Chapter 46 -- With A Bullet!

Seeing you,

Or seeing anything as much as I do you.

I take for granted that you're always there.

I take for granted that you just don't care.

Sometimes I can't help seeing all the way through.

--Hello, It's Me (Todd Rundgren)

On Sunday afternoon, we had lunch on the patio outside the Solarium at the Swift's main residence. Kristen, Lynette, and I arrived with me carrying a bowl of Lynette's delicious macaroni salad that she made earlier that morning.

"Kristen tells me that the two of you will be auditioning at Puppy Dawg's," Daniel Swift said to me as we were eating sausages.

"Yes, sir," I answered, smiling. "The audition will be next weekend. I was told there are a couple of other bands that will be trying out as well."

"Are you sure you don't want me to put in a good word with the owner?"

I shook my head vehemently. "No, sir. I think we should get the gig on our own. If we don't get the gig, then we'll work even harder for another shot sometime down the line."

Charley, Kristen's mother, nodded her head at my answer.

After a few seconds, Daniel said, "OK, Jim. But please ... I've asked you before, please call me Daniel. I don't like the name 'Sir.'"

"That's fair ... Daniel," I said, smiling.

"Oogie and Kristen wrote a cool song yesterday," Lynette remarked.

Charley was impressed. "Both of you?"

I shrugged. "Actually, we had a lot of help from the rest of the band. Lynette here wrote the refrain, by the way, while Kris and I were going nuts trying to figure one out."

"I didn't know you were musical, dear," Charley said.

"I'm not, actually," Lynette blushed. "Kris and Jim were running around in circles trying to come up with the lines, and they tried out quite a few. I just took the ones they came up with that I liked and put them together, that's all."

Kristen said, "Don't be bashful, Lynette! You really helped out."

Daniel changed the subject as a favor to poor Lynette. "We've got the Legion Hall for next Saturday. This is for your sister's birthday, right, Jim?"

"Yes, sir ... er, Daniel. The House Band will be using that as an opportunity for a dress rehearsal."

"House Band?" Charley asked.

"Have you ever heard of Robbie Robertson? You know, the song The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down?"

"Robbie?" Charley asked, furrowing her brown. "I thought it was a woman singing that. That folk singer. What was her name? Oh, yes. Joan Baez?"

Kristen laughed. "Robbie Robertson wrote that song, and Joan Baez recorded her own version of it."

Nodding, I explained, "Anyway, his group is called, simply, The Band. I like its plain name, and we decided that a simple name like that would be easy to remember and not sound pretentious."

Kristen nodded and said, "Since we're going to be the house band at Puppy Dawg's, we figured we'd use that name."

"The two of you seem confident that you'll get the job," Charley said. "I mean, I know that both of you are talented..."

I shrugged. "I chose Puppy Dawg's because Gerry used to play there. There are a couple of other clubs in the area, but they're just not as conveniently located as Puppy Dawg's."

"Well, I truly wish you all good luck," Charlie said.

The House Band met for a rehearsal after lunch and we once again used the studio. The first item of business was to ensure that we would have everybody available for Merry's birthday party next Saturday and it turned out that everybody would be able to make it.

Kristen surprised me by making an announcement.

"Since we're officially a group now, next weekend will be a real gig--a job. Part of the present that Jim and I are giving to Merry is the party at the American Legion Hall as well as the House Band. For that reason, we'll be paying your way. Even though we're treating it as a rehearsal, everybody will be getting an equal split of five hundred dollars."

There were a bunch of surprised and almost disbelieving faces--including mine.

Kristen continued. "We're going to need some logistical support, so I nominate Lynette Robbins to be our road manager. Jim once proposed Lynette to be our general manager, but we'll let the band decide about that. For now, we can use her to help set up the stage, and help get the instruments plugged together. We'll also need somebody to work sound."

I had always envisioned performing in a club, but Kristen was pointing out things that I never thought about. For instance, in Indiana when Kristen and I played our first gig together, the instruments we used were delivered by Mr. Helmut's shop.

Gerry said, "We used Scott Hershey to work sound when we were doing Puppy Dawg's."

Kristen nodded. "Do you think he'll be able to help out next Saturday? There's also the audition a week later on Sunday."

"I'll ask him," Gerry said, smiling. "He was considering a job at McDonald's."

I blurted out, "Does he want fries with that?"

A few people laughed. Kristen was one of the ones that didn't and she gave me a stern look.

"OK. We'll split it up evenly for the first few weeks. Even Jim and I will get paid, despite the fact that we're hiring the band this weekend. Fair is fair. And we'll work out further arrangements when and if we get the gig at Puppy Dawg's."

I saw mental calculations and visions of unexpected money appearing to the members of the band. Kristen's announcement had taken us all by surprise.

"Is that all, Goddess?" I asked.

"No," Kristen said. "I'd like a vote on Lynette for road manager. I've asked her if she's interested, since a roadie isn't a glamorous job, and she's agreed with the stipulation that if there is a lot of heavy lifting, she might need some help from the band."

"Why Lynette?" Frank asked.

"Lynette's already committed to be there at all our performances anyway. She would like to help out, and she's not really groupie material."

This earned a polite laugh.

Kristen continued. "Lynette will also be sure to get the job done. Those of you who have seen her with the cheerleaders know that Lynette is able to deliver what she says she will. She's not stupid, and she'll do whatever she can to make sure what we ask her to do is done."

There wasn't much more discussion. Lynette got the job without anybody saying no.

Kristen smiled. "That's great! She'll be happy when she finds out. She's upstairs cooking some southern fried chicken right now for people that want to stay for dinner."

Everybody in the band had already sampled Lynette's excellent food, and there were smiles all about.

I decided to take charge of the rehearsal now that Lynette was an official part of the band. "Lynette also helped Kris and me work out words to the Working Title song. Do you guys want to hear what we came up with?"

Everybody was interested.

The open reel was already cued up and Kristen started it.

The song started with Kristen's two verses, and then my two verses followed them. Finally, Kristen and my duet on the refrain came up.

Despite the fact that the recording was rough, as there was no real interaction between Kristen and I singing and the rest of the band, everybody seemed impressed when the song was over.

"You did that last night?" Grip asked.

"Yeah," I said, smiling. "It's rough, I admit, but we finally have words for the song. I'd like to rework the rhythm section so it fits better, and add some feature work for the rhythm section after the first refrain. Then we can repeat the refrain before ending the song."

Amy, to my surprise, spoke up. "You don't have an ending to it, yet."

I smiled at the shy senior. "We're going to fix that today. I think we'll have our first original hit finished today. Is everybody up to the task?"

It took a bit longer than I hoped, but the group really seemed to like the song. On the refrain, Roy and Stacy accompanied Kristen and me, making it sound even better. We finally got a set of tracks recorded.

The rest of the rehearsal was just playing a bunch of songs. Now that Roy and I weren't deferring to each other on who should sing lead, but rather simply taking the songs we liked or the songs that we sounded better doing, it felt a lot more comfortable.

The band insisted that we play You Don't Mess Around With Jim, the song I performed at my birthday party.

"That's not a number for a rhythm section!" I protested.

"Why not?" Frank asked.

"Hell yeah, why not?" Grip asked.

"Well, it's just a guitar, a bass, and drums. If you guys want to sit out a song, why not let me play an Elton John song?"

"Who says we can't do that song with a rhythm section?" Grip asked, looking at Frank for confirmation, who nodded back.

"What do you mean?"

Frank turned to my beloved and said, "Kris, I know you can do the bass line." He then turned to Gerry and asked, "Can you do the acoustic guitar part?"

"Of course," Gerry said.

"Let's do it from the top. Amy, the song on trumpet is in the key of G. That would be an F to you, right?"

Amy turned to me for confirmation.

I nodded to Amy. "Just play chords until you get the feel for it. It's a simply rock and roll riff."

I wasn't used to Frank taking charge, but I was interested in finding out what he had in mind for this song.

Kristen and Steve started with a simple one-two beat. Gerry strummed his acoustic, and then I started singing, with Roy joining me to my surprise.

Uptown got it's hustlers,

Bowery got it's bums.

And forty-second street

Got big Jim Crittenhouse

A pool shootin' son of a gun!

Roy got the last name wrong, but we continued, unworried.

The funny part was that Frank and Grip were able to support the song without their instruments dominating.

After the refrain after "Big Jim hit the floor," Frank signaled me that he was going to play. He nodded to Grip, and the two of them took a duet, which sounded fantastic.

The refrain came on again, and afterward, I forgot the "Big Jim got his hat" spoken part, but Roy picked it up.

When the song was over, I said, "Frank ... Grip ... Lou! That was fantastic!"

"Sounds like a good inclusion for our songbook, huh?" Frank asked.

"Shit yes!"

Kristen asked if we could do Daydream Believer, which took us a few tries to get right. Grip had the trumpet part nailed, but Amy had some difficulty with the chords on the piano until Kristen went over and showed her how to do it.

After the rehearsal, most of the band went upstairs for Lynette's fried chicken. As I was going upstairs, Chris Henderson was announced over the intercom.

I had forgotten about him.

Luckily, I was prepared. I brought down a few pieces of fried chicken and met Chris in the music studio, and keyed up the record album that I had set up.

"This is a standard march number. I want you to envision the trumpets over there, the winds in the middle, and the lower brass to the right. We'll have the piccolo in the middle front."

"Piccolo?"

"Megan Gallagher."

"She's good, but she's not in the marching band."

I smiled. "Yeah, I know. Now, here's how you direct."

I went through the motions of how to hold his hands, and then had him perform against the record. I had to constantly remind Chris where the main players were at certain points, but by the third run through he got the basics down.

"It will be easier once you have the players in front of you. After all, you know their parts now."

"Why aren't you doing this?" Chris asked.

"I'm not performing in the talent show. I want everybody else to look good, instead. I can do much more behind the scenes."

Chris didn't look convinced. "But this was your idea, Oogie!"

"Having you as a drum major is also my idea. Let's let Mr. Harris know what you can do, OK?"

"Sure."

We went through the march about ten times total. I could tell that Chris was starting to get sick of the music.

"Jim, I think I'll be doing this in my sleep for the next week!"

"That's the idea," I said, quite serious. "You've got to show that you know what you're doing. I'll loan you the record so you can practice at home."

"Just what my parents will love: Sousa marches all night!"

The two of us laughed, and then headed upstairs, hoping the mashed potatoes weren't finished.

Next Saturday at the American Legion Hall, I was looking over the stage that Lynette had set up. Everything was in place and the musicians were tuning up and getting things ready.

Scott Hershey, the sound man that Gerry recommended, had come to one of the rehearsals we had earlier that week, and he arrived early for Merry's birthday.

"I guess this is it, Oogie."

"Call me Jim," I said.

"OK, Jim," Scott said, smiling. "Gerry's best stuff with the Yokels was the stuff he said that you arranged."

The Yokels was the name of Gerry's old band.

I shrugged. "I have a knack for some things," I said.

"Bullshit," Scott said, laughing. "I can tell talent."

"Whatever," I said with a shrug.

"The acoustics will be a bit tricky, but you said you did this a few months ago."

"In January. Things may be a bit different, but the high notes seemed to be overemphasized back then."

"I'll make it perfect for you, Oogie."

Kristen and I picked up Merry from our house. We told her that we had set up a date with her and Roy for a special birthday present. Merry was ecstatic as she rode in the back seat of the Camaro.

After a few minutes, Merry noticed something was amiss. "This isn't the way to your apartment."

"Roy is in town," I said.

"Ahh," Merry said. "I guess he's at the American Legion Hall, then."

"Huh?" I asked. "What did you say?"

"All the cheerleaders are going to be there, Jim. Don't you think that girls talk?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise!" I said.

Kristen was laughing her ass off as she continued to drive.

"I'll act surprised," Merry said. "Thank you for doing this for me. Daddy still isn't very happy about Roy, but Mom's helping to bring him around."

"I wish I could have helped out."

"You did," Merry said. "You found Kristen at my age. It's a hard argument to beat."

I smiled at Kristen, who gave me a quick kissing motion with her lips. "Yeah, I guess."

At the Legion Hall, Merry acted surprised. She was surprised, however, when she saw the stage set up. "Are you performing today?"

"The House Band is performing."

"You got the gig at Puppy Dawg's?" Merry asked, excited for me.

"Not yet. That's just our name. We're thinking big."

"You're going to play for me?" Merry asked.

"Of course, Shortcake!"

Merry had the biggest smile on her as she gave her big brother a hug.

There were a few last minute changes in plans. Roy got cold feet on a song he was supposed to sing, Go Away Little Girl.

I have to admit that song was my own idea. After what Merry told me in the car, however, I realized that Roy wouldn't be the perfect singer for that, especially if my step-father was still having problems with Merry having a boyfriend.

We still rehearsed the song, and if Roy wasn't going to sing it, I would have to. Roy and I had heard Donny Osmond's version of the song, but rejected doing it exactly his way, since neither of our voices could sound that young. I knew that there was at least one other version of that song, however, but none of us had it on record, since it was a little before our time. Instead, Roy took it about an octave lower than Donny and did it with a breathy vocal style that sounded quite nice.

Thinking about the song, I realized that it would actually have more meaning if I sang it to Merry, anyway. Since our rehearsals had me playing electronic piano on this song, I just needed to sing into the boom mike that Lynette quickly moved into place there.

Go away, little girl.

Go away, little girl.

I'm not supposed to be alone with you.

I know that your lips are sweet,

But our lips must never meet.

I belong to someone else,

And I must be true.

As I sang the song, I saw that my sister was staring at me as I sang it. I smiled at her, letting her know that I was thinking of her. I think she was realizing that there would never be anything sexual between us, and I'm not sure how she felt about that, but I felt a little pang of loss at that thought.

Frank gave a lovely trombone solo during one of the verses, and on the final verse, Scott must have turned up the gain on the piano I was playing, because it sounded a bit louder.

When you are near me like this,

You're much too hard to resist!

So, go away, little girl,

Just call it a day, little girl!

Oh, please, go away, little girl,

Before I beg you to stay!

After I finished the song, Merry ran up to the stage and threw her arms around me. I hugged and kissed my sister, and not for the first time, I felt the bittersweet feeling of loss that Merry and I would never be an item.

However, I knew that the two of us would always be the big brother and kid sister. I think that was how it was always destined to be.

Eventually, I did manage to convince Roy to sing a song for Merry. The song was, of course, You're Sixteen, done in the style that Ringo performed on his recent single.

You come on like a dream,

Peaches and cream,

Lips like strawberry wine,

You're sixteen,

You're beautiful,

And you're mine!

Kristen and I supplied the backup vocals, much like Harry Nilsson and Paul McCartney did for Ringo's version. Instead of playing a kazoo for the solo, Lou, our saxophone player, played it, sounding very funky.

Merry had an even bigger grin on her face when Roy finished his song. She was more restrained this time and didn't rush the stage again, but I could tell that the two of them might take that up some other time. I was happy for my sister.

During our second set, I was listening to Roy sing, A Summer Wind, a Frank Sinatra number that Roy liked a lot, and who convinced Kristen that he preferred to sing lead on. Lynette came up behind me and whispered, "You're not singing this song, Oogie. Will you dance with me?"

The dance floor was empty, and I accepted her offer. I normally don't like making a show of myself, except when I'm performing, but I was not about to refuse a request from somebody who had been so helpful and generous to me over the last few months.

Lynette was an excellent dancer, and she had been thinking of doing it professionally. Her moves were graceful, although it was easy for me to follow her. Back on stage, Kristen gave us a big smile as the rhythm section did their interlude.

As I turned away from the stage, I saw that my parents as well as Kristen's parents started to dance, although the number was a bit "old fashioned" for the younger people in the audience.

"You dance divine, Oogie," Lynette whispered to me as the song ended.

I smiled. "I'm not half as talented a dancer as you are, my sweet!" Then I bent down and kissed Lynnette on the back of her hand before I went back on stage for the next number.

After Merry's party, I congratulated the group on a job well done. Kristen had pay envelopes for everybody as well.

I was surprised when Kristen handed me an envelope. "A check? For me?"

"Face it, Oogie," Kristen said. "You're a professional musician now."

I smiled at Kristen, who kissed me and handed a similar envelope to Lynette.

Our next big gig was going to be Puppy Dawg's audition next weekend, but there would also be the talent show on the night before. Each of us had a lot of work to do just to get the talent show off the ground.

On Tuesday, I watched the marching band rehearse again. I could see Mr. Harris working with the band, giving them pointers where their marching could use improvement and making changes in their routine. He didn't seem to be addressing their sound, though.

Although Mr. Harris saw me out in the stands, he merely waved at me as I watched the rehearsal.

The marching band was split into different sections by instrument, with each section having a junior or senior member as the section leader. After their rehearsal, I talked with a few of the section leaders and told them I had an idea for the marching band to appear in the talent show.

Fredericka Salinger, better known as "Freddie," was the leader of the clarinets and she had a typical reaction. "You want us marching indoors?"

"No, Freddie," I said. "I had an idea of how the marching band could do something a bit outrageous."

Freddie narrowed her eyes. "Is this one of Zaniac's stunts?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Nope. This is one of my own outrageous stunts."

Freddie now seemed impressed. "Count me in."

"Thanks. See if you can get most of your section to join. It will be fun and I want this to be a surprise to Mr. Harris. We'll rehearse right after school on Friday ... a couple of hours before the show. If you see the other section leaders, pass the word."

"All right. Are you going to tell me what your plan is?"

"Let's save it for Friday," I said. "The fewer people who know about it, the more likely it will be a surprise at the show."

"All right."

The jazz band had rehearsals on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, but they were all for getting things ready for the talent show. These rehearsals were optional, so those that weren't doing things for the show didn't need to show up.

Apparently, when I made that announcement, more of the stragglers that hadn't been involved with the talent show became more involved, and as a result, the music room was usually pretty packed with band students and people who were going to perform at the show.

On Thursday, I told Mr. Proilet that I had an idea for the marching band. The reason I told him was that I needed to block out a time near the start of the show when I'd be able have them go on.

"I take it Roger doesn't know about your idea."

I confessed to my teacher. "Mr. Harris told me that he's always interested in my opinions, but after learning that I have no interest in the marching drills, he seems to have lost interest. I have something fun planned, and even if it doesn't work out perfectly, it will be a good addition to the show on its own."

"Roger said you were watching the band rehearse a couple of days ago."

"Yeah. He waved at me."

Mr. Proilet said, "Do you want me to talk to Roger?"

"Please, no!" I begged. "Let me do it my way. Something tells me that if I cannot get through to him directly, then a little subtlety might work wonders."

"OK. Can I at least know what you're going to do?"

I think something registered on my face, because Mr. Proilet immediately said, "Forget it, Jim. I trust you."

"You don't think Mr. Harris will mind if the band wears their uniforms, do you?"

Mr. Proilet laughed. "Do what you want, son."

Most of the marching band showed up in the music room on Friday afternoon. My intentions with them must have mystified everybody.

I arranged a bunch of chairs that I thought approximated the size of the stage in the auditorium. In the back, I put the drummers, and the brass players were split among the sides. In the middle were the winds. I allowed the section leaders to assign positions within their ranks--I learned from watching the marching band rehearse that the leaders took their jobs seriously and I wanted allies instead of enemies.

There was a seat in the middle of the front row that was conspicuously marked "RESERVED." I had told the section leaders that I had somebody additional that would be sitting there, and I guess most of them figured it was Kristen.

I had members of the House Band around the room, as well as Chris Henderson and Megan Gallagher, who were going to help us out. I waited until everybody was accounted for and the DND light went on in the band room before telling everybody what was up.

"I think most of you know Megan from the orchestra. She's agreed to help us out today."

I then asked the drum section leaders to pick out a single snare drummer, a tenor drummer, and a bass drummer.

I signaled Chris to take the conductor's podium. He did, and I think most people were surprised when he pulled out my baton.

"Chris will conduct for us. He knows music, and I've taught him how to direct this particular march we're going to do today."

Kristen picked up her large grocery bag and started handing out the packages she purchased a couple of weeks ago.

"These are toys!" said a surprised musician when he saw what Kristen handed him.

"Yup," I said, nodding. "But they are instruments as well. I think everybody knows how to play the kazoo."

I was interrupted by a cacophony of hums and buzzes as the band opened their packages and started playing with their kazoos.

I had warned Chris about this, and he patiently tapped on the podium with his baton until everybody settled down.

"Yes, these are kazoos," I said. "What I would like is for everybody to play your own parts, but play them on the kazoo. It's important that everybody play exactly their own part! We're going to just use the three drummers that we picked out up through the middle of the second trio." I glanced at the music and said, "It's marked in your music as (E). That's where you will put down your kazoos and start playing your marching instruments. Drummers, you don't need to play the kazoos, obviously, but we've given each of you one so you don't feel unappreciated!"

I glanced at the Sousaphone players. "I suggest you have your Sousaphones already on, since it will be distracting if you have to squirm around to play in the middle of the song. Same goes for baritones and any other instrument that will take more than a second or so to get ready. The transition should be smooth and a surprise to the audience."

I motioned to Megan to take her reserved seat. She quietly took her assigned seat, and a few of her neighbors smiled as they noticed her piccolo.

When I figured everybody was ready, I signaled to Chris.

The band started, but after only about four bars, there was so much laughing that they were unable to continue playing.

"Once again from the top," Chris said patiently.

After a few false starts, we finally got the song working. During the second trio, Megan put down her kazoo and started playing the flute trills on the piccolo. This, of course, was what my mind had told me had been missing from the band's performance. Over the muddled sounds of the kazoos, the piccolo sounded perfect.

After Megan's feature performance, the band picked up their instruments and started playing for real. It wasn't a smooth transition and they played a bit loud, but that was expected.

The fact was that with the full band including the full brass section and drums, Megan couldn't really be heard for the third and final trio despite the high pitch of her instrument. I sighed and realized that I would have to put plan "B" into action.

After that performance, everybody was amazed. The band had thought it would sound silly, but it actually sounded great, although the transition needed some more work.

After a few minutes, Chris tapped on the podium and went for another run through. He saw me walk toward the back and simply started up the band on kazoos once more.

The music sounded a bit different from the back, and when the finale started up, I duplicated Megan's performance on another piccolo from the back. A lot of drummers were a bit surprised to hear me playing, actually.

Chris nodded to me that the balance was much better this time, and the people around me glad-handed me at the end.

"The transition was better this time," Chris announced. "Let's do it a couple more times to see if we can get it perfect."

When the rehearsal ended, I told the band members to remember to bring their uniforms for the talent show.

The audience for the talent show was packed. Ms. Kendall made a bit of a speech to the audience about how this would be a different talent show from previous years, and how a group of talented musicians banded together to get people who wouldn't have thought about performing to come onstage.

There was other stuff that was said, but I wasn't listening to Ms. Kendall. I was setting up the marching band for the first performance of the evening.

Everybody was in uniform, including Megan, who borrowed one of the extra uniforms that the band had. Because of the temperature, they played with their blue pants and yellow shirts and left off the jackets and those silly hats they wore which were called, for some strange reason, "shakers."