Centerfield
The heat of the day had disappeared with the setting sun, leaving a pleasantly cool evening in Key West with only a few clouds here and there to dim the moonlight in an otherwise clear sky. GW leaned back in his seat and brought his beer glass to his lips as he listened to an obviously drunk tourist from Minnesota try to imitate Kenny Chesney with 'When The Sun Goes Down'. Some musicians looked down on karaoke, but GW enjoyed singing for the fun of it and didn't really care if he was being paid to perform with his band or just kicking back with friends and belting a few out. Tonight he was doing just that down in Two Friends Patio Bar with a civilian cop he'd befriended shortly after arriving in Key West.
The Marine winced as the doughy faced tourist mangled another verse and turned to the other occupant of the table. "Kenny Chesney isn't poetry to begin with, but this is painful."
Kris grimaced as the drunken tourist all but butchered the song, abusing her eardrums and everybody else's. "This is really painful," she agreed with a nod of her head. "I wonder who put him up to it." Her eyes regarded the group of people he'd obviously come with and bit her lower lip, nodding at the cackling blonde in the middle. "I'd say she did. What about you?" She picked up her beer and took a slow pull from it, catching wayward drops of it in the corner of her mouth with her tongue. It felt good to be out, with a friend, and just enjoying some time away from everything that made reality so real. She slipped a curling piece of dark hair behind her ear and turned to GW. "Are we here for any reason other than to make fun of the tourists?"
"I think you're right," He agreed before taking another sip of his beer. Beer was one of the little things he'd missed in Iraq and Afghanistan during his time overseas, being Muslim countries the Powers That Be (of the conventional variety) had prohibited alcohol to avoid insulting the locals. "She must be his girlfriend or wife."
"You need another reason?" GW responded to her question innocently, but the grin on his face told of an ulterior motive. "I thought we might have some fun ourselves, in addition to enjoying the best barbecue ribs in Key West." No sooner had he mentioned the ribs than the waitress brought over their meals.
"Thank god," he muttered to Kris as the male tourist finished his song and stepped off the stage. If the man had tried to go for another song GW wouldn't have been responsible for what would happen next.
Kris nodded in affirmation of GW's assessment of the blonde and the misled tourist grasping the microphone in between two big hands. "I think you may be right. There's no way any guy would do what he's done for just a friend." She shifted her focus from the tourist to GW, lifting an eyebrow at the expression on his face. "You know what? I don't trust that expression of yours. Not one little bit." GW was up to something, he had to be.
When the food arrived Kris leaned back and said her thanks, briefly running GW's sentence over in her head. "If you think I'm getting up on that stage you've got another thing coming." She'd definitely need a lot more beer in her before she felt halfway brave enough to try singing in front of a huge crowd like the one in the bar tonight.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the tourist stepped (stumbled) off the stage then eyed the group, hoping that they wouldn't try for another song.
"What? You mean you don't trust me?" GW grinned at her and dug into his ribs. "I'm shocked, shocked I tell you!" His Cajun accent thickened slightly as his amusement deepened. "Don't you worry none. If it's alcohol you need, I reckon we can get that taken care of sure enough. I'll even go first, after we eat."
A redhead from another group of tourists made her way over to the tiny stage and took the microphone in her hands before starting to belt out a passable version of Madonna's 'Material Girl'.
Kris' facial expression was priceless at the new song serenading her eardrums, it was a mixture of horror and dismay. "Alcohol," she concluded with a nod of her head. "More alcohol is needed." She dragged her eyes away from the tourist prancing about the stage and picked up a rib, pulling it apart before taking a bite. She caught the sauce on the edge of her thumb and nodded. "If we are going to do this you're totally going first."
She picked up her beer and took another sip.
GW matched her and eyed the prancing redhead appreciatively. The movement was doing all sorts of interesting things to her anatomy and she wasn't wearing all that much.
"So how's work? Seeing an uptick with the economy being rough or is it pretty steady?" He figured distracting her with shoptalk might help ease her anxiety at the idea of going on stage a bit.
Kris caught GW's wandering gaze and rolled her eyes, reaching across to give him a playful smack upside the head. "Eyes front, soldier." Kris grinned and winked before sitting back, giving GW a smaller smile. "You know you could probably get her number if you really wanted to." She finished off her rib and picked up another. "I don't think she'd mind very much judging by the looks she keeps giving you."
She shrugged her shoulders. "Work is... busy, streets seem more dangerous these days and people have really short fuses. Not that I blame them, it's just difficult." She turned a ring over her thumb. "Had a couple close calls with a knife here and there, but it's no big."
"A guy can look!" GW protested mildly, more irritated at the 'soldier' reference than the slap at the side of the head and even that rated no more than a quirked eyebrow. At least she hadn't called him a squid or Air Force puke.
"We'll see." He was past the stage where he was out to tap anything that had the proper curves and a pretty face, but at the same time he was between girlfriends at the moment. Maybe she was a local he hadn't seen before, it wouldn't surprise him. His last relationship had ended badly, with the strain of military life being too much for his girlfriend at the time and they'd ended things a few months ago.
"As long as they're just close calls." He nodded. "If you ever want some self defense tips let me know, I've been thinking about giving lessons on the side anyway. We're seeing an uptick in domestic violence calls, stress from the economy on top of stress from the wars make things kinda tense sometimes."
Kris snorted and sat back, hooking her boot in the rung of her stool. "That's what you always say." She'd come to know GW as something of a flirt. Kris sipped at her beer then ran the edge of her thumb over the top of the bottle, feeling the movement of condensation across her skin. "Self defense?" Kris repeated, shaking her head. "I think I'm alright in that department considering the department is big on their officers knowing how to defend themselves and we're always encouraged to keep up that training." Not that she wouldn't consider it if she felt she'd do a better job with some training from a Marine. "But I might take you up on that one day."
She tipped her head as the redhead began to wiggle her behind in time to the beat. "I've had a lot more call outs for that sort of thing."
GW finished off his ribs as he eyed the redhead wiggle, and he wondered just how much she'd had to drink before she got on stage. Probably a tourist: a local wasn't as likely to put on a show if they might run into someone at the grocery or drug store later.
"Marine Corps Martial Arts is a bit more...direct, maybe. No pussyfooting around trying to restrain somebody, but put them down for the count quickly." And possibly fatally, he didn't bother adding. Kris knew enough about martial arts to be able to figure out how much force to use and when, he wasn't going to lecture her as if she were a rookie cop or boot recruit. "Just let me know."
The redhead finished her song and GW watched as she sashayed back to her table. "So you heading north for Thanksgiving or staying in the keys?" He was stuck regardless, having requested leave during the Christmas holidays he hadn't even considered wasting his time applying to head out over Thanksgiving.
Kris adjusted the way her metal studded belt sat around her hips and shrugged her shoulders. "Haven't really thought about it. I'll probably just do what I always do, swing back to my mom's and watch the food disappear into whichever brother is home for the holiday." She sipped at her beer and watched as the redhead came to the end of her song and took her time in bowing to the crowd, soaking up the reaction. "I'm hoping Antonio might be back for it this year, but I'm not holding my breath."
Her fingers itched for a cigarette but she refrained as it meant going outside and she was enjoying the show.
GW nodded, he'd forgotten her family lived in the area. So many of the locals were transplants from someplace else it was hard to remember sometimes that the city did have people who'd spent all their lives here.
"I'm hosting a party at my boat that afternoon. Have some seafood and jambalaya instead of turkey and listen to the Cowboys-Raiders game on the radio." There was no way he was going to try and cook a turkey on his boat, he'd slide over to the chow hall and have what passed as Thanksgiving dinner military style. It wouldn't be the first time.
The Cajun finished his beer and gestured to the waitress that he wanted another round. "You want another beer?"
"Sounds like fun," Kris remarked as she stole another rib and took a couple bites from it. "A lot of people attending? I'm dreading meeting Rosa's new boyfriend and she's decided to bring him along this Thanksgiving. Apparently it's serious this time." Kris wasn't holding her breath, Rosa went through a lot of relationships like they were a pair of shoes she just got tired of.
She nodded her head. "Yeah, please." Kris was going to need more alcohol before she even considered giving the tourists a run for their money.
"Always fun meeting your siblings' love interests." GW smirked and drummed his fingers on the tabletop in time with the beat of 'Sympathy for the Devil' now playing over the sound system. "'Course being the oldest brother I had to put the fear of god into my sisters' boyfriends. Even more fun now than when I was in High School, being the brother who's also the big bad Marine. They hear stories, and I think that scares them more than the reality when I finally show up." Being a decorated combat vet had its advantages sometimes.
"Your brothers ever scare off your boyfriends?"
Kris smirked and nodded her head. "All the time. It's a miracle I got asked out on a date let alone had a steady boyfriend." Antonio and Daniel both felt like they had some sort of right to critique Kris' choice of men, they even did it now, when she went out. She picked up what was left of her beer and swallowed it down, brushing the back of her hand across her mouth.
"Antonio comes up with some inventive ways to scare them off. Daniel just talks art and stuff at them until their heads explode."
The waitress dropped off another round of beers and GW raised his in salute of her brothers' creativity. "I'll have to remember that last one and talk music until an explosion occurs, it'd be a change of pace. I remember one time I'd gone out hunting with Daddy and my little brothers, and my oldest sister Janette had a date that night. Poor guy came in to the living room and found us all cleaning our guns, Janette was furious with us." He laughed and shook his head. Good times. "He ended up marrying her a few years ago, we still tease him about it every now and again."
He took a long swig of his beer and grinned at her, gesturing at her beer with his glass. "Drink up, the karaoke machine is calling your name."
"Wow," Kris murmured with a small grimace. "That poor guy must have been scared shitless." Although the imagery was kind of funny. "Guess I should be glad that Antonio has to leave his guns on base and Daniel has gotten out of the way of carrying art supplies with him everywhere in case he gets inspired." At this point Kris rolled her eyes obviously despairing of her brother for being so obsessive about his one true passion, but she couldn't really hold it against him.
Kris picked up her beer and took a sip, nodding in the direction of the karaoke machine. "If I have to then you have to as well. It's only fair."
"Nah, he wasn't too scared." GW shook his head. "It wasn't like he'd never gone hunting with his kinfolk himself, but he got the message sure enough."
The Cajun snorted at her challenge. "Kris, that stage doesn't scare me none." He'd been singing and playing the fiddle in front of crowds since he'd been in junior high, it held no mystery to him. Singing karaoke was light duty. The marine eyed her suspiciously. "I have your word you'll go up after I do a song? You have a nice voice and you should use it, be a shame to let it go to waste."
Kris shrugged and picked an imaginary piece of lint off the denim that wrapped her thigh. "Maybe?" She glanced up at him through her eyelashes before she blew out a long breath, picking up her beer to take a considerable swallow. "Yeah, you have my word." The mention of her voice brought about a roll in her eyes and a self conscious movement of hair behind her ear. "I can sing in tune, it's not exactly wonderful."
The off duty police officer rested forward onto the table and gestured towards the stage. "I think this is your cue."
GW grinned and took a long swig of his beer. "Don't sell yourself short Kris, you think a lot of those singers you hear on the radio are all that good without backup singers, band, and autocue?" He chuckled and pushed himself out of his chair to head to the stage. He ambled over and glanced through the catalog on the computer, eyebrows going up at one of the offered songs. "Can't believe this is on here." He muttered. It definitely wasn't a typical song a karaoke performer would attempt, but he'd been singing it for years. Why not?
He took up the microphone. "Hope y'all got your earplugs in, cause this is gonna be loud." The Cajun advised, then hit the button to start the song. The familiar strains of 'Travellin' Band' started over the speaker system and GW counted down until it was time for him to sing. With only a cursory glance at the screen, he started belting out the lyrics in the growly, fast paced style that Fogerty had made famous:
Seven Thirty Seven comin' out of the sky. Oh! Won't you take me down to Memphis on a midnight ride, I wanna move.
[Chorus:] Playin' in a Travelin' Band. Yeah! Well, I'm flyin' 'cross the land, try'in' to get a hand, Playin' in a Travelin' Band.
Take me to the hotel, Baggage gone, oh, well. Come on, come on, won't you get me to my room, I wanna move.
[Chorus]
Listen to the radio, Talkin' 'bout the last show. Someone got excited, Had to call the State Militia, Wanna move.
[Chorus]
Oh! WOW!
Here we come again on a Saturday night Oh with your fussin' and a fightin' Won't you get me to the rhyme, I wanna move.
[Chorus]
Oh! WOW!
Oh! I'm playin' in a Travelin' Band; Playin' in a Travelin' Band. Won't you get me, take me hand Well, I'm playin' in a Travelin' Band, Well, I'm flyin' 'cross the land. Tryin' to get a hand, Playin' in a Travelin' Band, OH! WOW!
Hey!
Kris watched GW with a smile on her face, taking just a moment to look around at the crowd. Sure enough that red-head from earlier was eyeing him up. Kris merely shook her head and rolled her eyes, giving GW an encouraging whistle with two well placed fingers in her mouth: a trick she'd learned pretty early on when she wanted to get her family's attention. When GW's solo finally came to a close Kris sat back on her stool and gave a rousing applause.
The man could sing and he was her friend so why not make her support known?
She picked up her beer and swallowed a couple mouthfuls, desperately seeking some dutch courage.
GW smiled and bowed at the applause, giving Kris a wink then focusing his attention on the others including the redhead. "Thank you, thank you very much. Y'all are a great crowd. If you like that you ought t' check out the 'Swamp Rats', you'll find em playing just about every Friday or Saturday night around town someplace. Now, I'm gonna do one more song then my buddy Kris over here is gonna come up and serenade you all. Be nice to her, she gets a bit nervous on the stage sometimes and she has a nice voice. Don't wanna chase her off the stage, non?"
The Cajun glanced through the song selection and decided to do a bit less challenging Fogerty tune to lower the tempo some. He didn't want to get them so whipped up that Kris would feel intimidated. Soon the familiar strains of 'Centerfield' came over the speakers and he started up again:
Well, beat the drum and hold the phone - the sun came out today! We’re born again, there’s new grass on the field. A-roundin’ third, and headed for home, it’s a brown-eyed handsome man; Anyone can understand the way I feel.
Chorus: Oh, put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today; Put me in, coach - I’m ready to play today; Look at me, I can be centerfield.
Well, I spent some time in the mudville nine, watchin’ it from the bench; You know I took some lumps when the mighty casey struck out. So say hey willie, tell ty cobb and joe dimaggio; Don’t say "it ain’t so", you know the time is now.
Chorus
Yeah! I got it, I got it!
Got a beat-up glove, a homemade bat, and brand-new pair of shoes; You know I think it’s time to give this game a ride. Just to hit the ball and touch ’em all - a moment in the sun; (pop) it’s gone and you can tell that one goodbye!
Chorus Chorus Yeah!
He ended the song to more applause and had a wide grin on his face as he stepped off the stage. The Cajun swung by the redhead's table and exchanged a few words, coming away with a name and phone number scribbled on a bar napkin. He plopped down in his seat next to Kris and grinned unrepentantly at the civilian cop. "So, got your courage up?"
Kris had by this point downed the entire contents of the bottle and was simply catching the lingering traces on her bottom lip when GW returned to the table in the wake of applause and obvious admiration. "I guess," she muttered quietly. Kris took a deep breath and straightened up her back, almost as if she was gearing herself up for a fight. The stage was a scary place if you weren't a natural born performer and Kris was way too self conscious to ever really embrace the limelight.
"Here goes nothing," she murmured as she finally rose to her heeled feet and began the sway through the tables and crowd. The moment her feet touched the stage it felt like her stomach was trying to sink through the floor and her head was about to implode at the notion of singing in front of such a big crowd. Thankfully the only person she knew was GW and she trusted him not to make fun of her later. Kris lifted the microphone to her mouth and hissed at the feedback, immediately apologizing to the crowd a second later. "Sorry about that folks. Now... I can't promise I'll be as good as my friend over there, but he's in a band so..." Kris winked in GW's direction and then turned her attention to selecting a song.
It was only when the chords for Joan Jett's 'I love rock n' roll' began that Kris allowed herself to relax, breaking into a whiskey rough rendition of the song complete with a hand in the hair and movements of the hips. Kris' self consciousness lasted as long as it took her to get into the song and with a song like this one it was easy to get lost in it, belting it out and simply enjoying the moment. She'd probably stumble over her words when it was time to leave the stage, but for the moment she wasn't lacking for words.
GW clapped and whistled along with the rest of the crowd. Kris might be uncomfortable getting on stage, but once she got over the stage fright her entire demeanor changed and she put everything she had into the song. If he could just get her past her automatic fear of being the center of attention she'd be a natural singer.
Of course, that would be like teaching a horse to do algebra and he knew as much. He gave her a thumbs up and picked up his beer as he waited to hear what she'd try next.
Kris had no intention of belting out another song given that it had taken her some considerable dutch courage and lots of deep breathing to sing the frst. Kris brought the current song to a close by dropping her voice, practically caressing the last chord like she would a lover. She lifted her head and offered the crowd a smile as they clapped in response. "Thanks," she muttered into the microphone before she simply wiggled it in the direction of a young man in the front row. "You've been eyeing this all evening so why not give it a shot?" The young man chuckled and took the microphone from Kris, feeling the shove from his friends until sure enough his feet hit stage.
The off duty police officer watched with a smirk then made good her escape, dropping down onto the stool beside GW. "There, all done!"
GW just shook his head and laughed. "You couldn't get off of that stage fast enough, could you?" He'd hoped she might try to handle a second one but it clearly wasn't to be. "Missed your calling, Officer Michaels. You could have been the next American Idol." The Cajun was ribbing her a little bit, but there was seriousness lurking underneath the mischief.
The youngster that had replaced Kris was mangling 'Sweet Child o' Mine' by trying to mimic Axl Rose, much to the amusement of his friends who were cheerfully mocking him as he went.
Kris snorted and then gave a laugh at the idea of her being the next American Idol. "Nah," she said with a shake of her head. "I'd probably end up punching Simon Cowell in the face." Kris grimaced at the young man on stage and turned to GW. "You wanna get out of here? I should probably head home given that I have an asscrack of dawn shift tomorrow." She wished she was joking, but alas she was not.
She rummaged in her wallet and left enough to cover her half of the dinner and alcohol before getting to her feet, pulling her figure hugging denim jacket around her. "You can walk me home."
"My pleasure madam," GW bowed with a flourish after standing up and dropping a pair of twenties on the table to cover the food and beer they'd consumed. With the light breeze coming off the water it felt just cool enough to want long sleeves in the evening when outside, and he slipped his long sleeve tee over his head as they walked out.
"I've been to a lot of places in the last decade or so," GW observed as they started down the street, "but I have to say this is the best duty station I've ever had." At least as far as off-duty life went anyway. He almost missed being in an infantry unit sometimes after a day of dealing with drunks and wife-beaters in his duty as a military policeman.
Kris felt the breeze in her hair where it disturbed strands and ducked her head to try and keep them from getting into her eyes. "It's not that bad of a city." She rummaged in her pockets and tugged a cigarette out, figuring it was okay for her to light up now that they were out of the bar and she couldn't pollute anybody else's lungs with her secondhand smoke. "But I was born and raised here so I'm biased." Her lips tugged into a smirk before they closed around the filter of the cigarette that was shortly lit by Kris cupping the flame of her lighter.
She exhaled a stream of smoke and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
The night was always so strange, Kris felt... different, more aware and less relaxed. It was difficult to pinpoint and she didn't much care for it, this constantly being on edge at night thing.
GW itched to bum a smoke off her, but he restrained the impulse. He'd been smoke-free for three months now and he wanted to keep it that way. It had been easy to start up in high school, and the stress of repeated tours in combat zones hadn't helped the addiction go away, but he'd finally managed to kick the habit over the summer with the help of the patch and sheer willpower.
"I always knew I was gonna leave Crowley." He commented, taking the cue from her statement about living in Key West all her life. "Unless you could get a job with the oil companies or the State there wasn't much reason to stick around. Good thing I left too, Katrina and Rita just wiped things right off the map in some spots. Still, if you can stay with where your roots are, more power to you."
Kris ducked her head at another cool breeze and simply let the smoke curl around the corners of her mouth before finally exhaling in one long breath. "I'd rather be close to my family than not." It was true as she and her family were really close and it was part of what gave Kris all her strength. "I think it wouldn't be home if I didn't have my mother calling me up at 3 am worried that I haven't gotten home."
She flicked ash aside and then simply took another drag. "It's the small things that make a place a home."
"Don't blame you. We Cajuns don't like to stray too far from home normally," GW nodded in understanding. "If I hadn't joined the Corps I wouldn't have gone much further than New Orleans or Houston probably. Lots of chances for a musician to make his mark there." He definitely would have tried his hand at playing for a living, he'd already been making decent money playing weekends during high school.
They turned a corner and started up the street, it wouldn't be more than a few minutes before he'd seen Kris to her door. "Your folks at all worried about you being in Law Enforcement?"
Kris shrugged her shoulders. "I think my mom worries more than my dad, it helps that he's in the military." She took one last final drag and held onto the smoke for a few moments as she stopped to crush the cigarette out beneath the sole of her boot. "Plus Antonio is doing the same thing only it's more dangerous so I think if I was my folks I'd worry more about the kid stationed abroad."
When they got to the front door leading into the apartment Kris shared with two other people she began to rummage out her keys. "God, I hope Simon remembered to replace the bulb in the hallway. Last time I came home I ended up tripping over the cat and waking everybody in the apartment up." Kris twisted the keys around in her fingers and turned to face GW once they came to a stop. "Don't want to wake my other housemate up given that she crawls in at all hours, the banes of being in public service."
She offered GW a smile. "Thanks for tonight, it was fun and it's good to see you."
"Parents worry more about their daughters than their sons." GW shrugged. "Your dad seems a straight up guy the few times I've talked with him on base." Not someone he'd want to mess with without a good reason. There were a few special forces guys on base, he didn't know what they did or where they went and he knew better than to ask.
He smiled back at Kris and shook his head. "I always have fun with you Kris. Even if you're too much of a scaredy-cat sometimes for your own good." The Cajun winked at her. "You gonna swing by the boat on turkey day? Jambalya made from my Tante Marie's secret recipe and some fresh shrimp, you'll love it I guarantee." He drawled out the final word as far as it could go, exaggerating his accent for the fun of it.
Kris shifted her weight from foot to foot, reminiscent of most decision making, the hovering between yes or no. Eventually she settled on her right and simply gave the Cajun a slow smile. "Yeah, sure, why not?" The deliberate exaggeration of his accent brought about a roll of Kris' eyes and a playful shove to his shoulder, which by all counts was more powerful than she probably realised. "Gotta taste this infamous shrimp you keep going on about."
The keys were turned again until Kris' fingers closed around the right ones. "It'll make a change that's for sure."
GW let out a 'woof' as the air escaped his lungs from the shove. "How your parents packed so much strength into a tiny package I'll never know." He told her, reaching up to rub the shoulder more to tease her than any real sense of injury. "You'd give some linebackers I know a run for their money. Come on over after eating with your folks, the party'll go on all day."
Kris ducked her head and scuffed her boots against the ground, lifting her shoulders into another shrug. "I grew up with two older brothers, had to get strong." That was a lie, but she had no idea what the strength was or where it had come from so Kris was currently ignoring it in the hopes that it might go away. One day. Hopefully. "I'll be there," Kris confirmed with a nod.
She breathed out and then gestured towards her door. "I'd better get inside."
"Take care of yourself Kris, sleep well." GW waited until she'd gone indoors, then turned around and ambled back toward the bar to get his bike. Unless he needed to haul something it was usually easier to get around Key West on two wheels and muscle power than four and gas power. The Cajun started whistling a cheery tune from his childhood in Louisiana and contemplated how many pounds of shrimp he'd have to order for Thanksgiving.
'Travelin' Band' and 'Centerfield' are both property of John Fogerty. Lyrics used with much love but no permission.