Beat

“When was the last time you got up on stage?”

“Eight years ago.”

“Wow. It’s been a while. Have you tried before tonight?”

“No.” I chuckle, knowing how ridiculous I must sound. “I’ve been working up my courage.”

I expect him to laugh at my admission, but he doesn’t. “Did you always have a fear, or did something happen that scared you?”

“A little of both.” It’s the truth. Well, sort of. I was always nervous when I got on stage, but then…one day…everything changed.

“When you used to go on stage, what calmed you when your nerves got the best of you?”

I don’t have to think about the answer, yet I take a minute to steady myself before I speak. “My dad.” It’s ironic how the man could be the source of my strength and now, a big part of my fear.

Fly

“The first time I went on stage, other than at school, was here at Lucky’s. I was nervous. The crowd was pretty much filled with faces that I’d already won over before singing my first note—my friends, my mom’s friends, my dad’s buddies. It wasn’t a tough crowd. But I got up there and froze anyway. I looked around the room. Every smiling face my eyes landed on made my heart thump louder in my chest. Until I found my dad in the crowd. He was beaming proudly. It helped to take the edge off, although I still wasn’t sure I could go through with it. But then I looked down and saw he was barefoot.”

“Barefoot in the bar?”

I smile, remembering back to that exact moment. Looking down at his wiggling toes, the spirit of who my father was somehow cracked through all of my tension and brought me relief. “My dad always played barefoot. He liked the feel of the drum pedal under his foot and the vibration that caught on the floorboards and seeped up into his legs. But it was more than that. He said the earth under his feet made him feel grounded…somehow balanced. It helped him forget everything else and give everything over to the sound.” My voice breaks as I finish.

Fly

Although he keeps me physically close at his side, Fly

I look up into Fly

“So that’s what you need to do, then,” he declares with unerring confidence. “You want to know my secret for calming my nerves on stage?”

“You still get nervous?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Sometimes it’s worse than others. I can’t even figure out what makes it easier for one show than the next. You’d think it was the venue or size of the audience…but it’s just random for me.”

“Well, tell me your secrets, rockstar.”

“I’ll tell you. But if word gets out, it might tarnish my rockstar status. So you have to keep it to yourself.”

I make an X across my chest. “You have my word.”

“I recite the words to a song in my head and take a walk around the stage.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“The song is ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’”

“Oh.” I chuckle. “Guess that might soften the bad-boy rockstar image just a bit.”

“Did you know it has five verses?”

“‘Twinkle, Twinkle’? You mean there’s more to it than just, ‘how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky’?”

“Yep. A lot more. Most of the world doesn’t know the best parts.”

I shake my head, amused, yet intrigued by his enthusiasm. “Why did we only learn two verses as kids if there are five? And more importantly, why do you know the five?”

“I don’t know why we’ve been deprived of the other three. But I found out about them in college. Astronomy major. Did a paper on what makes stars appear to twinkle and titled it ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, How I Wonder What You Are.’ I looked up the lyrics to make sure I had them right, since half of us sing things we learned as a kid wrong, and found the whole song.”

“Astronomy major, huh? The more I get to know you, the more I find you’re a complete enigma, Fly

“Are you into enigmas?”

I laugh his harmless flirtation off, but all I can think is…shit, I’m into enigmas.

I sat around talking to Fly

That didn’t mean I spent the remainder of the night in a calm state—not by any means. I dropped another tray, screwed up half my orders and gave my last customer twenty-six dollars change from his eight-dollar drink…that he paid for with a twenty.

But I made it through without ru

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you again.” Fly

“I’m just a—”

“I know. That’s why I followed you out here. Figured you might either sneak out the door behind the drunk guy who just left, or could use some calming.”

“I’m still here.”

“I noticed. So I figured I’d give you a small reward now.”

Umm…yes, please.

“Oh yeah?” I turn around and face him. “And what is my reward for not ditching out?”

Fly

Then the traveler in the dark,

Thanks you for your tiny spark,

He could not see which way to go,

If you did not twinkle so.

Verse four. He’d given me verse three on the park bench.

A minute ago I was on edge at the thought of getting up on stage. Now I’m on edge for a totally different reason.

“It’s beautiful. Such a shame I didn’t know about it all these years.”

Fly

Before I get on the stage, I think back to when I was seven. My dad took me to a public pool out on Long Island. He was busy laying drum tracks for a studio album with his band. We’d passed the pool for three days before he got to take me. I stared longingly at the high diving board each time we drove by. I was a good swimmer—hotel pools were one of my favorite parts of traveling with the band—but I’d never been on a high dive board before. I was an anxious mix of excitement and nerves. By the time we walked into the fenced-off pool area, I could barely breathe. I wanted to back out. But Dad was excited to take me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. So I sashayed right over to the long line and forced a smile back at him as he waited by the edge of the pool. When it was my turn, I quickly climbed the stairs. Even more quickly, I walked toward the end of the board, telling myself I was just going to keep walking. Rip off the Band-Aid of fear I wore with one quick tear, and walk right off the end of the board. I made it three steps from the edge. Then my knees froze and crippled me. I couldn’t take another step.