At My Window with a Broken Wing
At My Window with a Broken Wing
Author Ric Wasley
It was a warm afternoon in late October of 1966 when our van pulled onto the main campus of Ohio State.
It had rained the night before, and leaves still plastered the edges of the road leading to the main campus. I rolled down the van’s passenger window all the way and took a deep breath. Yeah, there it was—the ‘fall’ smell. That smell of leaves mixed with old grass clippings and new hopes. Summer romances had faded away, and new college romances were just beginning. Everyone was psyched for something. It was a time of meeting, flirting, and leaning back against a big oak tree with a soft cheek next to yours.
At My Window with a Broken Wing
Author Ric Wasley
It was a warm afternoon in late October of 1966 when our van pulled onto the main campus of Ohio State.
It had rained the night before, and leaves still plastered the edges of the road leading to the main campus. I rolled down the van’s passenger window all the way and took a deep breath. Yeah, there it was—the ‘fall’ smell. That smell of leaves mixed with old grass clippings and new hopes. Summer romances had faded away, and new college romances were just beginning. Everyone was psyched for something. It was a time of meeting, flirting, and leaning back against a big oak tree with a soft cheek next to yours.
It was a time for talking and laughing for hours about nothing.
We were due to play a concert on the ‘big event’ stage tonight but since we were just an opening band for the big draw names, we didn’t rate space on the tour bus. But that was okay. Our manager/agent/record producer, Marty, had filled out our down time with a gig at some mixer in the student union, followed by the big deal concert where our main job was to “warm up the crowd” and get them out of their seats before the big name bands came on. And to make the hundred mile trek from the University of Kentucky to OSU worth our “valuable time” (and Marty’s investment in gas money for the van), he had filled out the remainder of this fall Saturday night with a “Kegger” at the SAE house. Whatever. The money was decent, and the beer was free. And best of all, according to our perpetually sloshed and eternally horny lead guitar player, Fritz, OSU had a “babe” rating of 8.5 according to the latest college campus poll in Playboy, Esquire, or whatever fantasy magazine Fritz currently had stuffed in his sleeping bag in the back of Marty’s band bus.
The van slowed to a stop as the main road split into two forks.
“Which way, Marty?” drawled Bear, our big bearded bass player from the hills of
Hazard County.
Marty mumbled something and peered myopically at a Xeroxed map of the OSU
Campus. He stroked one of his double chins, trying to translate the smudged black
squiggles on the map into the massive stone buildings in front of us.
I leaned over and gently took the map out of Marty’s hand. I turned it around and
handed it back to him. “You’ve got it upside down, Marty.”
He gave me a dirty look as if he’d known that the whole the time and was only testing
us. He laid it out on the van dashboard and stared at a complex of buildings just ahead
of us. Suddenly, he smiled and pointed. “There!” he said triumphantly.
A small signboard stuck in the ground next to a large gray building read: STUDENT
CENTER.
We had arrived.
Finish this story at…http://www.wildchildpublishing.com/mainstreet/brokenwing.html
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Ric Wasley is also the author of the popular McCarthy Mystery Series set in Boston in 1968. Of the five book series, The Scrimshaw, the third in the McCarthy Mystery Series, was released from Wild Child Publishing in late 2008. In addition to the first two McCarthy Mysteries; Shadow of Innocence and Acid Test, Ric has also authored the novella, At my Window with a Broken Wing, and two short stories; Embers and The Night. Plus a brand new story that will appear in the anthology, Weirdly Vol. 3, due out in 2009 - Long Black Veil.
Just like Mick in his McCarthy Mysteries Series, Ric thrived on music in the sixties and performed as a folksinger and in several rock bands all over New England. He played regularly in the Harvard Sq. folk music clubs in the late 60’s where he met music legends such as Bob Dylan and Joan Baez.
Wasley has been involved in both print and broadcast media as well as writing for business and commercial markets for over 30 years. In addition to his novels and short stories, he has been published in several literary magazines in L.A. and San Francisco while living in California. Wasley currently lives in a Boston Metro-West community with his wife and three children, works for a major media company and retains his love of music and writing.