Thunderbowl - Lesley Choyce [9]
I dug deep in my pocket for my favorite guitar pick. I closed my eyes and I let myself climb way inside the music. The old me was back. With my guitar I was off into deep space.
At the end of the set, Langford was standing beside the stage clapping. “We need to talk, Jeremy,” he said.
“I don’t know if there’s anything else I have to say. You can see the whole story.”
“Come on,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”
I could see he was not going to give up that easily. We sat down at a table. The waiter brought us each a beer, but I didn’t touch mine. Mr. Langford looked worried. He smiled at me. “That was fantastic music, Jeremy. I can see why you want to quit school. I played bass in a rock band when I was younger. It was 1969. We even opened for the Grateful Dead once.”
“No kidding?” I said, forgetting I was talking to my English teacher.
“No kidding,” Langford repeated. “But that’s ancient history. I just wanted you to know that I know what it feels like. But you should still stay in school. You will have plenty of time for music when you graduate. Don’t throw everything away for this.”
Now I felt uncomfortable. “Did you come here to hassle me or hear the band play?”
Langford threw his hands up in the air, but kept on talking.
What I didn’t know then was that Richie Gregg had been right behind us. He was playing spy and playing dirty. As soon as he began to get the picture he tromped off to get Stewy Lyons.
Richie came back and sat Stewy down at our table. Drek and Al spotted trouble and they came over too.
“Tell Stewy the truth, Germ-brain,” Richie said. “You’re underage and you’re still in school.”
Stewy looked really annoyed with the whole scene. Langford and my big mouth could lose us the gig. Al and Drek would be really choked. It would be the end of our having an audience for our music.
“And this guy here is his English teacher,” Richie continued. He said “English teacher” like he was talking about some gross disease.
Stewy rolled up his sleeves and flexed his tattoos. He always did that when he was bugged by something. He gave Langford a dirty look. “You got any problems with the kid playing a little music?”
“None at all,” Langford answered.
Stewy looked back at Richie.
“He’s underage,” Richie hissed. “He ain’t allowed to play here. He lied to you.”
Stewy looked straight at me and shook his head. “You should have told me the truth, kid.”
“Yeah,” Richie snapped, “and if the city finds out, they’re gonna kick him out of here. Maybe they’ll even shut you down. Man, you better do something quick.”
“Richie,” Stewy began slowly, “who’s gonna tell the city?”
“Him. Maybe he will,” Richie said, pointing at Mr. Langford.
“You gonna report me?” Stewy asked Langford.
Mr. L. just shook his head, no.
“What about you, Richie? Are you gonna tattle on us?”
Richie acted like he was being shoved up against a wall. “Well, I could you know. And that would be the end of Thunderbowl.”
Stewy took a deep breath and stood up. He leaned over Richie and breathed heavily into his face. “Richie, if you tell anyone, I promise you I’ll fix it so you never get a paying job playing music in this city ever again. Your Mongrel Dogs will be eating out of garbage cans for the rest of your life.”
Then Stewy looked at me. “Richie’s right about one thing. If you’re underage, you’re supposed to stay backstage between sets.” Stewy’s voice was real low, but that was worse than him yelling at me. “If you hang out in the bar, I’m breaking the law. And if I get caught, I get closed down. No kid is getting me closed down.” Stewy sounded tough. “From now on, you don’t step off the front of the stage, you hear me?”
Suddenly I felt like a little kid being scolded. I nodded. Langford shook his head. Stewy scooped up the beer glasses off the table and walked away.
Richie gave me one final dirty look. “It’s not over, Germ-brain. Wait and see.”
Chapter Nine
The next day report cards came out. Bad news was written all over mine. Music had ruined my school career.
I walked out the front door of the school, headed for home, not