Poverty Rocks! (Rock n' Roll in Outer Space Book 1)

by Douglas Hardee

  “A video would break the spell Marvin weaves. Same deal with 'Let's Get it On.” Come on, do really need paint-by-numbers visuals for the most seductive music Motown ever produced?" exclaimed Jericho.

  Haskell loved the cadences and passion in Jericho's preaching when these moods seized him. Hell, Jericho's rants provided the comic relief that got him through their tour of Iraq.

  "There are other artists MTV would have ruined for us – Little Richard – what the hell would you do with ‘Tutti Fruiti’? Wop bop a loo bop a lop bam boom!"

  Haskell smiled and put his hand up to his ear. "Sing it again, Jericho."

  "Wop bop a loo bop a lop bam boom!" sang Jericho. He shifted in his seat. "That's the musical equivalence of the Hammer of Thor. You don't need visuals to jump into that. It's the music of sheer exuberance. Little Richard was a juke box Shakespeare."

  Haskell took a sip of his soft drink, nodding his head.

  "And don't get me started on James Brown, 'Try Me,' 'Night Train,' 'Sex Machine'. If that stuff doesn't reach out and pull you without cue cards, check your pulse."

  Haskell nodded his head like a parishioner listening to a sermon he knows by heart.

  Jericho took a short pull off the beer nestled in the console. "This will be, as you and I have discussed Haskell, a dual offensive; our man Zorbane will operate his pirate ship just outside of Zeon's defensive Force Shield. It's our job to keep him supplied with food, water and insert the new spirits into the cultural firmament of the Mountain Region and then on to Zeon.”

  Haskell smiled.

  "Now that Zorbane is going to be one lonely cat out there floating in space all his lonesome," said Jericho.

  "Dang, he's gonna be like one of those dudes that orbited Earth for a year, you know, living a pretty austere life. I bet those guys and gals that have done that probably raised holy hell when they entered Earth's rowdy atmosphere, and I'm not just talking about the atmospheric pressure," said Haskell.

  "He'll have to be as dedicated as that Russkie, Valeri Polyakov. The cat did 437 days, 17 hours, 59 minutes and 16 seconds in space," laughed Jericho.

  Haskell slapped his thigh. "Man, that's some time to kill. That Russian dude could have written a couple of really good songs up there if he had the gift. Look what Bowie did with Major Tom, and he never spent a minute in space.”

  "Not in a rocket, anyway," laughed Jericho.

  "Speaking of which, let's not forget Elton and 'Rocket Man,’” said Haskell.

  Jericho sang a few notes of the song, let out a laugh, and put back on his military strategist hat. "The second prong in our strategy, as I said earlier, is introducing into their population what our friend Louise supplied us with: the DNA. We'll recreate these titans and see what the hell happens. No telling! We'll need to build some churches in the Mountains, juke joints, honky tonks, public housing, all the stuff that builds skill, spirit, resourcefulness and genius," said Jericho as he popped the steering wheel.

  "We got a lot of work to do partner. Good thing we're young bucks."

  Jericho reached over and turned up the Bluetooth sound system as a classic rock tune wailed out.

  Haskell reached out and bumped fists with Jericho as the two hurtled into the desert.

  They had the special glow of two men with a mission, devoid of self-doubt. It was petal to the metal rock 'n' roll.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The Guitar Slayer

  “Got a black magic woman

  I got a black magic woman

  Yes, I got a black magic woman

  Got me so blind I can't see

  But she's a black magic woman

  And she's tryin' to make a devil out of me”

  –Peter Green

  To best understand The Cajun Lady, it's best to tell you more about the aforementioned Louise Barrillot and her background.

  Legend has it that Louise Barrillot's mother was the inspiration for the Mountain classic, "Mississippi Queen." And it's also been whispered that she was Peter Green's muse for his tune made famous by Santana, "Black Magic Woman."

  That her mother was beautiful and willful is well-known in musical circles. What we don't know about in full is the gift that Louise's mother passed down to her, maybe a curse is a more accurate term for it. You see, Anastasia Barrillot was a voodoo priestess of renown around New Orleans, and as such was both feared and desired in equal measure. Her charms being supposedly irresistible, especially among visiting musicians who during that halcyon period liked to play with fire? It was said she could turn any egomaniacal front man into a hot mess. Among the locals her wrath was to be avoided at all costs, and the few that dared try had very bad things happen to them.

  One particularly very wealthy rock impresario became so smitten with her after a palm reading he hired out The New Orleans Preservation Hall Jazz Band to serenade her. His wife got wind of it, and had a threatening note delivered to Anastasia the next morning.

  By late that afternoon, the jealous wife was on a plane to London. "No comment" was the best that anyone could get out of her.

  By the way, the impresario's world-famous band played the Super Dome later that night. Anastasia was in the front row, flirting with the lead singer. The next day Anastasia and the aforementioned lead singer were spotted departing a private jet in Mustique.

  And, as they say, Louise was a chip off the old crystal ball. She had enjoyed a week-long dalliance with Haskell after their chance meeting at the Old Absinthe House. They were drawn to each other immediately. He was handsome, witty, and, as a bonus, he sported the body of a professional football player. But that week-long passion play of eating, drinking and love making was now just a wonderful memory.

  They both knew their mutual passion would eventually lead to an Icarus-like flameout, which they both were cool-headed enough to avoid. Haskell and Louise were at heart both realists, pragmatic to their core.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Don't Look Back

  While the Feds were looking at prosecuting Pastor Claiborne, and still licking their wounds over missing Haskell and Jericho, Zorbane had agreed to Haskell's request for a meeting in the Texas Hill Country with Louise Barrillot.

  The Cajun Lady was indeed an exotic vision. But despite her numerous suitors, she wanted no part of conventional life. Marriage and motherhood had no appeal to her at all. She marched to her own brass band. Ms. Barrillot despised small talk and phonies. And she could spot them almost instantaneously. It was a gift, and she had it from as far back as she could remember.

  She had always heard rumors that her mother, who was now living in Switzerland with some tech multi-millionaire, was the inspiration for one of the greatest rock 'n' roll songs ever to come down the pike, "Mississippi Queen." Who knew? All she could remember was a childhood of rich men and gifts and not much time with her mother. Her father, who had left when she was around seven, often told her that growing up as pretty as her mother was actually a curse if you didn't have any morals or scruples. He was not a violent man at home, nor did he drink to excess or berate her mother. No, he was quite kind to Louise, if not overly affectionate. In fact, he loved to read to her at night. Yes, he was a hard-working oil rig man and not really all that bad of a guy. But like many people, there is only so much he could take. He up and left one day after her mother came in from another late night. He eventually got a job on a rig off Galveston and moved to Texas. He later remarried and Louise rarely heard from him anymore except for a card each year around Christmas time.

  But that was in the past, and Louise was always looking forward for a better gig.

  Fortunately for Haskell and Jericho, this immensely talented and perceptive woman still
had a small crush on Haskell, and, she loved their small-batch moonshine. It truly was the best thing this side of Pappy Van Winkle.

  But most importantly, she was not without her own shortcomings. Louise liked to play the horses, and, she had amassed a fairly large gambling debt to some very rough people. And no amount of charm could get these people off her back. So, when Jericho and Haskell made her a lucrative offer to read this supposed alien guy, she quickly accepted.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Beguiled

  The reason we're successful, darling? My overall charisma, of course.

  –Freddie Mercury

  Hidden in dense brush, Zorbane's craft was well concealed from any surveillance flights that may be overhead. He arrived on his specially outfitted Earth motorbike at Pat's Cafe, where he was to meet up with the mysterious Louise.

  Zorbane thought the request was strange when he first got the message from Jericho, but after thinking it over he realized that for practical men like Jericho and Haskell, discretion and caution were the best way to survive on Earth.

  As he walked in the cafe he nodded at the lady tending the register. Yes, as old-fashioned as it seemed to him, they still used money on many parts of Earth. Scouring the place, his eyes lighted upon a colorfully dressed woman sitting by herself near a window in the back of the place. She was illuminated in the fading light, like a vision from one of Earth's LP covers. He strolled over and stood.

  "Are you the woman friend of Jericho and Haskell that I am to see and talk with?" Zorbane said. He was excited, as he loved the song 'Mississippi Queen' and knew the legend that her mother may have played a part in its creation.

  The brown-skinned beauty nodded her head and poured some cream in her coffee. "Have a seat, sir," said Louise Barrillot.

  Zorbane grabbed a chair and sat down. "Is it true about your mother being the famous ‘Mississippi Queen’ song inspiration," blurted out Zorbane. For a highly intelligent man and a truly superb pilot whose even-keeled composure was one of his strengths, Zorbane became boyishly enthusiastic when the subject turned to rock 'n' roll.

  Louise smiled and nodded. Her lush dark hair shimmered in the western light as it poured into the window of the quiet cafe. "She was many things to many people, a chameleon if you will, and to some men she was a mystery that they just had to solve. Very few ever did." She paused to take a sip of her coffee. "So, I understand from my friends Haskell and Jericho that you are from the planet Zeon, is that true?" said Louise as she locked onto his eyes.

  Zorbane gulped.

  "Yes, that is the honest. They need me to escape from the Earth federal authorities and I need them to launch a revolution," answered Zorbane.

  Louise lowered her piercing eyes. "With music, they tell me," said Louise.

  "Yes, as you know, politics are downstream from rock 'n' roll."

  Zorbane, the well-educated, vigilant, fearless pilot was gradually coming under the spell of the Cajun beauty. The man who endured and withstood countless hours of indoctrination from the ingenious Shapers was mesmerized by the cadence of her voice, her eyes; helpless to resist the hypnotic voice and gaze of Louise. This was what one might call, love at first spell. Like a teenage boy in love for the first time, the same song kept playing in his head while he sat there: "Mississippi Queen."

  Yes, Zorbane was stricken like any other 24-year-old man would be in the web of Louise. In this liaison, he was out of his depth. It was like the Washington Generals playing the Harlem Globetrotters. The New England Patriots playing the high school state champs. A complete mismatch.

  Haskell and Jericho had only wanted Louise to check the alien out; read his intentions. What they hadn't counted was their future partner going under the spell of this enchantress.

  Yes, our rock 'n' roll-obsessed alien had fallen for a lady he had no chance with: Louise had turned down dates with All-Pro NFL studs, stupid rich oilmen, and do-gooder movie stars schleppin' 'round New Orleans.

  And, to complicate their task, as we all know, there's no talking to a man when he's in love.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Midnight Never Sounded So Good

  Boys, they can't take my refrigerator now. They'll never get my car now. I paid cash for 'em and they're mine, and I'm keepin' 'em!

  –Patsy Cline

  The way I see it, there's a lot of great things and there should...there's no room for barriers. You know what I mean? There's no reason why you can't like Led Zeppelin, the Ramones, and Patsy Cline at the same time, and Motorhead, and uh, you know what I mean? I mean, if it’s great, it’s great.

  –Joey Ramone, Crusher magazine, 1989

  Patsy Cline and Kitty Wells, they were really the first. They pioneered the way for me and Tammy and Loretta. People used to think that women should stay home, have babies and sing in church or around the house. Then a few brave women got brave enough to try something. They proved to everyone that they could hack it just like the men.

  –Dolly Parton, 1976

  Haskell's notes sat before Zorbane as he switched on his system. Ah, prepare to be enlightened Zeon. He then began to read.

  “Virginia Patterson Hensley was born September 8th, 1932 in Gore, Virginia. She was summoned to the heavens on March 5th, 1963. She was known professionally as Patsy Cline, an American singer. Part of the early 1960s Nashville sound, Cline successfully "crossed over" to pop music and was one of the most influential, successful and acclaimed vocalists of the 20th century. She died at the age of 30 in a multiple-fatality crash in the private plane of her manager, Randy Hughes. That was an Earth era where many talents passed in small plane crashes: Patsy, Otis Redding, Ritchie Valens, Big Bopper and others, friends.

  Patsy's mother was a 16-year-old seamstress and her father a 20-year-old blacksmith when she came into the world. They moved around a lot until she was eight. When she was fourteen, her father up and left.

  Like Mahalia, Patsy began singing in church. She had perfect pitch. She was self-taught and could read music. When she was 13, she was hospitalized with a throat infection and rheumatic fever. Patsy explained, ‘The fever affected my throat and when I recovered I had this booming voice like Kate Smith.’ Perhaps divine intervention germs. You tell me, Zeon.

  To help support her family after her father abandoned them, she dropped out of high school and worked various jobs, often performing as a soda jerk and waitress by day at the Triangle Diner across the street from her school, John Handley High. After several weeks of watching performers through the window at her local radio station, she asked WINC disc jockey and talent coordinator Jimmy McCoy if she could sing on his show. Her first performance on radio in 1947 was so well received that she was asked back. This led to performances at local nightclubs, wearing fringed Western stage outfits that her mother made from Patsy's designs.

  Patsy Cline was truly the first female country artist who crossed over into pop music. She had the chops to sing just about any genre. On any planet that spoke the universal language of music.

  No Patsy:

  Maybe no Dolly.

  “Maybe no Tammy Wynette.

  Maybe no Loretta Lynn.

  No Martina McBride.

  No Miranda Lambert.

  No Taylor Swift.

  Patsy was feminism personified way before it was cool.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Tumblin' Dicey

  Jericho and Haskell were having lunch in a roadside diner near Flagstaff, Arizona, when Haskell's cell phone went off.

  Haskell looked at Jericho. "It's Louise," Haskell mouthed.

  Jericho and Haskell stared at each other. Haskell began to get up.

  "I have
a loud voice so I'll take this outside," whispered Haskell. He pushed open the diner door and made his way into the brightly lit parking lot.

  Jericho continued working on his BLT between sips of his Diet Coke. From their booth, he had a perfect view of Haskell talking to Louise on the phone. Leaning on their car, Haskell's face was strictly business.

  Looking at his smart phone, Jericho began to look over the map that Zorbane had sent for their rendezvous. He calculated that they still had a roughly six-hour drive to the legendary area north of Las Vegas known as Area 51. He signaled for the waitress to bring the check and to wrap Haskell's Italian sub.

  Outside Haskell began to pace.

  Jericho continued to look over his map when their waitress brought the bill and placed it and the wrapped sandwich on the table.