Fanfare (Country Roads #2) - Chapter 9

Monday, Mr. French was worked up when he met me at my classroom to accompany me from my Enlgish class. He was practically vibrating as I came out of the classroom and we started walking towards the cafeteria so I could pick up my lunch.

“You okay?” I asked, giving him a concerned look.

“I’ve got amazing news. Saturday, a friend of mine I knew from the old days gave me a call. When I knew him, he was just starting out in the record industry, mostly handing small regional bands for a mid-level agent. He’s moved up in the business since then and now he’s the east coast scout for MAC records.”

“I didn’t know you had a record contract?”

“I didn’t. We were close, but the band fell apart before we could actually get that far. That’s pretty common, especially among young bands when ego can really get in the way. An agent’s just a first step for most bands, since that’s how most musicians end up getting discovered. We got picked up by the agent, but the band fell apart before we ever got a contract. He did get us tours and into some music festivals, but we never got that big break.”

“You said he was a scout for a record label, though. Should I have an agent?”

“He is and no, or at least not right now. From what Willie said, your mom’s acting as your manager, which is enough for now. You have a leg up that a lot of young musicians don’t have, so you don’t really need an agent. Most new artists don’t know who to call to get new gigs, so they get enough exposure to make a scout interested in them. You’ve got Willie in your corner though, and he knows pretty much every club in a five-state radius.”

“So someone has to have an audience to get a scout to show up?”

“Kind of. Scouts don’t just troll venues and festivals for talent. Usually, an agent convinces a scout they’ve got the next big thing and gets the scout to show up at a gig and hear them play. The scout will then call around to see if anyone has heard of the band or artist. They get a lot of calls and usually don’t have time to travel somewhere without some assurance it’s worth their time. Of course, random discoveries do happen, usually an opening act for a band the scout is actually there to see, but it’s pretty rare.”

“So Willie’s kind of my agent.”

“Sort of. You also made a really good impression with Eugene Russell at the Wild Cat, and I’ve heard he’s mentioned you to a few people. That’s why it’s important to keep your ego out of the way and treat the people at gigs with respect. That’s something a lot of young artists don’t get; how much people that seem to be on the bottom rung of the industry can actually affect your career. If you treat club owners like shit, they’ll remember it. If a scout likes your sound, they’ll ask around about you. Record labels try and weed out the possible trouble makers before they are on the hook for them. They want to know if you’re violent, rude to fans, a drunk, or an addict. If they get enough bad reports they’ll look for someone else.”

I couldn’t help but think about Dad and wonder if something like that was why he never made it. I always thought he sounded good enough to have a deal of his own, and his explanations of why he’d never made it didn’t make sense. Mom had said something about his band falling apart before they ever made it big, but Dad traveled for ten years after that, and still never made it. I couldn’t figure out how he kept getting gigs but couldn’t get past that. If they really did call around to find out if the musician had problems before taking a chance with them, anyone who checked on Dad would have heard what a lush he was and how he was regularly getting into fights.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You should. The music industry is about a lot more than being a good musician. There are a lot of musicians out there that play well but will never get a deal. They have to have stage presence, be marketable, and worth the expense before they’ll ever get a deal of their own.”

“Okay.”

“Sorry, I started rambling. Whenever my friend starts scouting a new area, he calls around to people he knows. Club owners, former musicians, whatever and asks if there are any acts he should see.”

“I thought you said that was why people got agents, so they could get record labels to give them a look.”

“It is. Consider how many singers and groups are out there looking for their big break. A record label scout only has so much time. They also tend to only tour a given region once a year or so. Their regions can be pretty big, which gives them a lot of land to cover and they do more than just drive around listening to gigs. An agent can get your demo reel in their hands and if they like it, they’ll come out to see you or arrange for you to play somewhere close to their home base. They do, however, discover people on their own. Usually by relying on their network of contacts.”

“Since you’re talking to me about it, I’m going to assume you put in a good word for me.”

“Well, yeah, but I also had to be honest and tell him I was mentoring you. In this case though, he’d already heard about you from Eugene. He’s planning on being out here in May and asked that I set up a performance. He did suggest that you have your own band, even if you’re the front man. Apparently, the execs feel that right now they’ve got too many singer/songwriter types and they want more bands. I’m not saying you have to, of course. If he likes you, he’ll still try and find you a place, but it could mean waiting a few years until they feel like they have room for more up-and-coming solo artists.”

“I have no idea how to put together a band. I don’t really remember the time Dad played with one and he never really talked about those days, since he blamed them for not getting his big break.”

“It’s not so hard, especially when you’re making it clear that you’re the face of the band.”

“Why would someone want to be part of a band where they don’t get to be equal partners?”

“Lots of reasons, but mostly because they’ll sense the opportunity. You’ve already started building a name for yourself, even if it’s very regional and you’ve got a label looking at you. Guys trying to break in, if they’re smart, will recognize the opportunity and take it. Anyone who’s been trying to break into the business for a while will know how hard it is to get that first break and jump at the chance of getting in on the ground floor.”

“Okay, but I don’t know the first thing about leading a band.”

“Sure you do. You forget I’ve talked to Willie and the rest of the guys up there. When Willie was out of town, they took their lead from you. You were putting together the setlists, taking charge in practice, and leading the band on stage. You just don’t realize it.”

“That’s different.”

“Not really. I’ll help you find guys to try out and they’ll know the score. The only thing you have to do is make sure you stand up for yourself. I know you’re capable of it. Just don’t let them push you around because you’re younger than all of them. You just have to remember you’ll be holding all the cards. You’ll be getting gigs off your name and the record label will be coming to look at you. As long as you remember that, you’ll be fine.”

“So how do we go about finding people? Won’t the guys in Willie’s band feel like I’m bailing on them? Should I talk to them first?”

“You can talk to them, but I don’t think they’d be for it. Most of those guys have had the opportunity to travel and have decided not to. They’re all getting up there in years and like just having a local club to play at regularly. Keep in mind if this works, you’re going to be pretty busy. The label will want you to tour when you’re able to and spend time putting together a record. They’ve all gone through that in the past and are at the point where they just want a steady gig to play at on weekends.”

“Okay, but what would I even need? Willie has five guys, but that seems a lot for the kind of music I do.”

“First off, you need to remember this is all up to you. I can offer you advice and point out things to consider, but you need to stop thinking about this as a hobby if you really want to go for it. I know you’re having fun playing on weekends and writing songs, and if that’s what you want to keep it to, that’s great. That’s how I treat most music these days, too. If you want to take it to the next level though, you’ve got to be ready to make your career yours. If you don’t, you’re going to end up in a world of hurt. There will always be friends, family members, record labels, agents, and managers telling you what they think you should be doing. It’s great to have them all in your corner, but remember at the end of the day it’s your art. Your name’s going to be on it. If it isn’t something you feel is your own, you’re going to burn out pretty damn quick. I’m happy to help you take that next step, but first, you have to decide if you want it.”

We picked up our food and went to the choir room in silence while I thought about what he’d said. Deep down, I knew he was right. So far I’d just been going with the flow. I played where Willie told me I could, I wrote based on how Mr. French said I should write. They always offered everything as advice or opportunities and were good about asking what I wanted, but I didn’t treat it like that.

“Okay,” I said as we sat down at his desk to eat our lunches. “When I think about the music I like, it’s usually a smaller band. Lead guitar, drums, bass. Sometimes a piano or second guitar. Maybe I should keep it simple to start, just three guys. Hopefully, they can sing so I’ll be able to play with the vocals more.”

“Okay, that’s good. Keep in mind if you have a song that needs something extra, but you don’t see needing it all the time, you can just bring in a session musician for any recording and check with the clubs that have house bands to see if you can borrow theirs. Of course, that isn’t available with a lot of clubs and is becoming rarer by the day. What a lot of bands do is just book someone to travel for a particular tour.”

“Seems kind of dickish to hire someone to tour with but not have them an actual member of the band.”

“It isn’t. Guys who do this do it as a career. They jump from band to band, going with whoever’s touring at the moment. If you end up needing someone for most of your songs, then add to the band. What’s dickish is having someone in the band who’s sidelined for everything but a handful of songs. Just because these guys will be coming in knowing it’s your band, they still have their own creative itches to fill. They aren’t there to just back you up and they aren’t working for you. They’re your partners. They’ll have their own ideas on how a song should go and most will want the opportunity to help write the music or even bring in some of their own songs.”

“Makes sense. So if I wanted to put together a band, how would I do that? Where do you find people?”

“That I can help you with. If you had your own name, you could put out an audition, but starting out I don’t think it’s a great idea to just throw you to the lions. It’s important to find people who are good enough to keep up with you and won’t have a problem with how young you are. I can make some calls, if you’re okay with that.”

“I’d appreciate it. Do you think we can put something together by May?”

“If you work hard at it, yeah, I do. Okay, let’s finish eating so you can show me what you worked on over the weekend.”

Mr. French wasn’t the only one with a surprise for me. That afternoon I found Chef with someone, and it was Vinnie. Both were doing stretching exercises. The first surprise had been Chef stretching. He usually just paced around me, while I worked out and trained, sometimes whacking the ground with a stick.

The second was Vinnie. He’d stopped and looked out at us training from time to time, but he’d never come outside before. I didn’t know if Chef was training someone else, although I figured since I was here every day, I’d have noticed by now.

“We’re having a slight change of pace today. I want to start introducing the concepts of how to deal with multiple attackers. I’d hoped I’d be able to have someone else here who had some training, but I couldn’t get them in time. Vinnie was nice enough to be a training dummy for us. Considering some of the problems you’ve described to me, it’s likely if you do end up in a physical altercation, it won’t be against one opponent.”

“Just go easy on me. I don’t want to have to explain to people a kid kicked my ass.”

“I’ll try and be gentle. I know how brittle people get in their old age.”

He laughed at me. Vinnie was essentially Chef’s right hand in the kitchen. Although Chef seemed to always be at the restaurant, when he couldn’t it was always Vinnie he left in charge. When I’d first started working for Chef, before he’d asked me to join Willie playing on weekends instead, Vinnie had been the one teaching me how to work in a kitchen. We weren’t friends exactly, but we were friendly and always got along. He liked to kid me about being so young and I always shot back making fun of him for being old. It had become our dynamic by this point.

“All right, enough of that. You know what you need to do to warm up. While you do that, I’ll explain to Vinnie what I need from him. Don’t slack or I’ll make you do everything twice.”

He always said that when I did warm-ups, even though he’d only had to enforce it once. It was funny. Normally, Chef was incredibly easy going. Even as a boss, he didn’t bust his employee’s chops. Sure, he’d rake you over the coals if you screwed up, but he’d do it in private and as soon as he explained just how you screwed up, it was over.

When we started training though, he became a different person. I assumed this was how he learned, mostly because this felt like what I imagined old-school monk discipline was like. Not that I minded. I knew he was trying to help me, and when I did get called out I usually deserved it.

To my credit, I didn’t have to redo anything. When I finished, I joined him and Vinnie, who were still talking right until I got up to them.

“Good job. Okay, here’s your first lesson. If you have to deal with multiple opponents, your first and best option is to retreat and fight another day. I don’t care how much training you have and how little they have, the more people you deal with the greater chance of you getting seriously hurt. Unless you’re backed into a corner or you have to stand your ground to protect someone else, I want you to get out of there. Remember the first thing I taught you, about why we fight?”

“We fight to defend our lives and the lives of others. Pride, property, and reputation are never good reasons to get into a fight,” I said.

“Right. There are, of course, times when running isn’t an option. Now, the first rule when dealing with multiple opponents is that a lot of what you’ve been learning goes out the window. So far I’ve taught you two kinds of things, swift moves like kicks and sweeps to disable an opponent or get them on the ground, and grapples for once they’re on the ground. The main reason for that is your protection. Grappling is about immobilizing your opponent and keeping them from seriously hurting you. That of course doesn’t work with multiple opponents, since you can only grapple one person at a time. So do things like kicks, sweeps, and other extended strikes, since you’re open to attack from the sides and your balance will be off.”

He placed me with Vinnie to my left and him in front of me.

“If you’re like this and you make a kick, do you see how open you are for Vinnie to take you to the ground or really hurt you?”

“Yes. My head and center are open to him.”

“Right, and what is the most important thing to avoid when in a fight?”

“Getting hit in the head.”

“Right. So, we have to take some lessons from boxing. There are some martial arts like Keysi, which started in Spain in the eighties, but I don’t want to delve into that too much, since I feel it’s too close in for single opponent work. Both it and boxing have the same basic principle, which is fighting defensively while looking for openings. If you’ve ever watched a boxer, you’ll see that their main stance keeps their center and head protected and is focused primarily on blocking hits.”

He held his arms up in front of him in the classic boxing stance. I might not know much about boxing, but I’d seen it enough in movies and TV to recognize it.

“You see how my arms are up here, covering my face, and I’m pulled in enough that I can adjust to block hits to the middle or pull a leg up to stop hits of kicks to my lower body?”

“Yes, and you’ve still got your hands in a position to jab if there’s an opening.”

“Exactly. The thing to know about boxing is that boxers know they’re going to get hit. Their accepting they’ll take some punishment until their opportunity opens up. That’s what fighting multiple opponents is like. This isn’t a movie and you’re not going to get out unhurt. What you’re trying to do is stay up and active long enough to take them down and avoid major damage to yourself.”

“Okay.”

“That other thing you might have seen if you’ve watched any boxers is how they’re always moving. They stay light on their feet and move with their stance, never more than a step from their solid base. This is what we’re going to work on now. Your goal is to line your attackers up. You want them as much in front of you as possible, since there’s nothing you can do if they’re able to come at you from behind. The more you can keep them in front of you, the better. Okay, let’s give it a try.”

Vinnie and Chef set up enough apart so that I had to worry about both of them. They both had pads on both hands, and kept moving around me. My job was to keep them both in front of me as much as possible, striking out at the pads when I saw an opportunity. Vinnie just moved and held the pads up, but Chef would regularly swipe out with the pad, trying to hit me in the gut or in the head. Sadly, he was able to do both a bunch of times.

It was completely different than what he taught me before, and I could see what he meant when he said he didn’t prefer it for single opponents. Even with just Chef slapping at me with pads, my forearms started to sting after a while with all the hits they were taking. Boxers took a lot of damage in a fight, or at least a lot more than I’d take getting an opponent on the ground and grappling.

I did start to work out how to move and stay steady, especially after Chef started to go for my feet, trying to knock me down as I moved. I was less successful blocking and finding opportunities for good strikes. It was really different than what I was used to. Chef at least seemed happy with my progress by the time we finished. I knew it would take a lot more work, but I could at least start to see how this kind of fighting would help more when dealing with several people.

I just needed to work on it.

****

Even with the restraining order messing up my schedule, the semester had started settling into a pattern. Practicing with Mr. French three days a week and studying with Kat the other two, baseball practice every day, and training and band practice at night. Despite how busy it was, I found I was enjoying most of it.

I didn’t love tutoring, although that wasn’t Kat’s fault and I’d never tell her either way. I’d just realized that I was never going to be a school kind of guy. I recognized the importance of doing well in classes and putting in the work and I’d decided to go to college, but I knew an undergraduate degree was the absolute maximum I’d ever do. I couldn’t imagine spending a decade or more in school like doctors or lawyers did. If I hadn’t made Mom a promise to get a bachelor’s degree I might even just be looking at trade schools, to get it over in two years, just to get schooling over faster. The only class I enjoyed was choir and the lessons from Mr. French at lunch. If all of school was that, I’d probably be doing a lot better.

Despite my apathy, classes hadn’t actually been all that bad. Kat had gotten me up to speed on a lot of my classes and helped me study for quizzes and tests enough that I was starting off this semester a lot better than last semester. I wasn’t going to be a straight-A student, but I wasn’t failing any classes, at least. Even Coach Bryant’s history class hadn’t been a complete nightmare. Maybe Vice-principal Keller had put pressure on him after the whole miss-graded test thing or maybe he was satisfied with the restraining order being a pain in my ass, but either way, he didn’t seem to be actively trying to hamstring me anymore. He was still rude and condescending to me, but that wasn’t unexpected and I could at least deal with it.

The only thing that was actively bugging me at the moment was Rhonda. Despite our breakup, she’d seemed to be on the right path again last year, after Aaron shared pictures of her with his friends. Now, every time I saw her, she was with the crowd that had led her the wrong way before. Although they’d ditched Camille, the most toxic member of her group, Rhonda had apparently decided to take up the mantle. I’d caught her actively bullying kids several times over the last few weeks. Each time she ran off when she noticed me and had gone out of her way to avoid me, probably knowing what I was going to say. She’d made it clear what she wanted, but I still thought there was a way she could get it without becoming a stereotypical mean girl in the process.

Wednesday I stumbled across another one of these scenes. I didn’t recognize the kid, who seemed on the young side and was probably a freshman. She seemed innocuous enough, but Rhonda had her cornered at the end of the hallway near the athletics department. Most of the kids on the cheer squad, the baseball team, and other sports with after-school practices were already out in the respective fields, so the halls were pretty empty. I’d had to check in with the vice-principal about being in the same hallway as Aaron for five seconds the day before, and was running late, which put only me, Rhonda and the girl she was bullying in the hallway.

“… such a fucking nerd. Why are you even over here? You can’t even make it around the track in gym and now you’re talking to Mrs. Pacer? Why would we want a pasty, flat …”

Rhonda turned to see who was coming down the hall and froze when she saw me. The girl, wisely, took her opportunity and scampered around Rhonda and down the hall past me, not making eye contact. When Rhonda realized she couldn’t find a way to get out without coming past me she tried to copy her victim, putting her head down and trying to go around me. I sidestepped causing Rhonda to skid to a halt. She tried going around the other way, but I sidestepped again, keeping myself between her and escape.

“Get out of my way,” she said.

She didn’t sound angry. In fact, she sounded meeker than I could ever remember her being.

“Not until we have a chance to talk.”

“I’ve said everything I want to say to you. I told you I’d prefer if we just stayed away from each other.”

“You did, and I’ve been trying to do that, but that was before you started campaigning for school bitch.”

“What did you say?” She asked, now sounding heated.

“I said ‘school bitch.’ This is the third time I’ve seen you picking on some kid. What did this one do to have you back her into a corner yelling at her?”

“It’s none of your business,” Rhonda said, trying to get around me again.

“Probably not, but I still can’t stand by while you torment someone for no reason. What, she asked to try out for cheering?”

“Yes. I’m going to be captain next year, which will make me the youngest cheer captain this school has ever had. I’m not going to let my team get filled up with these pathetic rejects. I convinced Coach Pacer that we should compete in nationals next year, and we can’t do that if we let just anyone on the team.”

“So it’s worth making these girls’ lives hell because you want a trophy? What will that matter when you graduate and go to college or after college? Don’t you think you’ll look back on this in ten years and regret it?”

“It is for college. Do you know how having something like that looks to the right sororities? I am thinking of my future and that of all the girls on the squad. That’s what leaders do.”

“Not like this. Leaders show others what they can achieve and try to make everyone in their group do their best, not act as some kind of gatekeeper for who joins up. Do you think this’ll get you the respect you want? They’ll all learn from your lesson and look for any opportunity to stab you in the back and take your place.”

“I don’t need a lecture from you. You can act all high and mighty, but I know you too, Charlie. You’ve never led anything. Don’t forget I listened to you talk about being nervous on stage. I’m out here making what I want for myself happen without people falling all over themselves to help me, while you feel all proud of yourself. Where would you be if people didn’t stumble over themselves to give you help?”

“Why do you think I have people backing me up, wanting to help me? Don’t you realize that the moment you have problems, the people you have around you will step over your body to take what you have? Hell, they’ve already done it once.”

“What do you even care? I keep reminding you we aren’t together anymore, and you keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I don’t care how you feel about me; I want you to leave me alone.”

“Happily, but I’m not going to stand by while you pick on some kid just because you’re popular and they aren’t, just like I didn’t desert you when your friends turned on you.”

“Whatever. Stay out of my way. I don’t want to hear that I’m making a mistake anymore. I don’t want to hear that I’m ‘better than this.’ I’m going to get what I want, and I’m not going to let you stand in my way. Remember that before you decide to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong next time.”

This time I let her walk around me, but called out after her, “It doesn’t have to be this way!”

“Well, it is,” she said, not looking back.

I watched her turn the corner and just shook my head, before putting her out of my mind and turning to the baseball field.