Jack Who? (Book 1 Draft Version)

PART TWO~CHAPTER : 40

♪♫••═════ PART TWO~CHAPTER : 40 ═════••♬ ♭

The days and nights became a blur of the bus, once in a while a plane, and arenas, stadiums, and hotels.

Sometimes after the show we slept in a hotel. Sometimes, if we had to be on the road right away, we slept in the bus and then checked into the hotel in the next city in time to clean up and make it to the next show.

I had worried over Tristan in vain. He easily took to life on the bus, playing games with whoever was awake on the game system, watching t.v., or playing on his tablet. He happily ate the junk food of the road, and spent hours watching out the window. He was the darling of the bus, and I was surprised at how easily the rest of them adjusted to him when it came to language and other considerations. The habitual cursers out of the crew had even made up alternate curse words.

Our bus normally housed Liz, and Chris when his wife was around, and the random manager or two. The rolling home had been dubbed 'Mary' because any partying stayed with the other bus.

The very back of the bus was a lounge area where the couches formed a U with two flat screens on the wall. On one of these days, I was reading on the iPad while Tristan's attention was on his game. Liz was awake in the front of the bus but the rest slept.

Jack hopped from his bunk to the floor and after padding to the bathroom came to flop down beside me. Gradually, as he checked his phone, he lay with his head in my lap. He was receiving text after text, which probably had a part in waking him.

"What's going on?" I wondered, letting my fingers slid through his hair.

"Radio show in the morning." His thumbs continued their swipes at the screen. Slowing his motions, he tilted his face to the blackout panels that I had not bothered to open. "Wait, why is Tristan up? Is it morning?"

"Um, it is two. In the afternoon."

Sheepishly, he continued to stare vaguely at his phone without acknowledging the next text.

Gently, I explained, "It is Wednesday. No show tonight. And we should be about an hour from the hotel."

"Oh. Yeah." He shot off another text then tossed aside his phone. When the next thought struck, guilty dark eyes ran over my face. "I've been asleep ten hours?"

With a smile, I touched my lips to his. "Mmh Hmm. Feel better?"

"Much." Bouncing up, he took one of the controllers, and I began to read again as he and Tristan played.

Our arrival at the hotel was low key. Our accommodations were normally on the club level floor, and this time was no exception. I never failed to be overwhelmed by the suites being larger than my home in Mississippi. In this particular hotel, our suite had a child's room with a kid sized table and chairs, a shelf of books, and electronic toys. Jack always took it all in stride, and always immediately upon entering an empty hotel room, flipped on a television.

I often wondered if the television had been to fill the silence when he was on tour on his own. Jack lingered with Tristan in his room exclaiming over each discovery, and I could hear them laughing as I fell over the bed glad to be in unmoving quarters. The second our luggage was delivered, I pilfered through it for fresh clothing eager to shower away the miles on the road. Jack offered to shower Tristan, and he must have taken a quick one as well because we all emerged with wet heads around the same time.

Dressed and blow dried, we entered the lounge exclusive to the floor and were shown to a table overlooking the city.

"Do they have pizza here?"