Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 13

In between lunch and dinner, I’d gone back out to check on the pig and found Chef there, already.

“Hey, Chef,” I said, walking up next to him.

“You did good, today. Keep it up like that, and you might become a damn fine cook one day.”

“I had a blast.”

“Yeah,  once you really get into it, nothing beats this work. I loved my  fighting days, but I’d never trade it for this. What’s even better is  when you get to watch people eat what you made, and they love it. I  swear that’s the real addiction.”

“I wanted to say thanks. Hanna  only talked to you about me a few weeks ago and since then you’ve gone  out of your way over and over to help me. Not just giving me the job and  all the free lessons, but … just everything. I don’t know how I can  honestly pay you back.”

“You’re a good kid, Charlie. It might seem  like I only pop in and out or stick you with someone else during a  shift, but I’m always watching. I see how hard you work and how hard you  focus. All I really want from anyone who works here is that they strive  to be the best version of themselves they can be. ‘Course, that’s not  good news for you.”

“Why?” I asked, suddenly worried.

“You’ve  had some tough breaks, but I think with the right chances, you can go  really far in this world. If you want to pay me back, then reach your  potential and don’t disappoint me.”

I nodded solemnly. I wasn’t sure he was right about the potential thing, but I was positive I never wanted to let Chef down.

I  didn’t get to do as much work for the prep up for the dinner rush, but  that was fine with me. As interesting as the day had been, I don’t think  I’d ever worked this hard in my whole life. Not that I was complaining.  All my previous shifts had been with training wheels, working a less  important station with someone standing over my shoulder. While I still  had Chef at hand pretty much all day and screwed up plenty of times, I  felt like a real member of the team for the first time.

It was a  little weird, after a full day working in the kitchens and being in the  mix of everything, to be standing aside and watching everyone else cook.  If I had to describe it, it felt a little like an out of body  experience, changing from having been an integral part of the machine to  now watching it work without me. Chef eventually shooed me out of the  kitchen. Partly because I was in the way and partly because I needed to  get ready for my date.

I headed up to his apartment where I’d  stashed the backpack with my clothes and went to take a shower. I still  had ash and dirt inside my clothes from cleaning the pit, now caked down  with sweat. I’d gotten the outside of my clothes mostly clean and had  worn an apron while cooking, so I hadn’t really looked at what kind of  state I was in until now. It felt good standing under the hot water,  letting it massage my muscles. I didn’t stay too long, in case Chef  decided he needed to take a shower for some reason. I didn’t want to use  up all his hot water, but I spent long enough to feel much more relaxed  by the time I was done.

The clothes I picked out were the nicest I  had, which still only made it ‘okay’ for a date. I’d picked a dark red  button-up shirt that Mom had gotten from a thrift store last year after  my last big growth spurt and my least damaged jeans. I know someone like  Camille would have mocked how I was dressed, but I thought I looked  pretty good.

By the time I cleaned up the shower, so Chef didn’t  have to deal with my mess, and gotten dressed, it was already seven. I  still had an hour until Rhonda showed up. Even though I’ve been up to  shower in Chef’s apartment a bunch of times over the last few weeks, it  felt strange waiting there by myself. I ended up going down and hanging  around the open area behind the restaurant, not far from where we’d  roasted the pig.

It had come down while we were prepping dinner  and was now inside being served to customers. Chef had told us not to  put the coals out, so the burning applewood could still be smelled all  the way out in the parking lot. He’d even thrown an extra piece onto the  ashes to keep the smell going. He called it marketing, and I would bet  that it was working. There was still juices from the pig that had  dripped into the fire pit, and the burning log filled the air with not  only the smell of wood smoke but also brought back out the deeper scents  of fat sizzling in a fire. I’d been around the pig all day, and my  mouth was already watering again from the smell.

I made sure to  stay far enough away from the fire to keep my clothes from becoming too  smoky. They’d have a little bit of it, but I didn’t want it so bad that  Rhonda didn’t want to get close to me.

I was sitting on one of the  benches Chef sat on while I worked out and was just thinking when the  back door opened and Hanna came outside.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” I asked, surprised to see her.

“All the tables in my section have food and are good, so I came out to get some fresh air for a second. It’s crazy in there.”

“Really? I haven’t been in the dining room yet. We were pretty busy at lunch.”

“Apparently,  the people who live around here and some of the people that came for  lunch passed the word that Chef got a pig. He doesn’t do it that often  and people love it, so we tend to get a lot more local traffic when it  happens. I hadn’t seen you tonight?”

“I stopped work after dinner prep and Chef kicked me out of the kitchen at six-thirty.”

“It was weird you not riding into work today. I’d just gotten used to our routine.”

“Yeah,  it was early when Chef picked me up, but I loved it. I really hope it  worked for him, ‘cause I’d prefer working this shift. I learned more  about cooking today than I think I have in my entire life combined.”

“Cool. Excited for your date?”

“Yep.”

“Willie mentioned you had a surprise, but wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

“Maybe,” I said with a shrug.

“Fine, be that way, but you’ll tell me later. Damn, gotta go.”

Another  waitress had stuck her head out the back door right then, which had  been her cue that one of her tables needed something. I’d been so  wrapped up in learning stuff and trying to show Chef I could do a good  job that I hadn’t thought about the change in schedule much, but Hanna  was right.

She’d taken to coming by my trailer a little bit early  on Saturdays and Sundays to pick me up so we could hang out for a little  while. Now that I thought about it, it was strange to not see her  today. I’d see her tomorrow, of course, but I’d also started getting  used to our schedule.

Of course, we’d have more to talk about  tomorrow after I played with the band. Willie’d arranged for me to have  rides home the days we’d practiced, once I mentioned I was keeping my  playing tonight secret from Hanna, so she hadn’t actually seen me  playing with them yet. I was sure she’d have something to say about the  secret once she found out.

Thinking about Willie, I made my way  inside and around to the stage to talk to him. Hanna had been right  about the dining room. It was packed and I saw some people standing  around outside or near the hostess stand, waiting to get a seat. I  hadn’t been outside of the kitchen much, so I didn’t have a lot to  compare it to, but it seemed like the business would be good tonight.  Looking around as I passed through, I saw plenty of fish and pork, so  the specials must have been going well. I felt a weird thrill seeing  people happily eating the food I’d had some part in preparing.

We  weren’t going on ‘till nine, so most of the band either wasn’t there yet  or sitting outside with Willie. I’d brought my guitar that morning and I  saw it on stage in a stand next to Willie’s. I hadn’t put it out yet,  so I assumed Willie must have gone up to Chef’s apartment at some point,  saw it, and set it up for me. Hanna had seen my guitar a bunch of  times, so I wondered if she’d seen it and gotten a hint that I’d be  playing tonight.

Since my guitar was already in place, I made my  way outside through the rest of the dining room, where I found Willie  sitting in his usual seat outside, along with about half the band.

I was still there when I saw Rhonda and Jordan walking up the steps and waved them over.

“Ladies,  I’d like you to meet Willie. He plays here on weekends and has been  helping me learn some new stuff on the guitar. Willie, this is Rhonda  and her sister Jordan.”

“I believe Jordan has come by here before,” Willie said, reaching out to shake both of their hands.

“Yea, I’ve come up with Hanna a few times. We’re friends from school.”

“So I take it Rhonda here is your date tonight.”

I  saw Rhonda blush a little bit and look down, oddly demure for her. She  usually had no problem being the center of attention, but maybe that was  only with people her own age.

“Yep. If you’ll excuse us,” I said,  making our way inside. Jordan broke off and headed over to the bar,  where Hanna was waiting for her.

“Are you sure we’ll be able to get a table. This place is packed.”

“Sure. I know the owner,” I said, smiling to myself.

Of  course, I knew that Chef had told the hosts to hold a small table near  the stage when it got close to eight, so I was pretty sure it wouldn’t  have been a problem. Since the Blue Ridge didn’t take reservations, I  felt a little guilty at having a table reserved for me when most people  couldn’t, but only a little. The rest of me was glad he did because  setting this up only to have to wait outside would have ruined the image  I was going for tonight.

“You look nice,” I said as we sat down.

She  was wearing a loose button-up shirt where the buttons stopped a few  inches below her neck and a skirt that stopped a few inches above her  knees. It was an outfit that covered everything but still showed a lot  of skin. The combination really worked.

“Thanks, you look good, too. Jordan said Hanna said you worked all day?”

“Yeah, I went with Chef to a farmer’s market this morning and helped prepare the food for tonight.”

“Really? So you cooked our meal.”

“Not  really, well, kind of. I filleted some of the fish that’s on special,  but if you get that, someone else will cook it. I did do a lot of the  work on the suckling pig this morning. We started cooking it eight hours  ago. I’ve smelled it all day, and I think that’s what I’m going to  get.”

“Then I’ll get that too. How do you like working here?”

“I love it, especially after today.”

“Why after today?”

“Up  till today, I’d been doing little stuff, helping on side dishes or  whatnot. Today was the first time I really got to do something. This  morning it was just Chef and me, and we were really cooking. I learned  so much today.”

“You know women appreciate a man that can cook.”

“Good to know.”

We  ordered our food and talked while we waited. She told me about her day,  which was mostly shopping for clothes with her friends at a mall down  in Ashville. While I didn’t have much opinion on clothes and knew little  of women’s clothes, I just enjoyed hearing her talk. What I found  surprising was that she managed to spend hours in the mall and only  bought two things, both of which she described in detail. I didn’t go  shopping much, but when we did, I looked around, found something that  looked good, and bought it. I don’t think I’d spent more than thirty  minutes at any one time shopping for anything.

Our food showed up  and it was as good as I’d imagined it all day. The meat was juicy and so  tender it practically melted in your mouth. I hadn’t worked on the  sides, which Chef said didn’t need to be done till they were ordered,  but they were a surprise. The parmesan potatoes I’d had before and they  were still great, with a slightly salty and sweet flavor from the  baked-in cheese cut by a dusting of pepper. The greens were the real  surprise.

I’d never had them and had pictured something like a  salad. These were cooked down and soft, and almost tasted meaty on their  own, with a really full flavor. I could see why Chef had been excited  to see them after he bought the pig since they worked so well in  combination.

As we ate, I described to Rhonda the steps we took in  cooking the pig, although I left out a few of the details to keep out  the more grisly parts at the beginning that weren’t appropriate with  dinner.

She loved it too and we had a perfect meal, eating slowly  and talking. As I saw the clock getting close to nine, I sped up,  wanting to finish my food before it was time to go on stage.

“Do we have to be somewhere?” Rhonda asked, noticing me looking at the clock.

“No,  but I do have a surprise for you,” I said as I looked over my shoulder  to see the first members of the band getting set up on the stage.

When we’d gotten to our table, I’d pulled out the chair facing the stage for her; a move I thought was pretty smooth.

“Really, what?”

“You’ll see. I’ll be back in a bit. Just wait here and finish your food, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, looking a bit apprehensive at what I had planned.

I  took a big gulp of water to wash everything down and slid my chair  back. For a moment, I felt my stomach rumble, although I knew it was  nerves and excitement for what was about to happen.

I got to the stage at the same time as Willie, who’d made his way from his regular spot on the porch.

“You ready for this?” He said as we both stepped up onto the stage.

“I think so … if I don’t throw up.”

“Ha. You know that happened to me, my first time in front of a crowd.”

He  gave me a solid pat on the shoulder and moved to the stool he perched  on when the band played. I picked up both of our guitars and handed his  to him. I was using Dad’s older Stratocaster. It was from their middle  line, not one of the super expensive ones, but it had a good sound and  worked well with a wide range of music. We’d already tested it out on  the smaller sound system Willie used, which was essentially a couple of  small amps hooked into a soundboard. He said considering the size of the  Blue Ridge, they didn’t need much, just enough to fill the whole room.

“I  hope you’re all havin’ a good night tonight,” Willie said into the mic.  “Before we get started, I wanted to welcome the newest addition to our  little band. This here’s Charlie Nelson, who goes to school right here  in Wellsville. He’s a risin’ talent, and I think he’s gonna be a big  hit. Now, let’s get things started with a little Black Lake Moon.”

The  drums beat out the first three notes and we fell into the rhythm.  Willie usually played whatever he felt like in the moment, but he’d made  actual setlists for tonight, to make sure I was up to speed. This was  the song he’d started teaching me as a test to see if I could keep up  with the band before they’d offered to let me play on Saturday nights.

The  words were particularly melancholy, even for a blues song. It was about  a man being drowned in a lake by a lynch mob, told from the point of  view of a moon reflecting in the surface of the lake. Willie’s gravely,  low tones gave it an almost dirge feeling, except that the music and  speed were up-tempo. I’d found it incredibly sad the first time I’d  heard it.

I didn’t look up, worried I’d make eye contact with  someone and throw myself. Instead, I started playing with my eyes  closed, listening to the beat of the drummer and the other instruments,  keeping pace. I was now glad we’d practiced. I knew I could keep up with  them and stay in the beat, but the feeling of all the eyes watching us  was enough to throw me if I hadn’t practiced the full set through with  everyone several times first.

I opened my eyes and turned slightly  to face obliquely towards Willie, playing along with him. He’d altered  the music so that it could have two rhythmic guitars, in addition to the  bass, piano, and drums that were already part of the band. Much of the  time, we were playing the same part, but in several places, where the  Moon cried for the dead man, he separated us in harmony, our notes  mirroring each other. At points, the vocals would drop out and it would  sound almost like crying if you listened for it.

The song ended,  and I stopped the strings, looking up for the first time. I’ll never  forget the feeling. People had known music time was coming up, so they’d  mostly finished up eating and pushed in to see the stage better. The  audience clapping was a pretty good feeling, but I found Rhonda and the  look in her eyes was something I’d remember for a long time.

She  had her hands clasped together covering her mouth, her eyes big, staring  back before she broke and started clapping, a look of pride on her  face.

“Charlie,” Willie said, breaking my focus from Rhonda.

“Sorry,” I said, refocusing on what I was supposed to be doing.

We  played through the rest of the set he’d planned for the first half of  the night. We’d played for an hour straight. I was drenched through and  my arms were tired, but the adrenaline was still pumping. Most of the  people eating had finished up by this point and chairs were turned  around so everyone could face the stage. Some of the people, those who’d  come for just dinner, had left, but more had come in.

The Blue  Ridge was pretty much the only live music venue around unless you wanted  to drive down to Ashville or up into Tennessee or Virginia, so it  always drew a pretty good crowd of people who worked in service, at the  factory, and farmers from the surrounding area looking for a weekend  night out. There were also a fair number of people traveling for fun  who’d seen the sign for live music and stopped in. Chef had been right  about the age of the audience, though. It wasn’t all forty and  fifty-year-olds. I saw plenty of couples in their early and late  twenties as well. It wasn’t a club, so it tended to get an older  clientele, making Rhonda stand out, sitting alone at one of the tables.

She  looked to be having a good time, though. I’d stopped being so nervous  several songs in and had been able to look over at her while playing,  seeing her swaying to the music.

“Before we take our break, we  have a little treat in store. This is a bit of a change for us, but it’s  somethin’ we’re going to try out for a few weeks and see how it goes.  Charlie here is going to take over and give you folks a taste of a  little something different. Charlie?”

The last part was said as he  stood up from his stool and switched places with me. Some of the songs  we’d picked needed two guitars, so he stayed on stage for those, but was  giving me the lead. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep  breath to calm my nerves.

“Thanks, Willie. I hope you folks are  doing good tonight. Tonight we’re going to take a winding trip through  the years, starting with some classics I think everyone will recognize.”

We’d  rehearsed the timing of my banter, which I’d pre-planned out. Willie  said that later it would come naturally, but it was best to have  everything planned my first time up. I looked over at the drummer and he  banged out the first notes to San Francisco Summer, a song that had been popular in the sixties and was still known thanks to a rapper sampling it last year.

We  got through the intro notes and I took a deep breath and let the first  words come out, slow and a little raspy. This song was a love ballad  with a slower pace than some of the things we’d play later, but I liked  the key change in the second verse. It sounded almost modern in  sections, while still having a very clearly sixties melody.

In the  next thirty minutes, we played one song from each decade, generally  sticking to pop, so we avoided things like disco, which didn’t do well  in this kind of setting. We did plan in one contemporary country song,  just to round out the night. It seemed to go over well, and people would  sometimes clap when they heard a song they recognized. A few even sang  along.

I only did five songs, and it was over before I knew it.  I’d really enjoyed playing with Willie, but finishing that last song, I  realized Mom had been right. Being out front, everyone’s focus on me,  watching them get into the music I was playing and the words I was  singing, was addicting. As soon as I finished, I knew I wanted more. I  could see why people dropped out of school to follow their music. I  couldn’t imagine any other job in the world making me feel what I was  feeling at that moment.

“With that, we’ll take a five-minute break,” Willie said, taking the mic from me to make the announcement.

I  stepped off the stage and headed into the kitchen and out the back.  Willie usually went into the storeroom, which was close to the second  door into the kitchen area by the stage. I’d seen them there before on  other weekends sitting on hundred-pound bags of flour and crates of  tomato sauce.

I was sweating bullets and needed some air, so I  went out through the kitchen and out back. It wasn’t cold yet, but the  air at night had started cooling and the gentle breeze felt amazing. The  door banged open behind me. I turned to find Hanna, Jordan, and Rhonda  coming outside.

“Chef’ll be pissed if he saw you bring them through the kitchen.”

“He’ll live,” Hanna said. “What the hell? You’ve been planning this and didn’t say anything?”

“I  wanted it to be a surprise. Chef talked to me about it earlier this  week. I’ve been cutting my training a little short all week to practice  with them while you did your homework.”

“That was amazing,” Rhonda  said, her hands moving erratically. “I can’t believe they let you do  all those songs and that last one where you slowed down Missy Wallace’s Shangri-La and made it lower, holy hell. I think it’s actually better than the original!”

“Did you like it? You said you wanted to hear me play and I thought this would be fun.”

“It’s  great. I don’t even like blues, but I loved every song. Holy crap, can  you play, and no one told me you could sing. Your voice is … God, so  good.”

Rhonda launched herself at me, practically tackling me as  she kissed me. It was radically different from our last kiss. That had  been slow and gentle. This was all passion and was far from gentle. I  definitely saw value in both approaches.

We broke apart when Jordan cleared her throat.

“Dude, we’re right here.”

“Sorry,” I said, sheepishly, taking a step back from Rhonda but reaching down to hold her hand.

“I’ll  give you a pass for tonight, even I was impressed. You’re killing it in  there. I was just here for the free meal and was gonna head home and  let Hanna drop Rhonda off, but I think I’ll stay till you’re done  playing.”

“Thanks, guys. Except for Hanna and Willie, I haven’t  ever played for anyone before, so I was really nervous. I’m so relieved  you liked it.”

Dwight, the piano player, stuck his head out the back door and said, “Time to get back.”

“Ready for more?”

I  pulled Rhonda with me through the kitchen, still clutching her hand,  with Jordan and Hanna following behind us. Now that some of the  nervousness had left, I was more excited than ever to get back on stage.