Getting Real - Page 14

Not just clean socks. But gravy and baked potatoes too.

“We can do that. Saves the vetting process, and because we can rehearse them, there’s no risk of a slip up.”

“My thoughts precisely,” said Jonas. “We need two guys and we rotate them each night in each city. As far as the audience is concerned, it’s some lucky guy we pull randomly from the crowd who gets his thrills riding in the Hand of God with a rock goddess.”

Jake nodded. This was washable, digestible and a whole lot of fun. The telescopic tower which could move up and down and travel sideways was an amazing addition to the staging, but the idea of some loose cannon punter up there had worried him. Now that he knew he could control the outcome he was happy with it.

“I need two guys who look the part, plus an understudy,” said Jonas.

Jake laughed. That’s where the idea got wobbly. “Exactly what part do you want them to look? I can offer you desperado, bogan and dropkick, but I’m assuming you’re going after something more in keeping with the fan base?”

Jonas laughed too, and looked over his sunglasses. “What about you Jake? You’d be perfect! We want to give the fan girls something to look at too.”

“Not on your life!” Jake spluttered, his knee caps tightening at the mention of it. But Jonas was serious. Apparently he was the only one who hadn’t witnessed his cheap seats meltdown yesterday. Recovering he said, “I’ve got enough to do on the ground.”

Eventually they chose Teflon, and one of the staging roadies, Bunk, with Lizard conscripted as understudy.

“You want us to do what?” said Teflon, scratching his head, when Jake explained it to the three of them. They were standing in the wings with the telescopic tower waiting for Jonas and Rielle.

“Shit yeah,” said Bunk, “but why can’t I do it every night?”

“Because we want it to seem real for the paying punters. If someone sees more than one show, and we know punters will do that, we can’t have the same bloke chosen randomly.”

“Oh,” said Bunk, curling his lip with annoyance.

But Teflon had a big cartoon character grin on his face. He turned to Lizard and said, “Understudy my jocks, Liz,” which Jake took to mean that as far as Teflon was concerned, the closest Lizard would get to the Hand of God was Teflon’s laundry bag.

When Rielle joined them, she had a big juicy smile for the boys, but stared through Jake’s welcome nod. Always good when your employer cuts you dead. Teflon could scarcely contain his excitement. He’d ditched his bandana, combed his tangled blond hair and tucked in his t-shirt in preparation for his role as the lucky randomly-picked audience member. Jake struggled to keep a straight face; he’d never seen Tef take anything so seriously.

When Tef went up the short ladder into the cage, he held out his hand to help Rielle up. She ignored him, leaving him with an outstretched hand and a self-conscious expression, and completed the climb herself. Jake watched with Jonas, Bunk, Lizard and Bodge from the stage floor, where the sight line didn’t trigger his vertigo more than a touch. He’d bet his lunch on the fact this was going to be awkward if not excruciatingly embarrassing for Tef.

Jonas fiddled with his sunglasses, eyeing the cage. “The audience doesn’t see this part where they climb in, it’s in the wings. They become aware of the cage as it extends from the stage. Rielle, it’s all yours,” he called, and then he lay down on the stage floor with his hands behind his head, looking like he was going to have a snooze.

Rielle stood in the cage with Teflon. It had a fixed, narrow bench seat running through the middle of the space and waist-high tempered glass sides. She wore tiny shorts, a singlet with rips and pins in it, and high heeled boots. Today she had green stripes in her hair. Punk by design and punk by nature, and from the way she’d brushed him, not happy to see him still on deck after the incident in the cheap seats. He shook it off. If the Mainlines wanted him off the show, they only had to ask. Until they did, he had a job to do.

“Sit up behind me and put your legs on the outside of mine,” she instructed Teflon.

He sat, his long legs either side of Rielle’s. “Sit close,” she said, and Teflon scooted closer, but not close enough. She frowned. “Like crowd me, dude.” Teflon cocked his head, and jammed his body up against Rielle’s back. He had a goofy expression on his face that made Jake clamp down on his back teeth not to laugh. Lizard and Bunk didn’t feel the same compulsion, both of them yucking it up. He silenced them with a noisy throat clear.

“I want your arms around me and your hands on my knees. That’s while the extension is happening and the cage is moving. When we get to the top, we stand. Then I want your hands all over me,” said Rielle.

Teflon’s eyes popped—his grin was rubber lipped. He shot a triumphant look at Bunk and Liz and chanted, “Yes, Miss, right away, Miss.”

“Show me how it’s done, you wanker,” called Bunk, slapping down a challenge.

A throat clear wasn’t going to do it. “Stow it, Bunk.”

Rielle stood, and a heartbeat behind her Teflon stood as well. He towered over her, his arms suddenly looking octopus tentacle long. He wrapped Rielle in an awkward bear hug and she slapped his hands away.

“I’m singing, you loser. If you do that you’ll cut my air off.”

Jake winced. Bodge beside him did too. The two other jokers were dead of night quiet.

“Sorry.” Tef dropped his arms as though Rielle ha

d scalded him.

“Try again,” she said.

Tags: Ainslie Paton Romance
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