"Once More With Feelin'"

“Once More With Feelin’”

By John Smith

 

1.

Once More With Feelin’ Randy O’Brian wrote on a napkin as he sat alone a booth in Bucky’s Restraint.

            “Time to scoot honey! Bucky’s about to close up for the night!” A waitress said as she walked over to him. Randy looked up at her and smiled. She wasn’t particularly old, but she did look to be in her mid 40s. Her hair was long and in curls. It was black, but not naturally. She dyed it once a month. There was a golden nametag just over her left breast that read CINDY CROSS in black letters.

            “Thank you. I’m leaving.” He said as he pushed the napkin into his coat pocket and stood up from the booth. Randy reached down, grabbed his cup of tea, and drank the rest of it. He bent down and pickets up a case that held his trombone. The case was black and had a golden badge on the side that read YAMAHA CLASSIC Z.

            “Nice horn! You in a band handsome?” Cindy asked. Randy smiled and reached into his back pants pocket, pulled out a five-dollar bill, and handed it to her.

            “I can play a little bit. Here’s a little something for your trouble sweetheart.” He said. She smiled at him and shoved the five-dollar bill into her pocket. Randy picked up the trombone case and walked over to the door.

            “Maybe you can come back sometime and play me a song.” Cindy said. Randy turned around and smiled again.

            “We will see. Have a good night doll!” He said as he opened the door and walked out of it. To be honest, he wasn’t that great of a trombonist. He knew that well enough. But he was good enough to manage the third trombone part in a couple of local big bands. Randy looked around for a moment and placed the trombone down on the black top. He reached under his arm and placed on his hat and then picked up the trombone again walked away.

 

2.

Randy continued to walk through the city. He looked up at the black sky where there wasn’t a star in sight. Randy looked around him at the streets around him. There was nobody in sight except for the occasional newspaper blowing around in street. Randy paid no mind to it and kept walking.

            After a few moments he began to hear something. Randy stopped for a moment to listen. It was the sound of a trumpet playing some sort of jazz solo. He looked ahead and could see a man with his back leaning on a light post with his left leg bent behind him. He was a black man wearing a brown suite with a white button up shirt.

            “Hello?” Randy called out. The man stopped playing and turned to him and smiled.

            “Hi there Randy!” The man said. He pulled the trumpet away from his body and reached into his front shirt pocket to wipe the mouthpiece. Randy approached him and looked down at his trumpet. It was a Bach Stradivarius with the brass finish rubbed off of it. It made for a better jazz sound that way.

            “How do you know my name stranger?” Randy asked. The man smiled and extended his right arm. Randy paused for a moment and then grabbed his hand and shook.

            “The name is Glenn Charles. I run the Glenn Charles Orchestra.” The man said. “I’m sure you have heard of us.” He added. Randy thought for a moment and then shook his head.

            “No sir, I can’t say I have.” Randy said as he rest the base of his trombone case on the blacktop.

            “You from around here boy?” The man asked. Randy nodded.

            “Yes.” He replied.

            “What do you do for work buddy? I notice that you have an axe of your own there. Do you play in bands?” The man asked him.

            “I can play a little bit.” Randy replied. The man smiled and pointed down at the trombone case.

            “Get out your axe. Play me something’!” He said with a smile on his face.

            “No. No I couldn’t.” Randy said.

            “Come on! Play me something’!” The man said. Randy sighed. He knew he probably shouldn’t, but he placed the case down horizontal, opened it, and pulled out the trombone. Randy screwed the horn together and placed the mouthpiece into the mouthpiece adapter. He looked at the man who gave him a “go ahead” nod. Randy looked down at the horn and placed the mouthpiece up against his mouth and began to blow. The tone that came out of the horn was not terribly good. In fact, it seemed sort of airy. But it was good enough to be buried behind the other big band parts on third trombone. Randy pulled the trombone away from his face and looked at the man and shrugged.

            “Not bad kid! Not bad at all!” The man said. “How would you like to play lead trombone in the Glenn Charles Orchestra?” Glenn offered.

            “No, I don’t think that I could do a lead trombone part justice. I’m not that good anyway.” Randy said.

            “That’s not how I heard it. Play it again!” The man said.

            “What?” Randy asked confused.

            “Put the horn back up against your mouth and play it again!” He insisted again. Randy put the mouthpiece of the trombone back up to his mouth and played it again. For the first time, the tone was nearly perfect and Glenn danced to the jazzy sound that the horn produced. “Now that was damn good!” Glenn said to him.

            “Wow! I’ve never done that before!” Randy said. Glenn smiled at him as he patted him on the shoulder.

            “See! You are a fine trombonist! So how about it?” Glenn asked him.

            “How about what?” Randy asked as he gave Glenn a strange look.

            “How about playing lead for my band?” Glenn asked. Randy thought for a moment and then smiled. He knew the two had come to an agreement.

            “You know what Glenn? You got a deal!” Randy said. Glenn smiled without saying a word. He stuck out his right hand and moved it in a strange motion. A small funnel cloud began to form and a paper document seemed to appear out of thin air. Glenn handed Randy a razor blade.

            “What?” Randy asked.

            “You know what to do don’t you Randy?” Randy stared at him with a blank expression and then looked down at his index finger. He gently slid the razor blade across his finger and blood began to drip. Randy placed his finger on the document and signed RANDY O’BRIAN on it with blood where the X was marked.

            “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!” Glenn said as the contract rolled back up. “Hang on kid, you are in for a hell of a ride!” Glenn said as he laughed and snapped his fingers. Flames shot up from the ground as Glenn and Randy disappeared into the underworld.

Copyright 2014 by John Smith

Courtesy of The Enchanted Press

A division of TTP Entertainment

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Author's Note

It has been a good while. I hope you all like it!

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

"Once More With Feelin’ Randy O’Brian wrote on a napkin as he sat alone a booth in Bucky’s Restraint.(restaurant)
“Time to scoot honey! Bucky’s about to close up for the night!” A waitress said"


I guess I'm the first to review this wonderful story. You do excellent job in sequence of events and conversations...Bravo, sir...:)..................

[Jack Buckner]

Thank you Sami!

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome...:)........................

[Confuser]

Wonderful writing, great plot, descriptions dialouge, I'd say you did a fine job - I really enjoyed it. It was so calm; your writing is peaceful even though, I knew something was coming. Bravo!

[Jack Buckner]

Thank you so much for the review!

[Confuser]

You are welcome. Richard Beevor, on my friend list would love your writing! He is a great poet; saw where you wrote, It's been awhile, and finally, the song, by Staid?, kept saying its been a while...finally came to my rusty brain. I love music. You are a great writer. Keep writing.