Saturday, 04 July 2009

• A minor Blues, Chapter IV

  CHAPTER IV

  "But where were the black people? Ain't no town in the south, not today,
  not ever, that lacked a colored section, a shinetown. It was a good
  show, but Mayberry was a white man's fantasy, is all I'm sayin'."

  If one had to be arrested, there were worse places to do time than
  Audie's front porch, where the two new friends had settled after a fine
  dinner of red beans and rice, pork chops, and fresh-picked greens. The
  men had graduated to Kentucky bourbon, Jack's with a splash of water,
  Audie's darkened with cola. The current topic of discussion was one of
  many the two had started, one blending into the next.

  Sherry, Audie's wife, an ample and handsome woman, clearly enjoyed the
  company. Jack's presence was a respite from the emptiness of the nest
  since their only child, a son, had left for basic training a few weeks
  earlier. Of course Sherry had shown off his graduation photos. He was
  clearly a Boulware, maybe a little less stocky.

  They were sipping the whiskey, respectful of its power, enjoying its
  smoothness. Jack was feeling as good as he ever had, and suggested he
  might move to Euclidean, become Barney Fife to Audie's Sheriff Taylor,
  After his sentence was up, that is. Obviously, Audie had honed his
  opinion of the Andy Griffith Show over the years, and Jack's reference
  was his cue to deliver it.

  "I remember one episode," Jack replied, "That had a black guy in it."

  "Yeah, he was passin' through Mayberry, I remember that one. All I'd
  ever do in that cracker town". That seemed exceedingly funny to both
  men, and Sherry poked her head out the door to see what was so funny.
  She had changed clothes, and looked ready to go somewhere.

  Jack conceded. "Okay, you aren't Andy. I'm not Barney, and Sherry is
  much prettier than ol' Aunt Bea."

  "Well, you just come for dinner any time, handsome. Honey, we are still
  goin' to Leon's?" It was a question, and not, at the same time.

  "Yes, yes, my sweet magnolia." Audie's W.C. Fields was, though
  recognizable enough, atrocious. "Jack, for your benefit, I am initiating
  a program of rehabilitation, starting with some community service. You
  may find the following coupla' hours useful as background in your
  current endeavor as well."

  Jack was up for anything. "What have you got in mind? And, by the way,
  outside of hassling tourists, do you ever do any police work?"

  "Matter of fact, insolent one, this is an investigation in progress on
  which we will soon embark. "Leon Whittington, a cousin of Sherry's
  Momma, has been rumored to operate an unlicensed establishment, at which
  liquor is served in copious amounts, and people smoke, drink and dance
  with abandon." Audie heaved his bulk out of the rocker, slapped Jack on
  the shoulder and his wife on the rump as he walked past them into the
  house. "Go take a shower while I get my uniform on, you white people
  have a funny smell."
  ---------------------------------------------

  

  "This is a pre-fab home", Audie shouted into Jack's ear. "The owner
  finishes the interior after the builder erects the exterior and roofs
  it. I wish I could have seen the fellow's face when Leon asked him to
  save the sawdust."

  Jack chuckled appreciatively. All Leon had finished was the bar and the
  bathrooms, He had added no interior walls, just a post here and there to
  support the roof and the occasional patron. The bar ran most of the
  south side of the structure, stopping at the restrooms. The band was set
  up on a foot-high platform 10 foot deep and 15 foot wide. There was
  seating for 20-25 people, including the barstools, two of which Jack and
  Audie occupied. Sherry was at one of the tables with some girlfriends.
  The rest of the building's floor space was devoted to dancing, and one
  more person could not have been shoehorned onto it without committing
  an act of frottage. As it was, some of the dancers appeared to be
  flagrantly delicting without a thought as to who might care.

  "I wanna know how in the hell Leon got R.L. Burnside to play in his
  gin joint to begin with." Jack noticed, too late, that the music had
  stopped when he was halfway through the remark. Several faces turned in
  his direction, none white, none friendly. From the stage, R.L., one of
  the last of the Delta-style blues artists, spoke into his microphone.
  "Go on and tell him, Sheriff. It's okay deppity, I remember my first
  beer."

  Jack turned suitably red in the face, pointed at his drink, waved his
  hand as if swearing off booze forever. This got the crowd laughing with
  him, not at him anymore. From behind the bar, Leon said, "No one takes
  the pledge in my place of business.", and poured Jack another shot of
  Glenmorangie. People returned to their tables, forgot about the
  Sheriff's strange choice of drinking companions. "Besides", Leon
  continued, "I opened this bottle just for you, and I'll never get another
  customer with such distinguished taste in single-malts. It gets drunk
  tonight or I have to finish it before it goes stale."

  "Leon here did a stretch with RL, Jack. A long time ago. Mr. Burnside
  plays here when schedule and proximity allow."

  Jack was familiar with Burnsides' music. He also knew that the bluesman
  had done time for murder. He remembered a quote attributed to RL years
  after his release. "I didn't mean to kill nobody...I just meant to shoot
  the sonofabitch in the head. Him dying was between him and the Lord."

  "Ten years my junior, and Leon here schooled me, kept me alive in that
  place." R L had come up behind Jack while Audie and Leon were talking.
  "Didn't even ask for no booty, not that he would've got any."

  "Shit, them hard boys din't ask, they took." This was Leon weighing in.
  The two old friends punched each other, fairly hard, too, and Leon made
  his way down the bar, filling some glasses, denying more to others whose
  bearers had clearly reached their limit.

  "Mr. Moonlight here is on Spoondog's trail, RL.", Sheriff Boulware
  informed him.

  RL cocked an eyebrow. "How many cemeteries have you checked out?"

  "One so far.", Jack answered. "I couldn't get permission to visit
  Cummins."

  "Can't say you want to, son. A bad place now, worse back in the day."
  Burnside paused, looked Jack through and through, measured him, and came
  to some internal decision. "You stayin' for the last set?", he asked.

  Jack looked at Audie, who nodded in the affirmative. "To serve and
  protect, Mr. Burnside."

  "I know someone who might know something. Come see me after the set, we
  can talk while the boys pack up." He looked at his watch. "Time to round
  up the band, gents. Get them to playin' for y'all, before they get too
  stoned and forget how." The elder Delta statesman shook Jack's hand,
  then Audie's, and headed for the back door. Jack watched him go,
  thrilled as a girl who got to kiss Elvis. He noticed a few people in the
  place looking at him, but when he made eye contact, they nodded or
  smiled. Getting chatted up by Leon, Boulware, and Burnside had earned
  him some cachet. It was a good feeling, a good night all around.

  Just then a man came up to Audie and told him there was a fight out in
  the front yard. Audie excused himself quickly. "Got po-lice work to do,
  Jack. Have fun, I may haveta take somebody to the hoosegow or the
  hospital."

  "I'll go with you", Jack offered.

  "No", Audie said over his shoulder. "Low profile, whitebread." And he
  strode out the door, shifting to cop mode as he went.

  Leon came over with the bottle, but Jack put his hand over his glass.
  Leon understood, he knew Jack was looking to lose his buzz so he wouldn't
  look a fool in front of RL later. He gave Jack a coke instead, and then
  went over to the bandstand. Leon pulled the mike close to his lips.
  "Ladies and Gentlemen. He's got time for one more set, and he promises
  you that it will be a doozy. Welcome back the Last of the Delta
  Bluesmen, Mr. R. L. Burnside and the Sound Machine!"

  The applause was quickly drowned out as The band struck up Burnside's
  best known song outside of Mississippi, "It's Bad, You Know", and
  couples began filing out onto the dance floor. Sherry walked over to
  Jack, grabbed him by the hand, and practically pulled him off the stool.
  "Looks like my date left me, handsome. Shall we dance?"

  "Sure thing, babe. I cut a mean moonwalk."

  "Don't you dare moonwalk, Mr. Moon-light." But she was laughing. They
  found a reasonably unpopulated space, and began to dance.
  The room was still spinning a bit. Jack was feeling good, just loose
  enough to get into the groove. Tentative at first, he watched the other
  dancers for pointers, and then went to work. Bobbing and weaving,
  counter-pointing Sherry's steps, he got a smile from RL as he sang, "My
  baby asked me why. I done went and tol'her. My baby asked me why..."
  When the song ended, they went straight into Willie Dixon's "Wang Dang
  Doodle". Some in the crowd just bobbed in time to the music, in front of
  the bandstand. They joined in when RL when got to the lines, "We gonna
  romp and stomp til midnight, we gonna fuss and fight til daylight".

  Jack whooped, and did his Michael Jackson. He pulled it off, and Sherry
  laughed in spite of herself. She turned her back on Jack, and did a rump
  twitch that sent one cheek skyward, then the other. "You could beat a
  drum with that junk, lady.", Jack yelled in her ear.  The band slowed
  down the tempo with a song about a girl named Mattie. Leon cut in on
  Jack, took his cousin in his arms. Leon's barback, a girl named
  Coquetta, joined Jack, and they swayed in time. Jack could feel the
  sweat soaking through her shirt as his hand on her back guided them in a
  circle. After the song, she kissed his cheek and went back behind the
  bar. He was in love with her until another gal grabbed his arm, and the
  bassline to "Let My Baby Ride" got the sawdust on the floor to shaking.

  Audie walked back in. Jack saw dirt-stains and mud on his shirt, but
  Audie gave him a thumbs-up. Sherry went to her husband, visibly fussing
  over the mess. They conversed, and Audie let Jack know with hand signals
  that they would be back to get him after a change of clothes.

  The set ended with a medley from Burnside's "Ass Pocket Full of
  Whiskey" album. "This one is for my new friend Curious Jack," He
  announced, referring to Jack's faux pas earlier. Jack wasn't ready to
  stop boogeying, but too soon the music ended, the house lights
  brightened the room and Burnside was callingJack over. "Got a pen?",
  He asked the star-struck gumshoe. "Good. Let'sget in the van, turn up the
  air. Goddam, its hot."
  When Jack walked back in, the place was almost empty. Leon and Coquetta
  were cleaning up, and Jack had the first solid lead so far in the case.
  He jumped on a stool, Leon took the time to pour five fingers for Jack,
  who then proceeded to drink and chat up Coquetta until Audie yelled at
  him from the doorway. Coquetta gave what even a drunk would know was
  a "nice try" look, and he stumbled off towards the front door.

  In the car on the way back home, Audie was finishing up his story about
  turning a knife back on some drunken fool. He had waited for the
  ambulance to take the victim to County Hospital before he and Sherry
  came back for their guest.

  "Don't Leon ever get in trouble with the neighbors?"

  "Hell Jack, that was a slap fight, the shit outside of Leon's. "We
  weren't halfway to the house when I got the call about trouble at the
  honky-tonk 'cross town. "You crackers cut each other up more'n we do.
  Never did get my shirt changed, something a sober de-tective might have
  de-tected."He looked back in the rear seat. Jack had passed out.

  "Sherry, he throws up in my car, he's sleepin' on the lawn, hear me?"

   

  
   

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