fiction Mark Cassidy Winter Blues

Winter Blues

Finish up my set in the Old Kettle, Bobby come over to where I'm settin in back

a the room, set another beer and a shot a Crown longside what I already got lined up.

Don't drink any fore a show, get me all edgy and tight, but I do enjoy a little somethin

after I'm done, fore I head upstairs. "What is this now?" ask Bobby. Tween sets Bobby

like to put on a little jazz, on account a he a jazz nut plus he own the place. Ain't

goin play no rock and roll nor blues even it a blues night in the Old Kettle Bar 'N' Grill,

got the sign blinkin and winkin out the window, snow all comin down round about.

Bobby got Miles playin, waitin on the next outfit, fellow purveyors a twelve bar

drinkin accompaniment, set up. Turn and point to a gal settin her own self at a biddy

table front a the stage. Give me a wave and a big smile and, bein the friendly, and

not to mention lonesome sort a person I am, wave her over. Ain't like had much in the

way a companionship in recent times, bein on the road and such, bein a what to call

divorcee. Huh? You know it? I'm just sayin.

"Hi there! Sorry, I don't mean to intrude."

"That's just fine honey, you ain't intrudin none." Pretty gal what I'm sayin. Got

she a bulkyass purple and red ski-sweater, blue jeans tuck in her boots. Sneakin up on

chunky little bit, which I ain't unfamiliar my own self. But my goodness, such a smile!

And shiny eyes make my heart go pitty pat.

"I saw what you were drinking and I just wanted to let you know how much I

enjoyed your show."

Reach out and touch her arm. "Well thank you sweetie. That's very nice a you."

Nod at the drinks. "And for this too. Much appreciated!"

Flap her hands a little, like she flustered some, start to stand. "I'll leave you to

it. I just wanted to say thanks again. I really enjoyed it."

"Well now hold up there girl. You don't want to join me?" Bobby standin by, like

he managin the situation, lean in and pull a chair out.

"Really? you sure?"

"Come on!" Wave a hand at the glasses on the table. "Plenty keep me busy now

so a little help ain't goin hurt none is it?"

"Gee, thanks."

Sit down side a me. Push a glass a beer and a shot a Crown in her direction,

curious to see which one she goin go for first and ain't need to wait long fore she dive

right in and swallow the whisky in a go. I'm sayin. Lift her head, lick them glossy lips

little bit, push her hair back and reach her hand cross the table over top the glasses

and the biddy rack a menu cards.

"Natalie!"

Take her hand, feel the heat come off. "Well hi there Natalie, it's my pleasure.

I'm Lydia."

"I really do love your stuff. Makes me want to dance the way you get a bounce

going with the slide and foot stomping and all of that. I love it!"

Take me a sip a beer, sip a whisky. "Ain't see you dancin none though honey.

You right in front a me I should see you up and boppin long with the rest a the folks."

Wave my hand out at the room gettin ready for the next thing come on.

"I would dance if my husband was with me."

Lean back give her my what to call quizzical look. "What is that now? Need his

permission to dance is it? Dancin all it is girl."

"No, it's not like that." Turn her mouth down some. "He has to work. He's on the

nightshift. I don't like to go anywhere without him, you know? Doesn't seem fair if he

has to work and I'm out having fun." Look up again and smile.

"But you here."

"Oh, that's because of you! He's seen you before. We both have. Here and over

at the East Fortieth, Sunday nights, although he's not much of a fan for the open mic

format." She look around a little. "He prefers it here. More like a proper night out,

you know?"

Take me another drink. "He a fan a the blues then is he?"

"Oh, he loves the blues." Take her a drink a beer. "Actually, he considers

himself something of an aficionado."

"A fishy what now?" Lean a little to brush my fingertips against her arm. "I'm

kiddin honey." Catch Bobby's eye cross the room. I been playin hereabouts a while

gone since. Bobby look out for me.

"Which kinda blues your husband enjoy?"

Frown some. "To be honest he likes the British blues. You know? From the

sixties. All of those people like Chicken Shack and Savoy Brown. Peter Green. He

believes the British lads, as he calls them, don't get enough credit."

"Mmmm, they invent the blues did they?"

Jump up and laugh. "See? He told me! He said, Tell her that. You get a chance

to talk to her, tell her what I said about it, see what she says."

"That why y'all come on across to talk to me?"

"Oh no." She sat down again. "Sorry. I love your stuff as well. I just wanted to

say hello was the main thing, and say thanks for how you play. Like I say, we've seen

you a couple times. He really admires what you do, how you do it, with the slide and

so on. He loves it. I told him I wouldn't come without him but he said, No you have to

go. You can't miss that. You can't miss seeing Lydia play. We don't know when she

might get back around here." Take her a sip a beer. "You'll be back though, right? I

mean, I'd hate to think that we won't get another chance."

Bobby pull up got a clutch a shots set em down tween me and the gal, push one

towards her hand, which she knock on the head no time, what I'm sayin, and the glass

hit a little hard she set it down again.

Give her a minute let her settle some "He play? Y'all's man?"

"Sorry. I'm a little excited. Talking to you is like meeting a famous person."

"Well I am famous honey. I'm a hit with your husband no matter what all else,

right?"

She smiled and nodded her head.

"He play?"

"No. He has a guitar. Well, six or seven actually, but he doesn't play. He likes to

look at them. He has them hanging on the wall in the den." Pick up her glass, drank

some beer. "He'll try sometime." And then a little more, set the glass down. "Can I ask

you something?"

"Somethin from you or somethin from y'all's man gone off all workin hard leave

his pretty wife hangin in a blues bar by herself. What's his name anyway?"

Look at me. "Henry." Shrug a little. "Hank."

"He a good man, ol Hank?" Put a little salt on how I say his name. And you want

to think, even a tiny hesitation in there goin let the light in. But she good, she quick,

even a little bit defensive.

"Yes. He's fine. He's a good man." Set her fingers on the rim a her beer glass.

"Well that's good." Take me a drink a beer my own self, set the glass back

down. "You love him?"

Eyes get wide on me then. "Honey," tell her. "I'm a blues singer, that's my livin.

Got questions we in the business obliged to ask. He a good man it's ok, it's alright. But

keep on with bein a good man goin put a hard workin blues gal such as myself outta

business. All I'm sayin." Put my own bigass toothy smile on her. "Huh? You know it?"

Watchin me now, got a careful look up on her like she thinkin about somethin.

Touch the back a her hand again. "I'm just foolin with you honey. Ain't every

day I get to set and chitchat with a pretty gal, I'm on the road and bustin my sloppy

ass, gettin home late, whatnot. I'm just enjoyin meetin y'all. Ain't tryin to offend nor

nothin."

"Oh no, it's fine. . ."

"What you wanta ask me anyhow? Go on ahead, I'll quit fuckin with y'all." Push

another shot glass in her direction.

Put her hands, fingers splay wide edge a the table. "I want to have something

up on my husband. When I get home he's going to call from work and ask me how it

was. I want to be able to tell him something he doesn't know."

"About me."

"Well, sure. But about the blues as well. You are a real blues singer. Tell me

something."

Take me another drink, pick up a napkin dab my lips. "You goin interview me

now?"

"Well no, but. . ."

"You goin take notes?"

But she rollin on me now. "Where are you from? Are you from Alabama?"

"God forfend honey. Give you that idea?"

"Louisiana?"

"The Lord have mercy! I look like a coonass to you? Come on! I'm from Texas

darlin. Texas gal what you all got in your eyes." Raise my voice. "And a damn fine

lookin one too, I say so my own self." Open my arms up wide, jiggle little bit. "All a

me is Texas. You want it you got it."

Eyes get big again, glance this way and that. Bobby at the bar leanin, chucklin

some.

"It's alright sweetie. Daddy from Houston its own self, Mamma from up round

Lufkin but she gone to be with Jesus now, bless her heart." Take me another shot

knock it back in one.

"And that's where you learned to play the blues? Down in Texas?"

"Learn to play the blues a lot a places hon. Blues a part a life what it is, sneak

up on you anytime, anywhere. But I did, what you want a know, pick up the

fundamentals on Quintana Island."

"Oh God, that sounds delicious!" Cover her mouth like she said somethin

shouldna come out. I laugh. And got me a sweet laugh too, I want to.

Look at me through her fingers. "Please tell me."

Set myself back a little bit in my chair look across the table at this here biddy

gal all wound up and excited, took herself maybe a couple too many shots a good

whisky. "Tell you what honey. goin relate the history a my tappin into the blues and

such, venerable form a communication that it is, but we ain't goin do that here. We

done settin here drinkin whisky and beer. Ain't good for a body, what I'm sayin. You

know it? I'm a settle up with Bobby and we goin go through to the coffee shop, take us

a cup a coffee, what's required for this here story I'm a tell you. Huh?" Stand up, look

across at her, got her big open shiny whisky face goin on. "Come on honey. Get us a

cup a coffee. Don't forget y'all's cell lessen that fine man a yours want a call, make

sure you alright, ain't keepin bad company and such."

Bobby over and help her up. Wave me off I hand him money.

"See you tomorrow," tell me.

"I be here."

"I know it."

Coffee shop in the Kettle, side the lobby, an old fashioned kinda place what it

is, got they a shiny chrome counter with stools all along, got tables by the window

look out to the sidewalk. Drunk folks, happy folks, tired folks, walkin, chirpin, hangin

along in the snow headin home. Big ol police cruiser other side the street keepin a

eye. Get us two big steamy mugs a coffee we set. She a little wore out but goin be

alright. She with Lydia and Lydia goin take good care a her best way I know how.

"You want a eat something honey? Get us some pie you want to. Got some fine

cherry pie hereabout, if I do say."

"That would be nice."

me." "There you go." Order up some pie.

She a little woozy but she ready, sweep her hair back from off her face. "Tell

Gal bring us I'm sayin a big ol piece a pie and a couple forks, set em down

either side the plate. Thank you honey," tell her. Take me a bite on account a ain't

natural for me to refuse pie, turn the dish round to face my lady friend here. "Servin

beer what I was doin down yonder, name a Captain Ken's Krabshack, in Freeport,

Brazoria County, bout a hour south out from Houston down along two-eighty-eight.

Step out the back a Captain Ken's you in the Brazos river. Real nice spot what it was

and likely still is. Gal come in there one time, long with her buddies from the project

goin on over to Quintana Island, some type a refinery, get to talkin. Fore you know it

want to show me the porpoises in the shippin channel and, next thing after that, we

livin together, got her a what to call company house on the beach right there on the

island, house on stilts, side the ocean."

"That sounds amazing."

"Well it was sweetie. For a while anyhow, you know it?"

"What was her name?"

"Betheny." Take me some coffee. "Betheny a safety officer in the plant, for the

construction crews and whatall workin the job. Doin well what she was, steady

income and like that. Out back a the house was the road longside the plant, one end a

the island to the other, and out front was the ocean. Big ol beach far as you can see

and the ocean flat as glass clear out to the sky. Got to where, Betheny out the bed to

work, take me a chair from the kitchen onto the deck, deck wrap all round the house

what it was, take me my pot a coffee, set out there all day I want to. Go to work

round four be ready for the boys come in off the day shift. Get back to the house

round ten, eleven, eat dinner with Beth and head to the bed. It was alright."

"And there was guitar playing in the bar?"

"One particular night get home, we chillin, take us a little red wine gettin all

snuggly, head to the bed and I forget the chair was outside still on the deck under the

stars. Mornin get up, get my coffee, step out in the sunshine, ain't a damn chair in

sight."

Look on over, she driftin on me just a little.

Tap my fork side the dish. "You keepin up honey?" Smile at me, eyes a little

droopy. "I mean gone. Beach that time a the mornin ain't but empty clear to

Louisiana, all the way back yonder to Corpus, but I swear ain't see a thing. And I'm

lookin. I mean I'm beady-eyed out there walkin that rail over top the sand. Walk all

round the house til I'm facin the road out back and the line a traffic creepin up into

the plant gate, walk all the way further round back to the ocean and not a damn chair

in sight. Beth goin be pissed what I'm sayin. Head back in the house take another

chair, ain't but inside the kitchen a minute, step back out, damn if it ain't out there

now, way out there almost to the waves. And got somebody settin on it! Huh? Which,

how come I ain't see it before?"

Natalie shakin her head, mumble through a mouthful a pie, got cherry juice on

down her chin. "What did you do?"

"Well what do you think I did?" Come out a bit snippy.

Shook her head again.

"Went straight back in the house took my huntin rifle out the closet, drop that

motherfucker where he sat, back a his head, topple his skanky ass in the water, in the

tide comin in."

Wait on that to register, take a minute fore she clear on what she just heard.

"Texas honey. Step on my toes you goin pay a price, what I'm sayin. Huh?"

Mouth fall open slow, pie all in there back a her pretty lips, make me want to

reach out and ease that sweet chin back up into place, wipe the juice with a

fingertip. Smile. "You with me now honey? Y'all payin attention now?"

Blink some.

"What I did, walk on down there, ask him, hands on my hips, what in the name

a the sweet Lord Jesus he plannin on doin with my wife's kitchen furniture. Old black

gentleman what he was. Bald as a cue ball, settin yonder under the sun, waves comin

in toward his feet, nice shiny shoes, got him a big fat ol cigarette hangin off on his

lip, got him a guitar leanin up against."

Natalie chewin again. She wide awake now.

"And wearin a suit."

Clear her throat, reach for her cup a coffee. "You were married to Betheny?"

"Look up at me, tell me, Sorry ma'am, cigarette wagglin off on his lip. Tell me

was walkin out along the beach headin, can't recall where all he said he was headed,

might a been California, and got tired. Bandy ol legs give out on him, tell me. Need to

set a spell and saw the chair on the deck, didn't think any harm goin come from it.

Stand up straight as he able and tell me he sorry again, goin be on his way. Tell him

sit his skinny ass back down. Walk back up to the house grab another chair, couple

mugs and the pot, head on back set alongside a him, pour him a cup a coffee."

"That's so cool!"

"Set and watch the ocean a spell, big ships comin and goin, in and out the ship

channel, pelicans sailin over top the waves. Ain't talk much, ain't much to say. And

then he lift his guitar and start to strummin little bit and playin for me. What he

considered reparations, tell me. Every day after that walk down the beach to meet

him, he laugh out loud, tell me, Hey gal! Come on in my kitchen! And we sit and drink

coffee and he play for me and show me where to put my fingers, how to holler out

the words a the songs. Two a us, singin beat the band to the ocean and the sky and

the big ol floppy birds cruisin."

"Geez."

"Wasn't no Jesus sweetheart. Tell me once, only once, what was his name and

damn if I can remember all what he said it was. Robert somethin. Bald as a cue ball,

like I said. Big ol cigarette hangin. All I remember. How I first pick up to playin the

blues a little bit."

"That's incredible."

"And then one mornin get out the bed he gone. Beach empty. Chair on the deck

where all it belonged and, first time in weeks, got clouds out yonder far side a the

sky. Way out there and built up high, nasty lookin what they was, and rollin. Couple

days later Harvey come to visit, work stop on the construction site and Beth decided

was time for her to go home."

"Harvey?"

"Hurricane Harvey honey. And I came with her."

"Ok, up here. Betheny is Canadian?"

"Yes ma'am. Found us a biddy house by the river down yonder to Calgary, and

then she went up north to work, met a gal from out east and took off runnin." Wave

my hand, pointin at the window and the snow, show how fast she ran.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"That's alright honey. Like I said, ain't hurt none for playin the blues now does

it?"

"That's an amazing story!"

Set quiet a spell, finish the pie and the coffee, lookin out the window at the

snow comin down like we gone all shy. Street about empty now. Look across at me

finally.

"It took time for you to get used to the winters up here?"

"Little bit, I guess, specially I was left on my own in a foreign country, make my

own way." Look across at her, shrug. "But it's alright. It's life. And like Jimi say, I still

got my guitar!"

Smile at me then. Tell you she got the sweetest smile since Betheny Tomalin

walk into Captain Ken's Krabshack down yonder to Freeport, I ain't lyin.

"You goin come see me tomorrow night?"

Glance at me quick and then turn her head back to the window, at our

reflections in the glass and the snow fallin, fillin the street. Cross the way the police

cruiser pull out slow, exhaust all rollin and tumblin in the ice crystal streetlight.

Turn my voice down low, ain't much more'n a whisper. "Husband workin nights

again tomorrow night?"

She lookin out the window but I can tell she lookin at me. Nod her head just a

little bit. Just enough.

Mark Cassidy was born in the UK and lives, presently, in Texas. Mark Cassidy