QUESTIONABLE SABBATH

Joseph Houk (March 24, 2010)

It had been a quiet trip so far to that point, so quiet that the sensation of the deceleration of our tour bus was enough to rouse me from a nap that I'd been taking on one of the seats in the living area. Lisa had already pulled off Interstate 91 onto the US 5 exit for Northampton Center. "We're there already?" I heard from the couch across from me as Dave Lewis called forward to his sister-in-law. "Yep," came the plaintive reply from the passenger seat next to Lisa in the front of the coach. Lisa's husband, Mike Lewis, turned to her and mentioned something quietly as he put away the road atlas. There was a long line of cars waiting for the stoplight, so he took advantage of the lull to unbuckle himself and climb up and into the back. "The hotel is up and on the left," he told us. "Where's Cindy?" "In back," I said. "She wanted to take a nap before we got in." Just then there was a creaking as she slid the door separating the sleeping quarters from the living room. Cindy Lewis yawned a bit and looked around at her two brothers. "I take it that we're here?" she said as the coach swung onto US 5. She expertly braced herself against the counter as Lisa took the turn; this was, after all, her tour bus. Her sister-in-law, though, had definitely taken to driving it. Lisa's explanation was that she had done some driving of her parents' old motor home back when she was a teenager. The answer was given as we pulled into the parking lot of the Quality Inn. "Gee, welcome to Northampton," I said to no one in particular. "Remind me again why we're here?" "Because a friend of mine from college asked us to do a show here," Lisa said for what seemed to be the millionth time at least, for her. "Diane and I were roommates at Trinity, and she's in charge of outreach ministries in Western Massachusetts for 3C." She put the brake on and shut off the diesel engine. "And, she said she'd meet us here." She unbuckled her seat belt and swung herself out of the driver's chair. "I'll go inside and see what our accommodation situation is." "Hopefully it won't be another night like last night," came another sleepy voice from the back. "My back is still hurting from our little ride over the mountains." My wife, Sarah, trudged out of the far back where she'd been resting on the bed. Lisa shrugged as she stepped out the side door. "Welcome to life on the road, dear," I said for what seemed the millionth time as well. "Playing rock star isn't all it's cracked up to be." We hugged briefly before we all stepped out for some fresh air. It wasn't as cool out as it was last night when we were in Scranton, but it wasn't freezing cold.

Lisa was talking to someone on the phone at the desk of the hotel as we wandered in. When she got off the phone she turned and smiled briefly, giving us the thumbs-up signal. She signed a few papers, gave us each a room card. "We're in four separate rooms," she said, "all suites and all in the back part of the hotel. And we're OK to park the bus over by the pool." We all got settled in and met back in the lobby in time to meet our contact, Diane Gaines. After she greeted Lisa with a warm hug, she stepped back to take a look at us. "So, you guys are White Sabbath?" she said as more of a statement than a question. Dave nodded and introduced us all. Sarah nervously pointed out that she wasn't a part of the band "I just married into all this," she said with a laugh. Diane offered to take us over to the auditorium where we were going to play on Friday night. Sarah decided she wanted to stay back and rest since her back was still bothering her, so there was a bit more room in her minivan. Not much, though, since we had to move a baby seat so Cindy and I could grab a seat in the back. Northampton isn't that bad of a town, all things considered; it looks pretty much like any small town in America, with stores and homes and such. You can tell it's a college town, though. It had lots of stores that definitely cater to students pizza places, thrift stores, coffee shops. "Did that place actually say Coffee of Doom?" Cindy said as we drove through town. Diane gave a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah, it's run by a Goth-hipster chick," she said. "My sister works there." "Hm. Interesting," Cindy replied. "I love trying new coffee shops. Might want to swing by there after we practice." There was a sudden awkward silence coming from Diane and Lisa. "Uh, did I say something wrong?" "Diane's family is estranged from her sister," Lisa explained. "Penny kinda became an atheist after she spent a few years at Amherst. There was a big fight over the holiday break after her freshman year; her parents basically told her, 'Here's your college tuition money, don't let the door hit you.'" "Now, I wouldn't say it was that bad," Diane responded. "They were willing to help her finish school, but she didn't want to stay at UMass. There was an argument, she left and didn't come back. I've talked to her a few times since then. Last I heard, she'd quit her job at a bookstore in Holyoke for that coffee shop." We pulled into the parking lot of Smith's auditorium. The place reminded me a lot of a typical Masonic lodge, or like Memorial Hall back in Racine: Old, neo-classic architecture, built to be used for large gatherings like graduations and convocations. Once inside, we got a feel for the place and how we were going

to lay things out. Mike asked if they had a sound engineer. "Sound engineer?" she said with a puzzled look. "Someone to man the sound board," he told her. "We usually have someone local do it to save on costs a bit." Diane blanched a bit. "I wasn't aware you needed one," she said. Oops. We all looked at each other, and I could tell the wheels were turning in everyone's heads. "I got it," Cindy said. "There's a guy out here, singersongwriter named Bianchi. He wrote one of the songs on my last album. Remember that one song, 'Never Forget to Never Forget'?" Mike and Dave both made faces and Cindy shot them a look. "That song was the one hit on the album," she explained. "And he apparently is a pretty accomplished musician in his own right. He might be able to point someone out." "Did you say Bianchi?" Diane said. "That's the name of Penny's boss at the coffee shop. Dora Bianchi." "Well, I guess we have a reason to stop in there, now," Cindy said. "I have to take Lisa over to Campus Events to get some of the paperwork squared away," Diane told us. "I can drop you guys off at the place and you can talk to her." "Sounds like a plan," Dave said. We got our gear stowed and headed downtown to the shop. The place didn't look all that busy; a large customer with a goatee and a few piercings was on his way out as we got to the door. "Interesting place," Mike said as we walked in. The place looked like your typical caf a handful of tables, a counter with an espresso machine, and a couple of bathrooms to the one side. The real attraction of the store, though, was the blackboard behind the counter, where the daily specials were listed. Or was that drawn? There was a huge drawing of some large Godzilla-like dinosaur breathing flames and some strangely-named drinks. I looked at the name for a second before Dave verbalized what I was thinking: "Death Metal Latte?" he said as we contemplated the menu. A raven-haired lady, wearing a Blood Pony t-shirt, stepped up to the counter from the coffee machine. "Hey there! What can I get for you?" Dave, Mike and I all stammered for a second, mostly because we weren't exactly sure what we wanted. Cindy, however, stepped up and ordered for all of us. "We'll have three large lattes, two with an extra shot of espresso, and one large coffee, black," she said assertively. "And would I be right to assume you're Dora Bianchi?" She looked up from the cash register with a somewhat blank stare.

"Yes?" she asked tentatively. She looked down at the register to somewhat recollect herself, and told her, "That'll be $13.25, by the way." "Great," she said as she handed her a twenty. "My friends and I are in a bit of a predicament, since this is our first time here in Northampton. You wouldn't happen to know anyone who'd be an experienced sound technician at all, would you?" Dora turned to another gal who had just emerged from their back room a gal with brownish hair and glasses that made her look all the world like Velma from Scooby Doo. "Got an order, Faye," Dora told her. The girl looked at the slip of paper she'd been given, blanched a second, and then started to work on the lattes. Dora, meanwhile, turned back to Cindy. "I'm sorry; I didn't catch who you were, again?" "Well," Cindy said with a pause. "Joe, you want to do the introductions?" "Sure," I chimed in. "This is Cindy Lewis, and these are her two brothers, Dave and Mike" both gave a little half-wave as I introduced them "and I'm Joseph Houk. Together, we're" I turned and looked at the rest of them, and we said it in unison: "White Sabbath." "Oooh, a band!" came the response from behind the espresso machine. "What kind of stuff do you guys play?" "Well, we're a Christian rock band," Dave explained. "Like Stryper or something?" Dora asked. "No, we don't dress up in spandex, big hair and war paint," Mike said. "We just rock out a bit. And we have a concert on Friday night over at the Smith Auditorium." "Yeah, that's where we thought you might be able to help us out," Cindy reiterated. "See, I've done some work with your brother, Sven?" Now it was Dora's turn to blanch. "Oh, God, please," she said with a distasteful tone. "He didn't try to put moves on you or anything, did he?" Cindy looked at her with a note of surprise. "Him? No," she replied quizzically. "I just recorded one of his songs for my last album. I never met him for more than a few minutes or anything." This made Dora pause for a moment to think. "Cindy Lewis you were that one gal who went out on tour with Shania Twain, right?' Cindy nodded at the recognition. "I remember Sven telling me about you." She smirked. "Only singer who didn't throw herself at him after they met." A snorting noise came from the coffee machine as Faye was pouring the large coffee, black for Mike. "Hush, Faye. So," she continued as Faye handed out the lattes, "you thought that I'd be able to get a hold of him or something?" "Actually, we were hoping you might know someone, if he wasn't around," Dave said as he took his latte from Faye. "Yeah," Mike said as he sipped his coffee. "Cindy said he wasn't that much of a techie type, so we figured maybe

he might have contacts of some sort who'd know how to run a sound board?" The bell rang as a skinny, mediumheight guy in a dark hoodie walked into the shop. "How to run a what, now?" said the guy as he went up to Dora. "How are you, babe?" he said to her with a smile. "These guys are looking for someone to run their sound board for a concert over at Smith on Friday night," Dora told her. She suddenly brightened. "Something you might be interested in, Marten?" "Huh duh buh whuh?" was his reply. We all looked at each other. "Don't mind him," came a comment from Faye. "He gets this way when he's flustered." "It's what I love about him," Dora added. "It wouldn't be that hard," Mike said. "We just have a couple of guitars, a bass, a keyboard and drums, along with an acoustic and mikes." "Guitars?" Marten finally said after a moment. "Yeah," Dave spoke. "Joe's Fender Strat and my Gibson Les Paul, along with Cindy's Ibanez bass." The middle one got a squeak from both Marten and Faye. "A Les Paul?" said Faye. "What year?" "It's an old '61 that I refurbished with newer Gibson pickups and such," he said as he turned to Faye. "Actually got Les to help me get the sound right on it once before he passed away." All three of them stopped in their tracks at this comment. "You met Les Paul?" came the reply from Marten his voice cracking as he said it. "Well, yeah," I said. "I mean, they're from Nashville and I'm from Waukesha. Dave met up with Les several times before he died. Once when he was on tour with Def Leppard." "Def Leppard?" Dora said incredulously. Dave nodded reluctantly. "Wasn't exactly the best time of my life back then, but yeah, I subbed for Steve Clark briefly during the Hysteria tour." Dave paused as he remembered some of those moments. "It didn't last all that long, but it was interesting." "So what happened, you have some sort of conversion thing like the guy from Korn did?" asked Marten. "Oh, no, no, we were a band before and after that time," Dave said quickly. "It was an opportunity, and though it opened some doors, it also came back to bite me." "Anyways," Cindy said to change the subject, "I'm pretty sure I recognize you from somewhere, Faye. Can't remember exactly where, though." Faye looked at her briefly, and then suddenly it clicked in her head. "SCAD Music Week!" she said in a note of recognition. "You were one of the singer/guitarists who

spoke at the symposium in my freshman year of college!" Cindy nodded as she remembered herself. "I was at Savannah because of another friend of mine who'd graduated from SCAD, and I remember you were asking all sorts of questions about the Fender Strat that I'd brought with." She smiled briefly. "I was surprised when you told me you were majoring in Sculptural Design." "I was surprised to find out you were a country music singer," she said. "I didn't know you sang one of Sven's songs, though." Cindy shot a look at Faye and Dora at her tone. "I take it she doesn't like your brother very much?" Cindy asked. "Oh, a bit too much at times," Dora replied which garnered a punch from Faye. "I won't ask, then," Cindy stated finally. She turned to Marten. "So, would you be able to help us out?" "We'll pay you," Mike said. Marten hemmed and hawed a bit. "I'll let you play my Les Paul, if you're interested," Dave said. "I'll do it!" Marten exclaimed. "See, that was easy," Cindy said. "I do have to admit, though," Marten said after a moment of thought, "I don't really know what kind of music you guys play. Are you more post-metal, or maybe post-grunge, or post-punk, or what? I mean, White Sabbath sounds like the name of either a metal band or some ironic doo-wop group." "White Sabbath?" came a voice from the other end of the counter. "Let me guess, my sister sent you in here to try to rescue me." A blonde haired gal with glasses and a bright green t-shirt came up to the register. "You must be Penelope," Mike said. "Lisa told me about you." I looked at Mike for a moment, because I didn't remember Lisa saying anything to him about Diane's sister. "You might remember her as Lisa Heinrye?" Penelope paused for a moment, then shrugged as if trying to put aside a memory. "Yeah, she was my sister's roommate in college," she said. "Only one I actually liked." She gave Mike a wary look. "How do you know her?" Mike held up his left hand, showing the wedding ring on his finger. Her eyebrows shot up. "We've been married for almost four years now," he told her. "Our daughter, Tamara, is spending the week with grandma back in Nashville." "She had a kid?" came the reply from Penelope. "Geez, I thought that would be the last" She suddenly became very quiet, and that's when I realized Mike was giving her a look. A look that basically said, Don't you even THINK about finishing that sentence.

"Wait, wait a second," came a sudden interjection from Faye. "Pen-Pen has a sister, and we don't know about it?" "There's probably a good reason, Faye," Dora said with her own version of the dirty look that was being thrown around the room like a dishrag. Dave turned to Marten. "Is it just me, or is the level of awkwardness in the room right now going through the roof?" "Oh, this is nothing for these gals, trust me," Marten said. That got dirty looks from Dora, Faye AND Penelope. "What? It's part of the charm of this place!" "Uh, we do need to get things set up for the concert tomorrow night," I said, hopeful of ending the Looks Could Kill parade. "Marten, I think we're going to be able to do some pre-show sound checks tonight. Can you meet us over at Smith Auditorium this evening?" "Sure," he said as the bell on the door rang. Lisa walked in and waved to us. "Hey guys, ready to go?" she said as she turned and saw Penelope. "Penny!" "Lisa," Penelope said as Lisa walked over to her and shook her hand, squeezing her upper arm. "You look fantastic!" she said to her. "I was actually hoping I'd catch up with you, when Diane invited us out here." She paused for a moment. "I know you have issues with her, but she still cares about you, you know." Penelope's demeanor turned on that comment. "Yeah, right, she just wants me to be 'saved' and all that," she said somewhat snidely. "I know what you're trying to do, and it's not gonna work, okay?" She turned to Dora. "I'm heading out to get lunch. I'll be back in a while." "But you already had your break" Dora tried saying as Penelope stormed out of the shop. "Boy, what the hell was that all about?" She turned and looked at us for a second, then added, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean" "Eh, we've heard worse in our lifetimes," said Dave. He turned to Lisa. "She's holding on to a lot of negativity there." Lisa sighed and looked at Mike. "It really wasn't a pretty sight, despite what Diane might have said about it," Lisa explained. "A lot of words, even worse than that, were said. She really despised her parents all over what they believed." Lisa sighed for a moment. "I had only seen her once, I think, after the fight." "You were there for the fight?" Cindy asked. Lisa nodded. "I had come home with Diane that summer," she explained. "I'll admit it was more or less so I could get away from mom for a while. That was about the time that Stephen was talking about working with Compassion International over in Kenya, and mom really didn't want him to go. I was staying with Diane when Pen came home and basically dumped all this anti-religion stuff on them. I really didn't know what to say, and I really didn't get a chance to say anything."

"You told me last you saw her was right before you left to go to Kenya, right?" Mike asked. "Strangely enough, at one of Cindy's concerts," she added. "I saw her backstage at some country show here in New England. Thunder In The Valley, I think is what it's called?" The three locals all shrugged. "I didn't know she liked country music," Dora said. "She didn't," Lisa quickly explained. "If memory serves, it was because her then-boyfriend did like the stuff. Diane told me it wasn't a very long relationship." The bell on the front door rang again as Diane walked in. "I assume she didn't take things very well?" she asked as she walked tentatively up to the group. Faye let out a low whistle. "Wow, you two must be sisters," Faye said, surprised. "Except for the hair, you look alike." She turned and looked at Dora. "Unless you're like Spookybutt here and dye your hair," she chuckled. "Faye, really," Dora said to her, somewhat annoyed. "You must be Diane?" Diane nodded in assent. "I've got the hall ready for you guys to set up tonight," she told us. "Did you have any luck finding someone to do the sound board?" Dave pointed at Marten. "This is Marten I didn't catch your last name, sorry?" Dave said, turning to him. "Marten Reed," he said as he shook Diane's hand. "I work over at Williston Library on the Smith Campus." Diane chuckled a bit. "You must get hit on a lot, working at an all-girls college library," she replied. "He's mostly oblivious to it," said Dora in response. "I do my best to keep him distracted." Diane nodded as she made the connection. "Well, I can meet you guys over at the auditorium at six. You can run through your set list and get him acquainted with the boards and everything." We all agreed, and exchanged a few phone numbers so we could get a hold of each other in case something happened. Once we got out of the shop, Dave was the first one to say the obvious: "Well, that was interesting." "Understatement of the century," I added. "I feel awful," Mike said. "I shouldn't have said anything." "No, it's my fault," Lisa assured him. "I should have known Penny was going to act that way." "What in the world happened with her?" Cindy asked. "Basically, her first year of college happened," Diane spoke up. "She got involved with some philosophy majors, to the point where she became atheistic. My parents didn't take it too well at the time." "I can imagine," Dave said. Diane nodded at that. "She's under this assumption that my mom and dad hate her, especially because they turned off the financial

spigot for her education." She shook her head in wonder. "What she didn't know is that they couldn't afford to put both of us through a full four years of college. The year before, right after they took her in for frosh orientation at Amherst, they explained that to me. I prepared myself, and I actually got a partial scholarship at Vandy so I could finish my schooling." She sighed. "Penny could have done the same. She always had great grades, and she was fantastic at writing and editing. Of course, she was always writing Star Trek Fanfic, but that's another story" Everyone turned to look at me as I failed to stifle a giggle. "What?" I said. "No one finds it funny that she was a Trekker?" "Says the guy who wrote his own Star Trek stuff," said Dave. I gave him the proper raspberry at that comment. Our rehearsal that night went well. Mike helped Marten out with the boards, and he was getting into some of our older stuff. "You guys have a definite '80's sound," he asked during a break. "I take it that was when you guys started as a band?" "Yep, most of our stuff was released from '84 to '91," I told him. "We were kinda all over the place musically back then. Now, we've just settled in to doing some more recent CCM stuff." "CCM?" Marten asked. "Contemporary Christian Music," Dave said. "It's basically a combination of various styles of modern music pop, punk, rock, metal, rap but all with Christian lyrics and themes." "Ah," Marten said. "I remember that from my music history classes the 'Jesus movement' of the early '70's, right?" "Perceptive, you are," Dave replied. "A lot of our influences were bands from that era Petra, Rez Band, Kerry Livgren, Larry Norman" "Larry Norman?" Marten asked, surprised. "Who's he?" "He is to Christian rock what Chuck Berry is to rock and roll," I offered. "He was the one who was first to ask that musical question, 'Why should the devil have all the good music?'" "Never heard of that one," Marten said. "We haven't really played it in a while," Dave replied. "We could fire it up, though." He turned to Mike and Cindy. "Want to give that one a go?" Mike shrugged, as did Cindy: "Sure, let's go for it." Mike counted us down and we cut into the song: I want the people to know that He saved my soul, but I still like to listen to the ra-di-o

They say, "Rock 'n roll is wrong, we'll give you one more chance" I say "I feel so good I gotta get up and dance!" Now I know what's right, and what's wrong I don't confuse it All I'm really tryin' to say is, Why should the devil have all the good music? I've been filled, I feel okay-ay 'cause Jesus is the Rock and He rolled my blues away!... As Dave started getting down with the guitar solo after the second bridge, I took a peek out at Marten behind the boards. He had this look of, "Wow, this guy can play!" on his face. I smiled and we cut into the last verse: Now Jesus told the truth and Jesus showed the way And there's one more thing I'd like to say They nailed Him to the cross and they laid Him in the ground But they shoulda known you can't keep a good Man down I feel good every day! I don't wanna lose it! All I wanna, all I wanna, all I wanna know is WHY SHOULD THE DEVIL HAVE ALL THE GOOD MUSIC? I feel good now every day-ay 'cause Jesus is the Rock and He rolled my blues Jesus is the Rock and He rolled my blues Jesus is the Rock and He rolled my blues away! There was a smattering of applause from the back of the room as we finished. Some of it came from Marten, but the other was from Diane and two others who were accompanying her. "Not bad for a bunch of old guys," Diane said as she approached the stage. "Cindy I found your songwriter." The tall guy with glasses in a white hoodie waved a bit. "You must be Sven," Cindy said as she put down her bass guitar. "Nice to finally meet you." She clambered down the stairs and over to where the three of them stood, and shook his hand. She turned to the lady next to him. "And you are?" "Lydia Thompson," she said as she offered her hand. "I'm a music major here at Smith." "Ah. Let me guess intern?" Sven nodded at Cindy's remark. "Diane caught us coming out of Northampton State Bank," he told her. "She mentioned that you were over

here with a band, and I couldn't resist dropping in to see how you were doing." As I was shutting off my stage sound monitor, I saw that Lydia gave him a raised eyebrow at that comment. Dave and I both clambered down off the stage as the two of them talked a little shop. "But yeah, it's gonna be a while before I put out another album," Cindy said. "The crap I had to put up with at Mercury Nashville was horrendous. At least that song of yours sold enough that they let me out of my contract." "Just another notch in the belt," Sven said. There was a cough from Lydia as he said that. I looked up and saw that Marten had come down to the front of the auditorium as well and he had a pained expression on his face from that comment. "I think we're pretty much set for tomorrow," I told Marten. "Thanks for your help." "No problem," he said. "Hey, Sven." "Marten!" Sven replied. "Did Dora rope you into doing this gig?" "No, this is what got him to do it," Dave said as he took the Les Paul off his shoulder and offered it to Marten to hold. "This thing's been through a lot, so be careful," he said as Marten looked at it, wide-eyed. "A Gibson Les Paul?" Sven said in admiration. Dave nodded. "Wow" Marten was breathing heavy as he held it in his hands. "Wow." "What's got him so worked up?" Lydia asked. "Oh, he's fan-boying a bit over the guitar," I said. "He's impressed that it's not only a Les Paul model, but it also was handled by the man himself before he passed away." This caused Sven's eyebrows to shoot up. "You're kidding?" he said in astonishment. I shrugged a bit. "I'm from the Waukesha area," I said. "We had a lot of opportunities to meet and chat with him." Marten gingerly played a few chords on the guitar, then handed it back to Dave. "Wow" he said again. "I think I need to call my sister and tell her you need to have your reset button pushed," Sven said with a little laugh. He turned to Cindy. "I assume that you didn't need any other referrals for people to help with your concert tomorrow?" "Not really," she said. "Good, because I can't really think of anyone else who'd be able to help," he said. That got a bit of a laugh from Mike and Dave. We got the rest of our gear stowed in the back as Cindy and Diane escorted the pair back out to the lobby. Dave and I discussed our set list again, deciding that we'd add the Larry Norman song early in the set. As we finally

got back to the lobby, we saw that Cindy and Diane were chatting with Lisa. "Yeah, it's funny," Diane was saying. "I think her mom and I used to go to the same church. Rather strange to run into her up here in Western Massachusetts." "Marten already left?" Dave asked. Diane nodded. "We told him to be back over here at four tomorrow to get set up." Diane frowned a bit. "We were going to open the doors at six," she said. "Is that gonna be enough time for you guys?" Dave nodded. "Two hours should be more than enough," he said. "We've done on less." He paused for a second. "Not, of course, that we'd want to do it" Diane laughed at that. "We wouldn't want to do that, either," she said. "Let's get you guys back to the hotel." The next morning dawned a bit warmer than the previous day in Northampton. I got up, showered and dressed, and asked Sarah if she wanted to join me for some coffee with the rest of the group. She decided she wanted to just go back to bed. I shrugged and let her know I'd be back afterwards. I met up with Cindy, Dave and Mike out in the lobby, and decided to hoof it over to the coffee shop near downtown. "Does anyone else find it ironic that a place called 'Coffee of Doom' is located on Pleasant Street?" I asked as we were winding our way through the early morning streets. "Considering the clientele they cater to," Cindy commented, "I think it's appropriate if only for the laughs." Cindy turned to her youngest brother. "Lisa decided to sleep in today?" "Yeah, that and she didn't want any drama in case Penelope was there," he said. The shop had just opened when we got there. The barista with the glasses (Faye) was the one behind the counter. "Hey, it's the geezers of God-rock!" she said as we clambered through the door. "What can we get you guys?" "Same as yesterday, I think," I volunteered. "Let's see three large lattes, two with an extra shot of espresso, and one large coffee, black." Faye dutifully rang it up on the register. "And that'll be $13.25, just like yesterday," she said as she took the cash from Cindy. As she gave her back the change and went over to make the drinks, she asked Dave, "So what are you guys doing up so early?" "The need for coffee knows no hour," Dave chuckled as he leaned against the counter. "And, we like to sit down together as a band the morning before a show." "Really?" Faye said as she handed Mike his black coffee. "Most bands I know do that after the concert as they're tearing up the hotel." I gave a chuckle at that. "By the way, where's your boss?" I asked. "She doesn't do the morning shift in here?" Faye shook her head.

"Fridays are usually one of our slow days," she says. "She doesn't usually get up until after Marty's gone off to work at about eight." She thought about that after a moment as she handed me my latte. "Uh, that is, you know, not that they're usually doing anything" "I take it they're living together?" Cindy diffused the situation with her query. "Hey, we're not all perfect around here," she said with a soothing smile. "Living together isn't going to send you to hell." "It's a bit more complicated than that," Mike said with his own disarming chuckle. Faye gave a look that could either be interpreted as not understanding (or not wanting to understand) the joke, then handed out the last two lattes. "Here ya go," she said. "You guys aren't going to sit down here and have a Bible study or anything, are you?" "Why?" Dave asked. "Does it get too noisy this time of morning because of the train tracks?" The genuine concern caught her off guard. "Uh, well, no, because this is usually the time of morning when I listen to some of my backlog of CD"s," she said in a bit of a stammer. "Hey, we can sing too, you know," I offered. "Hum a few bars and we might be able to fake it." This caused Faye to have a pained expression on her face. "Look, it is nothing personal," she said, holding her hand up. "This is just part of my time away from my roommates in the morning." "But you guys open at 6:30," Cindy stated. "What do you do, close down for an hour?" "Actually, after our morning rush of co-eds getting their coffees before class, no one usually comes in here after seven," she explained. "Not until after classes let out, at about 8:30. By that time, Dora should be here." "Gotcha," Dave said. "Well, you wouldn't mind if we hung out here? We really don't have anywhere else to sit and talk as a group." "Do you mind if I put on some Firey Furnace?" she retorted. "Wow, you like Blueberry Boat too?" Mike asked. This really caught her off guard. "Huh?" "Yeah, I worked with them a bit when I was doing studio work in LA a few years back," he explained. "I was all over the place with some of the bands I dealt with. Evanescence, Alter Bridge, Flyleaf, Switchfoot and some gal by the name of Kathryn Hudson." "Who?" "She changed her name to Katy Perry," Mike explained. "Dave and I did some of her backing music on her first album." He gave a wry smile. "You're dealing with professional musicians here, darlin'." She was about to say something when the bell on the door opened. A bespectacled guy with brownish hair walked in and waved at Faye.

"Little busy for this early in the morning, hey?" he said to her as she got up to get back behind the counter. He gave our group a nod as Faye clambered back over the counter. "Well," Mike said to the rest of us, "have we decided on the set list for tonight?" "Think we should keep it simple," I suggested. "Stick to how we've been doing it so far this year. Though I think we should stick 'Why Should The Devil' towards the front of the set." "Were we gonna try 'Not A Baby' again?" Cindy asked. "The song doesn't quite fit in the middle of April." I was about to reply when Dave commented, "I think I know that guy from somewhere." He got up and walked over to the counter. "Excuse me, but" That was as far as Dave got before the customer exclaimed, "Dave Lewis! Wow, never thought I'd see you here in Northampton!" He shook his hand. "What brings you to the Pioneer Valley?" "We're playing a gig over at Smith tonight," Dave replied. "You'll have to pardon me for not remembering who you are, though." This was replied with by a small wave of the hand. "I don't expect you remember me," he said. "Angus McPhee. I was the student facilitator for your speech at CCNY back in 2004. You were part of a debate panel with Dee Snyder and that one preacher from Atlanta, Georgia. That was one spirited discussion you guys had!" Dave suddenly remembered the circumstances. "Yeah, I was asked to come because they said Steve Camp couldn't make it." He rolled his eyes for a second. "Little did I know that they didn't even call him." Angus nodded. "The whole thing was pretty much a setup to make that preacher look bad, I think," he explained. "The faculty advisor insisted that they bring in someone who was a moderate to the debate, and they figured you'd be the one." He chuckled a bit. "They didn't know about your little incident in California, though." "California?" Faye asked. "Very long story," Dave said. "Short version: I got mixed up with a girl who was dabbling in Satanism. She tried killing me, and now she's behind bars for a long, long time." He looked at Angus. "That kinda floored Mr. Snyder when I shared it." "And the preacher was floored by your antics with Joe Elliot and the rest of Def Leppard," Angus elaborated. "He openly wondered how you were going avoid the depths of hell for your actions." "I wondered that myself at the time," Dave replied. He hooked a thumb towards Faye. "You two know each other, I take it?" "Depends on the day of the week," Faye said with a snort. "He comes in here and does his best to get me riled up in the morning, so I'm ready to sass people the rest of the day."

"Interesting concept," Dave replied. "Not sure if that's a sustainable business model, though." Faye smiled at that comment. "Dora's explanation is always, 'We cater to people who like their coffee strong, fair trade and free of soulless corporate pretension.'" She paused for a moment. "Also through threats and sexy intimidation." "Believe me, Faye's good at those last two," Angus said. Faye gave him a death look as she handed him his coffee. "The coffee's pretty good, too." "Yeah, you better say that," she interjected. "Oh, that reminds me," Dave said as he grabbed an envelope off the table. "Lisa gave me this for you guys here at the shop." He handed it to Faye. "Backstage passes to our show tonight." Faye looked at it with some surprise. "She was hoping that Pen might take her up on some freebies." "I dunno," Faye said after a moment, putting the envelope down on the counter. "She didn't seem too thrilled last time you were in here. I can ask her when she gets in later today, though." "That's all Lisa wanted, I think," Dave said. He turned to Angus. "If you're interested, we can get you backstage passes, too." Angus narrowed his eyes for a second in thought. "Not quite sure," he said. "Haven't been to a God-Rock show before except for that one time I ended up in the wrong studio and listened to some group called DC Talk." "Hey, we've worked with them, too," Dave said. "Toby Mac and the rest of their group did a cover of one of our songs." Angus raised an eyebrow. "They were a bit weird, though. Rap metal with a tinge of Negro spiritual, sung by a group of white grunge rockers?" Dave shrugged. "It worked for them," he said. "Toby Mac's on his own nowadays, though." He took two of the passes from the envelope and offered them to Angus. "Free show, no pressure." Angus looked at Faye for a moment. "I'm not gonna be able to make it," she said. "I'm working open to close tonight, and I was gonna go out with Hanners afterwards to the Karaoke bar over on Bridge." Angus pursed his lips for a second. "Okay, I guess I'll see if I can pry Marigold away from her computer long enough to go," he said, taking the passes from Dave. "Not gonna make any guarantees, though." "No problem," Dave said. "We get these passes for concerts anyways, and usually all we do is just give them away to people. Especially in towns where we don't know anyone to begin with." Angus nodded. "Good way to get people to the concerts," he said. "I've gotta scoot, though. Thanks again, and see you later, Faye." She gave him a wave and he trotted out the door. Dave came back over by us and sat down once again. "That was interesting," Dave said with a wistful look. "What is it with this town?" I asked. "Everyone seems to know someone else around here except for me."

"Can't help it you haven't done much since you got married, there, Joe," Cindy said. "Tee hee," I said in reply. The rest of the day went by quickly, even as we did some meet-and-greets and even a brief interview on the campus radio station. The deejay was enamored with the stories that Dave and Mike told about the music business, and Cindy recalled the incident she had in Seattle on Shania's tour "I'll never be able to see a garbage bag the same way ever again," she explained. We showed up for the quick rehearsal before the concert, confident that we had things down after about two months of touring. Marten had no trouble getting the boards working, and we were all set for the night's activities. We had expressed to Diane beforehand that we didn't want any meet-and-greets before the concert, as the 15 minutes prior to the start was our "pray and scream" time. That was the term Lisa had given it after a rehearsal prior to a concert early on in the tour had been a bit of a hassle. Pretty much anything that could have gone wrong with our mikes, our instruments, or the lighting, did go wrong. We all ended up screaming in frustration just before we went out and had what even the meticulous Mike Lewis agreed was the best concert we'd ever done. We started out with what I called our "comeback" song, "Freedom (Break The Chains)". It was rather obvious that we had a pretty good sized crowd at that point definitely a capacity crowd for the smallish venue. "Freedom" led us into the song that was a big video hit, our version of Greg Ferguson's "One Life". We mixed it up a bit as the concert went on, slowing it down with our take on Petra's "More Power To Ya" and the duet version we'd been experimenting with of "He's My Power". Cindy and I had tossed out the idea a few weeks prior to sing it as a duet instead of just me performing it straight up especially as we were placing it right after "More Power to Ya". Soon, it came down to our penultimate song, and as the last notes of "Covered Up" hung in the air and the applause rang through the old auditorium, I looked backstage quickly and saw Angus standing next to a girl I didn't recognize but I assumed was the Marigold he had talked about. I waved at him as I grabbed a towel to dry some of the sweat off and grabbed a bottle of water as I went back on stage. I waved at the crowd as I drank the water down, waiting for the applause to die down as I went into my little speech what I liked to call my "anti-Altar Call". "Back in the old days," I began, "this would be the time of our concert where we'd have an 'Altar Call'. I'd read y'all a bit about the Four Spiritual Laws or something" This got a smattering of applause this was, after all, a Campus Crusade-sponsored event. "But the

truth is, most of the people who attend Christian rock concerts are already Christians. And as much as I'd like to practice what Jesus preached about the one lost sheep, I'm thinking it's redundant. "See, there's been some studies about those who attend concerts like this, and the findings have been overwhelmingly clear. The people who attend Christian rock concerts tend to be and prepare to be amazed by this revelation already Christians." I stopped as there was some laughter mixed in with applause. "I know, I know, hard to believe. But the truth is, if anyone were to be standing up here and preachifying at you about salvation and the Sinner's prayer and whatnot, it would be the equivalent of preaching to the choir. "So I'm not gonna do that." That brought out a few jeers. "I figure that if there is anyone out there who has questions about God, and Jesus, and everything we've been singing about tonight well, there's a lot of you out there who can help out those who have questions about what we've been singing about. I will say this if you aren't sure about anything, or if you have questions, please ask one of the wonderful people from Campus Crusade of Western Massachusetts. They'll be more than willing to point you in the right direction." There was a smattering of applause after that. "Now, what I am gonna tell you is pretty important, so you better listen anyways. See, I could tell you all sorts of things about God and Jesus and heaven, and I could do all sorts of miraculous things and move mountains and yet it'd mean nothing if I didn't show it by how I live or how I act. "Paul talks about this in his famous chapter about what love is in 1st Corinthians 13. When he talks about having love, he's talking about that care that we have for others that has no conditions. Not 'I love you if', nor 'I love you because'. No, it's 'I love you regardless'. No ifs, ands, buts or questions about it. James goes on to talk about how we're supposed to show this love by what we do. "Simple actions can have long-term results. One act of kindness that you display tonight could lead to a lifetime of blessings to another person. One show of concern for another could lead to a changed life. And one act of mercy could lead to a lifetime of forgiveness." I paused for a moment as I looked out on the crowd. Silently, the rest of the band rejoined me on stage. "It's up to you how you're going to react to this challenge of showing love to others." Lisa started to play a lilting melody to echo my words. "You can ignore it which wouldn't make your faith much more than lip service. You can be consumed by it to the point where it becomes more important to you than your faith. Or you can put it into action to show what you believe to others. It's up to you, really. "Jesus warned His disciples about being consumed by the works they perform in a statement He made after sending out over 70 of His followers into the Judean countryside: 'Do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you,

but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.' In essence, He was repeating what Solomon said back in Proverbs: Pride goes before destruction. Instead, He wants us to focus on Him. "He's always said that. He said it before he raised Lazarus from the grave: 'I am the resurrection and the life. Do you believe this?' He said it the night before he was crucified: 'I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.' He is, as we've sung before, the only way to go." This brought a huge cheer from the crowd. "We're going to finish up here tonight with one last song" That got some catcalls from the audience. "But we're going to leave you with this: We will always do right to remember His love for us. For his mercy and grace and peace can come upon us in a moment, but last for a lifetime." At this, Cindy started a low bass beat on her Ibanez. "We can rise or we can fall, but His love will change us in an instant like lightning." And as the crowd cheered, we dived into our signature song: "Like Lightning". Well you found me when I stumbled You picked me up again You saved me from dying And now it all makes sense Like lightning It struck me Like lightning from above Like lightning You found me Like lightning, like love Well I need You constantly Or who knows where I'll stray But I know that You'll keep me Until that final day Like lightning It struck me Like lightning from above Like lightning You found me Like lightning, like love Like lightning It struck me Like lightning from above Like lightning You found me Like lightning, like love Like lightning

After the concert, we were pressed by a lot of individual members of Campus Crusade and church groups from the Pioneer Valley area. There was a lot of good discussion and a lot more photo taking and autograph signing and laughing and joking. Diane finally helped us get down to the business of tearing down our equipment and getting our stuff ready to move on to the next town. She was excited about the turnout, but she seemed a bit reserved over the fact. "Something wrong?" I asked as we finished rolling the last amp into the cargo area under the RV. "I guess I was just hoping that maybe Pen would be at the concert," she said. "Figured maybe she'd give it a shot if Lisa was involved, but I didn't see her at all." She lowered her head. "I guess I was wrong." Diane sighed and headed back into the auditorium to talk to the volunteer stage hands. I turned and saw Marten and Dave talking to Angus and Marigold over by the back door of the auditorium. "Yeah, Dee had this look on his face like, 'You're kidding me!' I actually showed him the court papers to prove it." Angus laughed. "I bet that quieted him down for the rest of the interview," Marten suggested. Dave nodded in assent. I waved to Angus and Marten. "Thanks again for your help, Marten," I said to him. "So what'd you think?" Marten paused for a moment. "Pretty good post-punk neo-metal pop sound you have there," he replied. "Your sister plays a mean bass," he told Dave. "I love that next-to-last song you guys did," Angus said. "Catchy, kinda reminds me of Republica." He paused for a moment. "Didn't figure you for the preacher type, though." "I don't pretend to be one," I said. "Just talking about what I believe, and then singing about it." I looked around for a moment. "Hey, did either of you happen to see Penelope at the concert tonight?" Both of them shrugged. "I try to avoid her when she works at the shop," Angus said. "She nearly brained me with a coffee carafe last time I tried to talk about the latest album from the Decemberists." "I didn't see her from the board," Marten said. "Of course, this place was packed; she could have snuck in and not be seen." I sighed at that remark. "Yeah, I think you might be right," I said. "Thanks for your help again, Marten." I shook his hand. "I think Lisa has the checkbook; I'll see if she's in the RV so you can get paid." He nodded as I headed over to the entry door of the bus. I climbed the steps into the door and suddenly realized I wasn't alone in the RV. There, seated at the kitchenette table, was Lisa with Penelope seated across from her. "Oh, hey, Joe," Lisa greeted me somewhat quickly. "I was just catching up with Penny here." Penelope's look was neutral as she turned towards me. "Is it time for us to head out yet?"

"Oh, no," I said. "I was just looking for the checkbook so we could pay Marten for his assistance on the boards." This caused Penelope to raise her eyebrows for a moment. "He actually helped you guys run sound?" she asked. I nodded. "Does that surprise you for some reason?" "No, it's not that," she said. "I thought the job was out of his area of expertise. He never struck me as the type to be able to run a sound board at a concert." Lisa had fished out the checkbook from the file cabinet in the back closet area. "Our usual payment for him?" she asked. I nodded at that, and she wrote the check out. "I'll go track him down," she stated as she rose to head out of the RV. "He's over by the stage door," I said as I followed her to the door. Cindy appeared as Lisa popped out the door. "Boy, we're like Grand Central tonight, aren't we?" she said as she climbed aboard the bus. She saw Penelope rise from the table. "Oh, Penelope! Glad you came. Diane was hoping you might drop over." Penelope put her hands up in defense. "I just stopped in to talk to Lisa after the concert," she said. "Didn't want to hear all the music." She paused for a moment. "I have to go catch up with my boyfriend over at the Horrible Revelation." "Oh, yeah," Cindy said in recognition. "That's that one bar with the one-way glass windows and the Victorian theme clothing." She smile as Pen gave her an inquisitive look. "The gal at the radio station told me about it. Pretty popular place, from what I understand." "Didn't think people like you went to places like that," she said. "We don't, generally," Cindy replied. "Sometimes, though, those type of places have the best atmosphere for good music." "Maybe, if you're into country music, I guess," she said. "I do have to go, though," she said as she headed down the steps and out the bus. "Tell Lisa thanks again for me," she mentioned as she turned and headed down the sidewalk back towards downtown Northampton. The next morning, we were getting everything squared away at the Quality Inn before heading out to our next stop a church in Albany where we were going to do a mini-concert during one of their Saturday evening services. We had everything set and packed up when Lisa asked if we had time to pop over to the coffee shop one last time to at least get some coffee for the road. None of us had any objection, so we swung the RV over to Pleasant Street and the shop. Lisa and Mike popped in to pick up our coffee orders. It took a bit, but they finally emerged from the shop with two trays of coffee cups. "Dora actually gave these to us on the house," she told us. "Marten apparently gave a glowing report of our concert to her last night." We distributed the drinks to the appropriate people on the bus except Sarah, who was already crashed out in the back.

We headed out and got back on the Interstate, heading down 91 back to Springfield. As we wound our way through the valley, I mused aloud whether or not we made a difference in people's lives there in Northampton. "Sometimes it's more evident than others," Dave replied to my query. "Other times, you just hope that God has worked in their hearts and minds, and let His spirit do the rest." "I agree," Cindy chimed in. "If we've done something to make somebody question the content of their beliefs, then we've at least got them going in the right direction." "Question content." I took a look out the window as the first exit sign for the Massachusetts Turnpike came into view. "Sometimes I wonder if it's more like questionable content."
(NOTE: Text in Arial Narrow was changed for the revised version.)