That night, all Jimmy could focus on was having time off. Even just a few days. He was very excited. This was the reason he couldn't get anything right. His guitar strap was digging into his shoulder, the body was smacking into his hip, and he kept messing up notes. By the end of sound check he was pissed off at himself. After putting his guitar down, he sighed heavily and pushed his hair from his face. "Are you alright?" Robert asked. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just fucking it all up today!" He said angrily, stopping off stage. Robert looked stunned at the other two. They shrugged and continued to pack their things up. Usually Robert would go after him and try to fix whatever was wrong. But he figured that Jimmy was a big boy and could deal with his own problems. Right now, Robert needed to call home. Carmen had started to be really talkative and he was excited to hear from her. "I'll be back in time for the car. Just give me a sec." He called to the guys as he jogged to his dressing room.
Bonzo and John looked at each other, confused with the other two. They seemed to be in their own little worlds most of the time. While they were obviously best friends with Jimmy, they knew very little about him at times. He was a mystery to most. He was very selective with who he told his feelings to. Sometimes Robert could get it out of him, but most of the time he kept to himself. "Jimmy's been weird lately. A couple towns back, we shared a room. And he was saying all kinds of weird stuff in his sleep." John said to Bonzo. "Yeah, he has been. I bet he's back there destroying his dressing room again. This happens every time. He must just be homesick or something. You know that we all tend to go a little stir-crazy when we've been gone too long." Bonzo shrugged. "You might be right. But he doesn't really have a family or home to miss. I mean, we all have wives and kids. But he's just... kind of on his own. I feel kind of bad for him." John said. "Well maybe that's his problem. He's so fuckin' whimsical that he's hard to connect." The two shared a laugh at Bonzo's words.
When the show was over that night, Jimmy practically skipped to his hotel room. He tore off his sweaty clothes and settled into bed. He closed his eyes and immediately fell into a deep sleep. No show to worry about, no party to attend. He was carefree tonight. His sleep was short lived, but sweet. When he woke up it had only been two-and-a-half hours. He shook the sleep from his eyes and got up. He figured he would explore the city and try to find his materials. From the noise below, it seemed pretty lively.
He set out onto the street, walking alongside the heavy traffic. He was happy that even in the bright lights of the city, people couldn't recognize him. He got a break from being Jimmy Page, guitarist of Led Zeppelin. He was just Jimmy now. Who he had always been. Just a kid from Hesston with a guitar. Now in New Haven, he was very far from England. He could hear music being played from a small bar down the block. He thought he would go there and see the local scene. When he walked through the door, the lights were dimmed and the band was in the middle of a song. They were doing a cover of Whole Lotta Love. Jimmy rolled his eyes at first, but then began to feel amused. Of course they would be playing a zeppelin song. His spirits were raised when the band began to play an original. It was quite good, especially for a new band. He recalls a lot of his early work to be shite.
He started to look into the crowd. Less than half of the audience were actually paying attention. The only people who seemed to care were the people dancing off to the side. Everyone else was looking into the bottom of a bottle or chatting someone up. He was just happy no one was asking him to sign anything. The longer he sat, the bemusement started to leave him.
Why was no one asking him to sign anything? Anytime else he went anywhere he was rushed by hundreds of people. He couldn't even walk around his own hotel floor without being mobbed. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise.
He downed his third drink of the night. As he slammed his drink on the table, he looked to his right. There was a woman, sitting and looking at him. He smiled small, then looked back to his empty glass. "Do you want another?" Her voice was sweet like a song. He looked up at her, confusion on his face. "Not many women offer me a drink." He laughed. "You look like you need another."
He nodded. She turned to the bartender and asked for another. He poured the whiskey into the glass and pushed it to Jimmy, then another for her. He and the woman locked eyes as they downed the drinks. She grimaced at the taste of the drink.
Jimmy laughed at her expression and shrugged, "Tastes fine to me." She laughed at him and scooted her chair closer to him. "I know you. You look familiar." She raised a brow. Oh god, here we go. "You probably do. Jimmy Page." He stuck his hand out. She furrowed her brows and stuck her hand out. "Very formal, Jimmy." They shared a laugh. "I'm Michelle. I figured you were him. You two look so similar." He was taken back by her down-to-earth demeanor. "On the off chance you were, I wanted to know if you were busy tonight."
"What do you have in mind?"
Michelle and Jimmy entered a house. The lights were dimmed and the smell of pot wafted through the air. The pair were greeted by a small group of people. They were sitting in a circle, smoking a joint. "Grab a pillow, come sit!" The owner of the house stood to greet the two. "It's nice to have you join us." The owner, a red-headed woman, said. Jimmy was nervous. He didn't know these people. But they didn't seem too interested in his fame, which comforted him.
"So um, what is this about? Michelle wouldn't tell me too much." His voice was small. "Winter solstice celebration. We're going to do some magic!" The guy next to the redhead said. "Yes, it's technically magic. But we're not crazy! The Winter solstice is-"
"I know what the Winter solstice is. I dabble in a little magic." Jimmy smiled. He felt quite cool. A smiled brushed the redheads face, "Perfect. So you'll know just what to do."
Jimmy was enjoying himself quite a lot. They ate a Yule log edible cake and smudged themselves with a bundle of cinnamon and pine. After the second smoke circle, it was time for readings. The redhead woman, who was named Cynthia, pulled out a deck of tarot cards. They were decorated with Egyptian sphynx's and Pharaoh's. "I think Jimmy should go first." A smile was wide on her face. He nodded, smiling equally as big. It had been awhile since he'd had one. She laid the cards out, letting him pick his card. "The Lovers and The Hermit." A looked to the redhead. Although he had been practicing magic since he was 15, he wasn't very keen on tarot meanings.
"The lovers is a signal of love to come. Whether this is self love, platonic, or romantic, keep your eyes open. While this does mean that love is on the horizon, you have to choose it. You have to nurture it. Keep your walls down and let this person in, people can only love as much as you let them. The hermit, on the other hand, is a card of major change. This card often signals a personal journey. The Hermit provides guidance. The lantern is lighting the way on this trip. Keep your ears open and listen to the universe. With these cards together, it usually means you are going to learn a lot in and from love. Whomever this person is, they're going to be a major teacher to you. Listen to them." Cynthia spoke to Jimmy, making full eye contact. He felt flushed. He could feel her words. He nodded, looking pensively at the cards. His thumb nail caressed his bottom lip as he thought.
Could this be Gwen?
As the rest of the group received their readings, Jimmy was stuck in his thoughts. It felt like every thought he'd ever had collided, buzzing around in his head. After the readings were over, Michelle turned to him. "Are you alright?" She asked. He nodded, looking into her eyes. "I'm just thinking about what she said. It's really stuck in my head." He said. "Yeah, she does that. I really like getting readings from her. She's good." Michelle laughed.
The group dwindled as people left, leaving only 5 people. It was Michelle, Jimmy, and the owners of the house: Cynthia and Nick. Michelle was laid back on the couch, reading a magazine, when Jimmy noticed the time.
He felt his nerves rising. "I'm glad you could come. I've never had a famous person in my house." Cynthia laughed, holding a pan of brownies. "Yeah, thanks for my reading. Really made me think." Jimmy said. "Oh, before I forget, are there any occult stores here? I'm needing some...materials." He looked to Cynthia. "There actually isn't. The closet one is a few miles away, unfortunately. But I might have what you're looking for. I'm a bit of a hoarder." She laughed, "What do you need?"
Jimmy followed Cynthia to a spare room. When she clicked on the light, he knew she wasn't kidding earlier. "Okay, I'm needing some candles, herbs, and a crystal." He looked at the shelves. They were neatly organized and labeled. "One pink and one white candle, some rose petals, some ginger, and a rose quartz." He said. She looked at him with knowing eyes as she looked in her supplies. "It seems to me like you're doing a love spell." She laughed when he nodded. "Just be careful. Sometimes they backfire." She said as she laid out the items.
Michelle looked at Jimmy as they reached his hotel. "I had a good time tonight." She said. "Me too." He looked into her eyes. She didn't look disappointed, like he imagined. Maybe it was enough for her to spend time with him. "Why did you invite me tonight?" He asked. "You looked lost. I thought it was worth a shot to see if you'd actually come." He nodded, turning toward his door. "If you're ever back in New Haven, you should give me a call." He turned to see her handing him a slip of paper. "I will." He said.
He walked into the lobby of the hotel. It wasn't the best, but it was pretty nice. The couches in the lobby were a nice color and the chandelier's hanging from the ceiling seemed to be real gold. The band was checked in under the name "Timothy Green". Jimmy and John kept a log of all the names they stayed under. In Chicago, they were "Scott Mckenith", and in Maine they were "Gregg Thomas". Sometimes these names were funny and the two shared a good laugh over them. It was a way to pass the time when they were bored in shitty towns.
When he reached his room, he threw himself into bed. It had been a long night. And it wasn't over yet. He sat back up and searched for a notepad. He began writing manifestations. He would put these on his makeshift altar for his spell. All he could come up with was "The one I desire has found me". He thought it should be good; that was what he wanted. He repeated this phrase as he wrote it 5 times. He laid the items out and lit the candles. After sprinkling rose petals and ginger around the candles, he plucked a hair from his head. He laid it between the candles. He held the rose quartz in his hand, his eyes closed. He imagined Gwen. Her emerald eyes and long hair. His thoughts lingered on the freckles dotting her nose. He saw her hands, lithe and manicured. He could feel them caressing him. They were soft and small. He repeated his words over and over.
Usually, when he did a spell, he could feel the energy. Tonight it was as if his power had fizzled and died completely. His eyes popped open and he sighed in frustration. The way he was feeling, he would never find Gwen. He needed real conviction. Perhaps the phrasing was wrong. He took the notecard of manifestations off the altar and crumbled it up. It landed with a soft thud in waste basket. "Love me, love me, love me..." He repeated. He felt a slight raising of energy, like a thick heat under his skin. He repeated the words again, the intensity raising. He tried once more but nothing happened. The tide had receded and traveled out of his bent frame.
He groaned and threw his weight against the altar. It shook behind him, spilling wax down the sides of the votive candles. He stood, leaned against the desk, running his thumbnail along his lips as he thought. I just want her to find me. Or I find her. I want her, I want her so badly. Maybe it's not going to work. Maybe it's not supposed to work. I will find her when the time is right. Oh, but that could take years! I just need to have her. I don't know why I feel this way, I never have before. I don't even know this woman. Or know if she's real!
He turned back to the candles and spoke once more, now imbued with an inspiration. "I long for love, I lust for connection. Please, bring her to me." His eyes were closed his eyes and chanted his phrase. He could feel the energy from the altar as the wax melted onto the desk beneath. He looked at the dried rose petals covered in ginger. He imagined being with Gwen, the images becoming more and more vivid. He finally retired to bed, laying and watching the flame on the candles. He looked, watching the flame grow taller and stronger. He could feel the power emitting from them.
This has to work. I know it will.
"Jimmy..." He heard his name being called. He opened his eyes, settling into the dark room. He heard his name again. The sound was trailing down the hall. He stood from the bed, trying to follow the sound. When he opened the bedroom door, he could see candles trailing down the hall. The flames danced as he passed them. Rose petals, salt, and cinnamon lined the hall alongside the candles. He could still hear his name. The dreamy, sensual sound filled his ears once more. He walked faster. He reached the end of the hall and saw a white door. He opened it, revealing Gwen. She turned, her smiling face greeting his. The candlelight flickered in her eyes. His reached out to greet her. She took them in his, leading him into the room. It was lit by candles, just like the rest of the house. A painting stood above a fireplace, adorned with a gold frame. A woman pressed a pink rose to her face. She touched an ivy covered stone wall. The colors of the painting called to him. They reached out of the frame and embraced him. He looked to Gwen, who was looking at the painting. "Isn't it beautiful?" She asked. Her skin was glowing in the candlelight. She was a feast for the eyes of hungry men. She could wet his lips even on the brink of death. He reached in to touch her warm skin. Just as he made contact with her, the illusion was broken. He was thrusted into consciousness. He could now see the hotel room.
He groaned, sitting up to find the altar from last night. The candles had melted down, leaving stubs of wax with a short wick. The petals were encapsulated. He peeled the wax off the desk, throwing it into the bin.
The guys were onto Toronto now. They were playing two shows at the rockpile. There were only 10 shows left and you could see it. The four men were tired. They were getting antsy to return to their families. Jimmy was excited to get back home and sleep in his own bed. To have familiar settings and solid ground. They had made a lot of memories and money and were ready for a break.
After the love spell, Jimmy was especially observant. He was searching for this love. But the results were not as he wanted them. Instead of finding Gwen, it seemed that every woman was now finding him. Looking back on the party with Cynthia, it was surprisingly refreshing. He couldn't even leave the hotel floor without being swarmed. This was not helping his frustration with being on the road.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Robert slammed the door to the car after they all piled in. "What's the matter with you?" Peter asked. "There are women lined up the block! I couldn't get through them." He sighed. "He's just mad because he thought they were for him." Bonzo jested. "How could you know they're not?" Robert asked, offended.
"Because they're for Jimmy. They've been following him all day." Jonesy said.
"Really?"
"Yeah, earlier I tried to find him because he wasn't in his hotel room. And I saw him getting chased into the elevator."
John slipped into bed after his shower. It felt good to wash the sweat from stage off. The lights get so hot. Especially when they're performing outside.
I thought Canada was supposed to be cold!
He took out his copy of On The Road. The best thing about touring was the down time. He had finished four books already. He was already halfway through this one. His next read would be The Edible Woman. He tries to buy a new book in every town they go to.
Bonzo and John had to share a room this time, which is something that bothered John. He was in bed by 11 if their show allowed him to. Bonzo was always partying. He was constantly being woken up during the night. He also had to tiptoe in the morning. If he woke up Bonzo, he would be very grumpy. He hoped that Bonzo would be in bed earlier tonight. It wasn't likely.
His focus was waning the more he read. He was very distracted by the party going on in the next room. He sighed and flipped the page. He was once again jolted from his book when he heard a scream. He went into the hall, wanting to see what happened. When he poked his head out, nothing seemed out of place. Bonzo was hanging out with Richard. He could see now that it was them who were causing a stir. Bonzo was doing some questionable things as usual. He left his room, on a search for Robert and Jimmy. Sometimes he liked to leave the hotel room and make sure everything was alright. He worried for them. There have been times that they got themselves into trouble.
Robert was easy to locate. He was in his room with a girl. Jonesy didn't see him, but he did hear him. He had to travel the long way to find Jimmy. First he checked the room Bonzo and Richard were partying in. He wasn't in there, but he did find some more debauchery. He went down to the lobby, wondering if he wanted some solitude. His room was, after all, being used by Robert. As he walked down the stairs, he could hear screaming. When he reached the front room, he found the source of the noise. Jimmy was running toward him, a group of women trailing him. A guttural laugh came from Jonesy's mouth. The mysterious guitarist was reaping the consequences of his talent and fame. As much as it annoyed him that people overlooked him, Jonesy was happy he didn't have to deal with this. The security guard stepped in before the girls could follow Jimmy into the elevator.
Jonesy followed him into the elevator, standing next to him. "Are you alright?" He laughed. Jimmy glared at him before cracking a smile. "That was insane! I was just having a walk outside and this girl comes up to me and asks if I'm Jimmy Page. I signed something for her, and then all of them start coming after me. I don't even know how it happened." He was out of breath and grasping his chest. This made John laughed even more. "I guess that means we're famous." This made Jimmy laugh. Which made John laugh. They had a good relationship, they had known each other the longest. John remembered when Jimmy was "Lil Jim" and was only a session guitarist. Now he's being mobbed by girls.
If there was one person John enjoyed being around, it was Jimmy. He was actually really glad when he had reached out about joining the band. Especially now that they were starting to get more traction.
"That's hilarious! He got chased? Poor chap." Bonzo chuckled.
It got quiet after that, only interrupted by Robert. "I'm so tired. I just want to be home." He sighed, slumping into his seat. "Me too. I feel like rubbish," John rubbed his temples. "I've got a bloody headache." He added. Peter looked at the other two guys, who were nodding. "I'm sorry, guys. I know you're tired but you're doing a great job!" He smiled at them, hoping this would lift their spirits. It didn't.
Jimmy's head spun as he walked back to his room. This started when they got here. Maybe it was the women in Toronto. It's like they can smell something on him. A thought crept into his mind. Perhaps the spell had worked. Well, worked in some sense. Not in the way he wanted. He rubbed his thumb nail on his lip, deep in thought. He sighed and sat back in bed. He pulled a book into his hands. This particular book was over candlelight spells. He was trying to work out what he'd done. If he hadn't met Gwen, but instead got mauled by women, it had to of not worked.