“Oh yeah,” Lynette said, recognizing the tune. “It was almost there, but it sounded strange.”
I nodded and went back to improvising on the song’s actual chord progression. I noticed that the in-between chords could be left out during the improv and made it easier for me to doodle against it.
“You’re angry that Kristen played the guitar for me and not for you,” Lynette observed.
I didn’t answer, but I felt wetness in my eyes as Lynette voiced what was going through my mind.
“She’s scared of you, you know,” Lynette softly said. “She doesn’t think she’s good enough for you.”
What did Lynette say? I actually stopped playing and turned to stare at the blonde behind me. “How did you get in here, Lynette? Wasn’t the DND light on?”
“No, Oogie. Look.”
I noticed the switch was down. I apparently forgot to turn it on when I came inside. Had I been that distracted?
“Kristen’s not good enough?” I asked. “Who told her that bullshit?”
“She thinks it, Jim,” Lynette said. “Now you’ve left her in the play room, despite the fact that Sherry and Merry are really your visitors. You’re not being a good host. I can imagine how Kris feels.”
I felt like a heel. Of course, Lynette was right. The girls were here at my invitation; they were my guests. As a proper host, I should be there with them. Just the same, I knew that I’d have to have a talk with Lynette later about Kristen.
I nodded to Lynette and the two of us left the studio and returned to the play room.
Lynette and I came in as I saw June sink the eight ball.
I did a double take, realizing that June and Merry had beaten my lovely blonde Goddess.
“We win!” June cried happily. “You’re up next, Oogie!”
Smiling, I took my cue from the rack and started racking the balls for June and Merry. As I did so, I saw some looks pass between Lynette and Kristen. I ignored them for the most part.
June sunk a solid on the break, but missed her next shot. Lynette and I were able to beat June and Merry, and we went for our rematch against Kristen and Sherry.
Lynette broke without sinking anything. Sherry was up next, and sunk a ball but scratched when the cue ball also fell into one of the pockets.
I carefully placed the cue and took my turn, sinking six balls in a row before missing.
Kristen sunk a number of balls in return, but missed her shot on the eight ball.
Lynette cleared the rest of our balls but missed the eight ball. Unfortunately for us, Lynette left an easy shot for Sherry, who sunk the eight ball.
After playing a few games and listening to songs on the radio in the play room, Kristen suggested that I take Sherry on a private tour of the music studio.
When we got there, Sherry uttered a surprised, “Wow!”
I grinned at the cheerleader, proud of my studio.
“You have three keyboards now?” Sherry noticed.
“Uh, huh,” I said, proudly. “The upright, an electric piano, and this is an electric organ.”
“Reel to reel deck, too,” Sherry said, impressed with the setup.
“It’s called open reel,” I said, grinning. I had a tape that I had been working on that neither Lynette nor Kristen had noticed when they were in the room. It was actually something for school.
The previous year, in October, there was a talent show at the school that I never got around to entering, mostly because I was preoccupied with my new relationship with Kristen, and the new responsibilities of having a jazz band.
This year, I was going to enter, and I wanted to see what Mr. Proilet thought about my idea.
“I’ve been working on something, and you’ll be my first test audience,” I told Sherry. “Not even Kristen has heard this one, yet.”
“Cool!” Sherry gave me a mischievous look.
I set up the standing mike for the final track, which I had flubbed a couple of times the last time I tried to record, so I decided to do just the lyrics. I have always found that I usually sang better when I have an audience. The actual music parts were pretty easy for the song I was doing. The song really needed a drum part, but I didn’t play those very well, and I didn’t even have a drum kit. I was going to need somebody to help me at the talent show.
I sat Sherry down at the other end of the room, so when I was standing behind the mike stand, I’d be facing her. I looked around, and almost everything was perfect.
“I’ll be right back. I need some props.”
“Huh?”
“One second, Sherry. Be right back.”
I left the room, and went across the hall to the “recovery room.” In the closet was a denim jacket that I had put there right after I decided on the song. In its left pocket was a pair of dark horn-rimmed sunglasses. In the room, I even had an unopened bottle of Vitalis that I had snagged at a drugstore. Even back in the 1970s, it was a relic, although it wasn’t impossible to find it in the stores. I rubbed the slick stuff through my hair and combed my hair into a 1950s style pompadour. I looked like a greaser from that era.
I looked in the mirror and was satisfied with the effect.
I ran back to the studio, closing the door, and then I turned on the DND light.
Sherry started giggling when she saw my new persona.
I smiled at her and put my finger to my lips as I started the recorder. I heard my acoustic piano track start the intro, and started to sing:
I saw Sherry grin as she recognized the song. I had a special surprise for her in the next verse:
At the actual moment I was singing about opening up my shirt, I opened the denim jacket, and there was a piece of paper with “KRISTEN” written in magic marker pinned to my shirt with a safety pin. This caused Sherry to laugh out loud, which I knew meant that I’d have to do another take of the song. I was going to need to find a better directional microphone.
Actually, knowing that I’d have to do the take again, I found myself to be much looser. I continued the song, and started singing much more freely as I hammed it up for Sherry. I grabbed the mike with both hands, singing like a crooner.
I had a trumpet track that played the same part that the sax played on the Dion recording of the forty-five. During that solo, I twirled the microphone on its cord like Tom Jones or Roger Daltrey would do during a performance, which also generated laughs from Sherry.
At the end of the song, Sherry started applauding. “That’s fantastic, Jim! You sounded just like… what’s his name?”
“Dion and the Belmonts?” I offered. “Dion is the guy that sings ’The Wanderer.’”