After that, Luke and Emmett often got together when they were alone at night. Emmett figured Luke's crush wouldn't last forever so he might as well enjoy it while it continued. Even when he brought a woman back to the hotel with him, Emmett would often find himself wondering what Luke was up to. He had the impression Luke was much more selective than him in bringing back guests.
Overall, Emmett enjoyed the whole tour even more than the previous one. He was hugely proud of the band onstage – this was the tightest, hardest working group of musicians he'd ever played with. Even better, while of course he loved Luke best, he was fond of everyone he worked with, from band mates to crew and roadies.
Between shows, Emmett worked with Gordon, and then with Eddie as well, to develop his voice and take on more backup vocals and harmonies. He enjoyed the singing, and Luke seemed especially pleased, calling his voice surprisingly sweet and even giving him a couple of short solos. But there were limits to what Emmett could take on while still leaving enough lung capacity for his trumpet and harp, and he didn't think Luke was fully satisfied.
On many days Emmett almost felt sorry for Luke, who constantly had so much to deal with. He seemed to like being in control, at least at first, but was obviously overwhelmed at times. Emmett recognized the signs of stress when Luke grew short-tempered and snappish with the team, or sometimes just withdrawn. But no matter how high the pressure, Luke rarely spoke sharply to him.
And every night or two, the band lit up the stage. Everything would be forgotten in those three or four hours except the pure joy of performing. Luke commanded these large rooms and huge crowds just as effectively as he did the tiny dive bars back in Philly. Not quite thirty yet, he still had his boyish charm but now he leavened it with moments of dramatic power. Emmett never got over his amazement at the deep, old man's voice that would suddenly emanate from his young friend, as though an ancient soul inhabited the youthful body.
With Eddie on his other side, Luke now had two focal points for his chaotic onstage energy, though Eddie tended to focus more on his guitar and vocals than responding to Luke. Emmett, on the other hand, still loved letting Luke bounce off him in every possible way. By unspoken agreement, the two of them never talked about or planned their onstage antics, trusting to the energy of the moment for maximum spontaneity.
Still, as the tour went on they found themselves returning to certain poses that seemed particularly iconic – standing side by side at the edge of the stage, holding their instruments triumphantly aloft, during one of the anthems; or locking gazes and swaying together at centre stage when Luke's guitar accompanied Emmett's harp refrain during a slow, haunting number. Emmett understood that Luke used these moments for their symbolic power, to communicate a message or heighten the mythology of their partnership, and he had no objection. Whatever the symbolism might mean, it seemed truthful to him.
Of course, what the audience didn't see were the private moments that offset those public displays – the celebratory spray of water Luke would direct at Emmett when he cooled himself off; his quick squeeze as he passed Emmett while running across the stage; the way he grabbed Emmett's hand in the dark between songs.
Sometimes Emmett wondered if Luke had mixed up the private and the public the first time they kissed each other onstage. It was at the end of a show, during their final encore song – “Flaming Up”, an early rocker that never failed to bring the house down – during which Luke traditionally used an extended bridge to introduce the band. He always saved Emmett for last, announcing him as “Emmett The Mountain Evans!” while Emmett took a moment to preen for the audience. Then the band would pick up the song again, and Luke and Emmett would circle each other like prowling panthers during the instrumental break before putting their heads together at the mic to shout out a vocal. That night was just like every other except that as they faced each other across the mic stand, Luke leaned over another couple of inches and impetuously kissed Emmett's lips.
Emmett wasn't sure anyone in the audience even caught the tiny moment. Luke smirked at his raised eyebrows as though it were just another private gesture, and neither of them spoke about it afterward. But from then on, every night during the “Flaming Up” encore, Luke and Emmett shared that fleeting kiss in front of a thousand fans.
The set-up on this tour was much better than the last one. The venues were bigger and properly ventilated, the stages higher, security more effective, so at first Emmett worried less. But he still kept a close eye on Luke while they played, and it wasn't only to catch cues. As the shows grew longer he saw signs of Luke pushing himself past his limits. Once or twice, toward the end of a show, Luke stumbled slightly and Emmett caught him, holding on until Luke regained his breath and nodded his ability to continue. The band added in a short break before the final encore, but Luke couldn't be persuaded to stay off stage for more than a few minutes. As the final song ended Luke would lift his guitar to the crowd and sometimes fall against Emmett's chest, where Emmett would hold him until he felt Luke's heartbeat drop to a normal rhythm.
No one was surprised when it finally happened, on a hot August night at an outdoor show in Tulsa. Local operators had set up fans that were entirely ineffective, and the crowd, pressed close to the stage, blocked any hope of a breeze. During the band's final break they all begged Luke to skip the encore or at least cut it short, but he wouldn't hear of it. And just as the final song's outro reached its climax, as Luke reached for his guitar to lift it up, his head suddenly fell back and a second later he crumpled to the stage floor.
Emmett dropped his trumpet and lunged when he saw Luke's eyes roll back, but didn't quite reach him in time. Fortunately, José had the sense to cut the lights instantly so the fans didn't know exactly what happened and a potential riot was avoided. Emmett had scooped Luke into his arms and carried him backstage before he remembered the old first aid instruction not to move an unconscious person.
Jerry ran over to meet them, shouting at someone to call an ambulance. He pulled Emmett, still carrying Luke, out to the back loading dock, where Mark brought out water and people debated the wisdom of throwing it on Luke while they waited. Emmett hardly heard the discussion around him; he kept his eyes fixed on Luke's pale face, which meant he saw the eyelids quiver and open before the others did.
By the time the ambulance arrived Luke was awake and embarrassed, telling everyone he was fine and Em could put him down now. Of course no one listened, and he was raced to the nearest hospital where a bored-looking doctor diagnosed him with fatigue and heat exhaustion. They kept him in for observation for three nights, and Jerry cancelled the band's shows for the next two weeks.
Naturally Luke was furious when he heard that, and after some heated negotiations from his hospital bed, during which Emmett sat beside him silently holding his hand, persuaded Jerry to reinstate the last couple of dates in the second week.
After his release, Jerry, Eddie and Emmett collectively met with Luke to insist on a few changes – hard caps on the overall concert length, encores cut in half, and no outdoor or indoor shows anywhere with a temperature above 85 degrees. Luke resentfully agreed.
“You know you didn't have to side with them,” he grumbled afterward. “I thought you'd have my back.”
“I do have your back,” Emmett answered, good-natured now that he'd won. “That's why I sided with them.”
“I can't believe you want me to cut back on how long we play. I owe it to the fans to stay up there as long as I can.”
Emmett tried not to roll his eyes. “Why do you think that?”
Luke struggled for words to explain himself. “It's – it's like my service to them. It's how I pay them back for letting me do this every night, letting me live my life this way.”
This time Emmett’s glance was more admiring. “That's a nice idea. But you don't pay anyone back by giving yourself heatstroke.”
“Ain't like that's gonna happen again.”
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“It might not if you put a little more meat on your bones.”
“What are you saying, I need to eat more?”
“Sure, but why not also come with me to the gym? You could build up some muscle strength and endurance, maybe that would help.”
Luke brightened. “Really? You gonna show me what to do?”
“Sure.”
Emmett wasn't much of a trainer but he taught Luke some basic routines that Luke enthusiastically adopted, and they started going to the gym together whenever they had the chance.
***
The tour resumed and people stopped treating Luke like an invalid eventually. The restrictions on his performances infuriated him, but he more or less kept his word, and there were no further incidents. Emmett spoke privately to Jerry about hiring someone with a medical background in the crew, just in case. For a long time, he found it hard to relax onstage and resume his old antics with Luke.
“Stop watching me like that,” Luke scowled after a show, sounding genuinely annoyed with Emmett for the first time in a long while.
“It's hard to stop once you've seen someone pass out,” Emmett said defensively.
“You worry too much. I follow the rules, I been workin' out. I don't know what else you guys want.”
They'd always reached for each other at the end of a performance, but now Emmett took to dropping his instrument and wrapping Luke in his arms the moment the final note was played. It soon became another of their iconic poses, Luke waving farewell to the crowd from within the safety of Emmett's arms at the end of the night. Despite his complaints about other changes, Luke never objected to this one.
With the new protocols, Luke did seem less burnt out at the end of their shows, but other frustrations – especially the ongoing legal battles and his inability to record anything – kept him short-tempered and on edge. He spent even more time holed up in his own hotel room now, working on new material, and less hanging out with the guys, rarely joining them even for meals. When he emerged for sound-checks he dealt with technical issues and questions tersely, no longer looking like he enjoyed directing the whole production. Once or twice, Emmett tried to speak to him about delegating a few responsibilities, but Luke wasn't receptive. The only time Emmett could coax a few laughs from him was when they joined each other in bed.
Usually, one of them phoned the other, or slipped a note under their door if the call wasn't answered, when they wanted company, so Emmett didn't expect to see Luke in person when he got a knock on his hotel room door right after a show.
“Hey, man, I didn't know you were coming over,” he said in surprise.
Luke didn't smile. “You alone?” He glanced around quickly and came into the room without waiting for an invitation.
Emmett wasn't sure what to think. He closed the door behind Luke and stood in front of it. “Something wrong?”
“I think somethin’s wrong with me.” Luke paced across the floor. “Can I just hang out for a bit? I guess you ain't ready to sleep yet.”
“Sure.” Emmett moved up behind Luke and laid his hands on Luke's shoulders, which usually helped to settle him. In an instant Luke turned and dropped his head on Emmett's chest, so Emmett wrapped him in his arms and held him for a few moments. When they broke apart, Emmett took Luke's elbow and steered him over to the bed.
“C'mon,” he said quietly. “Tell me what's going on.”
“Nothin' really.” The quick tears had come to Luke's eyes again, but he ignored them, kicking off his shoes so he could lay back beside Emmett on the bed. “Just a stupid fight with Ray.” He half-laughed as he said it, as though it sounded absurd even to him.
“With Ray? What happened?”
Luke seemed calmer now; a bit embarrassed, if anything. “Y'know we been having trouble with the piano audio lately, right? It keeps gettin’ lost in the mix.”
Emmett nodded. “Wasn't there some feedback tonight – in 'Blue Steel', I think?”
“Yeah, there was. Cause at sound-check today I told Ray to hike it up way too far.”
“Oh, yeah, that'll do it. So, wait…you had a fight because he did what you told him to?”
“Listen, man.” Luke turned toward him, sudden heat in his voice. “I ain't blaming him for that.”
Emmett sat up, taken aback. “I don't get it. Why did you fight, then?”
“Because he didn't tell me. I asked him about it after the show and he said anything that high would cause feedback. I mean, he knew what would happen and he didn't say nothing.”
“Oh…well, sure, that's his job, course he knew. But why didn't he tell you?”
“That's it. That's what I want to know. When I asked him he just said he didn't want to argue with me.”
Emmett understood then. He opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say, but he saw both sides immediately – Ray's reluctance to correct a sharp-tempered, volatile employer, and Luke's sense of betrayal at being let down by a friend.
“I mean,” Luke went on, as though he heard Emmett's thoughts, “Ray's, like, one of my oldest friends. Why wouldn't he just tell me I was full of shit?”
“Well…sometimes it's hard to argue with the boss.”
“That's how it's always been though. He never had trouble with it before.”
Emmett hesitated. Did Luke not realize how much he'd changed?
“The whole reason I work with my friends is so they'll tell me the truth. I don't wanna be surrounded with guys that only tell me what I want to hear.”
“Maybe you should tell him that.” Emmett saw the familiar sullen resistance in Luke's eyes. “Look, you want me to talk to him tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
Emmett patted Luke's leg and got up. He felt Luke's eyes on him as he moved around the room, getting ready for bed.
“You wouldn't do that, would you Em?” Luke asked. “Humour me like that?”
“No.” Privately, Emmett thought there might be scenarios where he needed to, but not in the same way that Ray did.
“So how come…”
Emmett paused, watching Luke and wondering what conclusion he'd eventually reach.
“Do I get away with too much these days? Am I so…hard to deal with?”
“You…have your days.” Emmett sat on the side of the bed and put an arm around Luke's shoulders to take the edge off his words. “Let's get in.”
Luke stood up to undress, still pondering. “You know I love having all this control nowadays,” he said slowly. “But sometimes I wonder if bein’ in charge ain't so good for me.” He looked at Emmett. “You know what I mean?”
“Not exactly.” Emmett climbed under the covers. Sometimes he wondered if Luke did too much thinking. “C'mon, man.”
Luke laughed as Emmett effortlessly lifted him and flipped him over to the other side of the bed. He landed on his back, a bit breathless, and Emmett leaned over top of him, pinning his hands down beside his head and kissing him.
“You're not in control of me,” Emmett said.
Luke lay still below him, and looked up into his face. “That's how I like it.”
***
In the morning Emmett was a bit surprised to find the bed empty beside him. He checked the time – 8:45, early for Luke to be up and out – and found a scrawled note on his night table: See you at brekfast. L
When he got down to the hotel restaurant and saw Luke and Ray laughing together over empty plates and coffee cups, he understood.
***
The extended tour followed winding, random routes based on where Jerry could scare up gigs. Every time they got close to the northeast, Emmett would ask Clarissa to bring the boys to meet them somewhere. He still wasn't rich – his income from the tour wasn't that much more than he’d made as a counsellor – but he currently had no expenses; everything was covered for him, and he'd even sublet his Philadelphia apartment to his sister. So he could afford to be generous with plane or train tickets, and the kids had been able to join him a few times. Everyone would make a fuss over them at the hotel – especially Luke, who always cheered up when they were around – and later Clarissa would bring them to the venue so they could watch Emmett play from backstage. The kids were duly impressed with their father's job, and Clarissa seemed a lot more even-tempered with him now.
Emmett had also managed to get in a visit with his folks in Floyd during the original tour. Near the end of the extension, as the schedule brought them back toward Virginia again, he made plans for another visit, and asked Clarissa to meet him there with the kids.
“Can I come?” Luke asked out of the blue.
They were eating breakfast at the hotel restaurant, and Emmett stopped with a forkful of scrambled eggs half-way to his mouth. “Come where?”
“To visit your folks.”
“Why do you want to visit my folks?”
“Well, the boys are gonna be there too, right? It'll be fun to see all of them.”
It was hard to believe Luke was serious. Emmett swallowed the eggs, shrugged, and decided to call his bluff. “Okay with me. I'll let them know to make up another bed.”
“I'll stay at a hotel,” Luke said quickly, and by the next day he'd booked one. Emmett reminded himself not to underestimate him.
A week later the two of them rented a car and drove an hour out of Roanoke to the small house Emmett grew up in. The visit felt surreal to him, like a clash of two different worlds, but it worked. By this time Robbie and Walt adored Uncle Luke, and even Clarissa seemed less brittle around him. After the kids were in bed and Clarissa had headed downtown for a night out, Emmett sat with his mama in the kitchen and watched Luke talk about crops and cars and the price of gas with his father and grandma out on the porch. By the time he left, his pop was making plans to take Luke fishing, and his mother looked slightly baffled but as close to happy as he'd seen her since his divorce.
“Why'd you come, really?” Emmett asked Luke as they drove back to join the band, late the next day.
Luke gave a smile and a shrug, his hands on the wheel. “I wanted to meet your family.”
“C'mon, for real.”
“For real, I wanted to meet them. And…I dunno. I want them to know who you work with. Like, I ain't some rock and roll hoodlum leading their son astray.”
Emmett laughed and squeezed Luke's thigh. “Maybe you are leading me astray though.”
The twilight hills and shadowy trees of Emmett's youth slipped behind them outside the car windows. Luke put his hand on top of Emmett's and they found their way back to the band in peaceful silence.
***
In the end they toured for another two and half years, until all the lawsuits were settled in mid-1979. By the time they wrapped up, Emmett could hardly remember any other way of living.