At quarter past nine, a South Pacific freight train barreled through town, the rumble shaking even the Grange Hall three blocks from the track, and the sound of the train temporarily drowned out the band. Not knowing how long the train would interfere with their performance, the band continued, and they were halfway through the next number before the sound of the train faded into memory.
Just after nine-thirty, Wanda returned to the stage, leaned against Sonny, and whispered in his ear. “Carter’s been shot.”
Then she smiled at the audience and took her place behind the microphone. Without missing a beat, Sonny counted down the next tune, and Wanda mesmerized the audience once again.
When they finished the number, Sonny announced a short break, took Wanda’s elbow, and escorted her off st
