The Music Trilogy (71 page)

BAGHDAD

CHAPTER 31

The concert was being held at the Babylon Coliseum, on the grounds of what used to be Saddam Hussein’s palace.

The soldiers were all excited. So far the concert had been a great success, especially the backup singers, who were really good, and really pretty. Only Max was apprehensive. Was his mother going to mention that she had a son in the Marines? And that he was probably right here at the concert. He spied the closest exit and tried to leave.

“Hey, Music Man, where the fuck you goin’? Honey asked. “You can’t leave now. Davina Walters is next, and she’s amazing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure, but something didn’t agree with my stomach.”

“Suck it up, Marine!” Jock said.

And then there she was. Davina Walters came out on stage, beautiful, elegant and in complete control of her element. Her silk dress was layered in different colors and gave the sensation of a rainbow of air.

“Wow, man, I know she’s not twenty, but damn she’s hot!” Jock said.

Max could feel the crimson rolling up from his neck to his eyebrows. That was his
mother
they were talking about. Thank God they didn’t know they were related.

“I’d say she’s more refined and elegant, with a hell of a voice, and she’s got some great songs that she’s composed herself,” Honey said.

Max thought his mother would be flattered, and he was pretty damn proud of that lady on the stage.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Jock-Strap, even though she’s from an older generation her music is timeless.”

“Sounds like you know something about her.”

“What can I say, I’m a man in the know, Dude.”

“How ‘bout you, Max, you know her?”

Oh, oh, here it comes.
“Uh, yeah, I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, what do you think?”

What do I think of my Mom? Shit, I need to disappear, and fast.
“Uh, good singer and musician.”

“That’s it?

“I guess.”

Davina’s song came to an end. The audience clapped profusely. Max looked at the exit.

“Don’t even think about it. She’s gonna sing again, and it would be rude to leave. ‘Member what they taught us in boot camp? Manners, sir, manners.”

“Oh brother!” Max exclaimed laughing, you’re too much, Jock-Strap.

“Uh, huh, you know it.”

“Gentlemen… well ladies too, I’m am partial you know…” The audience laughed. “Do any of you sing or play an instrument?” The soldiers whistled and screamed, some raised their hands. “Really! That’s great. So who is going to join me on stage? They stared, unsure of what she was asking. “Now, come on, don’t be shy.”

“This one here!” Jock yelled, pushing Max forward.

“Are you are fucking nuts!?” Max hissed between his teeth.

“Come on, really, I don’t bite,” Davina was saying. A couple of the men scrambled up on stage, one of them was Colin. “Ah, now I know why they call you Marines—fearless!” The crowd loved it. Jock and Honey literally lifted Max on stage.

“I’ll get you for this, you bastards,” Max swore.

There he was! Her ‘little boy’. “One more. Good,” Davina said, never letting on that the man they just lifted up on the stage was her son, but her heart did skip a beat. “Welcome, boys, now please introduce yourselves.” Davina waved them closer to her. The men complied. Max tried to hide behind the others. She put an arm around one of them, a good looking Hispanic man. “What’s your name,
guapeton
, handsome?” The audience whistled.

“Francisco Martinez,
Señora
, they call me Paco.”

“Where are you from Paco?”

“L.A., Ma’am.”

“Ah, city of Angels, and I’m sure you’re one of them.” The audience oohed and aawed, affectionately mocking him.

But Paco wasn’t intimidated in the least, and he played along. “Well, that’s what my mother says, but not my girlfriends.” They laughed and clapped. Davina looked at the spectators without saying anything, and then lifted an eyebrow. “I understand, Latin lover,” she said smiling.

“Si, Señora,”
Paco answered, grinning.

“And do you play an instrument?”

“Yes, Ma’am, the guitar.”

“Great instrument. Classical or electric?”

“Both. But I prefer Rock and Roll, electric.”

“Love it! This should be fun,” Davina said. She turned to the next man and beckoned him to her. It was Max. He went up to her and God, how he wanted to hug her. But he held back. She put her arm around him nonchalantly, as she had with Paco. Her hand rested on his shoulder and she squeezed. Nobody noticed, but mother and son felt the electric connection. They kept up appearances. Davina wanted to tell the whole world that her son was this handsome Marine, and how damn proud she was. Instead she kept herself stoic and professional.

“Ah, another handsome guy!” Max cringed. The women in the audience whistled. “And what is your name?”

“Max.”

“Music Man!” Someone from the audience yelled.

“Music Man?”

“It’s a nickname the guys gave me.”

“Oh, I like that. So, tell me Music Man, why do they call you that?”

Max wanted to bolt right out of the hall, but he kept cool. “I got it in boot camp.”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

Mom, for Christ sake!
“I find that music and rhythm can get you through anything, and I use it when things get tough.”

“Very wise. I’m been promoting that myself for years. Is there anyone who doesn’t like music?” She asked the crowd.

“NO!” They all yelled back.

“So you must surely play a musical instrument?” She very well knew he did, and not just one.

“I do.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“Bongos.”

“Oh, now those are fun. I’m sure we can find some.”

“I really don’t want to play…”

Davina had already turned to the third man. “Last but definitely not least!” The big black man could have been an NFL linebacker. No fat, just pure, hard muscle. Davina tried to put her arm around him, but he was too big. The audience laughed. One of them hollered: “Just pick her up, Col.”

And he did just that. Colin picked Davina up, albeit very gently, and hugged her. Davina disappeared in the man’s embrace. “Real pleasure to meet you Ma’am.” She caught her breath when he let her go.

“Pleasure to meet you too, big boy, now that I can breathe again.” Even Max laughed at that. “I have to say America produces the most handsome men! Don’t you agree?” Davina asked her audience.” They of course agreed by cheering as loud as possible. “And what is your name?”

“Colin Haferty, Ma’am, but they call me Colossus, Col for short.”

“Makes perfect sense, Col, thank you for that wonderful hug and for your service.”

“Yes, Ma’am, it’s a pleasure, Ma’am.”

“And where are your from, Col?”

“New Orleans, Ma’am.”

“Ah, land of the Saints,” the crowd cheered at the mention of the football team, “and of great music.”

“Oh, yes Ma’am, and great food.” The audience clapped and hollered some more.

“Absolutely! I bet you’re a singer, Col.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Would you sing something for us?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The beauty that came out of the giant’s mouth was heart-stopping. The
a capella
rendition of
Amazing Grace
gripped every person in the hall. Colin’s singing was effortless—he was born to sing, and the audience was witnessing an amazing talent. The notes coming out of his lips were perfectly shaped and crisp, and flowed like warm syrup. Even the most hardened soldiers couldn’t help feeling the wet sting in their eyes. Davina, as her son had been months before in boot camp, was duly impressed as well. She now slowly motioned with her hand and the band smoothly came in with their instruments. She turned to the big man and, as the song dictated, gently accompanied him. They became a mesmerizing duet. Besides the music and the singing the hall was completely silent. It seemed as if every soul in the room was holding their breath. As she sang Davina looked at the man’s eyes with pure professional love, and even pride. Only music could have such an effect.

When they finished Davina hugged the colossus, well, as best she could. She smiled at him and spoke into the microphone: “You are a man of grace, Colin Haferty, a fine southern gentleman, and I’m sure a great warrior. We thank you for everything you do. Now, when this is all over, come see me. Let’s get the whole world to enjoy your beautiful voice.” The crowd exploded.

“Oh, yes ma’am, I surely will,” the colossus said, as sweetly as a young boy being told that he was on his way to Disney World.

“Alright, everybody, time for Paco and Max, I’m mean Music Man.” Max glared at her. Davina smiled. “Get these men some instruments.” The members of her band immediately brought an electric guitar and a set of bongos.

Paco plucked the strings and the sound that come from the amplifiers made musical waves. Everyone immediately knew that the guitar playing would be divine. They roared in anticipation.

“Oh yeah! Good choice, Martinez.” Max said, immediately recognizing the first notes.

“For you,
Señora
, a timeless classic.
Rrrr, sabor!”

Davina had recognized it too. “Nothing like Santana! Go for it Paco.” She moved toward the back of the stage and let Martinez and Max follow their passion. Paco’s fingers were like a machine—precise and never faltered. And Max accompanied him on the bongos. His hands moved so fast they were just a blur. The beat vibrated throughout the hall and into everyone’s body. Yes, her son had the genes, and when he beat the skins Max was in another world. Dry ice was released from the side of the stage and the men played with adoring frenzy as the clouds of white smoke danced around them. Through the haze Davina was sure she was seeing the souls of the ancestral musicians of her family.

The men on the stage played to their hearts’ content, and their audience was with them. They loved the impromptu spectacle and were proud to be among peers. They were not only great warriors, they were also magnificent musicians. Music at its best, as only music can bring people together. This was
their
moment—this was Warrior Music.

“
Señora
Davina,
orale,
come on!” And Davina did. She sang and danced to the rhythm and the music right along with Paco and Max, although she was careful not to stand next to her son. She worried that someone might recognize them, and she did not want him in any kind of awkward situation. Being in a war was definitely enough.

Max was incredibly proud of his mother. Why hadn’t he seen how ‘hip’ she was before this? He realized how magnificent she was, and not just as a mother. He watched her as she motioned for the backup singers to join her at the front of the stage. The men in the audience whistled at the beautiful women. The trio sang in Spanish, all of them fluent in the language. If the spectators closed their eyes they would have said that not only were their mouths singing, but their souls as well. It was a night no one in the hall would ever forget.

“Oh,
Señor
Santana would be so proud! Everybody agree?” Davina asked the crowd when they had finished. They answered her back with whistles and yells. “Gentlemen,” Davina said to the three impromptu musicians, and opened her arms. She hugged Col, Paco and Max. “Come see me in my tent at the end of the concert, I’ll be waiting for you,” she whispered to them. “Yes, ma’am,” they answered or nodded, and left the stage.

Davina went to the front of the stage, the backup singers right behind her. She looked at her audience, thinking how much she had cherished the time she had just spent with these men and women. This would surely be one of her favorite concerts of all time. And seeing Max, even for just a few minutes was worth all the preparations and effort everyone had put into it. “Our final song this evening, ladies and gentlemen, is a message from your loved ones back home.” All of the entertainers joined her—the country singers, rappers, musicians and backup singers. “Please know that they are always thinking of you, praying for you, waiting for you to get back safe and sound, as are all of us here. We are immeasurably proud and love you very, very much. So, from all of us…” Davina’s musicians started playing a few notes and then the entertainers started singing ‘…Courtesy of the red, white and blue.…” Everyone in the hall joined in as well.

As promised Paco, Colin and Max went to Davina’s tent. She was sitting in a folding chair. “Gentlemen, come in, thank you for coming.”

“Yes, Ma’am!” The trio said in unison.

“I think you are terrific musicians and the world should be blessed with your talents. When you get back to the States I want you to call me, and for heaven’s sake don’t give my number out to anybody else. I love my fans, but I need some privacy too.”