Terror On Tour Chapter 2

Terror On Tour

Chapter 2

Who would do that? I blurted out.

We don’t know, Dylan remarked. We just got a call from the airlines confirming our cancellation. The fact that we cancelled at the last minute we also lose our deposit. And it was huge.

They were able to find some passengers to take our seats and there are no more flights out of Toronto till day after tomorrow, Corey added. Unless we fly out of New York or other big city, but we can’t afford tickets now. All our money’s tied up in the tour, he added, running his hands through his spiky hair in frustration, flattening it.

Look, sit down, I said, getting up. I’ll order for you guys and we’ll talk about it. OK. What’s everyone want?

I returned with their meals and they dug in hungrily. Once they were done I put in a call to Canning but he wasn’t available. I remembered his date with his daughter. I left a message and told him of the recent development and asked if he could find out from the airline who cancelled the flights.

Then I called Dad but again got voicemail. I left a similar message for him to call me back once he was back from the movie with Kimmy.

So what are we going to do? Nate said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. Thanks by the way, Justin, he added. For this meal.  You’re a real bud.

I nodded. No problem. I can afford seconds but I have to draw the line at thirds. That OK?

He nodded and smiled. I’ll take you up on seconds, though.

As for what to do, I have an idea, I went on. I’m waiting for Dad to get back to me. But I might be able to get you guys a flight to New York. He’s leaving for New York in the morning on one of his very rich clients private jets that is currently at Port Salser Airport. Can you arrange a flight from New York to London tomorrow morning?, I said turning to Dylan.

I’ll get right on that, he remarked, pulling out his cell phone.

Once the band were finished eating, I saw Dad and Kimmy along with Canning and his daughter Michaela enter the restaurant. The movie must have been over. They ordered then went to a table, but Dad came over when he spotted me. I got your voicemail, Justin. That’s bad news about the flights. But I can take this motley crew to New York like you asked. My flight leaves at 4 am and you’re all welcome to tag along. I think there’s enough room for all your equipment, he added with a grin.

We really appreciate that, Mr. Macdonald, Corey said. How can we ever repay you?

You’re Justin’s friends, you don’t need to repay me. Just do well on this tour, OK?

Teresa nodded, tears in her eyes. Nate looked up from his second cheeseburger and nodded thanks as well. Sam did likewise.

Dad left and went to rejoin Canning and the girls.

Dylan returned from making his call to the airport in New York. I booked us seats on a flight at 8 am tomorrow. We’ll get to London just in time to meet with our record company. It’ll be tight but we can make it. I paid with the band’s credit card, but it’s maxed out now.

That’s awesome about the flight, I remarked. We’ll deal with the credit card later. We’d better get home and get some sleep. Dad’s flight leaves at 4 and we need to have the plane loaded by then.

Everyone nodded. Then we left. The group stopped by Dad’s table to thank him again. See you all at 3 at Port Salser airport, he remarked.

We were home by 9 pm. I quickly packed then tried to sleep but it was nearly impossible. I finally got up at 1 am and showered and dressed in a black button up shirt and black shorts, and grabbed my luggage and met Dad downstairs. I was meeting Van at the airport at two with the rest of the band.

We arrived at 1:30. Van was already waiting on the tarmac. You’re an early riser, I muttered as I brought my luggage and stowed it aboard Dad’s clients plane. Van followed suit. Yeah, couldn’t sleep, you know how it is on the road with a world famous rock band?

Know what you mean, I added ruefully.

Dylan would be bringing the band’s instruments in his pickup truck. He arrived soon after Van and I got there. There would be no need for the road crew as one would be provided in Europe, so it was the five band members, their gear, Van and I—plus Dad.

Teresa and Corey arrived soon after Dylan and helped load the luggage and instruments.

Where’s Nate and Sam? I asked as we were about to climb aboard the small jet.

Teresa shrugged. Just talked to Nate before we came here, she said. Asked if he and Sam needed a ride and he said no he had a friend bringing them here.

The early morning gloom still had a touch of coolness and a fog had started to roll in. We can’t wait much longer, Dad said. I have to make this meeting in New York and you guys need to catch your flight. If this fog gets any thicker we may be grounded.

Dylan called on his cell but there was no answer with Nate or Sam. The pilot came over to us and told us we had to go now. We climbed aboard. Dylan trying one more time to reach Nate and Sam but they either didn’t answer their phone or weren’t able to. I was a little worried as we took our seats. Soon the pilot had the engine running and within minutes we were taxiing down the runway.

Once we were airborne Corey and Dylan came over to sit next to me. What are we going to do without Nate on drums or Sam on bass? Corey said with a worried expression. We can’t go on without a drummer and a bass player.

Maybe you can hire someone in London, I suggested. Maybe the record company can set something up.

Once we land in New York I’ll make the call, Dylan said. He seemed to be the leader of the group, so we left it in his hands. It bothered me that Nate and Sam had both missed the flight. I was worried that something had happened to them. Don’t worry, guys, we’ll figure this out. It’ll be OK. This seemed to appease Corey and Dylan and Teresa.

The flight to New York was without incident. We landed about 2 hours later, at 6 am. Our flight to London was at 8 so we had to scurry. We got through customs and boarded the next flight with only minutes to spare.

While waiting at the airport Dylan had contacted Darius Waldman, who would be overseeing the groups tour for the London leg. He was from the TopFlight Record company’s London office. He was not impressed with Nate and Sam missing the flight, but said he would procure another drummer and bass player for us. Darius had the band’s itinerary and copies of their music, so he would get the replacements to start practicing right away on the songs.

It was a 7 hour 30 minute flight to Heathrow and with the time difference we arrived at 8 pm that night. It was raining and a fog had come up as we took a taxi from the airport to the Grand Marquis Hotel in downtown London. In two days the band would be playing at a theatre about 3 km away, on the Thames River.

Darius met us in the hotel lobby—and he didn’t look happy. He was tall and slim with longish curly dark brown hair and a thick beard. He was wearing a black t-shirt with the bands logo on it. Both arms were covered in colourful sleeve tattoos. On both wrists were studded leather bracelets and I counted 4 large rings on various fingers.

 About time you blokes arrived, he muttered in a slight British accent. Why was your flight so late?

Dylan explained about how the original flight from Toronto had been cancelled.

You might want to hire a new manager, he grunted. You are almost a day late. We have a lot of work to do. Not to mention I got Renny on the drum kit downstairs right now practicing for the gig in two days. I also got a bass player, Charlie, he’s not the greatest but he’ll do.

Can’t we get some sleep first?, Teresa said wearily.

Sorry sweetheart, Darius said with a sneer. You want to be a rock star this is what you put up with. No sleep and forget about 3 square meals. You eat when the food is put in front of you. Darius turned to Van and me. Who are these blokes? Your groupies?

Corey spoke up. No these are my friends, he said. Call them security.

Well I ain’t calling them anything. You don’t need security. It’s all been arranged for you. So you blokes can go back home.

Ah, excuse me, Dylan broke in. These “blokes” aren’t going anywhere and don’t think you’re going to intimidate us with your attitude. We just had a 7 hour flight and we’re tired. We are going to our rooms to rest and will meet with you later. Justin and Van will be travelling with us—it’s already been arranged. As for us being late, we will look into who cancelled our original flight and get back to you. We have 2 days before we are onstage and I realize we have an interview tomorrow morning, so if you will excuse us, we’re checking in now.

Have it your way, Darius said, raising his hands in surrender. He turned to walk away, but then turned back to us. Looking at Dylan he smiled. You blokes are right and I apologize. I will see you at 10 am here in the lobby. Our interview is at the radio station next to the record company offices a few blocks from here. I will send a taxi when the time comes. With that he left and headed to the elevator.

You just gotta know how to handle these guys, Dylan said with a grin.

We could learn a lesson from you, I said as we made our way to the front desk to check in. That was awesome how you handled Darius.

We would have another unexpected surprise awaiting us.

I’m sorry sir, the young man at the desk remarked. Your reservations have been cancelled.

What!? Teresa blurted. By whom?

The man, whose badge said his name was Mason, typed a few words into the computer and turned to us and shrugged. No name given. It just says that the reservation for the ComfortZone party was to be cancelled that you were not going to make the trip to London. No reason was given.

Well, we’re here and we’re bone tired, Van blurted out and the others nodded. We need a room—now!

I will see what I can do, sir, Mason said, flustered, picking up the phone. He spoke in low tones to what I hoped was his supervisor. A few minutes later he hung up and turned to us. I am sorry but we are fully booked up. There are no rooms available. Your rooms were given away about an hour ago.

This is crazy! Dylan exclaimed turning to us. Where are we going to stay now? I don’t know about you “blokes” but I’m exhausted.

Mason picked up the phone again and made another call. Excuse me, he said, hanging up a minute later. But we have a sister hotel about a block from here. The Princess Elizabeth. They have two adjoining rooms and they would be able to put you up. I’ll call a taxi for you to take you there if you wish? Once again we apologize for the mix-up.

Van nodded. I’m sorry that I freaked out earlier, he said. It wasn’t your fault about the reservation cancellation. Seems we have a mysterious friend who is trying hard to mess up our plans.

No problem, and I understand, sir, Mason said with a smile. The hotel management feels badly about the mix-up. We will certainly report this to the authorities.

I nodded thanks. We moved off to commiserate amongst ourselves while we waited for the taxi.

So who has it in for us? Corey said, looking between Van and me. Someone doesn’t want us to do this concert. The last time this happened it was one of the group. He turned to Dylan and Teresa. I know it’s not me. Is it one of you two. Tell us now and get it over with. Are one of you guys getting cold feet about his tour?