I wish I’d brought my dad, but he’s always with Irene and the boy now. It’s his guitar anyway. “Your inheritance,” he said when he handed it to me on my sixteenth birthday. “Music is in your blood, Ape.” I know really he forgot it was my birthday, but I took it just the same. I should have told him about this. Made him drive me. When it’s my turn to go on stage he could whistle with his fingers in his mouth like he used to at my elementary school plays. But I’m sure the boy is busy wetting the bed or picking his nose and Dad and Irene have to be there to watch.

People applaud again. That guy walks off stage. I clap because he’s leaving, and I wonder if that’s why everyone else is clapping too.

Jim turns to me and says, “This is Wisteria and her life partner Efrem.” He leans toward Mother Nature and King Neptune and says, “April,” pointing at me. They wave and I wave back. Wisteria’s cheeks dimple like crab apples when she smiles, and Efrem’s eyes are crinkly and kind.

Before anyone can say anything else, this skinny scarecrow man in a worn out brown fedora gets on stage and reads off the clipboard. His voice is low and whispery. “Next up, Luke Barstoldt from Cheektowaga is here to sing Sweet Baby James, by James Taylor, and Teach Your Children, by Crosby, Stills and Nash, or was that when they were Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, I can never remember.” He shifts around awkwardly, holding his hands out at his sides like a bad stand-up comedian. “Geez, isn’t anyone playing originals?” He looks at the audience like he’s waiting for a response, but everyone is dead silent. “Well, in any case, let’s give it up for Luke.”

I am proud while we all applaud, because I wrote both the songs I’m going to play—one about losing my virginity to Matty, and the other about my father and Irene and the boy—but Luke Barstoldt quickly snuffs out my smug when he starts playing and it sounds like James Taylor himself has blessed the audience with his presence. He has long skeleton hands and his fingers move fast even though everything else about him is slow and soulful.

Wisteria and Efrem are next. They argue with the scarecrow man about their song choice. Scarecrow says because of its length, Canadian Railroad Trilogy should count as both their songs, but they say they should get to play two separate songs. I think they’re all joking, but Efrem gets red-faced. He covers the microphone with his hand and mutters something to Scarecrow. Scarecrow concedes, throwing his arms in the air and walking off stage without introducing them.