![]() Into the routine they’ve perfected since high school, a bantering how-was-your-day patter. Great smile, straw blonde hair, good legs, enough to chase the kid from Steve’s thoughts. Steve sees Helen replace the kid and pause to hold the railing as she steps down three stairs. He carries an Army duffel bag and a trumpet case. His light brown hair is a military crew cut. He wears slacks, a sharp sports jacket, a white shirt, a tie, mirror-polished shoes. The kid stops, framed in the doorway between the lounge and lobby. Steve feels down because the band still sounds off to him, the bandleader is moody,Īnd Steve has conflicted thoughts about his relationship with Helen. Steve McClint nurses a beer in the Forest Hotel lounge while he waits for Helen Hornell when the kid comes in. He can’t remember ever feeling he was home. What’s wrong with you? Isn’t there another way to Buffalo? Did you have to drive past Painted Bridge? Don’t worry, Maggie, I’m not home, just a ghost passing through. He slumps, engine idling, eyes closed, and waits for his chest to stop pounding. A block away a hotel sign blazes five floors above the street.įorest Hotel. He turns onto Alfalfa Avenue, drawn by restaurant and bar lights, and eases to the curb past a bus stop. He accelerates, through Oak Falls, West Oak Falls, Bandireo, but slows in Setonsville. He cranks the window down, grateful for the wind roar muffling her scream. If he stopped there he might glimpse Maggie Chance behind the bar through Storefronts and bunched row houses showing years of neglect, the sign above the bar faded by years of dirt and bad weather. Urge to turn right, as he pictures the sharp curve onto Bridge Street, the mile-long incline that flattens and narrows to one lane across the covered wooden bridge. A mile later he crosses the Axton County line, shoulders and neck knotted, staring at the dusk shrouded yellow line. Notes on paper jammed into his Armyĭuffel, title scrawled across the top sheet, on a whim he can’t explain. Radio sounds clash with music in his head, culled from hours hunched over a piano. Radio on, volume up to stay alert ĭial twisting until he finds jazz, twisting again when the station fades. He drives nonstop except for gas, coffee, and restroom breaks, due northwest through Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New York State. He leaves the post for the last time and drives as if the Army’s chasing him because they changed The Fifties are half gone and Brad Chance is in a hurry after three years of self-imposed exile. Maggie’s voice echoes: Don’t come back here, don’t ever come back! Years later, when he returns on a whim for the third time, he realizes he must face his past, his demons, and the friends and lovers he’s hurt, and try to salvage what’s left of his reputation and his life. A death in a car crash, for which he shares the blame, devastates him and drives him from the town again. Relationships with three women and old enemies complicate his renewed dedication to his music. Still haunted by his past, he continues to probe it for answers. Returning to the town where he started, he tries to rebuild his life but falls into his old habit of hurting the people who care for him. Once again he builds a solid reputation, but because of his naivete and betrayal by those he trusts most, his life spirals downward into a haze of drugs and wasted talent. He leaves for a large city to work with another band. Just when his new friendships and a love interest relax his defenses, a revenge fire set by a rival at the club where he works, and a close encounter with his past change his life. As his reputation grows, he’s torn between seeking success and having his past exposed. Despite the danger of discovery, he settles near his hometown and auditions for a local band. Discharged from the peacetime Army, Brad Chance wants fame as a jazz musician and an escape from his past.
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