But you take vocal, you know the vocal?
Sure. I can take vocal. Queen Monzee-ay spoke into the mic: We’ll do now “I’m on a Wonder”, song by old brother Clifton. She stepped aside, and whispered, Take as long as you need on the opening; give folks here a chance to catch up. You been listening to Beau Jocque?
Beau Jocque, yeah.
Yeah, she said, and passed on the information to the others.
Sarah gave him a half wave and he smiled to her. He was by the centre mic. The audience waited and that was that; he started in and it was the straight blues. This was the song he could only play, whatever people thought, it didnt matter, he could play only this, and how Beau Jocque played it, going in that same way, doing it from this morning on that bench and the whole damn nightmare, from there, and where to? wherever: wherever it was leading. Queen Monzee-ay was waiting, Sarah and the guys closeby.
Murdo repeated the opening and was swaying, swaying sideways, allowing Queen Monzee-ay to the mic, and she edged into it, pulling in the band.
And that was them. It was all there in the song and playing of the song. There was nothing other, not any place. He was there in it and didnt have “to feel like he was” because he was; and not “feel like a musician” amongst other musicians because he was one. He was just Murdo and this was Murdo. So what? It didnt matter anything else, he would play whatever, anything; and just say whatever, whatever he felt like saying; he was a musician and so what, that was all. He knew it and had done for such a long long while and was so weary weary but on ye go, ye just go on, that is that, picking yerself up, here he was. Whoever else was there that was them, it was up to them. Dad could do what he wanted to do. It was his business so he could just go ahead. It was up to him. Sarah too, she was great and never a word against her. It is just how it was. Oh Murdo, when she said Oh Murdo. She knew it too. Oh Murdo. That is just like another world, Oh Murdo, if it was another world and they were in it, but they werent, they were just bumping into each other, and maybe having fun.
He was glad when the song ended. It had ended. He brought it to a close. It was his to do that. His to begin, his to end. Queen Monzee-ay waited a moment for the audience and while they were clapping she gave Murdo a kiss, their noses touching over the boxes, which was fun, and people laughed. Murdo heard them — heard them clapping, heard them laughing — he wasnt looking hardly, only at one point he did, smiling like a thanks, whatever the thanks was and what it was for, whatever, it was just everything, him and them all, he was only a part of it, just like everybody. Then Queen Monzee-ay, he was gazing at her, seeing her give one of her glares into the mic, grabbing a silence: the last song was over now here was this one: Hey, hey, hush now, mes enfants; mes petits-enfants… And she chuckled looking all roundabout at everybody, ones sitting, ones standing and all along by the bar, everybody just waiting. She whispered: Quel âge me donnes-tu? You think I’m past it! She glared at everybody, at the band and everybody else: You think I’m past it! Réfléchez bien avant de répondre!
There was laughter. Okay now, she said, we play one more; one more outa here, taking the fast road to Texas, wishing Diego and his boys fond farewells home — on se reverra bientôt. Song by sister Ida, “I-10 Express”.
*
When they left the stage people were wanting to talk with Queen Monzee-ay and Sarah stayed alongside her. Gene was with the musicians. Dad wasnt there. Murdo had thought he might be. A couple of people were looking at him and it was like ye didnt know what to do, where to look if ye saw them and they saw you seeing them. He was glad to go backstage along the corridor. He had a quick wash in the wee dressing room — before Sarah and Queen Monzee-ay came. Then he stepped outside, down from the wooden platform. He stood with his back to the wall.
It was dark and peaceful, with a mild breeze. Across was the wide empty area; no lighting there, the old foundations now unseen, whatever it had been in the past. Earlier he heard the sound of a train, long drawn out from someplace not too far away. Louisiana. It was good just standing there and thinking that. Ye heard it in songs but not much and he didnt know much. Without anybody there it was like just him, it was him there and the old place, old foundations and whatever it was, Louisiana. He didnt have to be here but he was, he came and this was him, here from the inside out, whatever it was, it made him feel something. But what? He didnt know, he just liked it, and that blues there in his napper:
I’m on the wonder
tell me why you wanna walk away
I dont wanna come back home
Lord knows I love you
but I’m living in misery
Ye had to be old to sing it. Or did ye? He wasnt living in misery. Brains just make the connection. That was brains, what do brains do, if they are for something, like ye have brains, we all have brains and what do they tell ye! Nothing, just like conduits; the mother-board; algorithm of algorithms. Ye still have to do it.
Dad being here was like from another world. The world of “the real Murdo”. Not his own world but the one where everything else went on, where Murdo was just whatever. Dad joined them together. With Dad here it was “the real Murdo”.
Time to go back inside. Only he didnt want to go back inside, talking with people and whatever, he just wasnt able to. To be being with people. He didnt want to be with people, only like being swallowed up if he could be swallowed up he wanted to be swallowed up. Jees. The darkness, the old foundations. Oh God.
Wherever Dad was. Outside with the smokers, Declan Pike was a smoker.
It would be hard for Dad saying hullo, with Sarah’s family, he wouldnt want to be pushy. Oh sorry for that time about Sunday lunch, we had to get our bus.
Murdo had to go inside. He had to go inside. Anything else was stupid. Imagine walking, walking, away in the darkness, Lord knows I love you, where would ye go? Anywhere.
He opened the side exit door and returned through the backstage corridor, aware of the old posters and photographs. He paused by the door out to the main hall and pushed it ajar. Nobody here, jees. He exited. But Santiago and the guys from Diego Narciso’s band were at the side, like as if waiting for him, they were, saw him and came toward him, excited and wanting to talk. But there wasnt time for that because Dad was over by the main door entrance and gazing across.
Murdo turned in the other direction, as though casually, crossing the floor to Sarah’s family table where he was greeted as a friend of the family, which he was anyway. He found a place on the fringe of their table. Gene was sitting close to Sarah who was telling them about some wee incident to do with the gig, and they were laughing about it. Murdo didnt get it, but didnt try to. He was glad just to sit and keep out the road, listen to the taped music. He would have to talk to Dad but not now. The truth is he was tired. His stomach too, his stomach was kind of
Nerves. He needed the toilet. But a shit! Jees, where? This was the worst. He stared at the floor to out-think it, stared at the floor. Things in considering, in considering. Stuff. Things. Two hundred dollars. Pay it back. Obviously he would, that was obvious. He still had some of it left. Everything else he would pay back. Everything, just like everything everything.
There was nowhere to go except sit here. Although it was up to him to go to Dad. Dad would never come to him. Sarah’s family table, he wouldnt intrude. Bad manners is how he would see it.
Oh well. He yawned. It was true but he needed a sleep. That was one thing. Oh but his stomach. Nerves again.
The taped music: the same guy singing as before, a nice swinging blues with piano, sax and drums. Ye could picture the old bartender as the piano player, and if ye interrupted him playing, Where’s my gun till I fucking shoot ye.