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“Because, if he goes to the city, that’s too many people knowing he’s back on the scene, and Mr. M wants to stay on the down low to make sure he doesn’t bring attention to himself or the area.”
“So, who is this Mr. M?”
“Mr. M? You telling me you don’t know Mr. M?” the guy shakes his head in asking.
“I don’t, should I?”
“You from around these parts?” he asks.
“I live here, but I’m not exactly from here.”
“Ah,” he nods in understanding as if it’s something that he’s used to hearing.
We move three kegs to a hidden spot behind a bush, and then the stranger thanks me and then walks away without any more explanation.
I’m still left with no answers and a curiosity about whoever this Mr. M is.
The roar of the generator breaks the silence of the rustling trees and the lights hanging around the large space flicker on and come to life. It’s not too bright, but enough to lighten the space up a little.
Now, I see more people milling around the stage area, plugging things into amps and fiddling with a few other instruments. More onlookers are milling around the wooded area and looking around than I thought.
Madison smiles and walks over to where I’m standing in the middle of the field.
“Hey, making friends?” she asks.
“Just helping out where needed,” I reply. “Do you know who Mr. M is?”
She looks at me in confusion, “that sounds so ominous. I have no clue who you’re talking about, any clues?”
“The guys gotta be the front-runner of the band or something. The dude I was talking to made it sound like he was someone big.”
“Interesting,” she threads her arm through my arm on my hip and around my waist. “Thanks for coming out tonight, I think this is fun, a double date.” She says as Cooper and Nydia come up beside us.
“So, you guys doing good?” Cooper asks.
“Yeah, how did you guys hear about this?” I ask.
“Wyatt met one of the guys in the band the other day, and yeah. Speaking of which…” Cooper trails off as Wyatt and Miles approach.
We all share niceties as the band begins to sound check their instruments.
“This is a killer set up man, I wish they had this kind of shit when I was a damn kid, it would have been a whole lot of trouble and drunk ass nights,” Miles says looking over at the row of kegs behind the bushes.
“You grow up around here?” Wyatt asks.
“Sure did, I was homeschooled though, kinda hidden from the town due to shame from my mom’s indiscretions and shit.” Miles replies.
“Sounds sinister,” Cooper replies.
“She hooked up with Noah’s dad, made me and so I was hidden for the most part because it was known that my mom had no man,” Miles shrugs and says quickly.
“Such scandal for such a small town.” Cooper says with a laugh. “But hey, you got a brother out of it, Noah is a cool guy.”
Miles nods as a big gorilla of a guy steps up to the microphone.
“How we doing out there?” he asks.
A few whistles and cheers sound from just below the stage. There’s at least fifty to a hundred people hanging out now, all waiting for the band to go on.
