The Magic Keys

by Albert Murray

  XXX

  When I called Taft Edison that next weekend and told him about my arrival and about my dinner and informal but official orientation session out at the Poindexters’, he said, Man, as ready as I was to get the hell out of that goddamn place after the three years I spent down there, I have to admit that you make me realize that I do get little twitchings of nostalgia for the old place from time to time. After all, it was a beautiful campus, as I have had no trouble recording in print, and the standard of living in the surrounding neighborhood and even some of the outlying regions was also impressive. And as you know as well as my instructors down there did, I never had anything but enthusiasm for the library.

  Me and you, man, I said, mimicking Joe States’s old catch-phrase. Me and you. And my old roommate and your old classmate Treemonisha Bradley. Which is when he also went on to say, Man, the truth of the matter is when I look back on the year-round time I spent down there maneuvering among that nationwide, and I mean coast-to-coast variety of thugs, in that student body in those days, I’m absolutely convinced that I was better prepared to cope with these Manhattan hip operators than I would have been had I come straight up here from my hometown, which, believe me, was no hick town by any measurement.

  Then he said, So our very own bespoke Ivy League liberal arts–type professor is still also pulling his share of the mandatory freshman composition and intro lit courses required of ag and tech as well as gym and bowl types down there, is he?

  And I said, As of old, and also as of now yclept campuswide as Prof Dex. I don’t know, man, maybe all those jocks don’t mind flocking to his lit classes because they are sure to be outnumbered by all of these high-grade-point-average females whose help with term papers they can pretend to be in urgent need of, and also because if they earn the kind of money and celebrity status they’re aiming at, a little spot of that belles lettres jive might come in handy in the high social circles they might move in. Not to mention jobs on a college coaching staff someday.

  Then when I told him what Hortense Hightower had told me about her involvement in the Royal Highness proposal, he said, Man, like I told you when you told me what you told me when Joe States first brought up this thing in New York, bring this thing off and good-bye, academic gumshoe. Incidentally, the Pit and the Dolomite seem to have really come along since I was down there. But gigging in places like that as close to the campus as that was strictly off-limits for music majors in my day. The two campus dance bands used to play off-campus gigs, but that was mostly for high school hops and civic benefit socials. The Dolomite was off-limits for anything representing the school, especially music majors. Come to think of it, rules for members of the chapel orchestra and choir were pretty strict, too, even if you were a local resident. If you were a member of the chapel choir you had to get cleared by the dean of the Music Department to sing in the choir of your family church.

  Man, he said, I think I told you about how old Sid and I used to hit those joints in the outlying regions and beyond every now and then. But nothing as close to the campus as the Dolomite, which, from what you tell me, must have really hit its stride during those three years you were down there after I took off. The only big outfits on tour that came through that way when I was there were booked in the gym on the campus by the recreation committee, and they played concerts in the gym, not dances. Of course, the Pit was a restaurant that started out as a barbecue pit stop out on the highway about a mile going west from Court House Square, where the old Confederate monument is.

  Old man Johnny Reb, I said. And he said, Old man Johnny Reb Comesaw. Yeah, I can still see the old son of a bitch.

  So anyway, like I said, he said then. In my opinion this could be just the thing you didn’t realize you should have been hoping and looking for just about now. And, of course, another thing I like about the whole deal is that it means that you’ll have to be making trips back up this way far more often as a routine part of the project than you’d get around to doing otherwise at your own personal expense. So I’m all for it, man, after all, as you know very well from firsthand road experience, travel expenses are just about the most routine budget item in the world these cats operate in. So take them up on it, man, and save yourself some round-trip expenses back up here and save me some long-distance phone calls.

  So what did I tell you when you told me what you told me when this thing first came up, Roland Beasley said when I called him to bring him up-to-date on how things were getting under way. Didn’t I tell you I was not surprised that the boss and Old Pro had spotted my framemaker? Because they know one when they see one. So when one turns up, zap! They got him pegged. They can tell when you know where you’re coming from. Man, my guess is that old Joe States has known what this thing was leading up to all along.

  And hey, man, he went on to add, from what you say about that Miss Hortense Hightower of yours just about takes the cake. That’s them cakewalking babies from home for you. That’s down home for you, all right. And there ain’t no such thing as up home. There is Philamayork. But it takes a lot of down-home stuff to get you there.

  Speaking of expectations, there were also those of Gaynelle Whitlow and Jewel Templeton out in California. And as for the one and only Miss Slick McGinnis, she was the flesh-and-blood dimension of the actuality of the fairy-tale aunt that the real flesh-and-blood Miss Tee could not become, and that the official actuality of Miss Lexine Metcalf made taboo (but that Deljean McRae may well have turned out to be had she still been there as she had been early on).

  The next time I saw Jewel Templeton after we said what we said and didn’t say what we didn’t need to say on the Côte d’Azur was at a party in one of the ballrooms at the Pierre two weeks before I pulled out to come back to Alabama. I was there backstage because two days earlier Joe States had called to give me the date and time that the band would be back in town to play a one-night stand in one of the ballrooms.

  Get to me fast, my man, he said with his usual mock conspiratorial urgency. Let’s touch base before you split for the ‘Bam. This thing we’re booked into for just one night is a private shindig, and we expect you backstage as soon as you can get there because we’ll be pulling in just in time to set up to hit as scheduled. And we’ll be pulling out for Canada as soon as we can repack and hit the trail. So we expect to see you backstage as soon as you can make it after we pull in, if not before. Milo will have someone on the lookout for you.

  That’s why I happened to be where I was backstage when one of the ushers came calling for me to tell me that one of the guests would be waiting to speak to me at the backstage exit to the ballroom during the first break. I said OK without asking who the guest was because I was talking to Old Pro, and when the time came we were there before I could guess who it could be. Eric Threadcraft came to mind, but I knew if he were in town, not only would he have called me, but also he would have found a way to get backstage on his own.

  We were there then, and when I saw who it was, I was surprised, but not as surprised as I would have been if she had called me on the phone or even sent a letter or a postcard. But I was almost as surprised as I had been that Sunday night outside the Keynote Lounge on Sunset Boulevard waiting with my bull fiddle to take a cab back to the Vine Lodge when she pulled to the curb and offered to give me a lift.

  So there you are, she said, extending her arms and initiating the old one-for-each-cheek routine that we had never done in public except on the Côte d’Azur. Then holding me at arm’s length she said, You look every bit as good as you should.

  And I said, Hey, coming from a marquis-certified sparkling daughter, that’s enough to make brown sugar bubble.

  A waiter came by then and she ordered a spritzer for herself and a vermouth cassis for me. And I said, Comme d’habitude. And that was when she said, I must tell you I’m here because ever since we did what we did with the marquis in the south of France, I come to listen to this band every time our paths cross, and I make a report to the marquis, which pleases him no end
and me no less. Because in a way it is as if I’ve stumbled on my own version of Alexis de Tocqueville.

  So this evening’s encounter was bound to happen sooner or later, she said, especially in New York. But I must say I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, although you do always come to mind whenever the band is mentioned. So you were part of the content of my consciousness all day today, even so. And then all of a sudden there you were.

  I just happened to get a glimpse of you in the wings, she said, because the drummer kept winking and flashing his sticks and brushes at someone in the wings during the warm-up number before the great charmer himself came striding out to direct the festivities from the piano. That’s when I called the maître d’ and gave him your name and told him where I wanted him to ask you to let him come back during the first intermission and take you to where an old friend from California would be waiting to say a brief hello for old times’ sake.

  That was when I told her that I was getting ready to leave graduate school for a while to take a part-time teaching position at my old alma mater. And she said, Well, good for them. They appreciate their own product. That’s a good sign. A very good sign. This is good news that I must pass on to the marquis right away, so he’ll know where to find you on his next trip over here. Ever since he met you in person in the south of France he has been looking forward to seeing your part of the U.S.A. with you. So now that he will know where you are going to be, watch out.

  So that was when I told her that I also had been asked to help Daddy Royal write his memoirs. And she said, Who else? You are precisely the one I would suggest that people with questions about him go to as I’m sure the marquis would agree. Indeed, the very first thing I’m going to do when I get back over to the Plaza would be to call the marquis and pass your news along to him. And by the way, when you get word on him heading back over here, be prepared for sessions about Norman Rockwell’s year-round Fourth of July paintings and images of the U.S.A. in Hollywood musicals.

  Then as the band filed back on the stage for the second set, she said, But I must not intrude on your backstage errand any longer, especially in view of the fantastic project you’re involved in and that I’m certain that you’re going to bring off brilliantly. So says the authority of my muddy water daughter intuition.

  We went through the old one for each routine again, then, and I said what I said about her recent movies. And then when I said, And of course you will tell Maurice and Esther that I asked about them, she said, But of course. And when I tell them that you’re heading back down to Alabama for a while and what you will be doing in addition to your part-time classroom schedule, they won’t even try to hide their satisfaction. To them, education is what you’re all about. Knowing what things are about and how they’re related to each other. How about that? Remember what we said about the magic keys? Well, they think of you as forging the skeleton key that opens up all sorts of treasures.

  So there you have it, I said, stepping back through the entrance to the backstage passageway, fairy tales for the likes of me and you, but nuts and bolts for them without the likes of whom not!

  Also before I left New York there had been a call from Gaynelle Whitlow, who had recently seen Joe States, who had told her about Miss Fine People and had given her my phone number to have somebody in her office to call me for her, and when whoever it was called and I answered there was a pause and the next voice was hers, saying, So the all-American schoolboy is, as the saying goes, by way of becoming the what shall we say?

  And when I said, Journeyman, she said, That’s you, all right. Still on your way wherever it is you’re headed.

  Then when I said, Hey, thanks again for rescuing me even before I needed to be rescued, she said, You know the old saying about an ounce of prevention. A smart boy like you I’m sure you know that first night was a setup. Joe and the man. I’m pretty sure old Joe would have brought you by on his own, but it was on the boss’s agenda, and he sent me a bouquet plus that was waiting for me when I got home that next morning—or was it still morning? So anyway, since you said you were definitely going back to school, I figured they had other plans for you other than just plucking on that bass fiddle.

  And I said, Hey, that part was all news to me, too.

  As I think about it now, she said then, as good as I thought you sounded in there with them that night in the Palladium and also with old Radio Red and on those other things you did with Eric Threadcraft I never really thought of you as an all-out, full-time musician. I said, Hey, he’s on it, all right, but there’s something else to this cat. So when you stayed in town and got yourself hooked with the all-American Miss Blue Eyes, I kidded you. But you knew I knew you were still on course whatever it was, didn’t you?

  And I said, Hey, some kidding! And then I said, For which much thanks, and when she said, I just didn’t want you to forget your down-home upbringing, I said, Not me. When they used to say if you could make it down there on the outskirts of Alabama you could make it anywhere else in the world, I believed them, especially one very special teacher once I got to the third grade.

  Which I could tell as soon as old Joe left you with me, she said. Then she said, So let me let you go now. I just want you to know that I’m looking forward to what you’re going to be doing with old Royal Highness. That’s old Joe, Old Pro, and the man for you. And I also got a pretty good idea of what you might be following it up with. So if your research brings you back out this way, let me know if you can. And by the way, our Miss Jewel still has most if not quite all of her blue-eyed American sparkle.

  XXXI

  When I called Royal Highness that Saturday morning he said, Hey, here he is. Hey there, young soldier. What you say, young soldier? Things shaping up on schedule down there? You ready to lay that comp on me yet? And I said so far, so good in the English Department and that I was just about ready to find out if he thought I was ready yet.

  And he said, OK. So let’s see which way you think this thing should go. You know what I mean? Not just another record of the same old rags-to-riches and fame and fortune and comfort jive. I’m not saying that that’s not a part of it. But the main part of it was that I was dancing. That’s what I’m about. That’s what I have always been about, and that’s what this book’s got to get across. Just like the Bossman’s book’s got to be about him and his music. With him it’s food, clothing, shelter, and music. And with me it’s food, clothing, shelter, and dancing, with or without music.

  So me and you, young soldier, he said. You’re the schoolboy and I’m the subject matter in person, talking about the natural-born flesh and blood. So let’s figure out how you’re going to get me to tell them in words what I’ve been showing them from up there on the stage in all these different ways over the span of all these years I’ve been up there in the spotlight. Because, hell, you know how folks are. You draw them a picture or show them an act and an imitation of a picture in the flesh and they want you to explain it with a legend or something. Or if you start out with a legend they’re going to want to see it as a picture, and let me tell you something, young prof, being a schoolboy you know even better than I do that pictures were mostly about action long before moving pictures as such came along. Hell, all that was right there for you in primer grade readers and them Sunday school cards, and what about old Santa Claus and them rein-deers in the sky? And don’t let nobody tell you that them so-called still-life paintings can do without rhythm. I’m a dancer. What about when I hit them with a freeze? It’s like a bolt of lightning! Wham! Take the breath out of the whole audience.

  But you get my point, he said then. So you tell me what was on your mind about this thing when you decided to pick up the phone and call me this morning.

  That was when I said that the theme that I had been playing around with was the dancing of an attitude, which I said was like saying dancing is what I’m all about because this is the way I deal with what life is all about, because what I’m doing when I’m dancing, it is like saying this is the w
ay I see it, the way I feel it, and the way I feel about it. And this is the way I say what I have to say about it.

  So then I said, What I jotted down was ROYAL HIGHNESS, The Dancing of an Attitude.

  And he said, Hey, yeah, young soldier! You really mean business, don’t you. I can already see right down the road you’ve got me headed along. Boy, you already got me going back to the days when I first found out about this kind of music and this kind of dancing.

  Because first there was the church and that kind of group clapping and strutting and shouting. And then there were also the jook joints, honky-tonks, barrelhouse dives, and all that shuffling and slow dragging and bumping and grinding and then the traveling tent shows and all that fancy solo stuff, and that was for me. And then somewhere along the line I realized that I was doing what I was doing the way I was doing it because the solo was like a sermon, a foot sermon in the spotlight. Like the spotlight was my pulpit.

  And that was when I said, Hey, I think you just said it, Daddy Royal. Man, I think you just said it. So how about this?

  The Dancing of an Attitude

  The

  Footnotes

  of

  the One and Only

  ROYAL HIGHNESS

  And he said, See there? There you go, right on the afterbeat! Footnotes! Boy, you got it! Boy, you know something! Boy, them thugs in that band mean it when they call you our schoolboy. Notice they don’t call you the Professor or young ‘Fess or anything like that, because they know that the Bossman and Old Pro wouldn’t have had you in that band if that was the case. And hell, they could see for themselves that you as hip to what the band is about as you are deep in all that college and university jive.

  Footnotes, he said again, then, footnotes on the afterbeat! That just about sets it up, young soldier. Hey, man, I’m beginning to see this whole thing already, but hell, I’m not surprised. Hell, I know good and well that if there was such a thing as a literary comp artist, the Bossman would spot him if he showed up. I bet it didn’t take no time at all for him to realize that Hortense Hightower had sent him one.