Mark gestured toward the stage.

"Leave your equipment here for now. My place will be closed tomorrow, but you can pick it up the day after Thanksgiving. You don't have any gigs that day, right?"

Jerry nodded. "We have the week off."

Bud herded them to the door and thanked them again. Then he waved and locked up.

They shivered in the frigid weather. They hadn't dressed warmly because they'd only rushed from the van into the venue. Normally, they had a crew of two who handled all the equipment, but Sid had given those guys time off, and both of them had traveled to their homes in Maryland and Virginia for the holidays.

Mark worried the van had broken down or Sid had been in an accident. "We should walk around to see if we can find where he parked." At Mark's insistence, they walked several blocks in every direction.

"Let's just go to the hotel and get warmed up." Jerry stamped his feet in the slush. "My toes are already frozen."

"Yeah," Abel agreed. "Maybe he drove somewhere to get something to drink. That's what he did two years ago in Georgia when we took a few days off."

Jerry blew on his fingers. "But that time he waited until we had everything in the van, and he dropped us at the hotel first."

"Maybe he thought he'd get back before we ended, but he got caught in traffic," Mark suggested.

"If so," Jerry said, "when he sees we're not at Bud's, he'll know to come to the hotel."

They all trudged toward the hotel, but when they headed inside, the desk clerk stopped them before they got in the elevator. "Your manager refused to pay the bill for your rooms for the rest of the week, so we've rented them out. He said you had other accommodations." He gestured to their duffels piled in a corner near the counter.

While they all stood there shell-shocked, trying to make sense of that, the man bustled over to the desk and returned with an envelope. Mark took it from him and opened it.

"Well, guys, it's been fun, but I have bigger fish to fry. I found the next big star, and I've booked her in Vegas next week. I switched all your venues for next year to her band. Sorry to leave you hanging, but you're in your hometown, so you all have family. And don't bother coming after me for money. You didn't have a contract, so you have no leg to stand on. Good luck, Sid"

"What?" Jerry shrieked. "He took off with all our money?"

In disbelief, Mark reread the note. As it sank in, sickness filled him. Most likely, his bandmates could return home, but he couldn't. Mrs. Musselman had more grandchildren now, and they always stayed with her during Thanksgiving and Christmas weeks. She'd have no room for him.

He had no money, no job, and no place to live. What was he going to do?