“Here we go, Milton. Let’s show these townsfolk how we roll in the South,” Cody said as he loosened the strap on his guitar and wore it the same way he had for as long as he could remember. The first notes were too high, and some of the revelers turned their heads toward him. But they lost interest and continued their chatter as if he had been just a distraction. His face felt hot, and his eyes clouded. He took off his hat and fanned his face. He looked at the manager whose attention had been stolen by a beautiful black woman who had walked in and regretted not having started earlier. The woman’s full legs stole his attention as they curved her frame in the knee-length skirt she had decided to wear that evening. Her hips carried her lean frame toward him as she walked over to the bar for an order. She didn’t even look up when making the order at the counter because she didn’t have to. Her smooth fingers probed her bag and retrieved a card which the barman received with both hands lest he drop it. She was clearly in her own world, and everything around her seemed to oblige. Her cell phone must have rung because she raised it to her ear and flashed a smile that cleared his blurry vision. The barman tried to strike a conversation after giving her back her card, but she just grabbed her beer cans and headed for the door as if he weren’t there. When the barman was done checking out her behind, he turned to face the other way, and Cody noticed a flush on his cheeks. His lips trembled as he exhaled sharply. He felt sorry for the man, but he too knew that he wouldn’t have stood a chance were their positions interchanged. He exhaled once again and got back to business.

“When the dove flies out the window

Across the fields and atop the trees

Towards the town with the beckoning lights

Away from the cauldron smoke

And the excited eyes

Of the boy with a stick

And the cussin’ father

Only the thought of freedom matters

Because with freedom comes fresh air

And a chance to feel the sunlight

When the dove flies out the window…”

Cody let it rip. He sang with all emotion, and his right hand found the notes on his father’s guitar. He forgot his woes and problems and the hunger in the pit of his stomach. He was suspended in mystical limbo as he sang his heart out oblivious of reason or fame or spite. He did what he had learned to do best all his life. His felt his father pat his shoulder as he strung the heavily worn guitar bleeding more life out of it every time he held it firmly in his hands. This song was about freedom and hope and restoration. He was at an all-time low, and he needed to renew his hope. When he was done, he looked up at the crowd only to be met by attentive faces. The chatter had died off, and everyone, about thirty or so faces, were staring at him. Even the two ladies at the balcony had their necks craned out of their seats staring at her. Then a clap or two rent the air, and the whole crowd followed suit. They were truly impressed, and so was the manager who, as if waiting for the crowd’s approval, was clapping the loudest. He gave a small bow and left the stage with the manager in hot pursuit. The performance was all the manager needed to conclude a contract between him and Cody. They then sat down to a celebratory drink, and Cody could not hide his joy. He had been handed a lifeline, and he was grateful. He would be performing four times a week for a flat rate and a premium every time he was needed should the audience want him on stage.

On the fourth day of his performance he made several friends and even got a steamy date with a young lawyer who couldn’t stop uttering some dialect that had made is head hurt during s*x. The barman liked him instantly and offered him strong whisky whenever he walked in as he waited for his turn on the stage.

On the fifth day, he arrived a bit earlier and decided to settle by the balcony as he waited for the manager to wind up some business in his office. He passed by the barman for a bottle of whisky and headed for the balcony. He placed his guitar on a stool to his left and opened the scotch bottle. The tumblers and wine glasses were arranged in clusters of six to eight on a shallow bucket next to the inbuilt electric ice cube mini tray. He dropped a couple of ice cubes into a tumbler and flooded it with the scotch before he downed it in a flash. He put the tumbler down and turned on his right, locking eyes with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. He then turned away without the slightest sign of emotion and stared into the street below. No one else but Cody knew the way he had taken to the woman on his right, and he didn’t want to show it either. He felt the rush of adrenaline shoot through his veins as he fumbled for the bottle to pour more drink into his tumbler. He poured more and proceeded to down it. This time, he didn’t close his eyes, and the whisky stung him like red pepper, he narrowed his eyes to mask the burn and noticed from the corner of his eye that the radiant beauty beside him had her eyes on him. He struggled to maintain composure as the woman looked away in disinterest. His whole body instantly became hot, and he tugged a finger at the top button of his shirt to loosen it a little. The cool breeze wafting in from the street definitely wasn’t helping, and he felt he needed some air. He had acknowledged his shy deportment around women and had even got used to getting round that, but this pure displeasure of woman had him at his wits’ end. This was the same woman he had noticed on his first day who had arrested the attention of almost everyone in the bar including the unlucky barman. With no thought of consequence, he chuckled out loud at how much her presence had disordered him and the effect it was having on his body.

“Mind sharing what’s so funny?” the raven beauty asked him as the smile dried from his lips. He couldn’t face her lest she notice his queasy eyes. He turned away and looked down at the street below. He took another sip of the scotch, but his body was boiling hot. He let a molten ice cube crotche from the tumbler into his mouth under his tongue and stood up to take off his jacket. The heat seemed intent on boiling him alive.

“You do love your privacy, don’t you? By the way, the DJ is right behind that green veil near the exit if you still want to lodge a complaint,” he said with the calmest tone he could muster. Rather than make a fool of himself, he decided to check whether the manager was done with his meeting. He instantly stood up, picked up his guitar case and stepped out of the balcony.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7