Playing by Ear
Copyright© 2021 by Lumpy
Chapter 23
I was exhausted when Chef picked me up the next morning. We’d gotten home extremely late from the dance and Rhonda had been all over me when I walked her to her door. She got a little too enthusiastic, considering where we were, and we got the porch light flashed at us in warning.
Even once I got home, I was so keyed up it took more than an hour before I could get to sleep. Of course, I’d absolutely do it all again, no matter how tired I was today. Chef, of course, noticed and made a bunch of digs in the morning, knowing we’d been at the dance the night before. Which didn’t mean he took it easy on me. If anything, he went the other way, explaining that part of the preparation for responsibilities was getting enough rest to perform at a hundred percent, even if I had a good reason.
He then regaled me with stories that his dad had told him about living at the Buddhist temples, training with the other monks when he was a teenager. I’m not sure if he was exaggerating or his dad had exaggerated when he told Chef these stories, but someone had to be building the tales up. I couldn’t imagine the hardcore way he made growing up with the monks sound. Hours meditating while standing in horse stance sounded like pure torture. It was one of the exercises Chef gave me, although I only did it for a few minutes at a time, to keep from hurting my foot. You stand with your feet pointed forward, shoulder-width apart and sit, so your thighs make a right angle with your lower leg, and your butt is even with your thighs. If done right, you looked like a bracket pointing towards the ground. Apparently, I had never done it right, however, since I always got disapproving mutters from Chef when he made me do it. Even for a few minutes, all of your weight on your thighs and knees hurt, with the muscles in your legs and lower back starting to burn almost as soon as you went into it.
Chef explained that, after about ten minutes, it stopped being a physical challenge and became one of the mind; where you pushed past the pain into a meditative stance. I had yet to master just holding the stance without slowly raising up to relieve pressure on my legs.
Considering how he kept telling me how easy he was taking it on me because of my foot, I was afraid of what he’d make me do once the boot was off. When we finished up the afternoon exercises, Chef told me to come back down after my shower, that he needed to talk to me.
That was unusual, since normally once we finished training he’d go in to get the final things ready for the dinner rush, basically leaving me to my own devices for the rest of the evening until it was time to start playing. The schedule change made me nervous, not that I expected anything bad from Chef. I had just found that, at least so far, unexpected surprises were not always good.
He pulled me into the storage room as soon as I was back down in the kitchen. To my surprise, Willie was already there, waiting on us, instead of out on his chair on the porch.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I sat down on a bag of flour. “I feel like I’ve been called to the principal’s office, again.”
Chef gave me a look at that, I guessed he was trying to pass the message that he still wasn’t thrilled I’d managed to get suspended from school. While I appreciated him looking out for me, I had to admit I didn’t love having another set of adults holding my mistakes over my head.
“No,” Willie said, missing the byplay. “While I love playin’ here at the club, it isn’t my main source of income. Every year in the fall I go on tour, traveling to bars and clubs across the south as a guest performer. I actually make the bulk of my annual income in these three months, since I’ve built up a following who show up to see me play when I’m in town.”
“Okay,” I said, unsure of where this was going.
“Normally,” he continued, “I just play with the house bands at these other places, and the rest of the guys stay here and cover for me. It gives our audience a bit of a change from what they get the rest of the year. Now, of course, things are a little different since we’ve turned half of Saturday nights over to you. I’ve been talkin’ to Chef, and we’ve already been discussin’ what to do about our current music schedule, since you’re still bringing out new people every weekend, and we’re already at capacity.”
“Okay,” I said again, still not sure what they were getting at.
“Originally,” Chef said, taking over, “I’d thought we’d try and expand our music nights, having Willie play Friday and Sundays and you take over Saturday’s entirely. Then he reminded me it was time for him to begin touring again, which makes shaking things up a little easier.”
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
“The plan, if you agree, is in two parts,” Willie said. “First, some of the local clubs I visit, down in Asheville and one up north a bit, have heard rumors about how well things are goin’ here, and asked if I could bring you. If you’re up to it, I was gonna to see if you wanted to go with me on the first few nights of my tour. I know you’ve got school, so Sundays are hard, but I could work out deals for you to come with me on Saturday nights. I’d make sure you got to the gig and back home that night, although it’d be pretty late. It would pay better than what you make here, since we’d be special guests, and you’d get some experience playin’ in different environments.”
“What about Chef? I don’t want to leave him without help, since he moved people around so I could work on Saturday mornings. I can’t go off touring with you if it meant I was failing my other responsibilities.”
“While I’m happy to hear you take your responsibility so seriously, in this case Willie has already talked to me, and I’ve worked out some alternative options. Honestly, if we moved you to playing the full Saturday nights, you would have probably needed to stop working Saturday mornings anyway. I’ll be honest with you, Charlie, while you’ve been a helpful in the kitchen, I think everybody makes out better with you up on the stage, instead. You’re a hard worker, but your real talent lies up there. I can find other people to work in the kitchen, but I’m not sure I could find someone else who’d make us the kind of money you’ve been making. I’ve already talked to Willie about figuring out a way for you to stop working in the kitchens all together, and just play.”
“What about Willie and everyone else? If I start playing every night, won’t your regulars be angry they aren’t getting the kind of music they like?”
“We wouldn’t switch to your style of music entirely,” Willie said. “We’d still do blues on Sundays and modern music on Saturdays, and we’d see what the crowds were for Fridays before we decided what to do there. I’d be just part of the band on nights you lead, and vice versa. I’ve already talked to the guys, and they’re on board, which isn’t surprisin’ since everyone is making more money now than we have in years.”
“What about...” I started to say, before Chef held up his hand.
“Charlie, I know you have a good heart and care about what happens to other people, but in this instance, I’m telling you, don’t. We’ve already looked at the details. Don’t worry about how this decision affects anyone else. What do you want to do?”
“I want to play music,” I said without hesitation.
“I thought that might be your answer,” Chef said.
“If I go play with Willie, what happens on those nights? And if Willie’s off playing further out of town where I can’t go with him, what happens then?”
“On the weekends you play with Willie, we’ll flip the schedule. You’ll play here Sunday nights, and the rest of the house band, minus Willie, will play his normal set on Saturdays. We’ll make sure to put the word out to keep people from accidentally coming to the wrong night. On weekend nights when Willie is out of town, you’ll play your music on Saturdays, and blues on Sundays, leading the band both nights. Of course, because music keeps going long after you have to call it a night either way, there will be a second set focusing on blues after you have to go home. We’ll probably end up extending the first set, so it ends when you have to finish up. We’ll either shorten up the second set or let music time go an hour later, although I’m not sure we have the crowd to sustain it until after midnight.”
“Hold on,” I said. “It’s one thing to take the front spot, and it’s another entirely to lead the band. Sure, I’m doing okay now, but I have Willie there with me. He’s making all the decisions; I’m just up there having fun. I can’t lead the band! I’d have no idea what I was doing. Besides, those guys are all fifty years older than me. They’re not going to stand for me stepping in and taking one of their jobs away from them.”
“Charlie, we’ve already talked to everyone,” Willie said. “We all think you can handle this. It’ll be rough at first, but that’s true for anyone their first time up. I’ve watched you, and you’re a natural. You’re good at watching the rest of the band and makin’ sure everyone’s on tempo, you’re good with workin’ the crowd, and you’re getting a good feel for how to adjust to the mood of the audience.”
“Everyone else is on board,” Chef said. “Honestly, they’re excited by it. This isn’t a knock on Willie, but we haven’t had crowds like this since we started doing music here. Some might say it’s just because of the change of pace, but we all agree it’s more than that. Everyone can feel something great is happening.”
“I ... I mean, I guess I’d be an idiot to pass this up,” I said. “I’ll be honest, I’m kinda terrified, but if everyone else is okay with it, I am too.”
“Great,” Chef said.
“Think of this as a trial run,” Willie said. “Tonight, I’m gonna sit back and let you take the lead. You’ll call the sets, and the band will look to you for their cues. If you run into any problems, I’ll be right here to help you out.”
“We’ll start putting the word out about the schedule change. Next week, instead of working in the kitchen, you’ll play on Friday night and Sunday night. I’ll make sure it ends early on Sunday, so you can get home at the same time as you would if you still worked in the kitchens. Saturday, the house band will play without either of you. You don’t have to come in to work during the day, although I’d still like you to come by for training.”
“Sure, I don’t want to miss that anyway.”
“I’ll make sure you have a ride. Bring your stuff and you can go from here with Willie to the gig.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling a strange combination of excited and terrified all at once.
That night, Willie did exactly what he said. I had to do everything he normally did. It was eye-opening. I screwed up a few times, but the audience rolled with it. Maybe they didn’t notice, since it was small things like missing a section change in a song, getting a little off tempo with the drummer, and once calling the wrong song, making everyone else scramble to adjust.
Once it got going, the rough edges smoothed out. The thing I found surprising was when I realized I actually did know how to do it already. I’d already been listening to the rest of the band, to make sure I worked with the drummer to hold a steady rhythm and that everyone was together. I’d also been calling the songs for a few weeks without any issues. The only new part was signaling solos and section changes. I’d watched Willie do it numerous times, since I sometimes had to play one of the solos, so it wasn’t completely foreign to me.
I think the main part that gave me trouble was just my nerves. By the time we finished up and said our final goodnight, I felt confident I could handle it, although I did expect to have another case of the nerves Friday night. It was one thing to take the reins when Willie was sitting behind me, and a totally different thing when he wasn’t there. I knew I’d work it out, though.
I was also excited and nervous about traveling with Willie. I’d watched my dad play in a lot of random clubs and bars over the year, but this would be the first time I would be doing it. Playing at the Blue Ridge was one thing. I was comfortable there. It felt like home. It was a little terrifying to think about giving up the security of a familiar setting. At least I’d be with Willie and we’d be doing his music.
I was wiped out, and went straight to sleep, although I knew I needed to talk to Mom in the morning and get permission. Considering I was already on thin ice because of the parent-teacher conference coming up on Monday and considering how she still felt about following in Dad’s footsteps, it was still far from a sure thing that she’d agree. The only reason I didn’t feel hopeless, besides my exhaustion, was that she’d been more open to my playing when we’d talked the other day, despite the issues I had at school.
Mom and I got home around the same time, which was starting to happen more often. While she worked late on weekends, I was also drawing out how long I stayed at the Blue Ridge. Although I loved leading the band during my set, I also really enjoyed just stepping back and focusing on playing. Singing, playing guitar, watching both the audience and the rest of the band, was a lot to focus on. When Willie took the lead during the second set I didn’t have to worry about it. I could just play, which really was the thing I loved the most. So, I pushed my time as far as Hanna would let me.
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