by Pat Tucker
“Ma, can you watch Trey Friday night? I’m working on a gig for Coop, and we need to go check out the club.”
“Chile, no problem; you know I’m pulling for y’all, so anything I can do to help.”
I had no doubt that she meant what she said, but I also knew it had to be hard to have us up under her for as long as we had been staying there.
My mother told me she wanted to take a nap before she had to leave for her shift, so that meant I needed to handle my son. I figured I’d catch up on some paperwork, and try to follow up with several leads that could turn into gigs for Cooper.
After she scooped some of the ice cream into a bowl, my mother took a few catalogs from the kitchen counter and went to her room.
Trey was fully mesmerized by the cartoons on TV. I was about to go and get him when my phone rang. As Coop’s manager, I couldn’t afford to miss a call. We never knew when the game-changing call would come through, and I needed to answer.
“This is Felicia Malone,” I answered.
“Big Al here,” his deep voice said.
“Oh, yes, Big Al, thanks for calling me back. Like I said on my message, I’m trying to see if we can get an audition. One of my clients would be a perfect fit for your club.”
Since it was so quiet on the other end, I wasn’t sure if Al had hung up.
“Al, you still there?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m good. But peep this. C’mon by the club tomorrow at three.”
“Uh, tomorrow?”
My mind quickly ran over whether I had anything to do the next day. I couldn’t think fast enough, and nothing important came to mind.
“I’m not sure Coop can take off on such short notice; he drives for Metro and—”
“I said you come by the club. After I talk with you, I’ll let you know if I wanna see your client.”
Big Al cut me off. His voice was deep and powerful. He didn’t say much, and what little he said was pretty straightforward.
“Tomorrow at three,” he repeated.
Something didn’t feel right. Of course I was going to go, but I needed him to hear Cooper sing. There was no point in me going alone when I was trying to push Coop.
Releasing a deep breath, I decided I’d keep an open mind and wait to see what happened when I met with Big Al.
Chapter Nine
The actress who cracked up with wild laughter on TV brought me back to the nightmare I was still experiencing. When I used to watch the tabloid TV shows, they left me feeling like a failure. Back in the day, I used to think if only I could book Coop on one of those, then the world would see what I knew.
He had a great voice, and he looked good; that would get us by because his attitude was shit. But my hope was, people would fall in love with the voice and the lyrics before they ever got to know the real asshole he was. That was my strategy.
I swung my feet to the floor. The last thing I needed to do was spend my day on memory lane. While Coop was living the good life, I was still picking up the pieces.
When the loud knock sounded at the door, I ignored it. I wanted Yesterday and my mother to leave. I was done with the conversation and didn’t want them looking at me with pitiful eyes.
“Felicia! Open the doggone door!” Yesterday screamed from the other side.
The noise they were kicking up was loud, but it meant nothing to me. If I ignored them long enough, I hoped they’d leave.
I glanced over at the red-bottoms that seemed to taunt me from their spot on floor. My mother and I didn’t wear the same size shoes, and I couldn’t think of a time when I’d be able to spend more than $1,000 on a single pair of shoes.
“Felicia! Open up!” Yesterday said sternly.
Why did she still think she could bully me with a locked door between us? The moment she called my mother over, she should have known all negotiations were over. My mother was just another reminder of all I had lost when Cooper had left.
“I’m about to take a nap. I’ll talk with you later,” I said.
There was more knocking. Then, for a few seconds, it stopped.
“Oooh wee!” I heard my mother say. “She’d better be glad I’m saved! Oooh wee; oooh weee!”
If only she knew I didn’t give a hot damn about her being saved. For that comment, she wasn’t getting her damn shoes back. I plucked them from the floor and placed them into my closet. My mother had shown me what really mattered when she’d chosen Evelyn and Cooper’s side.
For all I cared, she and Yesterday could fall off somewhere, and I wouldn’t be the least bit pressed. Funny how now, all of a sudden, they were so concerned about my well-being.
People loved to linger and gawk at wreckage after an accident. It was almost like my pathetic life somehow made them feel more secure in their own. Well, enough with the rubbernecking; it was time to move on!
“Felicia, I know you’re mad, but we care about you. We want you to get better. And that’s the only reason I called Miss Tabitha. She’s still your mother, and I wish you would let us back in, so we can talk to you about what’s going on here.”
The only thing that would make me better was another cocktail. But I was out of wine and intentionally didn’t remember where any more Vicodin pills were stashed.
The knocks started up again. I wanted them to stop and go away.
Neither of them could say anything I wanted to hear. They had blown my high, and traces of my cocktail were nowhere to be found in my system. I was completely sober and knew for sure there was nothing I could do to get that blissful feeling back.
Yesterday was crazy if she thought I was about to unlock the door and let them back in. I couldn’t stand them while I was under the influence. Now that I was sober, my patience was even thinner.
“Felicia, just let us talk for a few more minutes,” she pleaded.
My eyes had rolled so much, they were tired. There was nothing they could say to make me want to open the door. I needed them to get the hint and leave. I thought my mother would ask for her expensive shoes, but she didn’t.
“Ooh wee, the devil is busy!” said my mother. “That ol’ devil sho’nuff is on his J-O-B today!”
She sounded like she would break out in full-blown, Holy-Ghost-induced, shouting church-woman testimony any second.
As the two of them banged on my door and pleaded with me to let them back in, all I could think about was how Yesterday continued to betray the trust that was supposed to exist between best friends.
Not only did she continuously talk about Coop and his new successful career, but for her to reach out to my mother, knowing the state of our relationship, it made me wonder about her true loyalty to our friendship. It wasn’t the drugs talking because this thought was nothing new for me.
“Felicia, c’mon, open the door!”
The pleas were followed by knocks, and they were working my nerves. It seemed like they got louder.
Suddenly, another voice joined the chorus.
“Aey, aey, what’s going on here?”
That was my landlord, Mr. Belton. He reminded me of a person who might have been in the witness protection program. He rarely left the building, hardly ever had company, and only spoke when it was necessary. The lines on his face gave him a permanent sagging expression. He kept a short, unlit, but burnt cigar in the corner of his mouth, and he moved at his own pace, regardless of the urgency. I wondered why it had taken him so long to question them about the noise, because he seldom tolerated any type of disturbance in our small building. He once had said, “If it’s quiet, there’s no need to call the law.”
“My daughter is in there, and I think she’s in danger,” I heard my mother say.
Oh the theatrics! I frowned. But I knew Mr. Belton well enough to know she’d have to come harder and better than that.
“What kind of danger?” Mr. Belton asked. I imagin
ed he was very unimpressed with my mother’s plea.
“We think she may be suicidal,” my mother lied.
That’s when I rushed close to the door and leaned against it to get a better listen. It was funny how she could just put her religion on the shelf when it suited her. She had just told a bold-faced lie, and she knew it. Yesterday knew it too, but she didn’t say anything.
“I’m far from suicidal. I just want to be left the hell alone. I don’t want to be bothered,” I yelled.
At first, there was complete silence. I wasn’t sure what was going on out there. But it didn’t take long for the rumbling to start.
“Ah, okay, that’s it; you ladies need to leave,” Mr. Belton said.
“Wait, just give us a few more minutes,” Yesterday pleaded.
“Nah; y’all need to go! People starting to complain. She said she don’t want to be bothered, so I need y’all to go.”
“Felicia, you gonna let your mama get tossed out on the streets like this?” I heard my mother ask.
“Ain’t nobody tossing nobody out. I’m saying y’all need to leave,” my landlord repeated. This time his voice was firmer, and it sounded like he was about to go off.
“In the name of Jesus, I need you to unlock this door, so we can look in on my child before you force us out,” she finally demanded.
It was obvious Mr. Belton was not swayed.
“Ma’am, you can call on God himself, but I’m here to tell you, that ain’t gonna happen. I need the two of you to leave,” he insisted.
“This here is a welfare check. I’m telling you there’s something wrong with my child!” my mother continued.
“Felicia, you’re just gonna let it go down like this?” Yesterday asked.
“You can call the police and they’ll help you conduct a real welfare check, but for now, I’ve heard from the tenant. She says she’s fine and wants to be left alone. C’mon, let’s get to moving!” Mr. Belton said.
Upon hearing my landlord tell them to get the police, I walked away from the door. The truth was, I didn’t give a damn what happened. They had ruined my high and left me in a real funky mood. I hoped the landlord tossed them both out, and if it took him too long, I might call the cops and complain myself.
I grabbed a bottle of water, went back to the couch, and flopped down. After a few minutes, I eased back and thought about all I had done for Cooper.
The thoughts came so quickly, it was like they’d never left my mind.
Although I had waited with great anticipation for Coop to get home to talk about my upcoming meeting with Big Al, he wasn’t in the mood.
“You don’t think we need to discuss it?” I asked as I drove us home.
“Licia, you’re the manager; you do what you have to and I don’t need to know about every step you take. Just make it happen.”
For the rest of the drive, I listened to music while Cooper talked on his cell phone. My mind was on overdrive with how I would convince Big Al that Cooper needed to be his next new star. I felt like our future depended on me landing that gig for him. Cooper couldn’t bother himself with the actual details of business; he only wanted to be in the spotlight.
“Dawg, I woulda told him, I can’t put you in no pussy, and I can’t keep you out of it.”
At the sound of his conversation, I turned and looked at him. Cooper was oblivious to my presence as he talked to his boy on the phone. He couldn’t ever pretend to show respect.
“Sounds to me like she just trying to get her body count up. I mean, if he love her, I wouldn’t say nothing, but between me and you, that shit ain’t cool.” He chuckled. “Shiiid, she couldn’t be mine. Not like that. Baby, if you out there giving it up, you need to drop my last name is how I look at it.”
To me, this was a good time for us to strategize about our plan for his career. But instead, Cooper caught up on the phone calls he couldn’t make during the day. Most of the calls were to his loser friends who couldn’t do anything to help advance his career. But what could I say? When it came to his career, Cooper felt like it was all on me, and a part of me agreed. As his manager, it was my job to set him up nicely. But it would’ve been nice to have his help and some of his support. His words stayed with me long after they were spoken.
“If I go around begging to play a venue or negotiating for a gig that diminishes my status. It’s almost like people can’t see me as the star I am because they’ll remember I had to beg to get the gig in the first place.” He shook his head. “Licia, that’s not a good look.”
The more I thought about what he said, the more I agreed. I didn’t mind doing the begging and groveling. In the end, any win on my part was a win for our family. But Cooper could do something to help. As it stood, he simply sat back and waited to see what if anything I could produce.
As I had listened to Cooper’s phone call about his boy’s woman who had been caught cheating, there was no way I could have begun to imagine all I’d have to do to help jumpstart my husband’s career.
Chapter Ten
Hours after we were home and settled, my cell phone rang. I didn’t even want to look and see who was calling. So many of the calls were about things or services I could buy. I needed some paying gigs. We didn’t have money to spend unless that money was going to morph and double or triple overnight, and none of those calls could produce those type of results.
The next day, after I’d dropped Cooper at work, I decided to kill a little time before my meeting with Big Al. There was lots to do in Houston, but the problem was, almost everything required spending money. I needed ways to generate income, not spend money we really couldn’t spare.
After lots of consideration, I decided to go to the library. There, I could get a list of the live music venues around the city and try to find a residency for Cooper. I didn’t want any of the ’hood places because that would lead to problems. Cooper needed to mingle in the upscale places where someone influential might stumble in and witness his talent. That was what we needed to get things really popping for his career.
The central library downtown was closer since I had just dropped Cooper off. The first obstacle I faced was parking. It made no sense to me that there was no free, easy parking to access the city’s main library.
Driving in downtown Houston was nowhere on my list of favorite things to do. I took Walker Street and made a left onto Bagby Street, and horns started blaring. The sudden noise threatened to send my nervous system into shock.
“Oh shit, this is a one-way!” I muttered as I realized my error. Driving downtown always confused me. It was hard to navigate the one-ways and all the other confusing stuff going on. After a quick adjustment, I rode Walker another block up, made the left, then turned onto Bagby.
By the time I saw the library, my nerves were so frazzled, I didn’t even want to look for free parking on the street. I pulled into the underground garage and tried to catch my breath. Since two dollars was all I could spare, I quickly left the car. I had an hour before the price of parking would go up.
As I walked into the massive building, the crisp air conditioning cooled me instantly, and I finally felt some relief.
“Good morning, how can I help you today?” an older woman with silver hair greeted me from behind the information desk.
After I told her what I wanted, she told me the sections I needed and gave me a slip of paper with information she had written down to help me.
“Thank you.”
As I turned to leave, she called after me. “Ma’am,” she said. “Actually, might I suggest another idea?”
I returned to the information desk to hear her out. “The library is fine, but I think the tourist and visitor center across the street at city hall would probably serve you better.”
She ended her suggestion with a half shrug. Those were the type of things that made me want to kick myself. She was so correct. While
I could look places up at the library, it would probably be easier and more efficient to go to the visitor center, because that’s where I’d find the most current information about events happening around the city. That was the way I needed my brain to work without having to be told. It was going to take critical, clever thinking to make progress with Cooper’s career.
“Oooh, but I parked over here. Should I move my car?”
“No, this parking lot serves both buildings.”
Instead of going to the reference areas she’d jotted down on the piece of paper, I left the library and bolted across the street to city hall. Excitement flooded my system as I thought about all the possibilities that I might find there.
I pulled the large glass doors open and walked into the rotunda. Two ladies wearing badges stood right outside the center’s door as I approached.
I eased up and introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Felicia Malone, a local promoter, and I’m trying to find live music venues to book my clients in.”
The women smiled, shook my hand, and greeted me with excitement. One woman’s eyes literally lit up.
“Oh, my goodness! We were just talking about some of the city’s upcoming events. Do you have a card?”
Thank God I did. I dug into my purse and pulled two cards from the shiny little card holder. The women talked to me about a few upcoming events and how I could submit my artists for consideration as opening acts. They also directed me to brochures that listed lounges, restaurants, and bars that hosted live music either weekly or monthly.
They were friendly and offered up lots of useful information.
By the time I arrived back at the underground garage, my parking bill had more than tripled, but I felt like it was worth it. I had lot of information about various downtown and surrounding area venues. Behind the wheel again, I left downtown and headed south. I took the exit off 288 South, and made my way to Dixie Street. My stomach let out a mean growl and for the first time all day, I realized I hadn’t eaten a thing. I was on autopilot trying to make something happen for my client.
