15. HIDDEN TALENTS, HAS OUR ILEACE; "You're Talking To". Saturday, 2023.
I walk down to Cubby's. It's a beautiful day. The Sun is still up. It's hot. I'm perspiring a little too much. I decided to 'dress up', white hat, red shirt, tan jeans, black cowboy boots. I have an identical red shirt. If I sweat this one up I'll change after my 'show' and be fresh again. I slow down, stroll, get there at 6:15. Nobody has signed up! I could have the opening slot if I wanted it. I don't want it. I put my name at 7:45, Gary E. Freakin' Andrews. I feel good.
People are eating, people are ordering, Petreace is hustling, grins at me, quietly says, "Hey! I saw that cop leaving your house last week!" She squeezes my bicep, keeps on trucking! She smells of patchouli and pot!
The kids come in, take the top slots. The older players come in, take some slots. It's not a full slate, still a couple openings above me. That's okay. I'm ready when they are. Sound guy is there, twiddling knobs, running up to the stage area... it's just an area at that end of the room... not a stage. There is a narrow stage, red carpeted, along the end of the room, and a baby grand is in an alcove on the left.
I go through the 'hole' to the bar. It's kind of full too. Noisy. Petreace is back behind the bar, hustle, hustle, serve, ring it up, run back to the other side, deliver meals to tables. I walk to the front door, look out, start back through the crowd. I come back over to the restaurant side. What was two empty tables at the back before is now... Sweet Baby Jesus! Daddy, Orlean, some good lookin' girl and the two kids, some guy, and... the prettiest girl in the room, in my lavender shirt! I set my guitar on the red carpet stage, up where my website can be seen,
www.garyeandrews.com .
I glance at the board. There, just above my name is another name; Ileace Calhoun. Ileace! Calfreakin'houn! What the hell kind of name is Calfreakin'houn? I laugh! I laugh some more! I turn around and there comes Ileace Calfreakin'houn down the middle aisle.
"Good evening!" I say. My voice sounds loud. My ears are ringing. It's noisy in here. I can hear cutlery on china. I hear chairs creak. I hear someone sneeze. I can't take my eyes off the prettiest girl in the room. She's grinning at me. She puts her hands on my chest, reaches up and puts them on my face, reaches up and pinches my lips between hers. Right in front of God and everybody!
"Let's get some air," she says, takes my hand, leads me up the aisle. Howard offers a fist bump. Orlean is grinning! She's doing introductions. The kids are waving at me. The guy's too far over on the other side of the table to shake hands, waves. Oh! Natan, Ileace's brother. His wife is pretty, grinning, nods her head. Ileace pulls me toward the door, tells them, "We're going to get some air!" Orlean offers a fist bump as I go by! I give it back!
Outside on the sidewalk, her car is parked at the curb. We lean on it. We cross our arms over our chests, stand there. I'm grinning at her. She's grinning at me. We're looking away. I'm grinning at the moon. The moon ain't up.
"So tonight's the night?" I say. "You're gonna debut your... your act, and your new song?"
"Yes, I am," she says, a positive vibe. "Tonight's the night! I've got butterflies! I've never played out like this. I played in college when we'd have people in the apartment. I played out 'under the elms' my last year there. I only had a few classes and had time. I finally knew enough songs and had written enough of my own to do it. There's money in my case from busking. I never took it out. I never meant to busk. People would open my case and put money in. I started leaving it open. It's not much but it was fun to think someone liked me well enough to drop in a coin or a dollar. One day two young girls who, apparently had just come to school listened to me a long time. When they got up to leave, they came over and said that was the first time they felt comfortable there. That made me feel good, 'Sharing the gift!' I thought."
"Just breathe," I advise her. "Get plenty of air, and have the good time you usually have when you play. Anyone listening will enjoy it just like you do!"
"Well I'm excited now!" I tell her. "I've been waiting for your song to... come up on your list. It finally did. Check!"
"You're the only thing on my list," she says, crosses her arms over her torso, looks down at the sidewalk. I want to kiss her. People are walking by. Natan's wife and the kids are watching.
The young kids are on stage, we can barely hear them out here. They do their act, one by one, duo by duo, and the night goes on. The moon rises over the hill by Mabert Road. It's huge! It looks huge near the horizon. She stands up, takes my hand, offers her mouth and I take it, gentle, just a kiss, not a bite. She leans against me, kisses me again. She rights herself. We go in. It's time for her! I stop at the door, by Howard and Orlean. She looks around at me, sweet smile on her face, lets go my hand, grins, turns away.
She goes on up the aisle. My lavender shirt comes down below her waist. I lust at her legs in her jeans. She's ready, pulls out a big Martin guitar! She steps to the mic. Sound guy plugs her in. He talks. She talks but we can't quite hear her. Sound guy tells her, "Get closer to the mic!" She does. Her voice comes through loud and clear, too loud. She quiets down.
"I'm not used to playing electrically," she explains. "I usually play acoustically and just sing without a microphone. This is a new experience for me, my first Open Mic! I'm... scared!" She laughs. I can tell... she sounds... she's nervous.
Some people applaud her. She grins. I can tell she's blushing. She's beautiful. I love her eyes! She's grinning, fusses with the strap at her neck. My lavender shirt shines in the light. Her dark skin, her tan against the lavender. She's... I feel my heart beating, look around, wonder if anyone else hears it.
She strums. Turns on her tuner, makes a couple adjustments. Strums again. She's ready.
She plays an old folk song. I've heard it before. Something about a buggy, I think. I can't retain it! It has one part in the Melody that I've always loved, an ascending trill, then descending. It's the only thing I know about the song. It ends. They applaud! Applause is genuine! She's grinning. She won't look at me, us, to the back of the room. Her family applauds, some of them embarrassingly fast, loud and long. Orlean is genuine, claps normally. Natan and his wife are standing by the windows. The kids are squirming in their chairs, grinning, high-fiving.
Ileace starts another song. It's... it's "Both Sides Now". She's crushing it! She's good! She's moving through it. There's a little stumble, a missed chord, strings muted, a mumbled line. She keeps going! It ends. They applaud. Family has settled down. Her sister-in-law is beaming at Natan, turns to the kids, bright-faced enthusiasm! The kids are enthusiastic! The little girl is standing up beside her chair, seeming transfixed at her aunt on the stage.
Her third song; "I just wrote this," she says. It's called, "You're Talking..." what? What did she.. . What? 'You're... Talking Too?' You're Talking To... Two? Too.'
"It's not... about anything, anybody," she says. "My mother says it's 'harsh! She thought it was about me. It's not. It's just a fictional... story. It's just... It may be a sad story, for somebody, but... nobody I know. Not me though."
Some people applaud, just a few claps. Some chuckle. She's so charming!
They quiet down. Forks tap on plates. Chairs squeak. People talk at their tables. There's noise from the bar.
A bass riff, just four notes, E - G - A - E. She strums an E minor, down-up-down, on the third and fourth beats of the bar.
Repeats the bass, the strum.
A third time. She strums Em7 and sings;
"You've been singing the blues, (rest, but her voice sustains the last note, in a quiet vibrato)
every since you got home! Am7
I've been list-en-ing to, Em7
you talk on the phone. Am7
I've been wondering who, B7
You're Talking To. Em
The bass riff, Em strum.
Repeat, riff, strum, sing,
You've been walking the floor, (A beat! One, two downstroke, one, two, three! Down-up-down!)
in the middle of the night! (Back to the slow strum)
We don't talk any more!
All we do is fight.
I've been fighting the urge,
to slip away one night!
Bass riff and,
One more bad decision, I've got to make! Am7 Bm7 (Choppin' those chords! On the Beat! Some bass notes!)
One more mad collision, before I break! Am7 Bm7
I've been wondering who, Am7 Am6
You're Talking To! Em, the riff!
I've been wondering who, Am7 Am6
You're Talking To! Em
Bass riff/strum, three times. The audience is applauding! Someone started and everyone... or... a bunch of 'em joined in!
Holy Shittake!
She sings;
I've been singing the blues, (She... she speaks it... It's just... her voice... Ileace... talking, telling...)
the whole while you've been gone. (Sings it!)
Now there's nothing new,
since you've come back home.
I've been wondering who,
You're Talking To.
I've been wondering who, Am7 Am6
You're Talking To.
The riff, the strum, again... again, the bass riff and end.
The place is in an uproar! People are coming in from the bar, crowding the stage. I can see her grinning, smiling, nodding. Those wonderful lips are saying 'Thank you' and 'Yes'. 'Thank you' and 'Yes'. I hear her over the mic, 'Thank you' and 'Yes'. 'I wrote it!' 'Thank you' and 'Yes'.
Howard, turns around, reaches and pokes his fist in my belly! He's grinning! Orlean is crying and grinning. Natan is standing, applauding. His wife standing, applauding. The whole place is talking, loud, noisy, crazy, crowding the aisle. I back out the door, go in the bar. Seems like the whole damned crowd is around the 'hole' over into the restaurant. Petreace sees me, motions me to come. She grabs my right hand, plows through the crowd, me in tow, gets me right up to Ileace. Ileace has put her guitar in her case. She stands up and turns, and sees me. She's grinning already but there's a perceptible change in her face. Grabs me! A kiss, just a nice normal, 'Hey baby!' kiss. Petreace takes her by the hand, plows through the crowd. Ileace looks back at me! She looks like she's on drugs! Ecstatic!
I watch their heads moving away up the aisle. The whole crowd of those standing here has turned away from the stage, looking after her. I strap on my guitar. Sound guy is standing staring back through the room. I take the guitar cord out of his hand, plug in. He recovers, gets back to his table. People are going back into the bar. The people in the restaurant are talking to Ileace. Petreace is coming back, grins at me, rolls her eyes to the ceiling, plows back over to the bar. Ileace is going from table to table, stopping to talk to them, on the left, bending, left hand comes up to her shoulder, hand cups at her ear, relaxes, stays there by her neck, her lovely neck, a few steps, bends to her right, right hand comes up, talking, nodding, working her way back to her family. They're all on their feet, still, her standing ovation. The children grab her. Natan's wife is beaming into her face. Group hug, Natan in the back, reaching around them all. Howard, Orly, standing, grinning.
I play three songs. I forget what they are. I get applause. Not uproarious applause; but... applause. Karaoke girl is setting up. I pick up my case, and Ileace's case, walk back up the aisle. Her family are getting up, going out the door. I'm there to bring up the rear. Ileace is beaming, grinning at me. She takes her guitar. "That was fun!" she says over her shoulder, going out the door. I laugh.
"Yeah!" I say, "that WAS fun! That was a whole LOT of fun!" Outside there are hugs and laughter and lots of people talking over each other, short comments and joking. Natan reaches to shake my hand. So does his wife.
Orlean, looking at Ileace, says, "A Star Is Born"!
She's grinning, a spitting image of her daughter. They hug. Howard gives me a hand-shake! Orlean gives me a quick hug, lets go, says, "Good night!" The kids are grinning up at me, little squeaky voices, talking through laughter. I'm watching them all go down the sidewalk.
Orlean is warning, "Be careful! This curb is eight feet deep!" Ileace is watching me, not them. I turn to look into... that face.
"Baby, that was amazing!," I tell her. "You stole the show! You stole the night! They loved you!"
"I know!" she says, truly astonished herself.
I step to her, pinch her lips between mine, kiss the corners of her mouth, kiss her full on the lips. "That song is killer!" I whisper.
I step back. I look down the sidewalk where her family's cars are pulling out. We wave.
"Okay," I say, reaching to shake her hand. She looks confused, switches her guitar to her left hand to shake mine. "I'm gonna head to my house. I walked down again."
"My car's right here!" she says. We were leaning on it for an hour earlier. I know where it is.
"Yeah, I... I think I'll walk home," I tell her. "Maybe... Maybe I'll... run into you somewhere, like, down the street, sometime."
She's grinning. My girl gets me.
"Okay," she says. "But, my car... right here." She pops the trunk, puts her guitar in. She's gesturing at the trunk, gesturing at my guitar, both arms gesturing at the car. I'm grinning at her, but... I really just... can't take my eyes off her. Who knew? She's... amazing! Brains and beauty and talent, all in one package! She closes her trunk. She's looking around, not at me. She goes around the car, grinning, says, "I've gotta go. I'm meeting a friend and I really wanna get there as soon as possible, because... I really like him. He's... come up on my list... I finally... you know... got to him... on my list."
"Watch out for that guy!" I tell her. "He's up to no good!"
"I'm up to no good too!" she says, treble-chuckles.
"Okay," I tell her, "Nice seein' ya." She shakes her head, negatively, grinning, gets in. I hear the car start as I walk away. I'm really walking, fast as my little black cowboy boots will carry me. I hear her pull out, shift fast through four on the floor! She turns at the corner, tires squealing a little. I glance back, see her go right, instead of left toward... my house. I worry that she's misunderstood my silliness! No. No. My girl gets me!
As I get close to Offnere Street I see her go slowly by. Her radio cranks up the jams! She goes out of sight. The radio goes quiet. I turn the corner onto Offnere. I can see her, in the second block down, pulling into the lot, and parking in the first parking space in the lot at the first store in the strip mall, not on down in the usual spot. She's out, leaning on the car. I see her put her hands beside her on the fender, lift herself up, spin to sit lotus-fashion. She lays back on the windshield, stretches her legs out, stretches arms up over her head. I have to slow down. I'm huffing and puffing, my guitar case bouncing off my leg at intervals, painfully!
I laugh to myself. I laugh at myself.
As I get close she says, "Hey! You! Play a song for me!"
"Why darlin'," I say, "every song I play is for you!"
She pops the trunk. "Take me home with you, and play your songs for me," she says. I'm a cooperative guy. I put my guitar in the trunk, go to the door. It's locked! She's laughing when I get in! At the apartment she backs in, turns off the key, leans over and kisses me. Gets out, pops the trunk, hands me my guitar. Gets hers out. I go up the walk. She's behind me. I open the storm door, step in, set my guitar behind the door, push the storm door open for her. She comes in, I'm closing the door, locking it. I feel her hand run across the small of my back. She's up on the landing, going up the stairs, guitar and all, in a run!
"We're not supposed to run up the stairs!" I tell her. She stops, halfway up, turns around, coordinating her guitar case in the space of the stairwell, runs back down, eyebrows up, eyes wide, a lovely smile on her face becomes a grin.
"Petreace told me nobody lives next door!" she says. She leans down and kisses me, says, "I'm gonna run up! You take your time, conserve your energy!"
She turns and goes back up, but not at a run. She's got my lavender shirt pulled up around her waist. I admire her jeans, follow. "One of the great pleasures... of making love to a woman... is watching her climb the stairs ahead of you." I think Richard Thompson said that.
"Bring your guitar!" she calls from the top of the stairs. "We might have a midnight jam!"
We're in the bedroom. She sets her guitar over by the closet. Comes to my side of the bed. Opens the nightstand drawer, reaches in, comes up with a condom! She bites it open, lays it by the radio.
She passes by me, goes to the other side of the bed, finishes what she started on the stairs, unbuttoning her shirt. Pulls her pants off, kicks them off on the floor. She's in bra and panties, starts shaking out the quilt, squares it up, folds it down toward the foot of the bed. She lies on the fresh lavender sheet I put on this morning. I wonder if she notices my new pillow... her new pillow. I turn away, undressing. I hear her stand up. When I turn around she's wearing the lavender shirt again. Then, she's on her hands and knees, crawls across the bed, comes, raises upright.
"Now, about this list of eleven places..." she says.
"Well," I tell her, five of them are right here," and I try to bite her left shoulder, can't get to it. "You'll have to unbutton that top button on your shirt," I tell her. She does. I push it off her left shoulder, nip at her skin five times, moving in toward her neck, "and five are here," and I push the shirt off her right shoulder, and I'm biting her, "and number eleven is here," and I try to bite under her chin, but have to take hold of her and lay her back on the bed, her head at the foot, on the folded quilt. She's laughing. I'm giggling
"I will never tell you 'No'," she says, kissing me. She's breathless, breathing deeply.
Feeling the need to reciprocate that expression of... whatever... I say, "And I will never forget your birthday!"
She looks at me. Triple chuckles, and again.
"What?" she asks. I just grin. We'll talk later. Ileace. Ileace. Ileace. Ileace Calhoun. Woman, thy name is love.
THE...BEGINNING.
"You're Talking To", copyright October 21, 2022, by Gary E. Andrews.
Last edited by Gary E. Andrews; 10/13/24 08:39 PM.
