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By Root 782 0

that I had twenty full minutes to fill before the James Boys returned, and not enough music to fill it with. I vamped a few chords, tuned the “A” string a trifle higher, and then played “Empty Pockets.” The moment I hit the last chord, I got to my feet and bowed from the waist to the thin, sporadic applause. Before playing “Grandma's Quilt,” I went through the motions of tuning again, and slowed the tempo of the song as I picked through it. The applause was stronger when I finished. By this time the crowd realized that my music was unusual, or, at least, different. My last number was the best, my favorite, and my nervousness had disappeared completely. There was hardly a sound from the audience as I played “Georgia Girl,” but when I finished and stood up to take a bow, the applause was definitely generous.

“I could take lessons from you,” Dick James said, as he climbed onto the stand. “You make some mighty fine sounds, Frankerino.”

I nodded, smiled and wet my lips. The James Boys were also unaware that my repertoire only consisted of three homemade numbers. Lee Vernon, a tall drink in his hand, crossed the room and congratulated me. He whispered something to Dick, and readjusted the microphone. I had returned my guitar to the case and was halfway to the bar when Vernon's voice rasped out of the speakers in the ceiling.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there's something you don't know about Frank Mansfield!” His voice stopped me, and I looked down at the floor. “In view of his great manual dexterity, it may be difficult to believe, but Frank Mansfield is the only deaf-and-dumb guitar player in the world! Let's give Frank another big hand? Let him feel the vibrations through the floor!”

As the drunken crowd applauded wildly and stomped their feet on the floor, I ran across the room, pushed aside the curtain to the hallway, and rushed blindly into the dressing room. I supposed Lee Vernon meant well, but I was angered by his announcement. Not only did I want to quit, I wanted to punch him in the nose. In view of his stupid announcement, he would be damned well embarrassed when I played the same three songs forty minutes later.

There was an open bottle of bourbon on the dressing table. I hit it a couple of times and smoked five cigarettes before my next appearance on the stand. Tiny James, the bass player, came and got me.

“You're on, Mansfield.” He jerked his thumb. “Dick's announced you already.”

I returned to the stand and got out my guitar. The room had twice as many patrons and the air was blue with smoke. Vernon's announcement had created a morbid interest. The bar crowd had pushed their way in and standees blocked the way to the service bar. The moment I picked up my instrument and strummed a few triplets, there were shushing sounds from the tables and the room was silent.

Indifferently, expertly, I played through my three numbers without pause. The applause was generous. I put the guitar back in the case and made my exit to the dressing room. When the door closed on the last James Boy I took a pull out of the open bottle of whiskey. Lee Vernon entered the room. His face was flushed and he was laughing. He held out a hand for the bottle and, when I handed it to him, freshened the drink in his left hand.

Watching him sullenly, I took another drink out of the bottle. Vernon let loose with a wild peal of happy laughter.

“Those are the only three songs you know, aren't they?” he said.

I grinned and took another short drink.

“That's wonderful, Frank,” he said sincerely. “Really wonderful!” He smiled broadly, showing his big white teeth. “Did you make them up yourself?”

I nodded.

A frown creased Vernon's flushed face, and he placed his glass down carefully on the narrow ledge in front of the mirror. He's going to fire me, I thought. The moment I put the five-dollar bill in my pocket I'm going to knock his teeth out.

“I think that's terrific, Frank. I really do. Any fool can take a few lessons and play ordinary songs on a guitar. Hell, I can play a little bit myself, and if I sing while I'm playing, I can drown out the mistakes