We pulled into the Vegas venue. Donny, Shawn, and a little blond boy were waiting for us in the parking lot. Parked alongside Shawn's bus was a truck the size of an ambulance van, lime green, with "Guitar Clinic" written on it in big white letters. It looked brand new. Wow! Was that our guitar truck? Cool! Let me at it!
Alan pulled us in next to it, and I was the first to jump out. The back door of the GC was open, so I climbed right in. It was loaded: two work benches, four racks of tools, two bunks, kitchenette, lavatory, and excellent lighting: a luthier's dream! "Wow!" I said aloud.
Shawn, Donny, and the little boy entered behind me. Donny slid over and gave me a hug, "Hey, dolly, you made it! Sorry we lost you in the weewee teepee!"
I laughed, "Yeah, Donny, that was weird!" I smiled at Shawn and the kid, who, upon closer scrutiny, was not a kid. He was a very, very petite man, maybe forty, not more than 5'2" and 95 lbs.
"Hi!" I said to them.
Shawn nodded. He still looked mad, even four hours later. "Wren, this is Jolly Green."
"Pleasure, M'am," he drawled, and smiled a slow smile.
"Nice to meet you, Mr Green."
"How about we use first names, M'am? Ah'm a casual kinda guy."
"Sure," I said, "I'll be 'Wren', and you can be 'Jolly'." I smiled.
"Yes, M'am!" he smiled.
Shawn shifted his weight restlessly. "Hey, look, Wren, uh..." he scratched the back of his head, "I'm sorry to tell you this...we let Joe go. But, don't worry, because Jolly and Donny are here. We'll be dividing the guitar tech duties among the three of you. You and Donny are employed by both bands; this tour is a joint venture." He shrugged. "Now, I know there are a lot of guitarists you'll be working with: me, Elmer, Venn, Brill, Voz...maybe six, and that's a lot, but, like I said, there are three of you with the technical skills, and plenty of willing hands to help with the less skilled chores." He shifted his weight back and smiled, "So, no worries, right?"
"We'll be great, Shawn!" enthused Donny.
"No problem," Jolly chipped in.
Me? I was terrified with Joe gone! God, no Joe! What happened? How come they fired him? My stomach was in knots.
"Okay, Shawn." I practically whispered it.
Donny sighed and put his arm around me, "Hey, we're the greatest!"
"I promise you, Wren, you've got nothing to worry about!" Shawn forced a smile. "Well, let's get back to work. Hey, cool van, huh?"
"Fabulous!" said Donny.
"A dream to drive!" said Jolly.
Shawn, Jolly, and Donny stepped out. I sat on a bunk and looked around. Lots of brand, spanking new tools surrounded me: Guitools, Roadie Wrenches, soldering irons, files, guitar mats: all new, all tools for my new trade. I even saw my very own tool belt hanging from a rack. Who put that there? I smiled, and my stomach started to feel better as nerves gave way to excitement.