Everyone settled into warmer, longer days. Angelina and Kaya were planning a summer festival, a pure celebration—not a presentation like the winter festival.
[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
They wanted Trevor to mingle with the regular art students, even if he studied mostly in Asheville. Strange but true: he knew none of the young dancers, painters, or poets. Used to be, Trevor drew everyone close, women especially. But now he had decided his girlfriends from last year were plenty.
With Angelina and Kaya on Sunday, the three of them lounging on the couch, Trevor confessed that he ached to make music like before. “Sing a bit. People jammin’. Someday.” Assured sitting between his Mommies, Trevor kissed each of their cheeks.
The next morning, he and Brian raced along the mountain trails, sharing a new found freedom they couldn’t name. “Maybe we’re just faster,” Brian said.
“Nuh,” Trevor said, “something more. Like we’re right together. Forward an upful.”
Hailey had gently faded away from Trevor’s days. Brian sometimes mentioned her. And Trevor said, “Always depend ’pon her.” Glad for Brian, Trevor was holding onto large gratitude. Thankye Lord. The push for Trevor to eat at their table or just flex with Brian and Hailey had evaporated.
Brian had declared he would accompany Trevor whenever he performed at the Avalon—the crowd had grown too demanding and he needed an escort if not a bodyguard (no matter how many bouncers stood nearby.) On Saturday nights Brian watched from the catwalk; Trevor’s followers moved in a constant, churning spiral.
And when Trevor disappeared? Brian had his car around the corner, engine running, side door open.
On Friday nights, Awake minus Trevor played two sets for the same mob, who were not regular people out for fun. Videos of Trevor whetted their hunger for Trevor in real life. It made them that much greedier, while the Avalon and Awake made more money than ever.
With Earle fronting Awake on Friday nights, Jacob and Trevor led the ritual bonfire at the Consortium. Drums and chanting fit with the poetry classes; the bonfires reflected on the art-college culture. True enough. No guitar; Trevor and Jacob played the congas. Alec Olsen chanted his poetry and then they all chanted traditional blessings.
Preparing for second bonfire without Earle, Trevor remembered the guiros he had bought from Miller’s music shop. At the time, he thought Polly could play them onstage with Awake’s back-up singers. She’d love performing. Except cho! How had he forgotten the round dance, the mash of followers?
Even here, she wouldn’t want to scrape the guiro solo. So Trevor found Crescent and gave the hand instruments to her. “You and Polly keep the beat with us, darling.”
Polly hurried back to her cabin and put on a dress and hat to match Crescent. The next day, when Trevor visited her, Polly said, “Crescent and me were the only bonfire girls. We were the stars.”
A relief. Ever since the water color class, she had talked about nothing but Trevor’s secret love and how radical it was. “I seen it, Trevor,” she kept saying. “Seen it plain. What do I get for not telling?”
“Nothing.”
Polly could say anything she liked. Hailey had stepped back without a word. Trevor was pure hard honor. Nothing and nobody could break that.
After visiting Polly, Trevor stepped into the light and saw Brian and Hailey wracked with sorrow. For days whenever he meditated, Brian and Hailey were holding each other, waiting in grief. Their love steadied their desperate minds, which reeled from some unimaginable trial.
Again and again Trevor would turn away, upset by their misery. Only to look back, anxious to learn what had happened. But the light burned painfully bright; his eyes went blank.
Not till Sunday after seeing Angelina and Kaya did Trevor’s sight cast farther forward. The sorrow remained but there was new joy. Late next year, near Christmas time, Brian and Hailey would have a baby girl.
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