One Night in Baton Rouge

INTRODUCTION: This is an entry in the story event; One Night in XXX. The challenge for this event is to craft a story that starts and finishes all in one night and in one town. This one that is based on an old song from the late 1960s and a line in it about Baton Rouge, Louisiana. The song should be familiar to many readers. For those not familiar, I'll put a couple of lines of it here to help refresh your memory: "Busted flat in Baton Rouge, headin' for the trains...Feeling nearly as faded as my jeans..." I interpret the song as being primarily about love. Due to the event guidelines and constraints, for this story I can only imagine the beginning of that romance...that first night in Baton Rouge.

There's also another tid-bit of history entwined in the story, and that's the fact that Jimi Hendrix started his second US tour in Baton Rouge on July 30, 1968. It was held at the old Independence Hall at the Lakeshore Auditorium. That was a huge old auditorium near the Mississippi River between downtown Baton Rouge and the State Capital...but alas, it is no longer standing.

I hope one or a few enjoy this little stroll down memory lane. I had fun writing it for you ~ yukonnights.

rosa-blanca.ru: One Night, Romance, 1960's, Nostalgia, First Love, Heterosexual,

*****

One Night in Baton Rouge

It was July 30, 1968 and Kris had barely made it in time. The guy who gave him the ride for the final seventy miles was kind enough to drop him off near his destination...or at least he told Kris he thought it was around here somewhere. Grabbing his duffle bag and guitar out of the bed of the old Ford pickup, Kris said, "Thanks again Ray, you sure you don't want to stick around for the concert...it's going to go down in history."

"No, I need to be getting on down the road. You're one of a dying breed Kris, not many just wandering the roads anymore. You be careful now."

"I'll sure try Ray, thanks again for the lift."

Not being familiar with Baton Rouge, the first item of business was to get some directions. He hadn't figured on Baton Rouge being this large. Big towns usually meant a lot of walking and no easy hitchhiking. Spotting a gas station just half a block in what seemed would be the right direction, Kris slung his bag onto a shoulder, grabbed the handle of the guitar case and walked on.

*****

"How do, I'm wondering if you could point me in the right direction to the Lakeshore Auditorium," Kris asked the young man behind the cash counter.

"Sure, you going to the concert tonight?"

"I'm hoping to. I need to get someplace where I might be able to make a few bucks playing on the street. I think the tickets are going for six bucks. You going to go tonight?"

"Hell yeah! I wouldn't let this one slip by, that's for sure. Anyway, you aint all that far. You come in here on Highway 190, just keep on heading west just the way you was toward downtown. Couple miles you'll come to River Road. Head north and you can't miss it. If you go past the State Capital you've gone too far. But hell, it's bigger'n barn and I imagine there'll already be a crowd outside," the young red headed station attendant said.

"Much obliged, maybe I'll see ya later," Kris said and continued walking down the road.

Sure enough, it wasn't more than half an hour walk and he hoped he'd gotten there with enough time to strum up some spare change for the ticket. He had the six buck's and he definitely wasn't going to miss the opening night of Jimi Hendrix's second tour. Not planning to stay in Baton Rouge more than just the night though, he was hoping to pad his bankroll and a crowd was always a good place to do that.

Walking into the thick of it, there seemed to be a decent gathering of students and misfits like himself already milling about the auditorium, so Kris sat down by a large fountain and pulled the Guild six string out of it's battered case. This old guitar and him had seen many a good time and more than enough bad times. It was worn and scratched, looking like it had been rode pretty hard over the years, much like himself. But most of all, like all good friends, they knew each other intimately and had shared tears and laughter together in bars and honky-tonks and on railways and byways. This old friend had paid for many a meal too. Now, they just needed to buy a ticket together.

Kris started off with an old Hank Williams tune, just to warm his hands. Then he played a couple a country songs that everyone should know. The crowd was starting to listen and a few even joined in, some coins began to jingle in the inviting case where the guitar had just been.

Just as things were getting going, he saw her looking at him. A less skilled performer would have missed a chord just then. He saw her smile, just for him and mighty fair—a pretty young lady with a flower in her hair. At the end of the song she boldly walked up, "You're not bad. But we could do better as a pair."

"Oh, I wouldn't argue with that at all. What did you have in mind?"

"You play and sing, I'll dance and bring in the crowd, then we split it fifty-fifty."

Kris was impressed. First of all he was impressed by her self-confidence. Secondly he was very impressed with the way she filled out the skin tight halter top that had no doubt been designed for the explicit intent to addle males of the species...nice design, but the body in it was much nicer. It was a teasing garment and he was more than willing to be teased. His eyes lingered long enough to take in the pert upturned breasts that the thin cotton print material did nothing to hide. The firm nipples stood out clearly just above the point where the round curve sloped upward. Mostly, he was impressed with the long raven black curls and deep wells of dark brown eyes. His first thought was of gypsies...his second was of desire.

"Well, you just gonna stare at me until the crowd's gone or are we going to make some money?"

"I'm game. But I get what's already in the case," he replied and scooped the scattered change into his hand and shoved it into his pants pocket.

"Okay, give me something lively to dance to," the strange woman said and whirled away with her long cotton skirt floating out like a colorful flowered umbrella opening up.

Kris started strumming some beat music, keeping it simple and not signing. He was both curious and intrigued by this strange creature who just appeared out of nowhere and jumped into his quiet life. But it didn't take long for him to see she was right. The crowd grew and the tips piled up quicker than he had ever done alone. The beats he was doing were so routine that he too could focus his attention on the the dancer and appreciate the grace of this strange woman. Her dance was a unique mixture of delicate nuance combined with a primal urgency that spoke of life itself—all overlaid with a sensuous allure of sexuality that sparkled over the entire crowd. When a drummer joined in, Kris looked around to see a black man with long hair and funky clothes keeping perfect beat with him. They nodded their greeting and the drummer joined in with more gusto. Glancing back to the strange woman, it was obvious that she was literally pouring her soul out for the crowd. She was entranced with her dance and he was entranced with her.

Out of curiosity, Kris slowly and seamlessly lowered the tempo until the three performers were engaged in a slow seductive expression of music and dance. She was the very embodiment of feminine sexuality as her lithe body perfectly interpreted his eloquent expressions of note and rhythm. Now there were others dancing, mostly other young hippie chicks with a few brave young men trying to keep up. What had started as a way to fund a couple of tickets had turned into a mini-event in and of itself. It was a lighthearted and happy crowd and the performance by these three strangers would no doubt become part of someone's memory of the night they saw Jimi Hendrix live.

Without even counting, Kris knew they had more than enough to buy a couple of tickets. He kept an eye on the guitar case and the cash it held, but this wasn't the kind of crowd to worry about and they were caught up in the movement of the moment. It was a time of hope, even in the face of evil—a time of love, even in the face of so much hate. It was also almost time to wind this act down and get some tickets.

Kris caught the eye of the unknown girl and signaled time to wrap it up. Then he and the drummer connected and they all ended with a quick dramatic finish together. The girl had followed the accompaniment seamlessly as she gave the crowd a couple of more twirls and sunk to the ground on the final beat—her head down, the thick black curls covering her face and arms stretched out toward the ground. The crowd cheered and clapped, and more coins clinked into the case. With a few final words of kindness to the performers, the crowd moved slowly toward the auditorium and the real show.

"I told you," she said matter of factly.

"That you did, I think they liked the little flourish you added to the music," Kris replied just to test the waters a bit.

"I'd say it was the other way around myself," the raven hair beauty shot back.

She had spunk, had to give her that. "All joking aside, you were amazing. You've had formal dance training, haven't you?"

"Yes, the usual Mom wants a ballerina routine. But it did teach me some of the basics," she replied in a slightly more open way.

"Let's split the tips with our new band member over there and get our tickets before it's too late. By the way, my name's Kris," he said and offered his hand.

"My friends call me Bobby," she said and gently took the offered hand of friendship.

"Are you from around here Bobby?"

"Nope, just passing through. How about you?"

"Same as you. I just got into town about an hour ago. Probably be heading out by morning light," Kris told her.

"I doubt I'll be sticking around here either. Some bad vibes here...lot's of hate. I can feel it in my bones. I'm not used to all this segregation crap." Bobby replied.

"I feel it too. Old ways die hard. But come on, lets go see Jimi knock some of those walls down with some music."

*****

The concert was set up in Independence Hall, it was no doubt a part of the local history. Similar to the many music halls built in the earlier half of the century throughout the South, this one had memories of many of the past legends. If the old walls could talk, my what a tale they could tell. Unlike many of the concerts and music festivals taking place in large stadiums around the country, this one actually had honest to goodness seating for everyone. Kris got his bag stowed away between his legs and Bobby kept hold of the guitar for him. As they waited for the opening band to come out they chatted and became better acquainted.

"So, where you heading once this is all done," Bobby asked.

"Sort of generally west is the big plan," he replied.

"That doesn't sound like much of a plan...anyplace specific?"

"Not really. I'll probably hang out in Austin for a few days, and I know some folks that are up around Taos I'm hoping to find. How 'bout you?" he asked.

"Well, I've been crashing at some acquaintance's place for the last week. But my own big plan is to make it out to San Francisco. I've got one friend out there and the last time she wrote me, it sounds like the place to be at the moment," Bobby told him.

"Sounds like we're going the same direction then. You have a car or what?"

"No, I'm figuring on just thumbing it and hoping for the best," Bobby replied.

"I usually try to jump on an empty boxcar myself. Once you get onboard you usually have a ride for a good ways before having to jump off. You ever ride the trains?"

"No, that one never crossed my mind, but it does sound like an adventure I shouldn't miss. I always thought it sounded kind of dangerous though. You ever been hassled?"

"Not worth mentioning really. I'm not sure I'd recommend it to a young lady like yourself, not alone anyway. But it really does offer another view of the country, mostly it's a lot more scenic if you like scenery. I kinda like meeting the people out there, it's a whole different culture...one that's hidden from the view of most folks," Kris said.

"Where you staying tonight?" Bobby asked.

"I hadn't planned that far out yet, to tell the truth. I guess I might try for a room somewhere since we made so much money tonight. I'll figure it out once the shows over."

"You could crash at the place I'm staying if you want. There's always people coming and going, so one more wouldn't bother anyone," Bobby said.

"Thanks for the offer, I'll take you up on that if you're sure it'll be okay," Kris replied.

"No problem, like I said, it's come one come all most of the time," Bobby told him.

What she didn't tell him was that she was also interested in more than just offering a stranger a place to sleep for the night. She had been drawn to his rugged masculinity from the first moment she laid eyes on him. So many of the guys who hung around the folks she had met here were college guys and still too unsure of themselves. She had sampled a few of them between the sheets, and found it entertaining but lacking something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Maybe it was just the energy of this night, but the big hands that so delicately brought music to life evoked questions in her mind about how they might strum her body to the higher peaks of delight. She was definitely ready for a man, and Kris was obviously a man in ever sense of the word—not the least of which was the fact he was clearly raised a gentleman despite the rough exterior. Yes, she would certainly like to see more of what lay underneath.

Finally, the announcer came on stage and shouted into his mic, "Are you ready Baton Rouge!"

It was a stupid question, but the gig had to start with something. The crowd of several thousand people roared back and the guy onstage introduced the opening act, Soft Machine to get the show going. As expected, the band opened up at full volume and the crowd added their own thunder to the moment—it was the statement of a new generation throwing off the gentile constraints of the past. The band did their job well, getting the crowd warmed up and eager for the main event. Everyone was on their feet it seemed, and so were Kris and Bobby. Being over six feet, he had the advantage to see more clearly what was happening on stage, Bobby used the distraction to further explore the finer details of his features. The music and the close proximity of this man were certainly stirring the brew beginning to simmer in her imagination...the aroma of those thoughts was that of a growing desire she hadn't indulged in quite some time.

While Kris was indeed watching the rockers on stage, it didn't take all of his attention to see what needed to be seen. He'd actually seen multiple dozens of the trope in his travels. He could also see Bobby out of the corner of his eye, and felt her studied appraisal as if she was sizing up a horse in the auction ring. She amused him and intrigued him, and he would definitely like to bed her. He admired her spunk and the fact that she was out here in this lifestyle all on her own. That he found her beautiful was just cream on top of an already perfect slice of pie. He was a little perturbed that she couldn't see the stage for the big dude standing in front of her. Noticing that he himself was standing behind the guy's date, Kris wrapped an arm around Bobby and indicated for her to stand in front of him. As she maneuvered into place, Kris moved his bag from the floor into her abandoned seat. Now they could both see and he'd have a good reason to hold her body close to his own. That she didn't resist spoke volumes to him, and it was a very sweet volume of thoughts that he read in her willingness to snuggle closer.

By the time Soft Machine had finished what would be a highlight of their own career, the crowd was ready to sit again. As the last song wound down and the group left the stage, Bobby and Kris too were ready for a breather. Instead of rearranging the bag and guitar, Kris just sat down pulling Bobby onto his lap. She leaned back against his chest as his arms found comfortable resting places around her waist. The sheerness of the cotton fabric was almost as if there was nothing separating his hands from her warm skin. She felt tiny to him, but clearly all woman. He didn't doubt that she was a firebrand if crossed, but he had always preferred a strong woman. His momma had been such a woman, and she taught him how to treat a woman and how to judge one too. A smile crossed his face as he wondered what mom would think about Bobby...he figured she'd like her a lot.

"What did you think of the band," she asked now that the noise was back down to talking volume.

"They did a good job, I enjoyed their set. Nothing ground breaking, but they opened for Jimi Hendrix. So it sure ain't amateur night in Baton Rouge. How about you, you like 'em?"

"I like you assessment, it mirrors mine. Did the equipment seem a little funky to you?"

"Yeah, they're having some problems for sure. Bummer, hope it doesn't take away from Jimi's set," Kris replied.

"Yeah, that'd be a bummer. But, if it does maybe we'll catch up to him out in California someday," she said.

"That'd be really nice, I think we'd get a completely different vibe if we were out there tonight. When you planning to head out there?" He didn't say anything about the way she had unconsciously included him in her plans for California. It both puzzled and pleased him, and he wondered if she did it intentionally to gauge his reaction.

"I'm footloose and free. I could pack up a be gone by tomorrow if the mood hit. But I don't see myself hanging 'round here much longer," she replied.

"Well, I'll be heading out in the morning early. Your welcome to come along if you're ready to split this scene," he said just to put the idea on the table.

"Hmm, that's a pretty tempting offer Kris. But how in the world could I throw myself at the mercy of a stranger? For all I know you're an axe murderer," she said with a laugh.

"The thing most folks don't appreciate about an axe murder is the fact they are usually very proficient in their chosen hobby. A good axe murderer can send you off to heaven so quick you won't even know you left home until you see the pearly gates," he countered.

"Well, when you put it that way, maybe it's not that big of a risk after all. I'll have to think about it," she said.

"We've got all night for you to think on it. But in all seriousness, I'm open for the company and it would be best if you either took a bus or train out there instead of hitchhiking alone. You know as well as I do, there's a lot of open road out there and more than a few bad hombres. I've been on the road for years, trust me when I say; don't get too cocky about being out there all alone," Kris told her. He figured she knew all of that, but couldn't take the chance she was naive, she was just too precious to be sacrificed like that.

"We've got all night to decide, right?"

"Yep, all night. But if we're going together and we want to hop a train, that's going to be a short night because I've found it's much better to get to the rail yards before daylight and get settled in. Which reminds me, you wouldn't happen to know where the main rail yard is?"

"Man, you're no fake are you Kris."

"I try not to be. I've found it's easier just being me," he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"The main station is just north of here a few more miles. It's right on the river. You're really serious aren't you?"

"About trains? Of course, lot's of folks travel the rails. You kind'a need to know some of the unofficial rules, but for the most part I like it. If you get there early in the mornings when the crews are building up the trains, they'll usually point you to the right one. It's more laid back than one might imagine," he told her.