Enchilada Ed

34

The old Linden Steel campus was alive with music when Ed and Audra arrived. Ed parked in the first available lot he could find. Audra could hear the far-off sound of amplified guitars as she climbed out of the Malibu.

"There's a concert!" She grinned.

"Probably a couple of concerts going on, actually," Ed took his phone from his pocket, "There's three different concert venues here and it's a Friday."

"Three concerts?" Audra furrowed her brow.

"We're only interested in one," Ed brought up the entertainment campus's website, "and it looks like it's being held in the Furnace Plaza."

"But," Audra impulsively patted her pockets, "I don't have my wallet- not that I have any money-"

"If I'm right," Ed took Audra's hand, "we won't need money."

Ed led Audra past the museum and arthouse cinema, which was screening a prerecorded broadcast of Kenneth Branagh Theatre's As You Like It. They passed the performing arts center, and the two smaller music venues: one empty, the other featuring a local indie rock band. From the picture on the poster, Ed recognized the drummer as one of Mike's high school friends. They continued until they stood on the walk between the largest concert venue and the last standing remains of the old steel mill: the enormous blast furnaces: those five sleeping giants.

Audra's eyes flittered from Ed to the furnaces to the venue, itself a tall building made of concrete, repurposed I-beams, and walls and walls of glass. A twang of guitar music hung in the air like dripping honey. Audra cocked her head sideways.

"I know this song," she said, "Is that-"

Audra's question was interrupted by someone singing: an unmistakable baritone, somewhat nasal, but strong and sweet and soaked in a Texas accent.

"Willie!" She gasped.

"The show's sold out," Ed said, "but I figured we could still hear some of it, from outside. They call it the Furnace Plaza because you can see the blast furnaces from out all those windows," he pointed up at the windows high on the venue's wall, "For a while they didn't hold concerts in there because they were converting the old rail line into a trestle park and all the construction ruined the view. I remember Mike saying-"

"Trestle-" Audra looked at Ed's mouth, "I don't know that word."

"Trestle park. It's that thing," Ed pointed to a bridge elevated about forty feet above the ground, running along the side of the blast furnaces, "You can walk around and get a closer look at the furnaces. They have a bunch of flowers and trees and benches up there too."

Audra looked from the trestle park to the venue, and then back to the trestle park.

"Is there a charge?"

"Nah," Ed pointed a flight of stairs a few feet away, "You just climb up and-"

"Do you suppose from that height we might see into the concert?" Audra grinned.

"Well," Ed attempted to measure the distance between the trestle and the top floor of the venue, "You might get to see the top of Willie's head?"

Audra ran to the stairs.

***

Audra couldn't get a glimpse of Willie Nelson's head, even when she knelt down on one of the trestle's benches and peered through the plastic chains in the side-rail fence.

"We tried," she finally said, standing up.

"That's all that counts," Ed said.

Audra walked close to where Ed leaned against the fence. He felt dizzy. He didn't normally get dizzy from heights. He held onto the rail to steady himself.. The day's dying sunlight fell down over Audra so that her eyelashes cast shadows onto her cheeks. Ed noticed that she was squinting; the windows of the venue caught a beam of white light and reflected it back into her eyes. Ed looked out over the old mill's campus, the city beyond it, and the sliver of the purple Linden bending toward the mountains.