Tiny just smiled at me as he left. I saw Toby running up to catch up with him.
The next week during jazz band rehearsal, when the first solo was to occur, I was surprised to see both Toby and Tiny get up. Instead of a solo, they played a well-orchestrated duet.
I broke up the rehearsal at that. “What the fuck was that?”
Tiny grinned. “I think, in Italian, they call that a ‘duet.’”
“Did you guys rehearse that? That was perfect!”
Toby nodded. “You told me to practice. You are usually busy on weekends, and I asked Archy last week if I could practice with him. We played at his house.”
I shook my head. “You owe me a dozen sets of ear plugs!”
The entire band, except Tiny, laughed at that. One of the saxophonists whispered something to Tiny and Tiny burst out with his loud, booming, laughter. “A dozen! Man, Oogie, you’re cruel!”
From the way that Tiny said it, I knew that he said that with admiration.
Mr. Proilet was sitting near the back of the room. He moved up to me and whispered something to me. I nodded sagely.
I started the song up again, and was prepared for that duet, which they repeated with a slight variation. I saw Mr. Proilet’s eyes widen a bit at this.
I was watching for the duet, and I noticed that the variation was mostly due to modifications done by Tiny rather than Toby.
I continued to direct the song, and it seemed that everybody was keyed up. The solos were just a little more polished, apparently everybody was trying to live up to the high standards that Tiny and Toby, who I were now thinking of as “the two T’s.”
Kristen and I had plans for the next weekend, which were subsequently scrapped when June drove up to Kristen’s gate with Tiny.
“Hey, June,” I said over the intercom. “What’s up?”
“I’m here to ask a favor.”
I looked at Kristen, who already had our suitcases packed. She nodded and took the suitcases back to the bedroom. I told June to drive up to our apartment.
“What’s up, guys?” I repeated when we met them at the parking lot.
“June and I have been talking,” Tiny answered. “I have been cheating, and I’m really feeling bad about it.”
“Cheating?” I asked.
“I gave Toby his part of the duet.”
“I knew that,” I said, smiling. “The second time, I noticed that most of the variation was you.”
“I’m good at solos, and I thought that Toby needed a bit of confidence. He asked if we could practice together last weekend.”
“Yeah. Mr. Proilet talked with me on Thursday. We’re going to ask you to be the assistant director, so you can take over when I can’t be at rehearsals.”
“I can’t do that, Jim.”
“Why not?”
Tiny didn’t answer. I was about to prod him when June spoke up. “Tiny has a problem, Jim. He can’t read music.”
Tiny can’t read music? He played each of the pieces nearly flawlessly the first day. I was stunned, but then I realized how his first run-through of each piece wasn’t as good as his subsequent performances.
“Do you mean to tell me that in two rehearsals, you’ve managed to perfectly memorize six or seven difficult pieces mainly by watching Toby play?”
Tiny looked back at me sheepishly. “My uncle taught me to play by ear.”
“Oh,” I said, softly.
“Let’s go inside,” Kristen said. “Oogie has a music studio downstairs.”
Kristen brought June upstairs to the apartment while I led Tiny to the room that Kristen was starting to make soundproof. I had my electric piano and a couple of trumpets in that room, as well as a lot of works in progress and some empty music sheets.
I was lucky in that Tiny knew the notes, he just didn’t recognize the notes on a staff. I showed him the basics of reading music.
It took a couple of hours, but Tiny was determined to learn how to read music, and I was patient. I knew that Kristen and I had plans, but I was not a person who would deny somebody of Tiny’s obvious talent a request for help, even if he hadn’t been so helpful with the handling of Tim Hawking.
During one of our breaks, we took a walk outside the studio and I heard the distinctive sound of pool balls broken.
I smiled at Tiny, and brought him next door to the playroom. Tiny was a bit surprised to see how it was decked out (just a stereo, television, and the pool table), and we watched the two girls playing.
Unlike Camille, June was closer to Kristen’s skill level. The two girls would sink two or three shots in a row.
“Do you play, Tiny?” I asked.
“Once or twice,” Tiny answered.
After the girls finished their game, Tiny and I joined in with our respective girlfriends to play teams.
It was close, but Kristen and I won, Kristen sinking the eight ball in a beautiful shot.
“Pay up,” Kristen said.
“Huh?” Tiny asked, confused.
“Winners get a kiss from the losers!” Kristen moved over to Tiny. He looked embarrassed and looked at me. I shrugged.
June watched Tiny kiss Kristen on the cheek, and took her cue and moved toward me.
Not wanting an angry Tiny, I did the same, and kissed June on her cheek. Her dark complexion reddened slightly.
“We need to be going,” June said, softly.
Tiny nodded. “June’s mother is very strict.”
We escorted the pair out of the playroom to June’s car.
“It was nice to see your apartment,” June said to Kristen.
“Your whole place is nice,” agreed Tiny.
“Thank you,” Kristen said.
We watched June and Tiny pull out of the parking lot.
“You think we embarrassed them with that kiss?” Kristen asked.
“A little,” I said.
“They make a very nice couple. June really opened up in the living room.”
“Really? What did she say?” I asked.
“Just girl talk,” Kristen said, mysteriously.
I smiled. It was nearly four in the afternoon. “How about a quick trip to Madison?” I asked.
Kristen’s nose crinkled as she ran upstairs and came back down with both suitcases. “You bet, Oogie!”
Next Monday, before music class, I explained to Mr. Proilet about Tiny’s difficulty. The next day, he gave me some elementary music reading texts that weren’t aimed at musical novices, and I forwarded them to Tiny, who showed quite a lot of appreciation for them.
He occasionally found time with Mr. Proilet and a Saturday with me, and continued learning how to read music in his spare time.
Valentine’s Day was a weekend this year, and Kristen decided she wanted to visit her brother again. She convinced Camille to come as well.
At Logan Airport in Boston, we saw Will stand there and stare at us as we exited the jet way. He didn’t move, but continued to stare. It was easy to follow his gaze; he was entirely focused on Camille.
“Um, Will, you remember Camille… Cammy.”
Will didn’t respond, but continued to stare.
“Earth to Will,” Kristen said with humor.
Suddenly, Will realized he was staring. “I’m… I’m sorry…”
I turned to Camille, who was also staring at Will. “Cammy?”
“Yes?” Camille said.
“You remember Kristen’s brother, Will.”
Camille offered her hand, and Will kissed it.
Kristen and I looked at each other and shrugged.
Will was between partners; he broke up with Robert amicably a few weeks before.
We ate once again at Legal Sea Food, and during the meal, it was quite clear that Will and Camille were in another dimension, simply staring at each other, and neither one paid any particular attention to Kristen and me.