Travis Starnes
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Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 23
🕑 Added 2020-12-02 18:32:19 +0000 UTCI 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 Ashville and one up north a bit, have heard rumors about you, and asked if I could bring you. If you’re up to it, I was going 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 great asset working 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 henormally 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 to my screwup.
Once it got going, the rough edges smoothed out. Most of it I actually did know how to do 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.
Of course, tonight I was also pushing off the conversation I was going to have with Mom. It seemed like every night I pushed for more when it came to music. She hadn’t had a lot of time to adjust to me doing exactly what she didn’t want me to do, and it was going to make her decide to put her foot down at some point. I knew that, but I couldn’t control the speed all these opportunities were showing up.
I had just crossed over the creek and was coming around the corner of the trailer when she pulled up. Changing my direction, I headed towards her car and opened the door for her as she collected her stuff inside.
“You’re home late,” she said.
“I know. I was playing into Willie’s set a little bit.”
“Don’t make a habit of it. You’re allowed to play, but I don’t want you to keep pushing the time back later and later every week. You still need to get a good night's sleep and sleeping during the day isn’t good for you.”
“I won’t. Hanna usually makes me leave before it’s too late, since she usually wants to go home by then.”
“That’s fine, but this is on you. Don’t rely on someone else to make sure you follow the rules.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
We walked inside and she set her stuff down on the kitchen table. She usually left it there on Saturday nights, and took care of it Sunday mornings. She worked really long days on weekends and normally wanted to head straight to bed.
Instead of heading back towards my room, I stopped and stood in the doorway, mostly figuring out how I wanted to start the conversation.
“What?” She asked.
“There’s a … thing.”
“What thing?”
“Willie is heading out on tour next week. Apparently, he goes out every year around this time, making a tour of bars up and down the south.”
“Okay,” she said warily.
“Chef and Willie talked to me about it today. Because Willie’s going to be gone, it’ll mean a change in the music at the Blue Ridge.”
“You already work all day Saturday plus Friday and Sunday nights, and play on Saturday nights. I don’t want you picking up more days than that. Your paychecks have been a big help, but there’s a limit to what I’m willing to let you do. You’re still a kid, Charlie, and you need to focus on being a kid.”
“It won’t mean more days,” I said. “In actual hours, it’ll probably mean less work. They’re talking about me taking over playing on Saturday nights for the main part of the night and playing either on Fridays or an early set on Sundays, depending on what’s happening that week. Chef made sure to say that they’d have me done simultaneously as my shifts working in the kitchen would be done, so I won’t be spending any more time there than I already do. Besides, they have the people that like the music Willie plays and they want to keep a later set on some days for that stuff, which doesn’t need me. Basically, I’ll be back to working what I was before they moved me to Saturday mornings, but making more money.”
“I’m still not sure Charlie. This is all happening way too fast.”
“I know, trust me I really do, and maybe it all falls apart. I’m staying realistic. I’m not going to declare this is my big break and drop out of school. My focus still needs to be there, in school; and honestly, since I won’t have to work all day Saturdays anymore, I’ll have more time to study. I know you have your concerns, but I really want to do this.”
“If it means you working less, then I won’t stand in your way. I’m still not okay with this, and all my warnings about what happens if you can’t get your grades worked out, stands.”
“I promise I’ll get that worked out.”
She turned to head back towards her room, but I didn’t move, causing her to stop and look at me suspiciously.
“There’s another thing,” I said sheepishly.
“You’re starting to push your luck.”
“I know, but …”
“What’s the thing?”
“I mentioned Willie was going on tour.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, on the shows he has that are close, like in Ashville or somewhere about as close, he offered for me to come with him, so I could get some experience playing in places other than the Blue Ridge.”
“Charlie …”
“It would replace either my Friday or Saturday nights playing at the Blue Ridge and Willie said he’ll make sure I’m home before too late, although it would probably be later than I’m usually home. They will keep it to Saturdays or Sundays, so I don’t stay up too late on a school night. It’s a really great opportunity.”
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, “Just, go to bed. I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you,” I said, hugging her.
She pushed me back and said, “I’m not agreeing. I’m just thinking about it.”
“I get it and I promise I’ll still hold to our bargain. This is really important to me.”
“I know, now go to bed.”
I left her alone, since I knew I was really pushing my luck. Overall, it had gone better than I feared, especially with the parent/teacher meeting tomorrow. I needed to do something to show Mom I was serious about putting school first. I didn’t know what that would be yet, but I couldn’t keep pushing my luck like this.
Despite my bravado to Mom, I was extremely anxious the next morning on the way to school. My experiences with the faculty at Carr have been mixed at best. Even though Vice-principal Keller had been even-handed so far, I was not one-hundred percent confident that they would find a way to help me start passing my classes. My confidence was shaken even more when I was shown into Vice-principal Keller's office and saw the counselor, Mr. Packer, sitting in one of the chairs.
He might not have been on the same level as Coach Bryant, but he wasn't someone I had a lot of trust in.
Mom was already there, so I took a seat next to her, holding my tongue for the moment.
“Good. Now that Charlie's here we can begin. Miss Nelson, during a recent incident I had the chance to look over Charlie's performance so far this year and was concerned with what I saw. While his performance is fine in some areas, there are several classes in which his performance is much lower than we would normally like to see for students. I know Charlie is new to the district and I understand from counselor Packer that he was previously homeschooled. Now I'm sure you did your best for Charlie but in my experience homeschooling does not always prepare students for a more standardized teaching environment. What I want to do today is come up with a plan that can help Charlie succeed here and in what he does in the future.”
“I appreciate your calling this meeting,” Mom said. “I will admit that there were some subjects I was not properly prepared for which might have left him behind where he needs to be. Charlie has assured me he is trying his best and just needs some assistance in understanding the material and getting up to speed.”
“While we all want Charlie to succeed, I'm afraid I am not convinced that he is ready for the level of academic standards we have.” Mr. Packer said. “Before this meeting, I just had time to review his grades and talk to some of his teachers. While he is doing acceptable work in some classes, his issues and others are more than just low grades. For instance, the test he recently took in world history show more than just a lack of understanding of the materials. To me, a grade that low suggests a lack of effort.”
“What!?” Mom said, turning to look at me. “When we talked you didn't say anything about failing your history test.”
“Wait, I didn't fail that test. Mr. Keller, we were in here and you saw that he graded it wrong. I got an A on that test.”
“Yes, that is true. That was simply a clerical error.”
Before anyone could respond there was a knock at the door. Vice-principal Keller went and cracked the door open slightly to have a conversation with whoever was on the other side. After a brief exchange he opened the door all the way to allow Miss Seidel into the room.
“Sorry I’m late. I overheard Mr. Packer talking to Coach Bryant about this meeting and, as the teacher of the class Charlie has been struggling with the most, I thought it would be helpful to be here.”
“I’m sure we don’t …” Mr. Packer started to say, before being cut off by Mr. Keller.
“We appreciate you joining us,” he said, extending an arm, indicating for her to join us.
There were only three chairs in front of Mr. Keller’s desk, leaving nowhere for Ms. Seidel to sit. When Mr. Packer stayed seated I got up and gave my seat to her. Walking over to the wall perpendicular to the desk and chairs I leaned on it, allowing me to put all my weight on my good foot and still see everyone at the same time.
Mr. Packer gave me a look before turning back to Mr. Keller, saying, “As I was going to say, besides his grades, there have been behavioral instances that I think need to be addressed. It is unusual for a student to be suspended this early in the year, more so one that is just transferred into our district. Couple with his off-campus fight before the year even started and issues in behavioral issues in some of his classes, I think this just further shows that he is not ready to operate on this grade level. It might be best to put him in remedial classes or move him to some alternative form of schooling until he can better adapt to life at a public school.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to disagree with Mr. Packer here,” Ms. Seidel said. “I’m not sure which of Charlie's teachers you’ve spoken to, but I can say he’s been a pleasure to have in my class. I understand that his lowest grades so far are in my class, and I’ll say up front I do not believe that to be from poor work ethic or a lack of effort. I see Charlie trying his best every day in my class. Unfortunately, more than most other subjects, math is based on an accumulation of understanding, and he’s missing some of the basic building blocks that my class requires. Instead of writing off a student, especially one that works as hard as Charlie does, I’d suggest we try to help him.”
Mr. Packer looked like he wanted to say something, but Mr. Keller started speaking first.
“That is what I’d prefer. From looking at his current grades, the classes he’s currently struggling in, are biology and math, with his history grades being somewhat borderline.”
“I’d like to interject,” Mr. Packer said. “As you know, we don’t have any programs to help students like this, especially in such a wide range of classes. I’ve asked the administration for a budget for a tutoring program for several years, and I’ve been told that it wasn’t practical. Unfortunately, that sort of program would have been something that could have helped in this case, but without it …”
“Actually, I do have a solution. I have several students in my calculus classes whose grades are excellent across the board. I’ve spoken to them and one of the students has agreed to help tutor Charlie. I’d hoped to get something in place next week and talk to Charlie about it.”
“Wait…” Mr. Packer said before Mom cut him off.
“That’d be wonderful. While we aren’t in a position to pay much, we’d be happy to offer something to this student if they could help Charlie.”
“That won’t be necessary. They know Charlie and agreed to do it for free, to help him out. They actually have the same study hall period as Charlie and have agreed to meet him in the library during study hall starting on Thursday to begin the tutoring sessions. We’ve agreed he’ll get tutoring on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’ll speak to Charlie’s study hall teacher and let her know about the arrangement.”
“Mrs. Nelson, I think that sounds like a great solution to the issues. While I hope peer tutoring will help him get caught up, I’d ask you to please continue to monitor Charlie's progress and don’t hesitate to contact me if you feel he isn’t catching up. As vice-principal, my job is to make sure every student succeeds.”
“Thank you, Mr. Keller. I certainly will take you up on that. Charlie has promised me he is going to continue putting school first.”
“Well, I think we’re done here. Mr. Packer, if you’ll hang behind a moment, there are a few things I’d like to discuss with you.”
I was happy Ms. Seidel showed up and bailed me out from what had been looking like a disaster. Mom stopped to talk to her while I hung back. As I waited, Mr. Packer came out of the office, shooting me a not so friendly glance before heading towards his office. I could only guess at what Mr. Keller had said to him, but I was pretty sure I’d just made another enemy in the faculty, which was going to be a problem at some point. I needed to stop making my teachers hate me, or the next three years would become absolute hell.
Eventually, Mom and Ms. Seidel finished. Mom had to get back to work and I had my next class to get to.
“Your math teacher seems to think highly of you.”
“She’s a good teacher.”
“I can see that. Do your best with this tutoring thing. You’ve been given a second chance; don’t waste it, okay?”
“I promise.”
“Good,” she said, giving me a hug. “I’ll see you at home tonight.”
All in all, that went better than I’d expected. It might not solve all my problems, but it at least gave me a shot at getting things straightened out.
