Mike, who usually enjoyed being in all conversations, saw his moment to interject. “Were you at that show? I remember hearing about it, it was tragic but mysterious. That’s the last show Jamus gave. What I wouldn’t give to be able to play the guitar like him.” Everyone was nodding in agreement, for the accomplishments of Jamus were legendary.
”So Jamus left directly after that show, along with three others, in a car heading for a tour boat. While out on the boat a storm brewed up and that’s the last anyone saw of them. They vanished into thin air. Their car was found where it was left in the parking lot, but the boat and bodies, including Jamus’s were never found. All were presumed dead.” Mike paused dramatically.
”Come on guys, you know Jamus planned the whole thing and is living in Paris under a different name and identity,” said an eavesdropping member of the light crew.
“He’s working at a McDonald’s in Buffalo,” Ginger added sarcastically.
A girl with multiple earrings and body piercings added authoritatively. “I have all his CD’s and bootlegs. No, he got tired of the hectic pace and western civilization, you know the dog-eat-dog world of staying on top, and secretly stole away on a boat. He’s Asian-bound, to study Eastern philosophy and music to fulfill his spirit.”
“I have some news for you my friends,” Gigs piped up. “I saw him not six months ago in a roadside motel/bar in Manitoba.“
“Sure you did.” Mike nodded in disbelief. “Did you get him to autograph a picture for you?”
“That’s about all I can take.” remarked Ginger, as he slowly stood up, his thin five foot eight frame swaying a little now from the fatigue that was taking over from the adrenaline rush of the show. Simultaneously everyone was standing saying goodbyes and collectively agreeing it was time to leave.