gift2

THE GIFT
CONTINUED

This gift, that had taken so many hours and so much love to create, was intended for the people who had given me so much with their music. They had saved my life, quite literally, by making music that was real, honest and hopeful in a world that was so often fake, deceitful and hopeless. I had collected healing crystals for their mind, body, and souls. Now I was standing, miserably wet and disheveled in a venue parking lot, dejected, hurt, unable to give this damned gift. Sharing it with a stranger.

I lit another cigarette and looked at the bus… the door mocked me.

The hoodie man, now that he had stepped closer to the light, was partially revealed. I took in the strong chin, full mouth and moustache that rested in the shadows cast by his aquiline nose. The lips smiled softly.

“This is… beyond beautiful. Who is this for?”

“The band. It’s for all of them. For when they’re on tour and all stressed out and emotionally strained. They’ve done so much for me with their music, I wanted to do something for them to say thank you. I believe in holistic healing. Each of those crystals corresponds with a major nerve bunch in the human body- used correctly, they have unique healing powers.” My words came out in a rush. I knew I sounded crazy as the Mad Hatter at Alice’s tea party. I held out my pack of cigarettes, silently offering him a smoke.

“I don’t think it’s crazy. I know a little bit about that shit- crown, throat, power seat. I have an aunt who’s into spiritual healing. This is… fucking thoughtful.”

He reached up and drew back his hoodie and shook out his hair.

My pack of smokes hit the wet pavement. I searched his face. I swept past the mouth, chin, nose, I’d already seen them. Shit. Two dark eyes, black brows, pierced three times. Black hair, shoulder length.

“Jonathan.” I murmured. My eyes flicked to the bus again. I think the confusion showed on my face. He followed my eyes to the bus. He held out his hands.

“What’s your name, pullover girl?”

“Annette.”

“Unbelievable, Annette. Fucking unforgettable, crazy cool. Joshua said there was some chic out in the parking lot with a box for me, and that I should get the fuck out here before you froze to death waiting. Sorry it took me so long to get out here.”

I cried. Tears ran down my already wet face. I licked them away.

“Shit. I thought… fuck. Fuck. I didn’t want to bother anyone. I wanted to leave it with the crew but they said no. I didn’t mean to bother anyone. I was even going to leave it with the bus driver but he told me to fuck off. I just wanted someone to have it.”

Jonathan Davis tapped the slip door shut on my work of art and pulled me close to him. He looked into my eyes. He winked. He took my hand in his and said,

“You’re not bothering me. In fact, I love it. And you’re going to show it to Brian and James, and they are going to fucking love it, too.” As we walked, hand in hand, past the bus where the three beautiful young women had entered, he leaned over to whisper in my ear, “That’s not even our bus.”