Southern Blues

The sad truth about the Southern Blues

"Just hand me a three strang guitar, and I'll sure enough make ya dance. My name is Othello Robinson and I'm from Starkville, Mississippi. As I introduced myself I was cut off by a white man in the crowd, "Who let this colored boy on the stage, someone is getting their a*s fired tonight!" I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by, I ripped into that lil ol' guitar and let music do the rest. Everybody was dancin', nobody was gonna leave this joint without a couple blisters on they heels. I ended the night with my personal favorite, a song I wrote called the Southern Blues.

 

A standing ovation followed my debut performance, people were talking about I'm the next best thing to come out of Mississippi. " Othello Robinson?" A shorty stocky colored fella walked up to me, I shook his hand. "Yeah that's me." "Well uh, my name is Earl James, I own a night club about ten miles west of here, I would be honored if you came to play down there. A lot of big time producers be there too I bet you could show em a thing or two." Sure I was excited, but I couldn't just hop right in without asking, " What y'all payin?"

 

Earl chuckled at that and said to me, "We will pay you $400 for the night, how's that sound?" I almost jumped out of my shoes, "That sounds damn good to me, let's do the damn thing Earl." I packed my gear and left out the back of the club. The alley was dark and wet, I could barely find my way out. As I made my way down the alley a figure of a man appeared from out of the shadows, as it began to move closer I recognized his face, it was the white man from the club.

 

"Hey n****r, what makes you think you just come around these parts and play in our clubs?" I knew this was going to end well but I still tried to reason with the man. "Look, I don't want any trouble I'm just trying to make a living out here just like the rest of the good folk around these parts." He scowled at me with a look of extreme distaste. "Look here! If I ever see you around these parts again, you can be sure that me and the boys will make your life a living hell, now get your black a*s out of here!" I didn't stick around to plead cases with the man, I made my way out of the alley, the whole time walking home expecting a gang a white boys to ambush me. I finally made it home but I knew in my heart the worst has yet to come.

 

The next morning I got a call from Earl, "Hey how ya doin O? Everything is in place for tonight are you ready to go?" I knew I should decline and save myself from the imminent trouble to come, but I needed the money, I had to do this. "Yes sir, I'm all ready to go. Ill see you later tonight." I hung up the phone and sat at the edge of my bed and thought about that white man and his threat. I knew that something awful was going to happen tonight but I couldn't let this opportunity slip away, the reward outweighed the risk, at least that's what I thought.

 

The whole day I sat in my house preparing for the night to come, I was ready to blow the roof off the place once I got up on that stage. As I made my way into town, signs with my name on them were posted on every other building. Everybody that saw me would stop and ask for my signature, I didn't know I was a star out these parts. "Knock em dead O!" A young woman said as she passed by. This was my time to shine I said to myself as I made my way through the back of the club and into my assigned dressing room. Earl was waiting for me when I got there, "Alright Othello the time is now, play how you played last night and you'll never have to worry about money again." I straightened my tie and said, "I won't let you down Earl, this is what I do." That was good enough for him, he left my room and stepped on stage, he was ready to introduce me to the crowd."

 

"Ladies and Gentleman! Allow me to introduce to you, a young man straight out of Starkville, Mississippi. I heard him play last night, and let me tell you the boy can play. With out further ado, the man himself, Othello Robinson!" I stepped on stage, almost blown away by the enormous applause. That was the greatest night of my life, I even got offered contracts from a few different music labels. I packed up for the night and replayed the performance in my head over and over, I was ecstatic. But like the saying goes, all good things must come to end and the curtain was set to close forever. 

 

As I made my way across the bridge out of town, a pickup truck full of white men lead by the man from the alley, pulled in front of me and hopped out the truck. "I thought I told you I ain't ever wanna see your face around here again! I guess me and the boys will have to teach you a lesson." Before I could try to talk myself out of this situation, I was tackled to the ground, punches and kicks swarming me like an angry nest of bees. The final blow to the head with the stock of a shotgun would be the last, I pictured my self on stage strumming that three strang guitar. The world will never get to hear my voice and all I had to share, but I guess now I'm just another story to tell around town... Another song to sing about them Southern Blues. 

 

--- The End   

Reviews

[Will Neill]

Charles, I liked your thoughts with the musician and how you used it in a steam of consousness type story, but I feel you are falling into the trap of telling rather than showing. Now I am not trying to undermine your ability to write nor will I force my ideas on you but if you read my story (only if you wish to) ''Dying for respect'' you will see how hatred of racism is brought out in the context of the first world war. I think you should slow down and not be so eager to get it written and posted, read your story out loud and you will see what I mean. I have read all your stories even though I do not comment on them all I follow them with great interest.
Good luck.
Will

[charles_duane]

Thank you Will, I appreciate that you stay up to date on my work and I will be reviewing yours. Thanks for your input.

[MomzillaNC]

I've heard something like this before.

NOTES: You need to left justify your copy.

[Jackson H. Harley]

A tragic tale of intolerance and the constant struggle to overcome it, another great piece :)