Friday Feature & Giveaway: The Plan by Whitney Dineen

The band starts driving a rhythm which almost brings down the house. Gizzy yells to be heard over the roaring crowd, “This here is called ‘Runnin’ Down a Dream’ by Mr. Tom Petty.” Then he motions to our side of the stage and introduces, “And this here is my best friend and co-dreamer, Huck Wiley.”

Over seventeen thousand people scream in sheer ecstasy that Huck is going to perform tonight. I don’t think I know seventeen people who be more than marginally happy to see me. Yet, the excitement these folks are experiencing transcends all words. If they’re feeling a fraction of what I’m feeling, it’s a high no drug could ever match. I have never witnessed such a scene, and I expect I never will again.

Maggie is jumping up and down beside me like she’s got springs in her shoes, but I stand riveted to the ground in awe of the sheer power these two men possess.

Three women from the front row charge the stage but are held back by security as Huck picks up his guitar and joins his friend. They perform the whole song while the crowd dances and sings along, celebrating this moment in time. The band plays song after song together, some Gizzy’s and some Huck’s. Their voices are gritty and rough while at the same time melodious and full of emotion.

I feel like I’m in an alternate universe where everyone is pure energy. There are no boundaries holding us in. We’re like one massive heart, beating together in a giant expression of joy. The sheer intensity of this experience is life-altering for me. I’m not afraid of the crowd. If anything, I’m feeding off of their exuberance.

After a bunch of songs, Huck runs offstage and takes a water bottle that Maggie hands to him. His chest is heaving and he’s dripping with sweat. He drinks the whole thing down in one gulp. Then he picks up his daughter and kisses her on the forehead before putting her back on her feet.

Then he turns to me.

Huck Wiley kisses me like I’m the air and he’s been underwater for five days. He consumes me and I let him. I couldn’t tell you what day of the week it is or what planet I’m on. All I know is that my essence leaves my body to mingle with his. It is the best, most intoxicating experience in the whole wide world.

I vaguely hear Gizzy say, “If Huck would come back on stage and quit kissing the beautiful Amelia, we could keep this concert going.” The crowd screams their approval and the sound forces my eyes to open. I follow the gaze of the audience. Huck and I are the focus of all three Jumbotrons, visible to every single one of the seventeen thousand fans inhabiting this building. I push him on stage and take a giant step back to remove myself from view.

The concert could have lasted two hours or two days, I can’t tell which. All I know is that my head is spinning. Never in a million years could I have ever imagined a night like tonight. There’s no way Creek Water, Missouri can prepare a girl for the magnitude of a rock star’s life.

The band performs seven encores, once again taking turns between Gizzy’s songs and Huck’s. On the last one, Gizzy says, “Okay folks, this is it. We’re going out the same way we came in.” They play “Runnin’ Down a Dream” one more time.

This night is a dream. I could pinch myself until I was black and blue to verify the reality of it, but it can’t be real. There’s no way. How does Huck do this night after night for weeks on end with only a few short months before doing it all over again? How can he survive the avalanche of adoration that’s heaved upon him?