Ford Mustang, Kurt Cobain, Elise Lotus, Elan Lotus, Janis Joplin.
After failing to bring Jimi and his contractor to his boss, Ford is given a second (and possibly last) chance to prove himself. This is how he found himself in the middle of the Texan heat on Janis Joplin's tracks.
Ford never thought he could experience such a heat in his twenty three years of existence, yet that was the first thing that greeted him once he set foot on Texan land.
“How long until we reach Port Arthur?” Kurt said, unbothered by the heat thanks to his immaterial form, as if he was on a trip to the grocery store. Part of Ford envied him for it, but he knew he wasn't ready nor willing to pay the price for it yet.
“We’re still in Amarillo," Ford replied, his face almost melting off his skull which he could get no cold amount of cold air on despite the open window. “They were not kidding when they said that one could be driving nine hours and still be in Texas.”
“Don't you think it's weird?” Kurt suddenly asked him as he was staring at the passing colza fields.
“What is it, buddy?” Ford asked, curious to what Kurt had to say, knowing he rarely voiced his concerns or thoughts.
“Janis hated Port Arthur but still chose to remain there after her death?” his mentor, now turned friend, continued.
“We gotta start somewhere,” Ford replied, "maybe her contractor is a fan from her home town, kind of like you and me?”
The older man did not reply, instead he looked over his younger companion's shoulder, who was looking at his phone.
“Maybe, are you, erm, browsing online, like you did for Jimi?” he asked, still struggling with the new vocabulary that emerged with the technology that he missed after his death.
“Nothing yet,” he sighed in frustration. I keep looking, did nobody think of recording such an important moment as the rebirth of Janis Joplin performing live?!”
“Maybe not everything needs to be recorded,” Kurt replied, “with such a sight, I would have forgotten to record too.”
“Well it's definitely making our mission harder.” Ford sighed before switching his attention back to the passing fields, pocketing the small device back in his bag.
They finally reached Port Arthur after what felt like an eternity, a classic seaside industrial town welcomed them. The very town that saw the birth of the Queen of the Blues. Upon arrival it felt unreal, for a town as banal as this to give birth to such a force of nature.
It was already sunset when the cab driver got him off in front of the hotel he would be staying at. He quickly set off to town as soon as he put down his luggage in his room. The sting of his newly acquired fishing bait earring was still fresh and occasionally reminded him of the price he might have to face if he failed his mission.
“You’re already heading out ?” Kurt asked him, taking the attention away from the cat he was petting.
“I want to go around the city first,” Ford turned to him, the anxiety and the long hours of travel made him walk faster than his tired legs would have normally allowed him to.
Streets were still quite busy, though they started to empty as darkness fell over the city.
They checked every bar, every music club, or any cafés that had small musicians perform for a humble audience. Nothing. There was no trace whatsoever of Janis Lynn Joplin.
Ford’s tendency to over drink quickly took over, fueled by his anxiety and dread of possibly going back to his boss empty handed. Lights, colours, and shapes all blended together in a palette of chaos, despair and fragmented memories, before coming back to the colour black. Escorted by security, or thrown out by a particularly angry and exasperated Texan who was more than tired of Ford’s incessant questions, Ford always found himself permanently banned from whatever place he entered. Soon, he was blacklisted from every club, every bar, every live house, every café in the city.
“We got kicked out again, haven't we?” Ford asked, as he slowly got hold of his surroundings. There was darkness, dirt, cold concrete and the noseating smell of the nearby garbage, which was aggravated by the southern summer heat, even at night.
“Correction”, his buddy responded, “you drank too much again, caused a ruckus while we were playing, got beaten up, then we got kicked out.”
Any attempt to re-enter any building that offered musical performances was met with immediate refusal. He seemed to have gotten quite a reputation for being a party pooper, so the word for a drunk blond boy with a guitar ranting about blues and long gone musical figures made him a local legend, which was not the kind he was hoping to become.
On the fifth day, what little hope that was left in him was now completely gone. He walked around the dimly lit streets of Port Arthur, limping from yet another failure to get ahold of any clue of the lady known as Pearl. His heart was lost like a boat that was barely making it through the deadly waves, desperately fighting against the currents but to no avail. The thought of going back once again bearing no fruits made his stomach curl with fear. Despair clouded his vision as he desperately carried himself across the small alleyways, as he once again felt the need to puke.
It was then when he found it. Dimly lit by the neighbouring street lights, the young man came across a small diner that stood like a lighthouse in the middle of the stormy sea that was his heart. Had he not been beaten up by the events of the day, he would have perhaps never noticed it. Something about that place reassured him. It felt like a safe haven, but could not put his finger on why or how. He decided that he was drunk enough anyway, but he was not hungry either because of his churning stomach, yet he clung to that feeling of temporary safety like a lifeline keeping him afloat.
As he made his entrance into the humble building, he was immediately greeted by a variety of smells, cozy and homely, reminding him of distant childhood memories he forgot he thought he had buried a long time ago. The place was nearly empty at that time of the night, save for three tables, two of them by lonesome dwellers such as himself hunched over their respective meals, while the third one was taken by a mother of her child, silently sketching with a couple of coloured pencils.
“Welcome to Peter's diner, ho- oh lord, you're all bruised up!” The only waitress approached to greet him but suddenly stopped at the sight of what remained of his face. “You might need médical attention before a hot meal, don't you think?”
“I'm fine!” he said abruptly, to which he immediately felt ashamed by his sudden outburst and under Kurt's glare, he apologised.
“Sorry,” he mumbled barely above a whisper while averting his gaze, “it's been a long day, and I'm really hungry.”
“Then you came to the right place,” the young woman replied. “I'll get you the meal of the day, it's not magic but it'll definitely do you good, you'll tell me what you think of it!” she winked. It was only then that he managed to take a quick but close glance at the face under the cap, before she left him standing awkwardly among the tables.
“Take any seat you want," she turned to him, "I'll be back to take your order!” She said as she trotted away back to her work.
It was as if the sun had smiled at him.
Taking a seat in front of the window, Ford wondered whether he should just give up and live here, it was not so bad after all. Maybe he did not have to come back to the manager.
He watched her go over the tables, taking orders before disappearing into the kitchen. Shiori’s words about her own blues came back to his mind. What if he just quit and followed his own?
Wishful thinking about what could never be came to him, finding love, settling down with a dog, or two, with maybe a cat. The waitress’ face came to him while he was daydreaming, which he quickly chased away, hoping Kurt would not notice him blushing.
“FORD SHELBY MUSTANG!” Kurt's sudden increase of his voice and hearing of his last full name, middle name included, got him out of his reverie with a very unmanly squeal.
“What is it?” He asked, his heart still beating from both suprise and embarrassment.
“Look!” he pointed to the third table, in which sat the mother and child. He squinted despite his dizzy head and his black eye.
Sat right behind them, was a woman with golden locks, pink framed glasses, hovered over a sketchbook, with her non dominant hand holding a cigarette. She was humming along to the tunes of the radio. That raspy voice, only one woman in the world had it, and it was the person he was so desperately looking for. It was as if she was from another epoch, a time traveler that was stuck in a time loop that had inadvertently found herself in the twenty-first century, yet still was trying to make the best of it and capture the fading moment with her pencils. The little girl he once thought was her daughter could have been her contractor, but Ford decided to check for himself, after all kids were able to see Kurt and often played with stray cats with him.
It felt like a dream. Him and the Queen of Blues were existing in the same microcosm, breathing the same air, smelling the same things as him, and being lit by the same white neon light. Without even realising his actions, Ford stood up and limped his way towards the first beacon of hope he saw since he set foot in the city of Port Arthur, Texas.
“I have finally found you,” he said, voice shaking, he felt like he was about to cry, he must sound like a madman. “You have no idea of the trouble I went through before I finally met you.”
Janis lifted her eyes to meet his, they were what they expected to be, baby blue, intelligent with a tint of curiosity and love behind the pink tinted glasses, which at the moment looked very confused that someone could be able to spot her. It was normal after all, Ford assumed he was not in his most glorious looks at the moment.
She stood up, her body language clearly conveying her suspicions, yet, shooting him a glare.
“Jan-” he called out, before her felt a blow hit the back of his head that came with a metallic taste on his tongue.
The next thing he saw and felt was the contact of the warm floor. He did not ever hear the flow of insults that came over him because of the ringing of his ears. The person responsible for his additional injuries and why hé was on the wooden floor was the same waitress that invited herself into his daydreams a few minutes ago. He only knew that because she faced him as she lifted him from the collar of his t-shirt.
“What. The. Fuck. Do. Want. From. Her?” The same warm golden eyes turned darker, her pupils smaller like a predator, Ford realised she was seeing red, and it was very likely because of him.
That was only then that, from the corner of his good eye, he saw a little girl that looked very much like the beast that was manhandling him like he weighed nothing. Her big brown eyes reflected a mixture of fear, confusion, and slight curiosity.
Meanwhile Janis protectively came between him and the little girl, face as angry as the woman, now he understood was her older sister, who slammed him against the nearby wall, asking him the same questions again. A small crowd formed around them, neither of the bystanders brave enough to take over the young woman that clearly got him under control.
That was finally when everything clicked. How did he not think of that.
“Oh no, no, no, no, that's now what you think,” he tried to articulate through his aching face muscles. Yet, nothing could stop the protective instincts of an older sister.
Kurt tried to intervene, completely forgetting about his immaterial form before desperately turning to Janis, who still had her arms around the little girl. He saw his mouth open, close, then open again.
“We mean no harm! He finally said, “we just want to talk!” Unfortunately that plea to settle things up verbally fell on deaf ears, as only Janis was able to see him, and who most definitely did not know him, while neither of them was sure who the contractor was.
“Answer me, you creep!” The woman, who according to her name tag, was named Elise, yelled again, bringing her hand into a fist, while the other one was still holding him against the wall.
Ford just shut his eyes closed, bracing himself for the impact, before he felt the woman's grip loosen. Upon opening them, he saw a small hand holding the waitress’ arm.
“Kurt?…Kurt Cobain? the little girl, who managed to wiggle her way out of Janis’ arms finally said, cutting through the thick silence.
“I'm shorry for fweaking you out,” Ford had his head down, holding a bag of ice to his aching jaw, which he felt was beginning to swell.
“It's fine, " said the waitress, now introduced as Elise. “I'm sorry I kind of freaked out and attacked without asking for an explanation first.”
“I'm sorry for the misunderstanding,” Janis apologised as well. “I just wasn't expecting to find another crossover.”
“It's okay, you were both only trying to protect the little one, I have a daughter, I completely understand” Kurt replied, which seemed to have comforted the older woman.
“You're lucky Elan recognized your buddy over here, it could have gone south real fast, ya know?” Janis said. “What are you boys after,” her tone was not as threatening but her eyes clearly stated otherwise.
“I was looking for you,” he said.
“You were looking for me?” she repeated.
“Yes, for the greatest event of the twenty-first century!” he announced, opening his arms wide, before the pain caught up, which got a small whimper out of him as he shrunk back while holding his aching limb.
“I think you gave him brain damage,” Elan leaned to whisper to her sister, who gave her a worried nod before resuming her attention back to the weird blond man.
“My point is,” he massages his aching muscles, “you're not the only crossover on the planet, there are a lot more, Brian Jones, Jim Morrison (a name to which Janis gave a disgusted look) , Kurt Cobain over here, and Jimi Hendrix.”
Janis' eyes twinkled behind her glasses. “Jimi, you say?”
“Yes, he's in Japan with his contractor. He said, I tried to get them to join a few months ago, but his contractor declined. That's why I need you, I want you to join us, the Twenty Seven Club, to bring the legends together, hopefully that will get Jimi to join.”
“Do I get to sing my heart's desire?” She asked.
“Hold on a second,” Elise suddenly cut him off, hitting the table with her fist, you keep talking about legends, and bands, greatest event of the century and whatnot, like you're talking about fantasy football!”
“Hey watch your mouth when you speak of those who wrote music history!” He snapped at her, momentally forgetting that she could and would kick his ass in a fight, like she just did five minutes ago.
“What’s fantasy football?” He heard Janis ask Kurt, who only shrugged his shoulders in response.
“This is my sister we're talking about, her future, she's just a child, and a sick one on top of that.” Her voice broke, she's the only person I have left,” Her past statement made his heart ache, that instantly made him regret his earlier tone.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, awkwardly but sincerely, “but I promise but you and your sister will be taken care of. “His voice softened, you have my word of honour.”
Elise said nothing, instead she turned to look worriedly at her sister, who remained silent since the beginning of the conversation.
“Look, Elan,” Janis leaned to face the little girl, a tone of voice significantly softer that the one Ford ever heard her speak with, it was motherly. “The decision is yours to take, you have your word in it too, whatever you say, I will always welcome it with broad arms.”
After a moment, where the empty eyes of the little girl made sign of no emotion, after taking a long look to both her sister and Janis, she finally spoke
“I accept,” her tone was a flat, emotionless tone. Ford wondered how such a young girl her age could show little to no emotion.
“You two won't have a thing to worry about.” he told her.
Elise’s gaze seemed to soften, her posture and features got less tense, the anger left her eyes to make place to the warmth. “Alright,” she said. “Give us time to gather our things.”
“Could you give me your contact, so we can arrange a meeting with my boss?” he asked, light pink creeping up to his face, which he attributed to the heat, even with the fan on. It was only then that he realised he had never gotten anyone's contact in a while, let alone a woman his age.
“Sure thing,” she said as she stood up, “I'll go get you something to eat first, it's on the house,” Ford did not think her smile could get any brighter.
“Please,” Ford mumbled, "eh, thank you, that's very sweet of you.”
“It's the least we can do,” he was surprised by Elan speaking next to him, especially after… you know, before gesturing to his bruised face.
Ford protested, he wanted to say something in return, before he heard Elise's voice rising in the kitchen.
“Oy! Boss! One plate of eggs and bacon with a cup of hot chocolate! Also, I quit!” her announcement echoing through the room.
“You got it, Lisette!” replied a voice with a very thick southern accent, who Ford assumed was the owner of the place. “Wait, what the fuck you mean you quit??!”
“Oi, quit swearing, my little sister is in here!” she scolded back, her accent taking a hint of the same accent as well.
“Ah, shit, sorry Elan!” Mr Peter yelled from the kitchen.
“It's okay, Mr Peter!” Élan yelled back, which, in the emptiness of the place, did not need a lot of it.
“Damn, your sister is a handful,” he whispers to his new bandmate.
“She is,” she confirmed, “you seem to like her though,” She remarked, in the same monotone tone, yet, Ford could clearly sense the mischief in it.
“NO! I mean yes! Wait not like that,” he tried to get out of the hole he kept digging himself in.
“Sure, buddy,” Elan replied, with a hint of a smile on her otherwise emotionless features.
“You did stare a little too much earlier,” Kurt added oil to the fire, definitely thrilled to have an ally that could tease him with.
“I don't have a crush on her!!!” He repeated, in half a whisper, praying that she did not hear their exchange.
“Oh come on, son,” Janis joined, which made them three on one, it was unfair.
“It's Ford,” he said, his face red from both anger and embarrassment.
“Alright, Ford,” she corrected herself, “love is a completely natural and beautiful thing, there isn't anything to be ashamed of, honey.”
“I’m. Not. In. Love. With. Her!” he screamed, this time he knew that Elise would not hear him over her own screaming match with her boss.
On his way back to the hotel, the world looked brighter, even in the dead of the night. Despite his aching muscles, he quickened the pace, not from anxiety this time, but from a mixture of excitement and hope.
“What?” He looked back at Kurt, who was looking at him with a face that clearly said ‘I know something you don't’.
“Nothing,” Kurt said with the same smug grin.
He hd accomplished his mission. A weight was lifted from his shoulders, despite the pain, he felt lighter, his heart giddy from the events of the night, despite the initial turn of the events.
Hey Kurt, how about we go to the sea? Ford suddenly announced.
