Dance on Your Knees Pt. 02

"Trap, how you doing?" Genevieve smiled.

"Aw you know how it is," the man said in a low growl.

"Trap, this is Tony. Tony, this is the best body guard in the business."

"How you doing?" Trap asked, shaking Tony's hand in a massive paw.

"And this is Stephen Snow; he's been with me since I was playing in Maximus down on Roberts' Drive," Genevieve introduced a second black man when he entered the limousine.

"How's it going?" Tony said but Stephen ignored him.

"So, how is the show going?" Genevieve asked.

Stephen scowled. He shook his head and pulled out his cell phone.

"Lithia? Went on an hour late. Played twenty minutes then Stu walked off, leaving Penny and Teller to hold the line. Genny, They? They going drag you down with them."

"Thought Stu was clean?" Genevieve asked.

"And Teller just walked off," Stephen snarled, staring at his cell phone.

A few moments later, the limousine screamed to a stop inside of a large warehouse. They exited the limousine to thunderous clanging and banging. After his ears adjusted, Tony realized it was actually music. Loud, bass-driven, horribly distorted music.

"Another bodyguard stepped up and hustled Tony into a small room. A large television showed a dark stage. Tony could just make up some shapes moving, arranging a drum set, some amplifiers, a rack of keyboards.

"Ladies and gentlemen and you too Tony, Bergeron Idaho? Put them hands together for... Genevieve Bar-claaaay!" a voice suddenly boomed out and Tony saw the previously dark stage engulfed in a blinding flash of light.

The opening riff for 'Mississippi Ain't Home No More' boomed out and Tony saw Genevieve on the stage, her new PAM guitar strapped on. She and her band blazed through the hard-pounding song. Genevieve's guitar playing was tight, her vocals were sweet, lilting as she sang about losing her innocence, losing her belief in childhood dreams.

"And when we crossed the state line," she sang out as the music suddenly stopped. "Mississippi was in the rear view mirror."

"How you doing Bergeron?" Genevieve yelled and the audience responded with a raucous yell of their own.

"Mr. Lewis? A drink? Anything to eat?" a heavy-set black woman asked.

"Whiskey and Seven-Up?" Tony asked, watching as Genevieve launched into 'Better Watch Your Step,' the lead single from her new album, 'Stinging Strings.'

Tony was pleasantly buzzed when Genevieve and her band came off-stage. Genevieve was bathed in sweat, as was everyone else. There was a moment to catch their breaths, take a few drinks of water, then the interviews with the local media. Tony found himself being pulled to stand next to a smiling Genevieve.

"Ms. Barclay, who is this?" one radio personality asked.

"This my boy toy, Tony," Genevieve smiled happily.

"Is it serious?" the same person asked.

"Yeah," Genevieve admitted, kissing Tony.

Tony was blinded by the flashing cameras. He thought of his father, his drunken, bloated, angry father sitting at home, watching television and seeing his son, kissing a bald-headed black woman.

"Whoa, Sugar!" Genevieve giggled as Tony kissed her passionately.

"Hey Udelle; Kent Clark's latest release went gold in three days; got anything say to your former band?" another person called out.

"Y'all can just kiss my beautiful black ass," Udelle growled angrily. "All I got to say."

The concert in Dolenz, Utah was nearly a repeat of the Bergeron, Idaho show. Lithia Springs Cathedral was seventy four minutes late. Seven minutes into their set, Stu took offense to a perceived slight from an audience member and stormed off. Penny was clearly uncomfortable with Teller's very familiar touching and groping of her body and kept trying to put distance between herself and him.

"Stephen, you need talk to Gabe; shit ain't happening, hear?" Genevieve snapped as once again, her opening act left the audience restless, irritable. "Ladies and gentlemen and you too Tony, Dolenz, put them hands together..." Tony heard and smiled at the greeting.

A stopover in Las Vegas gave the band a few days to blow off some steam. During a very drunk moment, Tony and Genevieve found themselves in front of Elvis, exchanging vows. When news of their marriage leaked out to the media, Stephen Snow was beyond livid, screaming obscenities at Tony. He screamed at Tony; he knew if he screamed at Genevieve he would be out of a job.

"No good mother fucking ignorant white ass piece of shit?" Stephen screamed.

"That's enough," Tony finally said. "Jesus. I want this shit I'll call up my racist dad, hear?"

"Mother fucker, don't. Don't you dare fucking talk back to me! I fucking reduce your cracker ass, you feel me?" Stephen screamed, slamming Tony against the hotel room's Closet door.

"Mister Snow, that's enough," Rene, Genevieve's second bodyguard snapped.

"What? You, you talking to me?" Stephen screamed, releasing Tony and turning on the bodyguard.

"Mister Snow, you don't want to do that," Rene said calmly when Stephen put his hand inside of his jacket.

"Mr. Lewis, your lovely bride waiting for you," Rene said, gently pushing Tony toward the hotel suite's bedroom.

Entering the large bedroom, Tony saw several candles flickering, bathing the room in a soft, erotic glow. On the large king sized bed was his new bride, dressed in a virginal white baby doll nightie. Her sleek, muscled legs were encased in white stockings. Her bald pussy was covered, barely, by a skimpy white thong.

"Hey, Husband," Genevieve husked, kicking up her left leg in invitation.

Slowly kissing every square inch of exposed flesh, Tony took the time to peel away the lacy top. As he removed that garment, he again kissed every exposed inch of her beautiful dark body. When he finally peeled off her sticky panties, Genevieve was panting in need.

In the morning, there were interviews. Genevieve had experience dealing with differing personalities and handled the interviews with style and grace. Tony was charming as he admitted he was nervous being in the spotlight like this.

"I mean, all I did was marry a beautiful woman," Tony said.

"Looking good, looking good," Rene praised as they hustled out of the television studio. "All I did was marry a beautiful woman, huh? My man, you had every woman in there wanting them a Tony Lewis."

A helicopter took them from the Stankent County Airport to the Manor Hills Open-Air Auditorium. The stage was built into the northern side of the 'C' shaped hills that surrounded the town of Manor Hills, Nevada. The dressing rooms were underneath the stage itself. While the roadies set up the stage, the band relaxed. Just after nine o'clock, Stephen Snow approached the manager of Lithia Springs Cathedral and asked when they planned to take the stage. When the smirking man shrugged, Stephen reminded him that the Manor Hill Auditorium shut down at eleven pm.

Genevieve and her band made the decision to go onstage without their opening act. They played a blistering eighty minute set and thundered off the stage.

Lithia Springs Cathedral came out at ten fifty three and were surprised when they were greeted with boos. Despite the hostile greeting, they performed their very first single from their debut album. Buoyed by the smattering of applause they then performed their latest release from their third album.

"You know, people ask us all the time, where does the name Lithia Springs Cathedral come from?" Penny said to the audience. "And it comes from a small little church in Lithia Springs, Georgia. That's where Stu, Teller, and I went when we was kids. And when we was kids? That itty bitty church? Looked huge to us. It was like a cathedral. And this was the first song we ever sang to..."

Penny's repartee was cut short by the sound system going silent and the stage and the auditorium itself being flooded with security lights. Looking out into the auditorium, Lithia Springs Cathedral saw that the majority of the audience had already left.

"You suck, Lithia," a kid yelled out as he stepped down the stairs that had been cut into the natural rock hill.

"What the fuck? What the actual fuck just happened?" Stu demanded of their manager as he ran underneath the stage.

"Like I told your boy; they shut this place down at eleven. On the dot," Stephen smirked at the bewildered manager.

"What?" the man asked.

"See that town? This is a bowl. Everyone in Manor Hills can hear every note, every word," Stephen said. And some they mother fuckers? They got jobs in the morning. So they shut this mother fucker down. Eleven o'clock. No questions asked. It was in the contract you signed; don't tell me y'all didn't read it."

Westblanc, Nebraska was a college town. Lithia Springs Cathedral played their entire set. Genevieve and her band really played their hearts out. During the interview after the concert, Tony was asked what he thought of his father's response to Tony and Genevieve's marriage.

"I haven't talked with him," Tony said truthfully. "Whatever ignorant, racist thing he said? Does not matter. It does not apply to me, it does not apply to my wife."

The next question was about the PAM ceramic slides Genevieve was endorsing. Genevieve admitted, she'd grown up playing slide with an old bottleneck that had been broken off of a fifth of Iron Barrel Brown Sugar Whiskey bottle, but she was slowly becoming accustomed to the fit and tone the ceramic slide provided.

"And the thinline? That neck is ssmmooooth!" Genevieve enthused. "Slide? Single note? Trills? It can handle it. It's a player's guitar."

Broken Field, Kansas was another college town. The crowd was boisterous and lively. Tony had always believed that the entire state of Kansas did not allow drinking, but there were beer trucks set up and the crowd was hot, drunk and sweaty, and happy.

During her set, Genevieve played 'Stinging Strings' utilizing the PAM ceramic slide. Tony shrugged his shoulders; he couldn't tell the difference between the recorded version on the CD, and the live version. He supposed it was in how the slide felt to the user.

A few songs later, Genevieve again grabbed the slide from the small table next to her amplifier and played 'Bad Mood Dude.' Again, Tony shrugged; it sounded note for note the same as the cd version. But he heard a roadie comment that Genevieve did not look happy with the slide.

"Okay, okay, look at a bottle neck," the man explained to Tony. "See? It's curved. To make contact? You have to kind of tilt, kind of angle your finger. "The PAM? It's straight. You just lay it on the string."

"But it sounds perfect," Tony offered.

"Uh, because she's that fucking good," Stephen snapped.

Falwell City, Oklahoma was a tiny blip on the map. Lithia Springs Cathedral treated Falwell City like it was a tiny little blip on the map. They gave a lackluster performance and Stu reacted to the crowd's less than enthusiastic response to the group's listless performance. After telling Falwell City what they could do, he left the stage.

Genevieve and her band played Falwell City as if they were playing Madison Square Gardens. They played long and hard and were covered in sweat as they left the stage.

Before the Myndee, Arkansas concert, Genevieve and Tony took a day to visit Hot Springs, Arkansas. They made a romantic day of it, enjoying a couple's day in the steaming waters, then receiving a couples' massage. Then, in the hotel room, they made slow, leisurely love.

"God, didn't never think I was going ever get over Roberto," Genevieve dreamily said, laying against her sweat soaked pillows. "But you..."

"Who?"" Tony asked, but Genevieve was already asleep.

In Myndee, Genevieve did the Lunch Box with Honey Bee on 92.9, KITN, the Kitten that roars radio station. Tony sat outside of the booth with Bobby, the sound engineer. He liked the music the station played, but found the radio personality to be saccharine sweet.

"Seriously, dude? You? You're married to her?" Bobby asked while Honey Bee gave the recipe for homemade pasta for that perfect lasagna.

"Yes," Tony said, regarding the young man warily.

"Dude, you? You are my hero," Bobby said. "Her 'Bad Mood Dude' video? The one where you can just about see her boobs in that mesh top? Damn dude, just, just damn!"

"And as bad ass as she is? And don't get me wrong, she is one bad ass," Tony said. "When it's just her and me? That is one of the sweetest women you'll ever meet."

"Uh huh," Bobby said. "Wonder whatever happened to Roberto? Um, Roberto Martinez?"

"Who?" Tony asked.

"Guy in that video?" Bobby asked, then switched on the commercial feed.

The Harvester's College concert had to be cancelled; the auditorium had suffered significant damage due to arson. The College had scheduled a pro-life lecture; the three panelists had invited students of the local Pro-Choice chapter to attend and debate their position. Instead, some activists had set fire to the building, then attempted to block all exits, attempted to trap the pro-life crowd inside.

"What is your position? A student journalist asked Genevieve.

"I don't have a position," Genevieve said. "People more qualified than me are locking horns over this issue; I just stay out of their way."

"But as a woman, surely you can see that it's a matter of reproductive health," the student said.

"I'm a musician. I play guitar. I'm not a doctor, I'm a musician," Genevieve said. "You wouldn't ask a doctor how to tune a guitar to G tuning; why are you asking me about abortion?"

"But as a woman..." the journalist pressed.

"As a woman, I play guitar. I use PAM guitars, Orange amps and GHS strings," Genevieve stated firmly. "PAM stands for 'Passionate about Music' and their guitars certainly reflect that passion."

"But..." the journalist persisted.

"Miss? Seriously, is there any other questions you might have?" Genevieve interrupted. "Yes, the tour has been grueling, but my band is tight; we knew what we were signing up for. The crowds? The crowds have been incredible. We're looking forward to heading to Europe after the Commonstead, New Jersey concert; we've never played Europe before."

"But, but you shave your head. That, that's a political statement," the woman persisted.

Genevieve looked at Stephen. Stephen shrugged his shoulders. Genevieve looked at the expectant journalist.

"Ma'am, you were given a bio when we agreed to this interview. You didn't read it?" Genevieve asked.

"Has her picture on the front?" Stephen supplied.

"That? Yeah, I looked at it; you don't find that photograph demeaning?" the woman snapped.

"If I found it demeaning, I wouldn't have posed for it," Genevieve said, getting to her feet. "I shave my head; my momma lost all her hair when she underwent treatment for her ovarian cancer. I shaved my head to show her that a woman could still be beautiful, sexy, even without hair."

"Miss? In the future..." Stephen said.

"Uh? It's 'Ms,'" the student snapped angrily.

"Uh yeah, in the future? Take a moment to learn your subject BEFORE the interview," Stephen said, following Genevieve out of the room.

Ms. Emily Baker's article was a scathing one, painting Genevieve Barclay in as critical a light as possible. The students' Pro-Choice chapter of the Missouri River State University organized a protest and the members of the band and their crew were pelted with used condoms, used tampons and a few dirty diapers. Tony earned a grudging nod of respect from Stephen Snow when he put himself between Genevieve and the shrill mob.

"God damn, they some nasty ass mother fuckers," Tony said when they finally entered the auditorium's rear entrance.

"Just because I wouldn't tell that little bitch I support abortions?" Genevieve spat. "I ever see that little cunt? Both us going be bald I'm done with her fat ass."

Stephen arranged with the Missouri State Police to have additional security at the venue. The Missouri River State University Campus security took offense to this move, but Stephen showed the head of Campus Security and the Dean of the University his cell phone video of what had occurred just travelling from bus to rear door.

"You going stand there and tell me you got this?" Stephen screamed at the two sneering posturing men. "Hate like fuck see what would happen if you DIDN'T have them under control."

The concert was marred by protesting students rushing the stage and being very forcibly pushed back. Genevieve's pleas for calm and order were ignored. There were thirty four arrests made, sixteen students and three police officers were hospitalized for various injuries. The dean and the head of Campus Security both blamed the police for the incident. And the dean declared that Genevieve Barclay would not play their university ever again.

"No shit I ain't never playing this shithole ever again," Genevieve snarled.

The Norwill University students were thrilled to have Genevieve Barclay performing in their brand new auditorium. The students were loud, boisterous, and very energetic. In a rare move, Genevieve pulled two girls onto the stage to dance while she played 'First Time for everything.' She smiled; she could tell the two students would be talking about this night for a long time after the lights went out.

"Need to do that again," Genevieve said to Stephen as they toweled off after the show.

"Yeah, the girls going buy anything you slap your name on," Stephen agreed, then screeched in disgust when Udelle playfully snapped his own sweat soaked towel at Stephen's immaculate suit.

"Mr. Barclay? Mr. Barclay, have you heard the latest statement from your father?" a radio DJ asked Tony.

"First of all, his name is Mr. Lewis," Genevieve snapped at the DJ. "Tony Lewis."

"Sweetheart? Seeing the ignorant stuff the other Mr. Lewis keeps saying? I'm okay with being called Mr. Barclay," Tony smiled at her.

Tony laughed when Genevieve gave him a steamy kiss. By now, he'd learned to close his eyes; the flash of cameras could be quite blinding.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lewis," the chastened DJ said.

"It's fine. But, no, I've not seen or heard anything. But as I've said before, none of that applies to me. Yeah, I'm white. And yeah, I have noticed my wife is black. And when it's just her and me? We don't pay any attention to any of that; we're too busy paying attention to one another," Tony shrugged.

"That what we call it? 'Paying attention?'" Genevieve asked, smirking.

"Yeah. Ready to go pay attention?" Tony asked and Genevieve laughed.

"Yeah, let's go pay attention," Genevieve agreed, giving him another steaming kiss.

In Aitchel, Ohio, the romance came to an abrupt end. Walking into the auditorium's backstage area, Tony looked over when Stephen let out a loud curse. Tony immediately moved to stand between Genevieve and whatever threat was approaching.

"Aw now, what that ignorant wet back mother fucker doing here?" Stephen said.

Looking around, Tony saw an extremely well-muscled Latino approaching them. The man's immense biceps and forearms were covered in tattoos; Tony recognized a satanic pentagram on the back of the man's left hand. Tony hoped Rene had his nine millimeter in hand, ready to go; this long haired man exuded anger, exuded trouble.

"Roberto..." Genevieve sighed.

"Tony looked from the Latino's dark, dangerous eyes to his wife. Her own eyes had taken on a dreamy cast.

"Genevieve, my love," Roberto breathed, thick accent giving the words a seductive quality.

"Hey, Baby, how you been?" Genevieve breathed, abandoning Tony and wrapping herself around the muscled man.

"Hey, I..." Tony protested, and found himself being jerked backward by one of the bodyguards.

"Way it goes, way it goes," Rene said gently as he held Tony in place.

"What is this? What is this I hear? My Genevieve? She is married? To a little gringo?" Roberto demanded, staring into Genevieve's eyes.