Springer Fiction: Hanukkah ’08

Springer stuck his hands in his pockets and wished for a smoke. He was out, though, dead broke — for a change. But it was worth it. Another year at the Musical Hanukkah Celebration, even if he hadn’t won the lottery this year. Can’t win what you don’t enter, Springer had told his girl, then pointed out that if she’d pay for things when they go out, maybe he would have been able to afford it.

She’d gotten all snotty about it. For a change.

Springer decided that overall, he didn’t miss cigarettes. Except for times like this, when he was waiting around outside The Rocket Theater, him and a bunch of other ShapeShifter fans, hoping to see the band when they showed up. He was bored. Smoking would give him something to do.

His girl sure wouldn’t give him something to do. As soon as she started pulling the diva routine, bitching about how they never went anywhere because Springer had no money, he tuned her out and wished she was gone.

There were some wishes Springer could make come true, all on his own. And they didn’t involve money, either.

A new, better girl was sure to appear. From somewhere. Right then, Springer didn’t much care. All he wanted was to maybe see Eric, see if the guitarist recognized him from that day at Gus’ Guitars. After all, Eric had remembered him then from last year’s Musical Hanukkah. It could happen.

He’d been looking for a limo carrying all the ShapeShifter guys, so he didn’t pay attention to the red Audi when it pulled in. No one gathered there did, really. No one in ShapeShifter drove a red Audi. Mitchell had the new Durango, Daniel had a Jaguar, Eric drove an Acura, and Trevor still had his bike.

Ten minutes later, none of those cars had appeared, but Eric came out the stage door, blinking at the light of outside like he’d been in the dark theater for awhile.

Springer stared, his mouth falling open a bit, his brain racing. When? How?

“Who has tickets for tonight?” the guitarist asked.

Without him telling it to, Springer’s arm went up. So did three others — one girl, dressed in faded jeans covered in ballpoint drawings, and two guys who were the usual black t-shirts under their flannels.

“You four, then, c’mon,” Eric said and motioned them forward.

Security appeared out of nowhere and made a line between the four of them and the rest of the group.

“Well, this is one way to get in without waiting in line,” the girl chuckled. Springer liked her; she had a flat, open face and yellow-blonde hair. Freckles over her nose and spreading across her cheeks under her eyes. She wore one earring in the lobe of her ear, a ShapeShifter dragon S. Springer knew those earrings; the band had sold them through the fan club. She had more piercings in the cartiledge of her ear, and wore an ear cuff that at first looked like a dragon.

He peered closer. She blushed and covered it with her hand, pulling it off. “I shouldn’t… not here,” she said.

But he’d seen. A naked man, quite obviously showing off her favorite part of a guy.

“Okay,” Eric said when they were inside. He’d walked them across the stage, where Springer had reached out and touched the edge of Daniel’s drum riser, and down a flight of stairs. They were now in some small room. One of those candle things sat on the table, in front of a deli tray that hadn’t been touched. “This is Daniel’s doing, so let me get him. Wait here.”

“Can we eat?” one of the other guys called out.

“Not yet!” Eric yelled over his shoulder.

In a second, Eric came back in with the famous drummer.

Springer licked his lips and told himself that passing out would not be cool.

The girl touched his hand. He looked at her; the gleam in her eyes said she was thinking and feeling the same things he was.

“Here’s the deal,” Daniel said, pushing some of his hair behind his ear. Just as fast, he shook his head so the hair fell free. It was as common a gesture as any Springer had ever seen; the guy did it almost constantly. “You heard about the recent terror attacks in India, right?”

Springer joined the others in nodding, even though he barely knew about them. Just that there’d been attacks and people had died. It sucked, but then, so did most things.

“There’s a group of ultra-Orthodox Jews, from the group whose rabbi was killed in those attacks, who’re calling for us to join with strangers and share the light and hope of Hanukkah.”

Springer wondered how this affected him.

Eric stepped to the table and picked up a book of matches. Daniel stepped back and motioned to the four fans to come closer.

Striking the match, Eric read something unintelligible from a piece of paper between the candle thing and the deli tray. He touched the match to the middle candle, then the two on the left of the candle thing.

“There,” he said, letting out a deep breath. “I hope I did it right, but if not, God knows my intentions are good.” He looked at the four fans. “You guys can dig in here and go on up to grab places on the floor. The doors’ll be open in about forty-five minutes. Oh, here. You should have these,” he said, pulling backstage passes out of his back pocket. He handed one to each fan. “Don’t try to get in our dressing room, though. Security won’t let you.”

As he handed a pass to Springer, he paused. “I keep seeing you around. What’s your name again?”

“Springer.” He was glad his tongue wasn’t taking off like it did the last time. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel like he had a second head or something; it was hard to stand here and be cool in front of your hero.

“Springer. Good name. Hey, will you make sure your friends here don’t knock over the candles? It’d be bad news if we burned this place down.”

“I’ll send someone in to get them out of here,” Daniel said. He leaned around Eric and extended a hand to Springer. “Nice to meet you and thanks for keeping an eye on things for us.”

They were gone fast like that. It felt like the air returned to the room and Springer could think and breathe again. The two guys were busy digging into the deli tray, but the girl was looking at Springer. “How cool was that?”

“How cool is all of it?”

“I’m Trinity.”

“I’m Springer.” He blushed. “I bet you figured that.”

“Eric knows you.”

Springer bobbed his head. “Seems to.”

“I need to hang around you more often.”

He could feel the blush spread down his throat. “We’ve got all night.”

And so the Hanukkah Celebration begins here at the Meet and Greet. If you’d like to know what this experience Springer last had with Eric was, go here. Remember that by buying a copy of The Demo Tapes or the Hanukkah T-shirt at the merchandise table, you’ll be helping make a real-life donation to the Mr. Holland’s Opus Foundation. And while we’re speaking of real life, Eric’s comment about the Chabad House’s invitation to everyone to join in the hope of the Hanukkah season by helping Jewish friends in the nightly candle lighting… that’s very real. Forget about the presents, forget about the decorations and hustle and bustle and remember the hope that this season brings with it. Happy Hanukkah, everyone.