AT 29 (101 page)

Read AT 29 Online

Authors: D. P. Macbeth

Miles realized he'd seen something very different from his British songstress. He waited for the expected applause and watched carefully to make sure his camera crew got everything. The crowd's response went long and loud.

Nigel stepped out next. His was the expected biggest reception. He saluted his countrymen, showing total emersion in the task at hand. Like Kate, he chose his signature song,
Paradise
. Kate and Jimmy remained on their stools as he took the same approach.
Yarra
reached triple platinum long before the U.S. tour had finished. The album remained in the top twenty and
Paradise
had yet to drop out of the top forty. As his backup band prepared to join in, the big man with the grand voice captivated everyone from the stage to the audience and out into the surrounding thoroughfares. He climbed the high notes with ease then dropped back just as his band took over, jamming excitedly in a succession of bars that highlighted the expert play of each member. At this point, the shimmies and shakes throughout the audience could not be stilled and rhythmic clapping urged the band to a faster tempo. Cindy came to her husband's side and took his hand as they turned to look at the audience, engaged as if it was an integral part of the music. For the first time since Ellis proposed Blossom Presents, McCabe realized why people came to live concerts. It wasn't simply to look and listen. It wasn't only to be treated to the delicious sounds of their favorite songs. Now, he understood it was to be invited inside the music, to be part of it, to join in its making.

Jimmy was temporarily pardoned from his heartache as he waited for Whitehurst to conclude. He had already decided what song to sing, but in the wake of Kate and Nigel he suddenly felt unworthy. He was the most experienced of the three, the recipient of four Grammy awards with a double platinum album and triple platinum single. Yet he knew he could not match the stunning performances that preceded him. Nigel concluded to thunderous applause and pleas for more. Ellis shouted that he should continue recognizing, as did McCabe, something unusual was taking place, but Whitehurst took no notice as he backed away and returned to his stool.

Jimmy waited for the crowd noise to drift down to random shouts and whistles. He could see the end at last. No more traveling from place to place. No more tedious hours, waiting for the next show to begin. No more airplanes, buses and limousines. No more frantic sprints to flee pursuing paparazzi and aggressive fans. No more empty hotel rooms and out of the way houses from city to city. No more obligatory interviews, staged
parties and radio shows. No more demands from McCabe. No more accusing looks from Ellis. No more obligations. He stirred from his stool ready to end it all with one last song.

Kate beat him to the microphone, pressing his arm as she rose to make him stay seated. He was at a loss as she slipped the mike from its stand and beckoned, not him, but Nigel to join her at center stage. When Whitehurst came to her side she slipped her arm in his, drawing him close so their bodies hid Jimmy from view. McCabe gave Cindy a questioning look, which she returned with a shake of her head. Jimmy glanced at Sonny, who remained standing, staring straight ahead, refusing to make eye contact.

“Thank-you, Melbourne!” Kate began. “Thank-you for receiving us with your enthusiasm and love. Tonight is both beautiful and bittersweet for those of us who have spent the last nine months on the Blossom Presents Tour. Bittersweet, because it must end. These wonderful months making music for so many across America, in Sydney and tonight with you, may never be matched again anywhere or anytime.” A smattering of applause echoed across the grassy slope.

“Beautiful because we have the privilege to close our tour in the one and only country, perhaps the one and only city where our dreams began. I am a Brit, of course, united in heritage and spirit with most of you. “Nigel,” she nudged the big singer, “is a native son, one with all of you, an Australian in all those ways that make you and your nation so great.” The applause grew louder with whistles and cries of “Yes!”

“But there are three of us sharing this stage, the two who stand before you drawing strength from your enthusiasm and the one who waits behind, more deserving of our appreciation than anyone can know. In my weakest moment he saved me from myself. On a cold December night, one year ago in New York City, when nerves nearly prevented me from taking the stage, he took me by the hand and showed me the way. Without him, I would never have performed that evening. I would never have won a Grammy. Without the belief he showed in me, I might never have regained the confidence that brought me here tonight.

“It started here in Australia where Jim emerged from his cocoon. From Perth to Melbourne and the cities in between, he gradually shed the trappings of Jimmy Button and became Jim Buckman. He drew strength from Australia and you fans who embraced his music. Along the way, he wrote and produced brilliant songs. Along the way, he touched the lives of others as the spirit of Australia touched him. One of those who, like me, owes his presence on this stage to Jim is the world's current big star, your own Whitehurst.” She smiled as she handed the microphone to Nigel.

“That's right, mates.” His voice boomed through the giant speakers. “A year ago I was surfing along the Great Ocean Road, singing for my supper in a little pub. I thought my life was just fine. Jim came to hear me sing. He carried a recording contract in his hand. I rejected that contract and I rejected him as just another pushy American looking to make money. But he persisted. He heard something in me that I refused to accept. A gift, he called it. Something I ought to share with others. Still, I put him off. No stranger was going to tell me what I should do. Sound familiar, my fellow Aussies?” He laughed. “Isn't that who we are? A proud people who won't be led around by the nose?” He looked over his shoulder at Jimmy, winking. Then he turned back to the crowd.

“He said he wanted to work with me. Work with me, I thought - this singer who had just finished taking my country by storm. Sure, I knew who he was. I heard him on the radio and saw him on the telly. Here was this star saying he wanted to work with me.
Thought I'd waver like some wide-eyed kid. But then he gave me a gift, not tied to the contract and with no strings attached. No one ever did that for me before. You heard one of those gifts a few minutes ago, his song,
Paradise
. Maybe you think I wrote it. No mates, he wrote it for me along with three others, the best songs on
Yarra
. Together, we wrote eight more in a hotel out in Port Fairy, the ones that completed my debut album. Jim Buckman and his music changed my life.

“So he comes last, as it should be. He closes the Blossom Presents tour here in my hometown before all of you. Kate is so very right. He is more deserving of your appreciation, of our appreciation. In his special way he made it possible for all of us to be here.”

With that Nigel and Kate stood aside, turned toward Jimmy and beckoned him to come forward. The twenty thousand who listened to the tribute poured forth with one of their own, raising their hands high and clapping. Ellis smiled and shook his head, no longer in control of the concert.

Jimmy was non-plussed. Until then, his only wish was to get away. He longed for the night to be over so he could move on. Kate, Nigel, the bands and the music, all were already put away in his mind. Performing had become a chore. He had become numb to the crowds.

Sonny came over and nudged his friend. He smiled in that way that needed no words to convey its meaning. Melinda pressed a key, summoning one loud note, the first one from
Peg
. Of course, it had to be that song; the one Australia embraced long before the rest of the world heard it on the night of the Grammy telecast. It was a tired melody now, so often played that it no longer made the heart leap. It defined him, though.
Peg
and Jim Buckman were synonymous. Which came first? Neither. They belonged together. It was what the fans expected. The applause came louder as he rose and took the mike. He kissed Kate on the cheek then turned, lifted the microphone to his lips and spoke.

“This is for you, Melbourne!”

He cast his weary longings aside and launched into his signature song with all the fervor of its debut in Perth more than a year earlier. The band came in, each instrument at its appointed time, but with equal passion. As Jimmy and Nigel had done for Kate when her song opened the encores, they joined in, lending the quality of their superior voices to each chorus as Jimmy made his way through the verses.
Peg
was reborn. Sonny took over for brief interludes, displaying his skills on lead. Ted drove his harmonica to the highest notes. Melinda, Eugene and Jimmy's stand-in on rhythm guitar, carried their roles to perfection. As the song continued, a different
Peg
resonated from the stage. The addition of Kate and Nigel's vocals gave the song even more depth, more emotion than the original. Miles heard it and he knew he had more sales on the horizon.

Ellis heard it as well, but he wasn't thinking of sales as he signaled a stagehand to raise the curtain, revealing the orchestra. He heard the Jimmy he'd followed into the music business, the one he wanted to play with, then the one he wanted to help reach the top. “This is it, Jimmy boy. You made it.” He looked at Benson, nestled behind his drums, no longer wearing his high hat and ostentatious suit. He followed Jimmy, too. The brash drummer was subdued during this performance as he had been in Sydney. Such a waste, Ellis concluded. He owed his presence to the man at the microphone. The man with the damaged hand, who couldn't hold his guitar for what might be his last live
performance. Yes, Ellis thought, the desire might be gone and it would be Benson who stole it.

Brass, strings, percussion and spectacular vocals filled the night with the beautiful melody. For a few minutes Jimmy was happy, lost in his music, the one thing that had always made him complete. As he drew out the final verse he recognized its finality. It overwhelmed him as his thoughts returned to Les and the longing for her flooded back into his heart. Now that she had entered his life little else mattered. The music could only fill part of his void. Only she could fill the rest.

McCabe secured a small club off Ashmore Avenue for the final break-up party. It was a quiet affair, nostalgic, but not without an exchange of humorous anecdotes and lusty farewells. He made the rounds, expressing his appreciation and hinting at future plans although avoiding particulars. When he came up to a suspicious Benson and Chase, he acted with equanimity, like he didn't know all that took place in Miami. It didn't take long for them to relax and open up. After a few minutes of casual chat, they revealed what Felix wanted to know.

“Through Singapore,” Benson offered. “We leave at the end of the week. Figure a couple of days seeing the sights. Maybe Bangkok or Tokyo for a few more days and then home.”

Sonny orchestrated the highlight of the evening when the normally taciturn guitarist took the center of the room. Holding hands with a beaming Marsha, he announced their engagement. The wedding would take place on Valentines Day in Manhattan. Everyone was invited. Jimmy would be his best man.

Nigel was the first to make his getaway. Jimmy watched him leave and then made the rounds to say his own good-byes. He deferred all questions about the future to Miles and Ellis, not wanting to give voice to his increasing reluctance to ever tour again. He approached Cindy last. She squeezed his uninjured hand and kissed him on the cheek.

“I hope you find her,” she said.

Sixty-Six

The dark time began with Miami. I only write about Marvel Island because one must be brutally honest when setting forth one's life story. I have my own problems, which persist, even now, thirty years later. Jimmy and Nigel? They descended into the abyss, too
.

- Alice Limoges

The next day he visited Sister Marie. There was no news. He returned to his hotel, heart broken. Maybe she went back to New Hampshire. That was nixed when he called her parents in Amherst. Her father told him she was in Australia, plainly unaware that she was missing. Jimmy couldn't be the one to raise his fears.
“She enjoyed traveling along the Great Ocean Road.”
He remembered Sister Marie's words. He picked up the phone and ordered a rental car.

“Mr. Buckman, a package has arrived for you. Shall I have it brought to your room?” The engagement ring, he'd almost forgotten. He packed, took the elevator to the lobby, picked up the tiny package and checked out. It was long shot, trying to find her somewhere along that beautiful stretch of road. Still, he had to make the effort because once he boarded a plane for home he knew he would be out of ideas, out of hope unless she came back to Saint Malachy's or to him.

He traveled along Bass Strait, through the deep ravines, along the hilltops overlooking the sea and among the dozen or so towns and villages that cropped up. All lacked the charm of his first visit. He stopped in Anglesea, then Airey's Inlet and its adjoining hamlet of Fairhaven. He passed by the dirt entrance leading to Whitehurst's Surf Shop, knowing Nigel would be there, but uninterested in seeing the big Australian so soon after the tour ended.

When Willies came into view he slowed the Holden and pulled into the parking lot, remembering the night Les and Sister Marie came to help him convince Nigel to sign with Blossom. It was early afternoon, hot like Victoria can get when summer is near. The bar was empty. He thought about waiting until Horace arrived to open up. She wouldn't come. In his heart he was certain. So he pressed on down B-100.

Over the next three days, he became intimate with the Great Ocean Road. He stopped in every town, making the useless effort to walk the sidewalks and peer into shops and restaurants, hoping to spot her. Each night, he found a place to rest in a small motel or guesthouse. Some of the places seemed familiar, but only in that way that suggests a fleeting wish to know it better, but he was on a different quest, to find Les.

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