CHAPTER THREE
Judy drove overly cautious it seemed to John. She was a very feminine and animated speaker. Once she warmed to him a little she talked non-stop about her family, brother, dreams and what she was studying in her junior year in college. She was attending the University of Texas at Austin and she was majoring in business with an elective in accounting.
She drove from Hall’s Music Emporium, which was actually a long ways from down town, to a nice middle income residential neighborhood. John rode in silence, listening to Judy talk. He found he loved listening to her and watching her while she talked. He had been a little surprised when she had taken a pair of small rectangular eye glasses from her purse and put them on in the car. His heart melted.
Her car was an oxidized, faded, light blue Monte Carlo Sport. The interior was worn and torn. The fenders were dented and one of the back windows was a piece of cardboard cut to fit, duct-taped in place. The passenger door hung on worn hinge pins and had to be lifted slightly before it would close properly. Despite all its faults it seemed to run perfectly and had plenty of get-up and go.
Their house was a one story half-brick from the sixties. In the middle of the roof was a chimney for a fireplace. Around it, the shingles were bare in places and in obvious need of replacement. It was pretty much the same design as the rest of the houses in the tract. The grass in the yard was pretty much like the shingles on the roof; bare in places and a dried out tannish-brown. There was an abandoned bicycle leaned up against the three steps up front porch. Two four-inch square posts held up the small roof over the porch. John figured it was only there to protect the rusting black mail box on the left-hand side of the plain wood door with a diamond shaped window high up.
In the driveway two cars and a pickup sat. The pickup was up on blocks and had been for quite a while from what John could see.
“Looks like the girls are here,” Judy stated a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Avon girls,” she clarified.
John didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. He followed her to the door and inside feeling conspicuous and just a bit out of place.
In the living room there were eight women sitting on every available place. The whole house smelled like a perfume factory. John was nearly overwhelmed by the cloying stench of the many different scents. It was thick and he could taste it on his tongue. He rubbed his nose, as Judy closed the door behind them.
“Now, that’s what I call a handsome man!” Misty Rivers stated in a knowing tone, when she looked up at the sound of the closing door. Misty was tall, blond and in her late thirties or early forties. She was still very attractive and not bashful about checking John out from head to foot.
“Behave Mom!” Judy said, turning slightly red in the face, turning from the door and surveying the women. “This is John Travis. He wants to look at the apartment.”
“I hope he does more than just look!” Misty laughed suggestively. The other women laughed and commented, nodding their heads in total agreement with Misty. They all nine looked at John lustfully, as if any one of them would, and could, eat him in one bite if given the chance.
“Come on John,” Judy said embarrassed at the wantonness of her mother and her friends. “I’ll show you the apartment.” She took him by the arm, held it possessively tight and led him through the house and out the back door to the garage apartment.
“Lucky girl!” she heard one of the women say as they went through the kitchen.
“Sometimes they are very embarrassing!” she said disapprovingly.
“I’m mostly honored. They don’t mean no harm,” John defended them. “They’re just teasin’ me an’ playin’ a little.”
“Hah!” Judy barked.
In the living room Misty looked around like the cat that ate the canary. She defended herself by saying, “Well, you know I’ve been single for five years now. I’m gotta take it where I can get it!”
“Yeah me too!” several of her friends agreed at once. Then they all laughed when one of them said “Any place! Any way, too!”
John gave Misty a hundred of his two hundred dollars and carried his guitar cases to his new three room apartment. There was a bedroom and a bathroom and living room. He laid the cases on the bed and opened them. He sat looking at the guitars for a long time. Not having a clue what he was doing, he began to try and tune the Martin acoustic.
He had been at it for over an hour when a knock sounded on his door. He lay the guitar aside and opened it. A young boy stood looking up at him. He was maybe twelve, John guessed, with brown hair and blue eyes. It was easy to tell he was Judy’s brother. He stood beside a taller and older boy. The boy, John guessed, was maybe eighteen. He was tall, with red hair, freckles across his nose, and green eyes.
“Hi John, I’m Billy, Judy’s brother and this is my friend Danny.” the boy said with a large friendly smile. “Can we come in?”
“Hi,” Danny said a little shyly.
“Sure, come on in,” John said, holding the door and stepping back out of the way.
“Danny plays the guitar,” Billy said, leading the way into the room.
“Just a little,” Danny confessed. “I’m not very good. But, I brought these. They may help, some,” he said showing John the books and videos he had brought.
“What are these?” John asked, looking at them and the tapes, then handing them back.
“Training books, man. To study. You won’t learn to play the guitar over night!” Danny stated incredulously.
“Will you show me?” John asked, seeing his potential salvation.
“That’s why I’m here, my man,” Danny replied smugly. “So, let’s get started,” he added stepping to the bed and looking into the guitar cases. He stood as if frozen in place. He dragged a deep breath into his chest and sighed a breathless, “Holy Shit!” as if in disbelief. “You know what you got here?”
“Two guitars in cases,” John replied, not having a clue what Danny was talking about.
“Man, you got maybe the two best guitars ever made! May I?” he asked, indicating his desire to pick up the Martin D-10.
“Guess you’ll have too if you are going to show me.”
Danny picked the Martin up out of the case reverently as if afraid he would damage it. He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, made a G cord on the neck and strummed the strings. “Aaaahhh! No wonder you can’t play these,” he grimaced painfully. “I guess you don’t know how to tune them.”
“I don’t know anything,” John confessed truthfully, shaking his head sadly.
“We got a long way to go, then,” Danny grinned knowingly. He began to tune the guitar until it was close to perfect.
“Mess it all up again and let me try,” John said when Danny had pronounced it in tune.
Danny smiled and began turning the tuning pegs until the tuning was devastated. When he was satisfied he handed the guitar to John and watched him, smiling with doubt.
“I’m usually pretty good about being able to do things after I see them done once or twice,” John said tuning the low E string, then moving to the A string, one string down. He then went through D, G, B, and finally the high E. He then made a G cord and strummed the strings. It was pretty close to dead in tune.
“Awesome!” Billy declared.
“Don’t bull-crap me, Man!” Danny said, slightly angry. He felt John was playing him; that he could really play the guitar and was just trying to embarrass him in front of Billy. He knew he needed a drink, or a smoke! Hell, even a toke! It was unbelievable that this guy could pick tuning a guitar up on the first go around. “Do you know how to play or not?”
“I don’t,” John answered sincerely. “Like I said, I can usually pick something up after seeing it once or twice.”
“Yeah, right,” Danny said with a knowing grin. “Wait ‘till you see these!” He held the discs up knowing there was no way John could pick up Kurt Hammitt’s licks the first time around. Not even on the tenth time around he was betting. “I’ve been studying these
for months, now, and still can’t do ‘em right every time.”
“Let’s see ‘em and see, then,” John said. “Maybe I won’t be able to do ‘em at all.”
“We’ll have to go to the TV in the living room,” Billy said, getting up and going for the door.
John laid the guitar in the case, then he and Danny followed Billy. Danny noticed and said, wonderingly, “You’re not bringing it?”
“What for,” John asked ignorantly.
“Well, to practice on. What else?”
“Either I’ll remember it or I won’t, right?” John asked seriously.
Danny smiled sensing John’s total failure. Inside he was pleased beyond belief. It would do his heart good to see this strange guy fail. “Yeah, right!” he said, following Billy.
In the living room Billy turned the TV on and inserted one of the video discs into the DVD player and started it. They sat in silence watching the world class guitar player run through his licks, explaining as he went.
“I never knew a guitar could be played like that,” John said breathlessly, his eyes bulging in disbelief.
“He’s a master, that’s for sure!” Danny agreed. “Think you can do it like that, John?” he asked facetiously.
“Maybe,” John smiled back. “Ain’t but one way to find out. Right?”
Danny and Billy laughed, then hurried to follow John back to his apartment to see if he could do all the licks they had just seen.
“Did you really get all that?” Billy asked, disbelievingly.
“I think so,” John confessed confidently. “It’s like I have a guitar fret board in my mind and my fingers just know where to go and what to do. Maybe not exactly, but I think with time I’ll get it down exact.”
“Yeah, maybe in about twenty years!” Danny said sarcastically.
As they passed through the kitchen Judy said, “John, you don’t have to prove anything to these two yo-yos!”
“Go away, Judy-pooty!” Billy said meanly, as younger brothers will often do.
“Be nice to your sister, Billy,” John said. “She is the only one you have. If something bad were to happen to her, how would you live with how you were mean to her?”
“Ain’t nothing gonna happen to her,” he replied confidently.
“So, you can predict the future, now?” John asked, opening the door of his apartment and stepping inside.
When they were out of hearing of the kitchen, Misty said, “He’ll have to prove himself sooner or later. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”
“He’s so kind and innocent, I don’t like them trying to embarrass him, that’s all,” Judy replied, looking at the door the boys had just gone through.
“He’s certainly not the smartest man I’ve ever met,” Misty said thoughtfully. “He’ll have to face harsher critics if he’s ever to make something of himself. So, he may as well get used to it now. It’s a tough profession for anyone. Can he sing?”
“You would not believe how he can sing, Momma,” Judy replied dreamily. “His voice is so beautiful,” she added.
“It’ll have to be,” Misty said. “Just think of all the singers in the world. Shoot, in Austin for that matter. And consider how many have made it big in the music business. That will give you an idea of his chances, before you get your heart all set on him being famous.”
“But he’ll make it, Momma,” Judy assured her.
In the apartment over the garage, Danny went into the bedroom and grabbed the D-10 from the case. He carried it back into the living room and handed it to John, who had taken a seat on the sofa.
John took a few seconds to look at the fret board, as if memorizing it. He held the guitar and gripped the neck up toward the headstock, then closed his eyes and began to visualize what Kurt Hammitt had done on the DVD.
“Show us what you know, Superstar,” Danny said facetiously, then laughed enjoying John’s uncertainty.
“I think he did this,” John said without opening his eyes or looking at the fret board. “But, I never heard it in a country song before...”
“It’s not,” Danny interrupted. “That’s Kurt Hammitt of Metallica fame. Awesome guitarist! You’ll never be that good, so don’t get your hopes up...” he continued, then his voice faded off as he began to hear the same music licks he had heard on the DVD.
Danny stood up, his face turning red in anger. He glared at Billy, then at John. He began to tremble, believing he had been played for a fool. “Why?” he demanded, glaring at Billy. “I’ve never done anything to you! But be your friend! Why do you shame me?” His voice held a note of very deep hurt and disappointment.
John looked up innocently. “I’ve never played a guitar before, Danny. I promise,” he said honestly, bewildered at Danny’s anger. “We never...”
“It’s all your fault, Billy!” Danny yelled, his reasoning evading him. “You brought him to show me up! Embarrass me! I thought we were friends!”
“Somes got it and some ain’t, Danny,” Billy replied, not realizing how insanely upset Danny really was. “You ain’t! Not like John. Besides, Danny, Judy brought John here, not me!”
Danny glared at the two, turned, and stomped to and out the door, slamming it hard behind him.
“What’s wrong with him?” John asked innocently, his eyes indicating his absolute confusion.
“He don’t seem to be real stable, huh?” Billy grinned, failing to realize the seriousness of the incident.
“Guess not,” John agreed, not knowing what else to say, then went back to running through the riffs.
Billy watched in awe as John’s fingers began to move faster and faster. He stared at the concentration and intensity of John’s expression. “I gotta go tell Judy!” Billy declared, jumping up and running from the apartment. He didn’t notice that John hadn’t even looked up from his practicing.
Billy came through the kitchen door like a tornado. “He is so awesome!” he said overly loud and excited.
“Why?” Judy asked, completely at a loss for Billy’s excitement.
“John didn’t miss a note!” he declared, gripping his fist in front of his face excitedly. “He played everything on the video like a pro! Danny said he was a fake! Just trying to embarrass him. Said it was all my fault! I said you brought ‘im! He still got mad and left. Probably won’t be back, either...”
“Slow down and breathe, Billy,” Misty laughed, enjoying seeing her baby so excited. “You’ll pass out!”
Judy jumped up from the chair where she had been sitting talking to her mother. She ran from the kitchen excitedly, wiping tears of joy from her eyes. She thought her tears were for her gratitude that John had not been embarrassed.
John was still sitting on the sofa when Judy came through the door without knocking. She stood crying, staring at John without speaking. He lay the guitar aside and stood up. Whoa,” he said softly. “What’s wrong, Judy?”
“I’m so proud of you!” she cried, moving closer to him.
“You are? Why?” he asked innocently.
“Cause you showed ‘em you’re a genius!” she said looking lovingly up into his eyes. It was only then she realized she could love him quite easily and that he was quite a bit taller than her. And actually a lot bigger than he looked.
“But, I’m not, Judy,” he said calmly. “Truth is, I’m not real smart. I just remember some things better than most other folks. I got it from my Daddy, I guess. That’s what Momma always said, anyway.”
“You’re gonna be famous, John Travis!” she said seriously. “Just you wait and see!” she added kissing him quickly on the lips. Then kissed him again, longer this time.
John stood like a statue, feeling the warmth and softness of her lips on his and feeling his heart swell and go out to this innocent girl who had trusted him from the moment they met. She was unlike any girl he had ever known. Not that he had ever known that many girls. He had certainly never had sex with one. They didn’t seem to like him; considered him strange. And here was this girl h
e hardly knew kissing him right on the lips! He was stunned beyond words. He felt a swelling in his groin and stepped back, embarrassed.
“What?” Judy asked seeing John was deep in thought.
“Only my Momma ever kissed me before. And that was on the cheek!” he replied.
“I’m not your momma.”
“When I’m famous, I won’t forget you, Judy Rivers.”
“I sure hope not, John Travis.” She stepped back and dropped her arms to her side. She looked at him a little embarrassed at her forwardness. She had never acted so compulsively before. In fact she had never been alone with a boy in his apartment before. She turned away and walked out the door without looking back. She closed the door behind her gently, feeling as if she were floating.
John sat down on the sofa and picked up the guitar. He began running through the riffs again. As he did he added his own ideas and improvisations. His full concentration was on the neck of the guitar and the sounds coming from it. He had already forgotten Danny, and Judy.
Just Beyond the Curve Page 4
