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From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Lucky Stiff by JiMC (39 of 46)--MF, FF, mc, md, magic, romance
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Date: Tue, 20 Sep 2005 03:10:02 -0400
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This story is copyright (c) 2003-2005.  All rights are
reserved by the author, including that of publication.
Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly
granted by the author, and then only for the complete story,
including this disclaimer.  Contact the author at
<jimc-author at excite dot com> for more information,
referring to this story ("Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff").

I explicitly grant permission to post this story to
StoriesOnline.net and asstr-mirror.org.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional.  There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they are
not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations
in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to
the one we live in.  Most of the characters in this story are
under aged.  However, the target audience is adults (people
over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story "Lucky Tickets," and as such,
you may want to read that story first to get a better
introduction to the characters present in both stories.  Like
a lot of sequels, it's not really meant to be read out of
order.

* * *

Chapter 39--Wild Weekend I

        Well, I'm a runnin' down the road,
        Tryin' to loosen my load,
        Got a world of trouble on my mind.
        Lookin' for a lover who won't blow my cover,
        She's so hard to find.
                -- Take It Easy (The Eagles)


    On Friday, I talked with Mr. Proilet after band class.

    "I have an idea for the talent show."

    Mr. Proilet looked a bit surprised.  "An idea?"

    That look made me feel a bit sheepish.  "Well, I was
originally thinking about entering the talent show this year.
When I told Sherry, she told me that if I entered, nobody
else would show up.  I think she was probably exaggerating,
but she did make me think about it."

    Mr. Proilet smiled.  "It could be intimidating to others
to know that you are on the schedule to perform.  What's the
expression?  'Nobody wants to follow Jimi Hendrix?'"

    I protested that remark.  "I don't even play the guitar!"

    "You were saying that you had an idea for the show," my
teacher said, bringing us back to the topic at hand.  "Do you
really want to perform?"

    "Actually, I had an idea," I said.  "What if we donated
the services of the jazz band for the people who wanted to
perform?"

    "Donate?"

    "The big problem I've seen with school talent shows is
that you get a few people playing the piano, or a few of the
musicians in the band or orchestra playing duets and stuff
like that.  There are a few people doing other things, like
juggling or even telling jokes, but the majority of them do
musical things."

    "Uh, huh."

    "I remember in elementary school, kids used to mouth the
words to songs on a record.  I think we might be able to get
a few people to do that again... but with a band behind them,
so that instead of just mouthing the words, they're really
singing."

    Mr. Proilet was quiet for a few moments.  "Wouldn't that
turn it from showcasing the talents of the students into
showcasing the jazz band?"

    "We could use the band as the glue to keep everything
together.  Put on a show like Ed Sullivan... you know."

    Mr. Proilet laughed.  "Maybe that could work.  I don't
remember you bringing this up at the rehearsal yesterday."

    "I didn't," I said.  "I had the idea last night."

    "You may want to find out how the other members of the
jazz band feel about you volunteering them."

    "Actually, I figured that I'd just ask for volunteers and
see who does.  We have quite a few people, and this would be
a good way to find out who really has the drive to play as
opposed to simply being a part of something that's become
popular."

    "Hmm, that's a good idea," Mr. Proilet said, pondering
that thought.  "Let me talk it over with Mr. Ryan and Ms.
Kendall.  I think they'll love the idea of the jazz band
getting involved."

    Those two people were the orchestra leader and the chorus
instructor, respectively.  They, along with Mr. Proilet, were
running the talent show.

    I nodded.  "Thanks."

    I had some other ideas about the talent show, but I
decided to keep them to myself for the time being.

* * *

    I saw Sherry at lunch, and she didn't seem as disturbed
as she was yesterday.  I did notice some looks exchanged
between June and Sherry when they didn't think I was looking.

    Sitting in the cafeteria, I kept thinking about the
previous school year when I had Patty and Kristen at lunch
with me.  I really missed those two very much.

    "What's on your mind, Jim?" June asked, breaking me out
of my reverie.

    "I was just thinking about last year."

    "You were frowning... does that mean you are missing
Kristen?"

    I think I must have blushed as June knew exactly what I
was thinking.  "Yeah."

    June pulled me toward her into a hug.  "Poor Oogie."

    This generated some giggles from the other cheerleaders
at the table.

    "Thanks, Juicy," I said to June, as I got up from the
table.

    "Juicy?" Sherry asked, confused.

    "Ask June," I said, suppressing a giggle myself.  I
wondered if June would actually tell Sherry about that
nickname that, up until now, I had only used with her
privately.

    "Where are you going?" Sherry asked.  "There's still
another half hour."

    "I'm going to one of the music practice rooms.  I want to
see if I can put together some music."

    I could feel the heat on my back as a bunch of female
eyes watched me leave.

* * *

    Mr. Proilet looked up from his desk as I walked into the
music room.  I simply smiled at him as I walked to one of the
practice rooms and shut the door behind me.  I started to
play, from memory, the piano intro to the song that had been
playing in my head for a day or so now.

    I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I barely
heard the bell signifying the end of the period.  I had music
sheets everywhere all over the room.

    "Shit!" I said, grabbing all of the sheets and trying to
get them in some semblance of order.

    It was only after I got out of the practice room and saw
the familiar people in the music room that I realized that my
next period was Music Theory... I was already in the room
that I needed to be in!

    My teacher smiled at me and saw the stack of papers that
were in my hand.  "Getting a head start on classwork?"

    "Um..." I looked sheepishly at the scores in my hand.
"Yeah... I guess.  I lost track of the time..."

    Most of the room laughed at me, including my teacher.

    Mr. Proilet nodded toward the practice room.  "You can go
back to what you were doing, Jim.  I'll have somebody let you
know when there's about five minutes before the bell.  All
right?"

    "Um... thanks..."

    I went back to the practice room and continued scoring
and doodling on the piano.  I made a mental note to talk with
the Swifts--preferably Charlie--later this evening.

* * *

    At the end of U.S. history, my last class of the day, I
watched Sherry and the other students walk out of the room.
I was about to go when I remembered a question that I wanted
to ask my teacher.

    "Mr. Stiles, do you have a few minutes to talk about
something?"

    The teacher looked at me and smiled.  "Sure, Jim.  What's
on your mind?"

    "I have a general question about history and wondered if
you could help me."

    Mr. Stiles raised his eyebrows and said, "Hmm.  What's
the question?"

    "Actually, there are a couple of questions.  First, have
you ever heard the expression, 'With great power comes great
responsibility?'" I recalled hearing Sherry use that
expression the other day.

    The teacher smiled.  "Ah, Spiderman and the eternal
loneliness of the super hero."

    Ah, yes!  That's where I heard it.  I nodded to the
teacher and decided to take an alternate track.  "We've all
heard the expression, 'Power corrupts.  Absolute power
corrupts, absolutely.' Does history really bear this out?"

    My history teacher looked at me a bit strangely.  "Hitler
had absolute power."

    I was ready for that particular example.  After all, I've
spent many sleepless nights considering the power of the
tickets and the repercussions of them.  "It can be argued
that Hitler was corrupted before he came to power.  He wrote
'Mein Kampf' when he was in prison."

    This impressed my teacher.  "You have a good point there.
Why are you asking these questions?"

    "I was wondering if the expression is true.  I mean, what
if you had absolute power, but knew the expression and tried
to avoid corruption?"

    "Your question sounds like one that you'd hear in an
intro philosophy course in college."

    I smiled.  "I took some college courses, but not
philosophy."

    "Ah, yes," Mr. Stiles said, smiling.  "Jean Proilet and
his music courses."

    I nodded, not knowing what to say next.

    My teacher looked at me thoughtfully.  "I think history
shows us that Peter Parker's dilemma does bear out.  For
instance, we have Leonid Brezhnev and President Ford as the
world leaders with the most power.  Each one has to walk on
eggshells to avoid insulting the other too much.  At the same
time, they both have to appear strong to their
constituencies, but not scare the rest of the world into
thinking that another world war is about to erupt."

    "I never thought about it like that."

    "How familiar are you with the British?"

    "Huh?" I asked, a bit surprised by the question.  "You
mean England?"

    "Yes.  They are ruled by a prime minister.  However, they
also have a queen: Queen Elizabeth.  She was crowned in 1953,
and before that, she was called the Heir Presumptive."

    I interjected.  "Presumptive?  I've heard of the term
'Heir Apparent.'"

    My teacher smiled.  "If her parents had a son after she
was born, he would have been entitled 'Heir to the Throne.'
The titles are specific and are taken very seriously in Great
Britain."

    I nodded, not truly understanding the traditions and
terminology.

    "Anyway, as I was saying, Queen Elizabeth is the Queen of
England, a position that is now relatively ceremonial.
However, despite that, she has to act like a monarch at all
times.  When royalty visits her country, the official
position is that they visit the Queen.  In addition, the
Queen has to give royal affirmation before any bill from
parliament becomes law."

    I nodded, not quite understanding where my teacher was
going with this.

    "In reality, the Queen's job is to remain neutral in
political matters.  The Queen signs all laws as a mere
formality.  The Queen and her family still act in public as
they are expected to... something that we in the United
States sometimes consider pompous.  However, the nobility in
Britain take their titles seriously.  Her son Charles, the
Duke of Cornwall, became the Prince of Wales in 1958,
although the ceremony didn't take place until 1969 at the age
of twenty-one.  He is the Heir Apparent to the British
Throne."

    "OK..." I said slowly, very much confused.

    "I'm sorry for rattling on about this.  It's one of my
passions, actually.  Anyway, there is a term that is applied
to people of noble birth.  I forget the person that coined
the term, but it's called 'Noblesse Oblige'--the obligation
of nobility to act according to a noble code of conduct, just
like the ancient knights--acting for the good of all the
people without regard to yourself."

    "Noblesse...?"

    "Noblesse Oblige," Mr. Stiles repeated.  "It's French,
and means, literally, 'Noble Obligation.'"

    "Noblesse Oblige," I said, trying out the expression.

    "I was explaining about power before, and it occurred to
me that in order to wield power properly, you need to use it
selflessly.  Let's take you for example."

    This last statement startled me.  "Um... me?"

    "You, Mr. Crittenhouse," Mr. Stiles said, smiling.  "You
are an extremely gifted and talented musician.  Jean Proilet
raved about you even while you were in junior high school.
Last year when you took over the Jazz Band, you could have
used it as a platform to show everybody think you were great.
I've seen other students in similar situations do things like
that.  However, you allowed your fellow musicians take their
solos, and made each member look great.  I went to every one
of your concerts, and to each performance of the school
musical.  Not once did you take a solo!  You were just at the
podium, letting every other student shine."

    As usual, such praise from a teacher started to embarrass
me.

    "Now do you see what I mean by the responsibilities of
power?" Mr. Stiles asked.

    "Huh?"

    "Instead of shining the spotlight on yourself, which
would have been easy, you instead shined that spotlight on
your fellow students." My history teacher put his hands
together.  "Everybody realized that it was you behind the
scenes that was responsible for the spring concert.  You were
there arranging parts, helping your fellow students rehearse,
and, if my information is correct, even helping an athlete
learn to read music in just a few months.  You may not have
known the term 'Noblesse Oblige,' but you were living it."

    I didn't know what to say in response.

    My teacher didn't wait for any comment from me.  He said,
"If anything, power incurs responsibility.  If not, nature
has a way of rectifying things.  If a leader is powerful and
does not act in a responsible way, the situation will
eventually be rectified.  In the example of Hitler, who did
indeed experience close to absolute power in Europe, his
irresponsible actions caused one of his country's allies to
change sides, forcing Germany to once again fight a world war
on two fronts.  This directly led to his downfall."

    There was some silence as my teacher allowed his words to
sink in.

    "Hmm," I finally said.  "I'll need to think about that."

    "That's never a bad idea.  A teacher always likes to hear
that his students want to think about something!"

    The two of us laughed, and it broke the tension that
started when my teacher was lavishing his praise on my
talents.  There was something embarrassing about having those
kinds of things told to me by adults.

    The time was getting late, so I thanked my teacher, and
he surprised me by shaking my hand.  "I'm glad we had this
talk, Jim.  If you ever want to talk, whether it be about
history, the British monarchy, or just about life in general,
feel free to find me and we'll set up some time together."

    "Thank you, Mr. Stiles.  I'll do that."

* * *

    The school was mostly empty when I got out of the
building.  I saw June and Sherry standing over by June's car,
patiently waiting for me to arrive.  I saw them and waved as
I walked over toward them.

    Before I could get to where the two girls were, I was
apprehended from behind.

    "Jim!  Can I talk with you?"

    It was Roy, one of my closest male friends.  I glanced
back at the parking lot and saw the two girls getting into
June's car.

    I turned around and said, "Of course.  What's up?"

    "I have a personal question to ask you."

    I instantly got the feeling of having done this the day
before with Sherry.  My mind instantly flashed an image of
Roy under the influence of the tickets, but I quickly
dispelled that idea from my head.

    "Is there anything wrong?"

    Roy looked around and pointed to a bench that was empty.
We walked to the bench, and Roy said, "Your sister is going
to have a birthday party in a few weeks."

    "Merry?" I asked.  "Um, yeah.  That's right."

    "The cheerleaders want to do something special for her
birthday, and they want to make sure that you are involved."

    "Of course," I said, smiling.  "Kristen and I threw her a
nice party last year at the park."

    "I've been asked to see if we could throw her a party at
your apartment."

    I was a bit surprised by the question.  Why were the
cheerleaders asking me through an intermediary--and why Roy?

    The cheerleaders were known to go to parties on a regular
basis, but aside from their initiations and special parties,
they were usually pretty tame.  Was Roy implying that Merry's
birthday party wouldn't be tame?

    "Like the Halloween party last year?" I asked,
remembering the off-duty policemen Kristen had hired to
ensure that the party wouldn't be too rowdy.

    "Yeah, like that," Roy said.

    "That shouldn't be a problem, but I'll run it by Lynnette
and Kris when I see them."

    Roy smiled.  "Thanks, Jim."

    "Oh, by the way, my own birthday is on Thursday.  Kristen
and Lynette have something special planned for me after
school that day."

    Nodding, Roy said, "Yeah, I figured that."

    "I'm just telling you that because I may leave rehearsal
early."

    "I think people will understand."

    I got up from the bench and shook Roy's hand.  "OK.  I'll
see you on Monday."

    Roy's expression changed for a fraction of a second
before he said, "Yeah.  Monday."

* * *

    June and Sherry were over by June's car.  They both
smiled at me as I approached them.

    "Hey, Oogie!" Sherry said.

    "Hi, Sherry... June."

    June smiled.  "Hey.  Sherry's mother gave her permission
to stay with me over night tonight."

    "Oh?" I asked, pretending to be surprised.

    "Would you mind if we use the Recovery Room tonight?
Sherry's never been in a water bed."

    The pronoun that June used made me uneasy.  I turned to
Sherry and asked, "Do you want to be with June tonight?"

    Sherry shrugged and didn't answer.

    "I don't see any problem if the two of you want to use
the Recovery Room tonight.  Of course, I'd have to ask Kris
and Lynette..."

    "They don't mind!" June said, hurriedly.

    This confirmed my suspicion.  "Then I guess it's a done
deal."

    Sherry smiled and started to get into the passenger seat.
Just as I was about to get in, I saw June's eyes narrowing at
me.  I don't think she expected me to accept the idea of
Sherry spending the night so easily.

    After I got into the car, I turned to Sherry in the back
and nodded at her gym bag.  "Is that your overnight stuff?"

    "Yeah," Sherry said, sounding a little bit nervous.

    I decided to take it easy with Sherry.  After all, she
wasn't completely under control of the reasons that she
wanted to be with me today.

    June started the car, and gave me another quick look
before backing out of her parking spot and headed toward the
house.

    Well, since June wasn't going to level with me about
Sherry, I wasn't going to let her know that I was in on the
secret.

    When we got to the apartment, I excused myself from the
girls and instead headed for the main residence.  Harry
greeted me at the door.

    "What's up, Jim?"

    "Are Charlie or Daniel in?"

    "Mrs. Swift is in the living room.  Should I announce
you?"

    "No need for formalities unless she's entertaining."

    Harry smiled.  "She has guests.  She's planning one of
her charity events."

    "Could you let her know that I would like to borrow
something?"

    "May I tell her what you need?"

    "A record." I told Harry exactly which one and he
shrugged and left me in the foyer as he went to tell Charlie
my request.

    In about a minute, Harry returned with the requested
album.

    "Thanks, Harry!  Tell Charlie I thanked her, too!"

    "Of course, Jim."

    I left the residence and got back to the apartment.  I
took the album into the music studio.  I had some cassette
tapes that I wanted to integrate into a recording and this
record was going to help.  To get the cassettes onto the open
reel tapes meant that I was going to have to reverse the
hookups between the cassette and the four track.  I knew from
experience that recording from tape to tape added noise, but
I hoped that the added noise wouldn't detract from my
recording.

    I knew that I was going to need a good saxophone player
to help me with some of the instrumental parts.  There was an
instrumental bridge in the song that was mostly a duet
between a saxophone and trombone.  I could play both
instruments all right, but between the two of them, I really
preferred the trombone.  Then there was also a heavy bass
riff on the piece.  I was lost in thought trying to figure
out who was in the band that I could enlist in this duet.
Despite the fact I could play both parts, there was a give
and take that two live performers could do that really
couldn't be duplicated by recording the parts separate.

    As I was thinking about these things, I looked up and saw
the signal light blinking.  I went over to the intercom and
said, "Jim here.  Who's that knocking at my door?"

    There was a chuckle over the intercom in response and I
recognized June's voice.  "Twelve minutes, Jim!"

    "Sorry, Baby," I said, truly sorry that I hadn't noticed
how long the signal was flashing.  "I was working on a
difficult track."

    "Can I visit?" June asked.

    I wanted to increase the pressure on June just slightly.
"Alone?"

    June's response was delayed.  I think she knew that I
implied that she had ulterior motives, and the subject of
those motives were Sherry, who she invited for the night.

    "Um, yes.  Of course."

    "Give me five minutes to finish this track up.  The DND
light will go off when I'm done."

    "Uh... sure.  Thanks."

    I heard the intercom click off.  I wondered if I was
being unfair to June, who probably thought she was doing me a
favor.

    Of all my paramours, June and Lynette had no idea about
the tickets.  I wanted them both to remain that way because I
didn't know how they'd react to the tickets.  In addition, I
was pretty sure that June was never under the influence of
the tickets, something that Kristen, Lynette, Camille, or
Patty couldn't say.  This sort of made June special in my
eyes.

    That being said, however, June was still well aware about
the danger that Sherry posed toward Kristen and me... and
even Lynette.  I expected June to have more allegiance to us
than to so casually put Sherry in between us.

    I put Charlie's record and my tapes away.  I had a lot of
work to do on this particular song, and I was thinking of
maybe getting a recording of it by my birthday.  I already
made up my mind that maudlin was out, remembering Lynette's
reaction to my recording of _Sea of Love_ a week or so
before.  In addition, I wanted to put in a bit of humor to
avoid any emotional overload that my recording might cause.

    Thinking about a special recording also made me remember
June using my equipment to record me when I admitted
privately to her how much Lynette meant to me when I thought
I had lost Lynette for good.

    It was obvious that June wasn't naive at all, and my
actions regarding Sherry and her must have triggered some
alarm in her head.

    The moment I turned off the DND light, there was a soft
knock at the door to the studio.  I opened the door and
invited June in.

    "What's up, Baby?" I asked.

    June locked eyes with mine.  "I was about to ask you the
same question."

    "Oh?" I asked, feigning innocence.

    After a few moments, June finally lowered her glaze.
"You're angry at me, aren't you?"

    "What gives you that idea?"

    Again, June stared at me.  After another few moments, she
sighed.  "I should have known at lunch, when you called me
'Juicy.'"

    I cocked my head at the lovely cheerleader.  "I thought
we had a relationship based on trust."

    Once again June lowered her eyes.  "Sherry has become
sort of a friend."

    "You can only have one friend in your life?"

    June's answer was a simple shake of her head.

    "Do you think I'm angry at you, June?"

    No answer.

    I waited patiently for an answer, and repeated my
question when it was clear that June wasn't going to answer.

    "I... I'm not sure.  You aren't happy."

    "Actually, I'm quite happy that Sherry is here."

    This surprised June considerably.  "Huh?"

    "Sherry became a friend to me a long time ago--even
before you and I became friends."

    "I know..."

    "I'm simply hurt that you asked Kristen and Lynette and
didn't bother asking me until Sherry was already with you
with her overnight bag."

    June nodded and I turned around to sit on the bench for
my keyboard setup.

    June's voice as quite soft as she said, "I'm sorry,
Oogie.  I didn't consider your feelings."

    "Despite the fact that I don't mind Sherry sleeping
over--with you, not me!--you could have put me in a difficult
situation if I didn't want her here.  Do you think I would
say 'no' to her face?  Was that what you were counting on?"

    "I don't know... No!  That's not true.  It's just that...
I mean..."

    I started playing the rundown of the song from Charlie's
album, working from memory.  Despite the fact that I hadn't
played Charlie's record, I didn't think I was playing the
rundown in the right key, so I stopped and played it a half
stop down.  That sounded closer, but without hearing the
original song, all I could do is guess.

    I idly wondered if I would be able to score this song for
the jazz band instead of recording it myself.  Unfortunately,
it required a single vocalist and despite the fact that it
was a great swing number, it was more of a feature song for a
singer and a couple of musicians, not really a full band.

    "Jim?"

    "Huh?" I asked.  I had gotten so engrossed in getting the
rundown correct that I almost forgot June was with me.  "I'm
sorry."

    "I was saying... Lynette and Sherry are pretty close, but
it seems like Kristen and you keep Sherry at arm's distance.
I know how she feels about you, but she assured me..."

    The rundown was coming automatic to me.  "June, at one
time Sherry was probably the one person that could drive a
wedge between Kristen and me.  I have no intention of giving
up Kristen despite how much I like Sherry."

    "But Sherry..."

    "Let me finish, Baby," I said softly.  "As I said, she
could have done so, but instead she helped Kristen and me get
over a silly fight and Kris and I are much closer now thanks
to Sherry.  I think that when Sherry did that, she gave up
trying to cause problems."

    "She says she is happy to be your friend."

    "I know that," I said, stopping my playing now and softly
pulling June to sit down next to me.  June came along freely
and we both shared the small padded bench.  I pulled June
even closer into a hug.

    "I'm really sorry, Jim."

    "I know.  For your information, Sherry was here yesterday
afternoon.  I figured that you'd try to get Sherry here
today."

    This was a bit of a lie.  As I mentioned earlier, I
didn't want June to even suspect anything about the tickets.
I could have told June the truth: that Sherry told me.
However, if June checked with Sherry later, I knew that
Sherry wouldn't have any memory of telling me about June's
invitation.  This would lead to complicated questions.

    "I'll be honest with you from now on, Oogie."

    "That's all I want, Baby."

    "What's that song you were playing?  It sounds vaguely
familiar."

    "Are you familiar with 1950s swing music?"

    June's response was a grimace.  "I don't think so.  Archy
might be."

    I laughed.  "I was thinking of recording this myself, but
I'd need a few more instruments.  I've decided that it's not
really a good number for the jazz band, either."

    "Oh."

    I played the rundown again.  I saw June's head start to
nod with the beat.

    June finally remarked, "It's got what Archy calls a heavy
back beat."

    "It's a vamp... it's a technique borrowed from jazz where
you play the same chord progression continuously."

    "I think I got it.  You did something like that with that
fisherman song."

    The two of us laughed.  "Yeah.  That was a vamp with
different players taking solos until Merry came on and sang
the words."

    I ran the chord progression to a minor key and then did a
segue to a real jazz number called _Satin Doll_, made famous
by Duke Ellington.  This was a song I liked to play on the
trumpet, but I was reasonably competent playing it on the
piano.

    "I know that one," June said, smiling.

    "_Satin Doll_," I said automatically.

    "Are there words for that one?"

    "Yeah, but I'm not familiar with them." I did a repeat of
the first verse and sang the part I knew.

    "... Out cattin' that Satin Doll..."

    I continued playing the song again, and when it was clear
that those were the only words of the song that I knew, June
started to laugh.

    "I like that middle part."

    "Yeah," I said, continuing to play.  "It's kind of
famous."

    "Is that swing, too?"

    "Jazz.  I heard Archy's uncle play that song in Chicago
once when I was younger."

    "Are you thinking of recording that song?  Archy might
like that one if his uncle performed it."

    I tried to figure the logistics for that song.  Unlike
the rundown I played before, this particular song was well
suited for the jazz band.  "Perhaps," I said, smiling at my
lovely friend.  "Would Archy think that I'm trying to compare
myself with his uncle?"

    June seemed surprised that I'd even think that.  "Of
course not!"

    I became aware of a knock on the door.  Instinctively, I
turned around and glared at the DND switch, but I saw that it
was off.  I forgot to turn it back on when June came in
before.

    June saw my reaction, and jumped off the bench and went
to the door.

    It was Sherry.

    "I'm sorry, I was wondering when June would be coming
out.  I didn't mean to interrupt..."

    I shook my head.  "That's all right, Sherry.  The DND
light wasn't on."

    "Oogie forgot to turn it on, but he wasn't recording."

    I didn't mention to June that I wasn't always recording
when that light was on, but I didn't think it was pertinent.

    "Want to come inside, Sherry?"

    Sherry looked at June before she answered me.  "Sure."

    With Sherry in the studio, June acted a bit different.
"Can you play _Girl From Ipanema_ for Sherry?"

    I shrugged and immediately played the intro, using the
same key that I had used when I played in Purdue.

    Of course, this was a singing number, although I could
also do it as an instrumental.  However, I think I knew what
was June's intentions were.

    Sherry had sounded a bit wistful when she heard that
Kristen and I did a lounge act in Indiana, and I think June
was going to give Sherry a taste of what I sounded like at
the time.

    The keyboard and guitars from the trip hadn't been set up
in the studio yet, although I had already hooked up one of
the new amplifiers to the mini organ.  Despite that, the
truth of the matter was that I was most comfortable using the
older equipment that was already set up.

    I looked at the two girls from time to time as I sang the
song.  A lot of the time, Sherry had her eyes closed, almost
as if she was imagining herself in that lounge during our
performance.

    At the end of the number, the two girls broke out in
applause.  I gave a tiny bow while still seated on my bench.

    I moved my bench to where my electric piano was set up.
"Could you guys give me a hand?  I want to replace this
keyboard with the one standing up on the side of the room
over there." I pointed to the new Yamaha keyboard, which had
a voice I wanted for my next number.

    The girls let me disconnect the wires from my old
keyboard and pick it up before they took it and placed it
next to the new one.  Then they brought the new one over.

    Of course, the new keyboard required a different power
cord, and a special adapter to fit my old amplifier.
However, I found that it was easy enough to simply use the
connector for the mini organ.

    I played a few notes and fiddled with the gain on the
amplifier to get the right volume.  Finally, I played the
introduction to Elton John's _Crocodile Rock_.

    Both girls smiled as they recognized the famous song.

        I remember when rock was young,
        Me and Susie had so much fun.
        Holding hands and skimming stones...
        Had an old gold Chevy and a place of my own.
        But the biggest kick I ever got,
        Was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock.
        While the other kids were Rocking Round the Clock
        We were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock!

        Well Crocodile Rocking is something shocking,
        When your feet just can't keep still.
        I never knew me a better time
        And I guess I never will.
        Oh Lordy mama, those Friday nights!
        When Susie wore her dresses tight,
        And the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight...


    As I was singing this, I remembered Kristen's excellent
bass accompaniment at Purdue.  In my mind I could still hear
her playing a near perfect walking bass line to the song.

    June started laughing as I sang the "Nah-nah-nah" parts,
breaking me out of my reverie, and which also broke Sherry
up.  Even I started to laugh and I ended the song.

    "You have a great gift," Sherry said, still giggling.
"Your voice almost sounds just like Elton's."

    June nodded her head in agreement.

    I realized that this keyboard, with the setting that
still had the masking tape marked "Eerie" would be perfect
for a song that I had tried recording a couple of weeks
earlier.

    "Would you girls like to hear me accompany myself using
the tape deck?"

    Both girls' faces lit up.  "YEAH!" they said together.

    "One second..."

    I went to my tape drawer and it took me a couple of
minutes to locate the one I started.  I had some notes on
paper that said cryptically "134 / X1 Vocal / X3 trumpet / 4
Piano." This meant that I had three of the tracks recorded,
but I wasn't satisfied with tracks one (vocal) and three (a
stupid attempt at using the trumpet to do a rundown, which
didn't fit at all).

    I threaded the tape onto the open reel and patched my
microphone to track one, and the Yamaha into track three.

    As a test, I played a C-minor arpeggio on the highest end
of the keyboard and found that the sound wasn't perfect, but
it was better than any other keyboard setting that I had
tried in the past.

    I turned to the girls and warned them to be quiet as I
was going to be recording this particular song.

    "Which song is this one?" Sherry asked.

    "You'll find out," I said, grinning.

    "Did you play this one at Purdue?" Sherry asked.

    "No," I admitted.  "I think you'll like it, anyway."

    Sherry nodded.

    I turned on the tape and quickly got back to my bench.

    The piano track played the intro, and I started singing:

        As I walk along,
        I wonder
        What went wrong,
        With our love,
        A love that was so strong.
        And as I still walk on,
        I think of
        The things we've done
        Together, while our hearts were young.

        I'm a-walkin' in the rain,
        Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain.
        Wishin' you were here by me,
        To end this misery!
        And I wonder...
        I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder,
        Why?
        Why, why, why, why, why
        She ran away.
        Yes, and I wonder,
        Where she will stay-ay-ay,
        My little runaway,
        Run, run, run, run, runaway.


    At this point in the song, I played the famous rundown on
the new keyboard.  It wasn't a perfect match for the version
on Del Shannon's _Runaway_, but it sounded pretty good to my
ears.  It was much, much better than the stupid trumpet
attempt I made earlier.

    I sang the rest of the song, occasionally looking back at
the two girls, who were looking at me in awe.  I've seen this
look from both girls at different times, but this was the
first time I saw them share it together.

    After I completed the song, I put my finger to my lips to
let the girls know that they should be quiet so I could end
the recording.  It was a good thing, too: June looked as if
she was about to clap!

    I stopped the tape and rewound it.  I subjected the two
girls to a repeat as I listened to the two new parts with a
critical ear, trying to pick out any imperfections.  I was
surprised when I found that my performance was pretty good; I
didn't flinch at all during the playback!

    "That was great!  You sounded like what's his name?"

    "Del Shannon," I answered automatically.

    "How do you do that?  Change your voice like that?" June
asked.

    "You know Roy, right?"

    Both girls nodded.

    "I taught him how to read chorale music in junior high,
and in return, he taught me how to sing better.  I never
liked hearing my own voice when I played back recordings, so
he taught me what he knew of imitating other people's singing
styles.  He's a much better singer than I am--he can even
imitate Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra."

    Sherry shrugged.  "He doesn't sing and play at the same
time."

    "I didn't play much on that particular recording," I
pointed out.  "Just the rundown after the chorus."

    "And during the last chorus, too," Sherry said.  She
wasn't going to let me convince her that I wasn't the
greatest singer in the entire world.

    I conceded the point to Sherry.  I knew it was fruitless
to argue with her (or anybody, for that matter) about my
talents.

    I was saved by the bell, though.  Well, the flashing of
the intercom light.

    "Oogie Woogie here with my groupies," I said, pushing the
button on the intercom.

    The two girls giggled.

    There wasn't an immediate response from the intercom.
This was strange.

    It took about a minute for somebody to answer.

    "Fifteen minutes, Oogie," Lynette said, breathlessly and
giggling.

    "Where are you?" I asked.

    "Over in the play room losing to Kristen."

    I knew what this meant, and I said, diplomatically.
"Sherry and June are with me here in the studio.  Maybe we
could meet the two of you in a few minutes."

    As Lynette pushed the intercom button, I could hear
Kristen's golden laugh in the background.  "Um, yeah.  A
couple of minutes would be fine."

    I turned off the intercom, chuckling to myself.  I turned
and saw June chuckling as well.  Sherry looked confused.

    "Lynette needs to get decent.  You know how Kristen plays
pool.  She doesn't gamble with money anymore."

    Sherry still had a blank look on her face.

    "Kristen and Lynette play for higher stakes," June
suggested to Sherry.

    Suddenly, the light dawned in Sherry's eyes.  She blushed
wonderfully and June and I laughed with her.

    We waited the requested couple of minutes before leaving
the studio.

--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

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