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“I have heard so much about the lovely Percilla that I’m going to have to meet this cactus one day,” I declared, wiggling my toes as the cool air hit them.

“Tony gave her to me after my accident,” Bowie said, holding his fingers about two inches apart. “She was so tiny then. Now she’s got four little arms on her and a new one beginning to form. With as growly and grumpy as I was, snapping at everyone in the family when they visited, he figured she might be the only one who could put up with me.”

“Clearly I was wrong,” Tony said, looping an arm over his shoulder before messing up Bowie’s already windblown locks. “I still put up with you just fine.”

“Honestly, if I didn’t know any better it would be easy to mistake you for siblings,” Tibby declared.

“Give it time, we’ll corrupt you enough that they’ll think you’re our brother too,” Bowie declared.

“Now the truth comes out,” Pressley said as he headed into the water to join them. “It’s always the shy ones who turn out to be the biggest instigators.”

Tony snorted and glanced between Pressley and Bowie. “He hasn’t figured it out yet, has he?” Tony asked.

“Figured what out?” Pressley asked while I finished rolling up my jeans.

“Whoa! Shit! What the fuck! Cold. Damn! Damn! Fucking Cold!” Pressley yelped, jumping around like he couldn’t decide whether to get out or go deeper.

“Nah, he ain’t figured it out yet,” Bowie replied, leaning away from the spray of water Pressley kicked up as he continued to fuss.

“Are you gonna tell him or wait until he figures it out on his own?” Tony asked, the two of them snickering like hyenas as they watched Pressley.

“How can you guys stand to be out here!” Pressley complained.

“It took some getting used to,” Tibby replied. “Wait. Letting go of you took getting used to. We risked it all just to crash and burn. The living and dead walk different roads now. Another lesson we struggle to learn.”

Bowie and Tony’s answer was loud and identical. “Write it down!”

Watching Tibby walk out of the shin high water, whistling a tune I hadn’t heard before, was starting to give the impression that this might be a late night for these three. One of the true joys of my job was seeing the way bands gave birth to songs. The places they found inspiration rivaled only the assortment of menus, pizza boxes, food cartons, napkins and skin I’d witnessed musicians write lyrics on. With technology changing so much over the years, phones have become a go-to method of note keeping, right up until the damn thing was out of juice and they’re forced to scramble for a backup. These guys were smart keeping it old school around water. Replacing cell phones while on the road was never a good time for anyone.

“So, are you?” Tony asked.

“Am I what?” Bowie asked.

“Going to tell me whatever it was you guys were hinting around at before I decided to wade through an arctic pond?” Pressley grumbled.

“If it was in the arctic, wouldn’t it be frozen instead of just briskly refreshing?” Bowie asked, nudging his shoulder.

“I will remind you of those very words the first time you complain about having to take a shower with no hot water,” Pressley pointed out.

Bowie huffed and half turned away from him to face Tony. “Mean.”

“Stalling,” Tony said.

“Wow, double mean,” Bowie remarked

“He hates surprises, so you better get it over with,” Tony said, shrugging.

“At this point, I wanna know, too” Tibby declared, “so quit stalling already.”

Alright, toes in the water. This wasn’t nearly as bad as Pressley made it seem. Brisk was accurate. Refreshing too.

Second step had me regret life choices, like this one, so I bit my lip instead and put one foot in front of the other.

“Fine. I was shy about my scars,” Bowie replied. “Still kinda am. Each time we get onstage I think about them less and less. At some point, it will be too damn hot onstage, and my t-shirt will go flying. That will probably be the last time I worry about what people are gonna think when they see the scars for the first time.”

“At that point, you might wanna make sure he wears underwear if he’s gonna wear jean shorts so shredded there are giant holes from where the pockets fell off and I don’t just mean on the back, either,” Tony remarked. “If not, that’s all he’ll have on and eventually, things start falling off…or out if you know what I mean.”

I was glad I’d made it out to them in time to see Pressley’s expression, eyes wide, mouth half-hanging open as he eyed Bowie up and down.