Page · 5 panels
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Layout — 5 panels
[art pending]
On the stage between songs. Jesse mopping sweat with a rag from Dev's back pocket. Dev replacing a broken stick.
- JESSEDev.
- DEVYeah.
- JESSEThe grandfather.
- DEVI see him.
- JESSEHe brought a Strat.
- DEVI see the Strat.
- JESSEDev.
- DEV…Bring him up?
- JESSEBring him up.
[art pending]
Jesse to the mic.
- JESSEVegas. We have guests.
- JESSEThere is a man in this crowd who has been carrying a guitar in a closet for fifty years.
- JESSEHe brought it tonight.
- JESSEI am going to ask him to come up on this stage.
- JESSEHis name —
- JESSE(looking down, at the grandfather, who is now at the lip of the stage)— I don't even know.
- GRANDFATHER(from below)RUBÉN.
- JESSELadies and gentlemen — RUBÉN.
[art pending]
Rubén — early seventies, a wave-symbol button pinned to his lapel — climbs onto the stage. The Strat over his shoulder. The crowd roars. He looks at Jesse like a man who is dreaming. RUBÉN: …Mijo. RUBÉN: I have not played in front of anyone since 2210.
- JESSEThen we are very late.
- JESSEWhat do you want to play. RUBÉN: …I know a few blues.
- JESSEThat works.
[art pending]
Jesse, into the mic.
- JESSEThis next one's a blues.
- JESSERubén's calling it.
- JESSESing along if you remember any of the words.
[art pending]
Allred — montage. Rubén and Jesse trading licks. Dev anchoring. The crowd — literally singing along. Some of them only mouthing it. Some of them, for the first time in their lives, learning what a chorus is by repetition. A few of them, somehow, already knowing the words.