Butterfly Weeds (33 page)
“How are ya doin’,
New Milford
?” Will shouted from the stage.
A wide smile lit up his face as he spoke to the crowd. I could tell that he was happy to be where he was. Even from a distance,
I remembered that smile – it was as if everything in the world were right.
The throng cheered and screamed. Then, Will and his band started right in on their first song, and then their second, until they were cruising right along, hitting each song like they had done it a million times before. Every once in a while, though, Will would take a break, mostly to remind everyone why they were there, and then, another song would follow.
When I closed my eyes, I could almost picture myself on Will’s back porch at the end of a warm, July day, listening to his voice, believing that there was nothing in the world more soothing. In fact, his voice was just as beautiful to me now as it had been all those years ago. Although, something did seem a little different tonight with the way he sang. Tonight, he commanded so much attention. So many people seemed to love him and his band and their music. Though, I knew that most people still looked at Will like they always had. He was the same old Will to them – the same Will who still played pick-up basketball games in the high school’s gymnasium, fished on the weekends and put fires out during the week. I knew this much, mostly from Rachel, of course. However, to the few that didn’t know him that well – and I would suspect that was a lot of the people now standing around me – he was every bit as famous as the last celebrity. I could see in the faces nearest to me, at least, that that is exactly how they saw him. Those next to me donned tee shirts proudly displaying Will’s profile, and they gushed enthusiastically over his every word. And tonight, I had to admit, there was a tiny part of me that kind of felt like them. After all, he really was a celebrity in his own right, and he very much looked the part tonight. And I was proud of him and happy that he had gotten the chance to follow his apparent dreams thus far. Most of all, however, I was happy that the world had go
tten a chance to hear him sing.
After the band wrapped up its last song, the crowd broke out into a loud round of applause. Will and his band members took a bow and walked off the left side of the stage, disappearing behind a long, black curtain. The multitude grew ever noisier, yet stood still then, waiting anxiously for the band’s encore. And not to disappoint, moments later, Will reemerged again from the left side of the stage. This time, however, he wasn’t holding his six-string, and not all of his band members followed him. Only the pianist trailed him, finally taking a seat on the bench behind the piano in the back corner of the stage. Will, on the other hand, walked to the front of the platform with only a microphone in hand and a spotlight guiding his path. He stopped at a stool centered on the stage and took a seat, anchoring one leg on the ground, the othe
r on one of the stool’s rungs.
It only took a matter of seconds before the massive crowd’s buzz faded and then went silent. And the
n, he had everyone’s attention.
“I’ve saved this one for last,” Will finally spoke in a soft, deep voice. “I wrote it years ago, but this is going to be the firs
t time anyone’s ever heard it.”
His words came out raspy and almost shy.
Then, he paused and removed his cowboy hat, while a melody from the piano began to play softly in the background.
It was his last song of the night, and his first words came spoken – not sung.
“
I couldn’t stop at one. This one’s for you too, Julia,” he said.
I stifled a gasp by covering my mouth with the inside of my hand. I swore my heart stopped for an instant – or at least, it came the closest it had ever come to stopping completely.
What had he said?
My mind raced, and I panicked.
I could hear every breath I took, as if I were in some sort of strange space vacuum on some strange planet in another world. In reality, I had heard what he had said, but what was really real anymore? I couldn’t tell. The line was constantly blurring these days.
I couldn’t think of anything else but his last words. Nothing else mattered
and nothing else came to mind.
I listened to the girls in the crowd scream and then grow quiet again before Will bowed his head in the center of the stage and a beaming ray of light left him and spotlighted the piano player, w
ho continued his soothing solo.
A tear frenziedly slipped past my eyelid and slid down my polished cheek, at the same time, my legs grew strangely weak. I was melting – uncontrollably malfunctioning. I wanted to sit down, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the singer, so I simply remained motionless – frozen where I stood – a tall weed in the all-too-crowded field. My stare never left him as my eyes strained to see his figure in the dark now. I could just barely see that his gaze now focused on a spot in the far distance. And as the piano solo drew to a close, the ivory light returned to Will, and Will began a soft melody:
“The sun’s a settin’ on Cedar Lake
While that autumn fog settles in
The fish aren’t bitin’
Crickets sing
Just me and an old friend
Remembering the good ol’ days
When we were just kids
Startin’ trouble, chasin’ old flames
The what-ifs, the what-might-have-beens
Until slowly the conversation dies
And I know that he knows
Cause the next thing he says
Is, Buddy, don’t tell me lies,
How does the story really go?
Does she ever cross your mind?
Does she ever steal your nights?
Is she still a part of you?
Do you ever wish she were still by your side?
And what would you do?
If she walked up here tomorrow
And told you that she loved you?
Would you drop it all and run to her?
Would you tell her you love her too?
Or would you simply send her home?
And tell her you’ve moved on?
Tell me, Buddy, what would you do?
Then I looked at him with two sad eyes
And I said,
More than every once in awhile,
More than most dreams,
More than just my heart,
More than anything,
More than you know,
And more than I can say,
I’ve loved her more
Every passing day
And every time I close my eyes,
She’s here with me
Her soft, green eyes,
Her hand in mine
It’s her I see
And I tell him,
I wish your dreams kept you close
Or that one led you back to me
And that I’d trade it all
For the day he didn’t have to ask me,
Tell me, Buddy, what would you do?
Now, I’m tellin’ you,
Julia, My Butterfly,
More than every once in awhile,
More than most dreams,
More than just my heart,
More than anything,
More than you know,
And more than I can say,
I’ve loved you more
Every passing day
Julia, I’ve loved you more
Every passing day.”
I let a breath of unsteady air pass cautiously through my lips as the ballad ended, the piano ceased its playing and the stage lights dimmed. I felt as if I had held the air prisoner in my chest for the duration of the song. I could hear the crowd erupt as Will exited the stage for the last time that night. I watched his figure walk slowly, head down to the edge of the dark curtains and eventually disappear. And though I heard the crowd’s cheers, they weren’t loud enough to block out the racing thoughts in my head or the thudding of
my pounding heart in my chest.
