Traveller by L.W. Samuelson (reading comprehension books .txt) 📖

he can contribute anything.”
“A friend of Tim’s is a friend of mine. I love the violin,” said Traveller.
Derek didn’t join in until the practice progressed. When he felt comfortable, he would listen to a song and come in after he had the tune. Traveller immediately fell in love with the sound and his playing.
When practice ended, Jesse set a small cooler in the middle of the floor. “Let’s have a beer and talk,” he said taking one out and popping it open.
“Boni, bon, bon,” Traveller said pulling one from its plastic ring then pulling the tab off.
“Did you get some days off?” Tim asked as he joined them.
“Yes, my boss wasn’t happy, but he looked at the delivery schedule and it’s a slack week,” Traveller answered.
“We’ll leave the Saturday afternoon after the concert,” said Jesse. “I can’t wait.”

On the night of their first gig, Traveller came out dressed in an extremely baggy beige suit. He wore tennis shoes with his hair slicked back. The stage remained empty as he sang while dancing with a lamp replete with a lamp shade the color of his suit.
He began, “Is this really my first concert? My God! How did I get here? Did I fall from the stars or glide in from the heavens?”
At this point in his song Lori came in, picked up her bass guitar and started playing. “And the humans I find, are they really so kind?”
Tim entered next joining in with his keyboard as Traveller sang, “I came from the heavens to get away. I can’t get back so I’m here to stay. Yeah, I’m here to stay.”
Jesse climbed up from the back of the stage. The spot light caught him at the same time as Traveller intensified his voice in a driving rhythm, “Watch out people, don’t know what you’ve done. A master race gonna ruin your fun!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are the Benwarian Blues Band, here to give it back to you, the fun that is,” Traveller said with the crowd screaming. “But watch out, all hell’s going to break loose.”
When the band launched into the Door’s version of “Gloria,” The crowd went wild. They sang and clapped their hands, moved with the rhythm.
The crowd cheered long after the song ended. “Please, please. I have another song. A slow song by the Beatles.”
After the audience quieted, Traveller plucked “Yesterday” on his guitar before singing, “Yesterday when I was young. So many different songs were waiting to be sung . . .”
Traveller danced and weaved using wigs and hats to change his persona as he performed the Benwarian Blues Band repertoire of music. The students listening were so captivated by his talent that they quieted with awe. No one danced, no one even thought about it. They simply sat and marveled.
Willy watched with the rest of them. He had arrived late so he hadn’t seen the introductions under the lights, but the lead singer seemed familiar for some reason. The spotlight stayed on him, primarily, so he wasn’t able to identify the rest of his friends.
It wasn’t until the end that it dawned on him. These words filled the Minidome, “Willy shot the ball, Willy shot the ball, Willy shot the ball , watch the other team fall. The crowd was screamin’ cause he played like a demon. Go Willy go, go Willy go, go Willy go, go, go, go.”
“Get out of the way, here he comes. He’ll bowl you over onto your bums. He’ll stuff the ball into the hoop as he leads the way for his troops. Go, go, go, go Willy. Go Willy go. This Big Sky Champ, is a training camp.”
As hard as he tried, Willy couldn’t hide from the spotlight that searched the crowd. Man, stupid alien, he thought with the crowd screaming. Could there be a more corny song?
The band performed two more songs after Willy’s. Finally, Traveller said, “You’ve been a great audience. We hope to see you ag…”
Shouts of encore, encore drowned him out. People stood giving him an ovation. Those with lighters or matches held up flames and yelled more, more. When the lights went up, people stomped their feet so hard that it sounded like rumbling thunder.
Traveller nodded at the light technician who darkened the dome then spotlighted Traveller. “One more,” he said prompting another deafening roar from his instant fans.
“Everyone up and dance. One o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock rock . . . We gonna rock around the clock tonight.” When the song ended Traveller quickly left the stage while several volunteers dismantled the band’s gear to make way for the following set.
Just off stage, the singer for the next band jumped in Traveller’s face and asked, “How in the hell are we going to follow that?”
At the same time someone grabbed his elbow. “Here’s my card. I’m the owner of the Fifth Amendment. Give me a call if you want a steady gig. My name is Sam Jenkins,” he said shaking hands.
Lori had just come up behind Traveller. “What kind of money are we talking about?”
“Are you his agent?” Sam asked.
Lori looked at Traveller. When he nodded, she said, “Yes.”
“A hundred dollars a night to start. If the crowds are big enough, I’ll bump it up to a hundred-fifty.”
“He works swing shift during the week,” Lori said.
“He can play on Saturday night only or maybe I can make arrangements with his boss for Friday. Anyway, give me a call if you’re interested,” Sam said before disappearing into the crowd.

Chapter 33 - Return to Jim Sage Mountain

The next day at noon, Jesse showed up at his sister’s in a yellow and white International four-wheel drive Scout that he had borrowed from his dad. Willy was riding shotgun. The back was loaded with sleeping bags, a tent, groceries, and a couple cases of beer in a separate cooler.
They loaded the sleeping bag Traveller had borrowed from Lori along with her acoustic guitar and a duffel bag of clothes. Tim pulled up just as they were finishing. Within minutes the Scout was loaded to the gills with everyone’s stuff.
“Yahoo! This is going to be fun!” Jesse enthused backing out of Lori‘s parking spot and then peeling out.
“Yeah, better not be no cougar waitin’ for us,” Willy countered.
“Why Willy? We’ll just let him eat you. I hear cougars like dark meat,” Jesse teased.
“Honkie mo’fo’, I’ll give you some dark meat, I feed y’all a five-fingered knuckle sandwich y’all keep givin’ me crap.”
“Please not while he’s driving,” Traveller said. “I don’t think my cougar friend will bother us this time. You did bring a gun, didn’t you Jesse?”
“Got a .357 magnum in my backpack,” he answered.
“Oh Lord, dat’s all I need, a ride with an angry white man and a .357 magnum,” Willy complained.
“Don’t worry Willy. I won’t shoot you unless you try to make me eat that knuckle sandwich, never did like dark meat.”
“You two sound like a married couple the way you’re fightin’ all the time,” Tim said.
“I like da girls not some ugly ol’ white honkie with buck teeth,” Willy countered.
“Kiss me Willy,” Jesse said smiling.
They bantered back and forth until Jesse had put Pocatello behind them. When the barbs had been exhausted, a silence ensued. After a while, Willy reminisced, “Man that was some concert you guys put on . . .”
Once Willy started it, they shared memories until they exited the freeway ninety miles later and headed south. “You’re not going to stop and say hello to your parents?” Tim asked Jesse.
“Yeah right. We’ll stop so my mom can check the cooler and take our beer,” Jesse answered. He turned to Tim, “Break out the bean dip and Fritos, let’s have a snack.”
For the rest of the ride, Tim kept Jesse supplied with Fritos mounded with refrieds.

The sun rode low on the sky by the time they made it to the Jim Sage turn off. A warmer than average spring coupled with the wind had left the mountain road into the camp dry. Soon they were bouncing their way to the hills that sat before Jim Sage Mountain like the toes of a giant.
“Man, I wonder if that old rattlesnake be sleepin’?” Willy said.
“He had better be, I hate snakes,” Tim said.
“Don’t they get all grouchy and strike at anything in the springtime?” asked Jesse.
“Fangs likes me. He’s not going to be grouchy. In fact, I can’t wait to have him around my neck. I love the way he feels, dry yet slimy. When he moves, it’s like getting a massage,” Traveller said defending his serpentine friend.
Willy eyes grew wide as he thought about having a snake slithering around his neck. “Crazy alien. You were probably playin’ tag with that cougar when he clawed you all up! I can hear it now. Here kitty, come sharpen your claws on me so I can get some stupid college kids to carry my lead butt down the mountain. I know y’all did it to get some decent black blood in ya’.”
“That’s where I picked up the blues Willy. Earth became a lot sadder for me once I became a part of it. I’m grounded now and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Traveller replied.
Jesse pulled into to the grassy parking area. “Tim and I will set up the tent. You two gather firewood,” he said.

Dusk descended bringing subdued lighting with a red-silhouetted west just as the boys finished setting up camp. “Oh my God!” Jesse exclaimed.
“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.
“You’ll never believe it! It’s beer thirty. My favorite time of the day,” said Jesse. He opened beers for everyone except Willy. “Do you want one?”
“Shoot no, I get caught drinkin’ I’ll be off the team again, this time for good,” Willy said.
“No one here will ever say anything,” Jesse tempted.
“Won’t have to. I be saying it all to myself,” Willy said. “You guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll cook us some hotdogs later. Right now I’ll just have me some soady pop.” Willy pulled a coke from the cooler, popped the tab and drank.
Tim laid some larger sticks over the kindling in the fire pit. He put the empty box from the beer case underneath some more sticks then held a lighter under the frayed edges of cardboard causing them to flare up. Soon, lively flames sprouted and spread into a bright, dancing fire.
“That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” said Willy.
“I’ll drink to that,” Traveller agreed raising his beer to the fire before talking a drink.
Tim sat back down on one of the logs they had placed by the pit and said, “Nothing like a nice warm fire.” He took a drink of beer also, turning when he heard the crumpling of metal behind him.
Jesse belched then threw an empty can into the recycle box and said, “Dang, I must have drank that one too fast. Oh well, better have another.” Jesse rummaged in the back of the Scout returning to the fire with a joint of marijuana. He sat down on a log, lit it, and took a hit.
“Here man,” he said handing it to Traveller who passed it to Tim with out smoking any. Tim took a hit then handed it back to Jesse who took another hit. Jesse handed it to Tim who took a hit and then the eternal pot smoking progression started. Jesse took a hit, Tim took a hit, Jesse took a hit, and Tim took a hit. Jesse looked at Tim and started laughing halfway through the joint. Tim didn’t know why he was laughing,