Circus Tent is a series of short stories and rock and roll vignettes about Skye Wright’s band The Dynamite Chicks going on a cross-country tour.

Preston runs into his daughter as the tour goes through Texas, the seventeen year old daughter that he did not know that he had until a few months prior.

Offspring

     Preston spotted her when she saw her friend, a tall and skinny punk with a torn up Total Chaos shirt and ratty multicolored braids who was jumping up and down like an excited school kid.
     She was laughing, with a big wide grin, as her taller and almost as skinny-as-herself friend was making a scene.
     Trieste and her friends were backstage for the show, wearing the backstage passes that Skye had gotten for them.
     “Who let these skanky little punks in here?” said Miranda quite loudly as she walked in with her bass case.
     Trieste and her friends circled up with Miranda. The appearance of his tall and dangerous-looking girlfriend changed their demeanor, almost like rowdy school kids when the teacher walked in.
     “What the fuck are you talking about?” said Miranda suddenly, trying to look mean while smiling at the same time.
     Miranda leaned in and whispered something. Trieste and her small group of friends let out a collected “Eeeew!” as Trieste’s tall and skinny friend gave Miranda a shove.
     Preston recognized the other friend, the one with the stringy red hair who always wore a wool cap. It was her rowdy friend Rudy, the one who had confronted Miranda when Trieste first came around.
     The flashbacks shot through his mind, when Miranda came up to him at The Stork Club, that night Trieste had arrived to find him and let him know that she was his daughter. That was the night when he found out his ex-fling Tiffany, known as Texas Tiffany in the scene, had run back to her old home town once she discovered she was pregnant, giving birth to his daughter and concealing that fact from him for more than a decade.
     Trieste was compelled to find him once her mother confessed that the boyfriend of Miranda Scholl, one of the most recognizable members of The Dynamite Chicks, was her father.
     He knew that if it were not for Miranda he would have had a much tougher time dealing with the revelation.
     “Yo! What the fuck ya’ doin’?” asked Annie through her flailing mane of frizzy black hair as she barged up to Preston.
     Preston looked down at the guitar in his hands. “Whoops.”
     “Ya tune ‘em yet?”
     “Naw.” He tossed his head in the direction of Trieste and Miranda.
     “What? Who’s that?”
     “Y’heard about my kid?”
     Annie’s eyes became wide. She looked over at the group. “Which one is she again?”
     “With the black hair, wearing the DOA shirt.”
     “Damn boy, she’s beautiful! Nice job.”
     Preston felt flush. “I’m still tryin’ to get used to the idea.”
     “No shit. I don’t know that I got the whole story. Your bitch ex just ran off an’ never told you about her?”
     “Until she showed up at the Hat Confusion show, I had no idea she even existed.”
     Annie shook her head. “Fuck me.”
     Preston put down Annie’s guitar. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”
     “You should go talk to her. I can tune my own guitar.”
     Preston turned to see Miranda walking offstage. His skin stood on edge when he saw Trieste and her friends walking toward him.
     “She’s comin’ to say hi,” said Annie as she picked up her guitar.
     “Don’t leave me,” hissed Preston through his teeth.
     “What?”
     “I’m serious.”
     Trieste’s smile slowly faded as she walked up to Preston with her friends.
     “Hey,” said Trieste as if she had forgotten his name.
     “Hey Trieste.”
     Annie punched Preston on the shoulder. “Hug your kid you dumb bastard!”
     Preston rolled his eyes, rubbed his shoulder where Annie had hit him, and gave Trieste an awkward hug.
     Annie saw the look on Trieste’s face when she embraced him, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was overwhelmed.
     Her look quickly disappeared when Preston let her go, putting her poker face back on.
     “I think we met briefly back in SF,” said Annie as she extended a hand.
     “Everybody here knows who you are,” said Trieste’s tall and skinny friend who pointed at Annie.
     “Those rumors aren’t true!” said Annie. “I think Preston started all of that unfounded gossip to spite me.”
     “Even the rumor about the boy scouts and the senator?” asked tall and skinny.
     “Oh no, that one’s true.”
     Trieste rolled her eyes. “This is Claire. She’s the funny one.”
     “Yes, I can tell,” said Preston.
     “You guys take requests?” asked Trieste’s friend Rudy as she barged up to Annie.
     “No Free Bird!” said Annie.
     “How about some Journey?” asked Rudy with an impish smile. “Wheel in the Sky?”
     “Gail would love us for that.”
     “Say what?”
     “Gail Burp.”
     “What about her?”
     “She’s a huge Journey fan. She has a raging crush on Steve Perry.”
     “What the fuck are you talking about?” blurted Claire. “She’s a dyke!”
     “She’s also a rabid Journey fan. Don’t make fun of them if she’s around or she’ll get bent outta shape.”
     Trieste turned to Preston as her friends bantered with Annie. “Thanks for gettin’ Skater Scabs in on this,” said Trieste.
     “That was Skye. She’s the one you should be thanking.”
     Trieste leaned towards Preston. “They’re a little nervous,” she whispered.
     “Because of the venue?”
     “They’ve only played dinky clubs an’ house parties an’ shit like that. This is way bigger than any other place they’ve been in.”
     “Is your boyfriend nervous? Because I could talk to him.”
     “Well…” Trieste darted her eyes.
     “Hm?”
     Trieste looked down at the floor as she wrung her hands. “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
     Preston was surprised, not only at the news, but also at the seethe that went through him.
     “What happened?” asked Preston. “Did you break up with him?”
     “He broke up with me.”
     “Seriously?” blurted Preston. “Why?”
     “I… don’t really want to get into it.”
     Preston’s mind went blank as he felt a roil of unfamiliar emotions.
     He tried to press it down. He looked over to Annie who was still talking to Rudy and Claire.
     “Do me a favor,” said Preston.
     “Yeah?”
     “Don’t tell Skye or Miranda that Scoop dumped you.”
     Trieste’s expression turned to confusion, or possibly alarm. “Why?”
     “Well, they’re kinda… They can get a little terse at times.”
     “What?”
     “They both got kinda shitty tempers.”
     Trieste’s eyes became wide. “They wouldn’t hurt him, would they?”
     Preston’s skin went cold.
     He stood straight and steeled his eyes. “No, they wouldn’t hurt him, but they might get bent outta shape about it. They’re like that. They really like you, and they can be protective of people they care about.”
     Trieste looked around with worried eyes. “He’s still my friend, if that makes any difference.”
     “They won’t do anything.” Preston could feel himself burning as he said it. “Not with me around.”
     “Okay,” said Trieste as if she were unsure.
     Preston looked around to see if he could find Scoop or any of the other Skater Scabs. “You still want me to talk to them?”
     Trieste brightened up. “If you could, yeah.”
     “Is Rudy gonna beat me up?”
     Trieste could not resist a smile. “She might try.”
     Rudy turned and looked at them when she heard her name. She walked up to them.
     “Well, if it ain’t the deadbeat dad,” snarked Rudy.
     Trieste punched Rudy on the shoulder. “Don’t fuckin’ say that.”
     Preston only raised an eyebrow.
     “You playin’ on this tour?” asked Rudy.
     “No. Just doin’ roadie stuff.”
     “Not even your side gig?”
     “Side gig?” asked Trieste.
     “Skye an’ me got a side gig,” said Preston. “It’s just a once in a while thing. Not a regular band.”
     “I heard you guys did a karaoke night,” said Rudy.
     “What?” blurted Trieste.
     “Our band played a karaoke night,” said Preston. “People came up to the stage and we played punk standards while people sang.”
     “Holy shit!” exclaimed Trieste. “That’s fuckin’ cool.”
     “Tell Skater Scabs. They can rip off the idea if they want.”
     “Pfft!” dismissed Rudy. “They ain’t that good yet.”
     “Sure they are.”
     “I wish I coulda been there,” said Trieste.
     Trieste gave Rudy another punch on the shoulder and Rudy retreated to their gang, who were now talking to Skye as well as Annie.
     Trieste looked at Preston as she folded her hands. “I was wonderin’ if you wouldn’t mind letting my ma come backstage.”
     Preston’s mind went blank.
     He looked up at the stage lights and took in a deep breath.
     “I mean…” stuttered Trieste.
     “Honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready to see her.”
     “Yeah?”
     Preston’s mind was racing. “It might… I mean…”
     “It’s okay,” said Trieste as she put her hands behind her back.
     “I gotta think about it. Finding out about you was kind of a shock.”
     “It’s okay.”
     Trieste excused herself and went up to her friends who had floated towards the snack table.
     Preston reminded himself that he was supposed to be working. He went to tune Miranda’s bass as he tried to remember what else he was supposed to be doing. He distracted himself with the details of the equipment, quickly tuning Annie’s guitars and checking out her pedal board.
     “What the fuck are you talking about?”
     Preston quickly turned around when he heard Miranda’s bellow. He spotted her by the snack table, furrowing her brow at Scoop.
     Scoop had his hands up, as if he were surrendering.
     “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” growled Miranda as Preston quickly walked up to them.
     “It’s not like…” stuttered Scoop as he kept his hands up. “I mean, we’re…”
     Preston put a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “Be cool.”
     Miranda scowled at Scoop. “You’re crazy! What were you thinking?”
     Preston got between Miranda and Scoop, even though he could tell from her stance and tone that she was not actually agitated enough to strike.
     “Jesus, what the fuck?” groused Miranda. “How could you ditch a catch like her?”
     Preston looked right at Miranda. “Principles before personalities, right?”
     “Man…” said Miranda as she threw up her hands and walked away.
     Preston could not help himself. He turned and gave Scoop a pointed look.
     “It’s kind of a long story,” defended Scoop.
     “They all are,” said Preston. “Believe me, I know!”
     Skye called out to Preston and he retreated to help out with the band’s set up. He was plugging in Annie’s pedal board at the same time he was trying to remind himself to talk to Scoop about how to handle playing in front of a large audience for the first time.
     He then decided he would ask Skye to give Scoop and his band that pep talk.
     Preston wanted to talk to Miranda, but he could tell she was still fuming. Preston did his best to give her the look, the one that he used to tell her to calm down, but he was not sure if it was having any effect.
     “What’s up with your daughter?”
     Preston felt a jolt go through him.
     He turned around. It was Roach.
     “What’s up?” asked Preston.
     “Trieste. She seems like a real Debbie downer for someone who’s runnin’ around backstage at a big show.”
     Preston looked around and spotted Trieste. She was standing near the exit, leaning against the wall with her hands behind her back.
     He put down Annie’s guitar and walked up to her.
     “So, yeah, it’s all good,” said Preston.
     “What?”
     “You can tell your ma it’s cool to come backstage.”
     Trieste’s face screwed up. Preston could not tell if she was trying not to smile or if she was about to cry.
     “Just go tell Colleen,” said Preston. “She’ll get her in.”
     Trieste got out her phone and sent a quick text. She pocketed her phone and threw her arms around Preston.
     He hugged her back as she buried her face in his chest, holding him tight. He could feel her shudder.
     She let go of him. “Thank you,” she said with a cracking voice.
     Trieste walked up to Colleen as Preston spotted Miranda by the drum riser, fiddling with the bass he had just tuned.
     “Hey,” said Preston as he walked up to Miranda.
     “I can’t believe that little twerp dumped your daughter.”
     “I can’t believe it either. But, y’know, crazy little punks.”
     “Yeah,” said Miranda as she looked down at her bass.
     “I’m gonna need some back up.”
     Miranda shot Preston an alarmed look. “Throwdown?”
     Preston shook his head. “Tiffany’s coming by.”
     Miranda’s eyes grew wide. “The ex who never told you about your Trieste?”
     “I’m not sure how I’ll react when I see her.”
     Miranda put down her bass. “I don’t know either.”
     “We gotta stay cool for Trieste. She’s the one who wants her to come by.”
     Miranda let out a long sigh as she balled up her fists.
     “It’s tough being nice,” said Preston, “ain’t it?”
     “It’s a goddamn drag.” Miranda leaned towards Preston. “But I won’t do anything. I promise.”
     “Try not to scowl either.”
     “Psh!”
     A scratchy scrawl came out of the stage speakers. They turned and saw Rudy messing with one of the Skater Scabs guitars.
     Preston walked up to Rudy. Trieste was holding onto Scoop’s bass while her friend Claire was sitting behind the drums.
     “I didn’t know you played guitar,” said Preston.
     “I don’t,” said Rudy as she concentrated on the fretboard. “I mean, I kinda do and I kinda don’t.”
     Trieste blonked out a few notes on Scoop’s bass as Claire tapped away on the snare and the high hat.
     Preston tried to be impressed with Trieste’s bass playing skills. It was obvious that she had a few lessons, no doubt from Scoop.
     “You guys need to come up with a name for your band,” said Preston.
     “We’ll probably end up arguing about it,” said Rudy.
     Preston backed up as the trio attempted to coordinate.
     “Guffer Guff,” said Miranda, who had sided next to Preston.
     “What?”
     “It’s a Skater Scab’s song. That’s what they’re trying to play.”
     “Really?”
     Preston wondered if the song had lyrics as he listened to them blonk out the song. He noticed Scoop watching them from a distance, with a faraway look in his eye.
     The trio stopped playing. “We gotta try a different tune.”
     Scoop walked up to Trieste. “Here, lemme tune my bass.”
     Rudy walked up to Preston. “I gotta ask, did you really not know about Trieste until earlier this year?”
     “No fucking clue. I had no idea Tiffany ran off and had my kid.”
     Rudy narrowed her eyes. “Come on, you didn’t even suspect?”
     “We weren’t exactly a couple. We fooled around on and off for like, I don’t know, a few months. We just hooked up now and then.”
     “Okay.” Rudy looked up at Preston. “I suppose I believe you.”
     “You gotta understand, I was a drugged out mess back then. I didn’t exactly keep in touch with a lotta people, especially a hit-and-run romance who just upped and disappeared. I was so blitzed out at the time I barely even noticed Tiffany was gone.”
     “Sure.”
     Skye walked up to them. She had strapped on her bass. “Give Preston that guitar,” said Skye.
     “What?”
     Skye pointed at Trieste who was standing by the drums, holding onto a mic. “We’re gonna do some karaoke.”
     Preston’s heart skipped a beat.
     “What…” stuttered Preston. “What’s she gonna sing?”
     “Long Black Veil, the punk version.”
     “What song?”
     “You know, the punk version. The one by Baby Opaque.”
     “Right!”
     Preston took the guitar and walked up to the stage, trying to remember the riffs for the loud and wild Johnny Cash cover that he had heard years ago.
     Plugging in, Preston felt nervous, but not for himself.
     “You remember the words?” asked Skye as she walked up to Trieste.
     “I think so?” replied Trieste as she scrunched her nose.
     They started into the song and Preston was impressed that she was able to get through the first stanza. She started to stumble halfway through the song and her gang started heckling her, throwing paper cups and scrunched up napkins at her as she tried to sing the rest of the song while also laughing.
     Rudy came up and requested London Calling. Skye glanced at Preston as they sang backup, both of them impressed with Rudy’s singing skills.
     The tall and boisterous Claire insisted on singing a semi-competent version of Slave to my Dick. A few of Trieste’s other friends stuck to standards, singing Rebel Girl and Anarchy in the UK, both of them singing very much in amateur karaoke style.
     Claire came back up and requested Carnival by Bikini Kill, singing with a little more gusto and competence than her first go around.
     Preston glanced at Skye, seeing the bright look in her eye. He could tell she was having fun.
     Trieste walked up to Preston after Claire was finished singing. “D’ya think Skye would mind if I sang Atomic Bomb Betty?”
     Preston stood straight as his skin stood on edge. “She would fuckin’ love it!”
     Trieste took the mic from Claire.
     Preston knew Skye was holding back a wide smile when Trieste told her what she wanted to sing.
     Starting the quick high-pitched progression that preceded the initial kick-in, Preston realized he was paying rapt attention to his playing. As they all blasted in when the first stanza came around, Skye hit the rapid-fire bass notes and Gitta launched the frantic thrum that drove the epic song about a wild and sexy punk who had enchanted everyone in the scene, despite the fact she had more red flags than a Chinese military parade.
     Trieste was a decent, amateur singer, in that her vocal enthusiasm helped make up for her lack of singing talent. She sang the first stanza while looking around the floor. By the second stanza she was looking out into the sparse pre-show crowd. Her friends were jumping up and down, and Miranda helped start a small pit with the rest of The Dynamite Chicks and The Jolly Sturms, along with a few roadies and club personnel joining in on the small circle mosh.
     Trieste started jumping up and down as she belted out the rest of the lyrics, contorting her body as she sang, getting into the song, which animated her in a way Preston had not thought possible.
     He surprised himself when he was forced to hold back a tear as his skin became hot and cold.
     Skye made her way across the stage, still furiously plucking out the frantic bass line. When the song was over Trieste got a rousing round of applause
     Skye stood in front of Preston, deliberately blocking him from view of the small crowd.
     “You need to take a break?”
     Preston gripped his guitar and shook his head. “I’ll be all right.”
     “Hang on…”
     Skye took the mic from Trieste, giving her a quick hug before she skittered back to her group, giddy about her performance.
     Preston kept looking down at his guitar as he tried to sort himself.