Читать книгу The Neverborne - James Anderson - Страница 4

By the time he was ready to leave his house for the dance, it was two in the afternoon. He had to go over to the lead singer’s house and work out a couple of new songs the band wanted to learn. The band would meet early at The Mag and rehearse them.

He called the lead singer, Mark, and told him he would be there in twenty minutes. Then he called Mike, his brother, who attended UCLA on a football scholarship, to see if he was in his dorm. Mike was there. He told him about Georgia and his brother whistled over the phone. “Close call, little brother.”

After hanging up, he checked his wallet and saw, after getting his share from last night’s gig, he had about two hundred dollars. He took out one hundred and fifty and went back in his room to retrieve the money can off his shelf. After last night’s take, he had about eight hundred cash and thought he better give this to his mother so she could put it in the bank for him.

“Got to go, mom.” He handed her the wad of bills, mostly hundreds. “Would you deposit this next time you go to the bank?”

“OK,” she replied. “What about dinner, son?”

“I’ll get something on the way. Mike said to give you his love. I just talked to him.”

“Well. That’s nice.” She was always gratified to hear that her sons talked to each other. “Do you want something to take with you? I could make you a sandwich.” She always went through the whole gamut of food she could make him.

“Really, mom, the breakfast was great and I’m still stuffed.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “See you when I get back. Love you.”

She patted his cheek and smiled. “Love you, too, son.”

After leaving Mark’s house, he arrived at The Mag a little before seven. Ruben left the acoustic in the trunk and brought in his Gretch, gym bag, and show clothes. Corky was already setting up equipment and had his little brother, Bull, with him. Bull was a big, strong kid who liked playing roady with his brother. He thought it was a good way to meet girls, and it was.

The stage was a huge wooden affair with a front that curved outward onto the dance floor, giving the Mustangs plenty of room to move around. Corky and Bull had set up the PA system and all the amplifiers. Steve, the drummer, had already arrived and was adjusting his drums. As the other members arrived, each began tuning up and running through scales and riffs.

When everyone was satisfied they were in tune with each other and the sound check was finished, Mark said, “Rube and I worked out those two songs and wrote down the chords.” Mark handed sheets of paper to Vince, the bass player, and Eddie, the organ player. That’s all they needed.

“Let’s try Unchained Melody.” The band had decided to learn it because people were always asking for it. It was the same situation with ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs.

Everyone knew exactly what to do. The drummer tapped his sticks together three times and they played the intro. When Mark started singing, he nailed the notes and the runs. He almost sounded better than the original.

After they finished, they played it three more times and were satisfied. They did the same thing with the other song. Ruben expressed his concern about people being able to dance to it and Eddie said they’d play it later on after people in the crowd drank the booze they snuck in. The Mag didn’t sell liquor, but security turned a blind eye to people who brought it in, which most people did.

The doors were going to open in about thirty minutes so they stopped to change, feeling they were ready. By the time the doors opened, almost four hundred people were waiting outside and more were walking up. Usually, they got one thousand to fifteen hundred people at these dances at four dollars a person, then sold soft drinks and snacks at jacked-up prices. The promoters hired local biker gangs for security. In Fresno in 1966, The Mag was the place to be on Saturday night.

Anyone who has ever played in a band knows that the first song will tell you how good you will sound that night. The first song the Mustangs played was ‘Gimme Some Lovin,’ and they knew tonight was something special. Corky usually walked around the dance floor on the first song and listened for any adjustments in volume that needed to be made. At the end of the first song the band saw him mouth the word “perfect.”

After ‘A Hard Day’s Night,’ ‘Good Loving,’ and ‘Help Me Rhonda,’ the crowd was screaming, clapping, and whistling between songs. Some pushing broke out but security quickly stopped it. They played ‘Have Mercy’ and took a break per their contract. When they returned, they played ‘Kicks,’ ‘Hit the Road Jack,’ ‘Honky Tonk Woman,’ and ‘Mustang Sally.’ Then someone yelled out ‘Unchained Melody’ and Mark took the microphone.

“Did I hear somebody say ‘Unchained Melody’?” There was an immediate roar. “We can play that, and this will be the first time we play it at a gig. ARE YOU READY?” The crowd responded and Steve tapped it off. By this time, girls lined the stage, resting their elbows on the railing and whispering in each other’s ear.

If you were facing the stage, Ruben was on the far right, his normal spot. Mark always took the middle, and Vince, the bass player, took the far left. Eddie, the organ player, was behind Vince. The drummer was behind them all and controlled the tempos.

When they started playing “Unchained Melody,” Ruben saw her. She was standing at the very end of the stage, maybe ten feet from where he stood, half hidden by the curtain. He couldn’t see her clearly but there was something that drew him to her. He took a couple of steps and stopped as the soft stage light revealed the most beautiful girl he had ever seen looking straight at him. Her beauty shocked him, the way a miracle would. He finally smiled, and she smiled back. Her smile was so dazzling that he almost made a mistake. Eddie started his organ lead and Ruben switched to open chords. He had the last part of the lead and put everything he had into it.

After the lead, Mark picked it up. “I-I-I-I-I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to-o-o-o me-e-e-e-e.” Ruben looked at her and saw her smile and mouth the word “WOW.” Ruben smiled and mouthed “thank you.”

After the song ended, someone yelled “Fun, Fun, Fun.” Mark said into the mike, “’Fun, Fun, Fun’ by the Beach Boys. This is Ruben’s song. Come on, man. It’s your turn.”

Ruben loved doing this song. He stepped up to the lead mike and Steve tapped it off. The crowd was having a great time. Every time the band sang “fun, fun, fun,” the crowd screamed it also. During the guitar lead, Ruben looked over in the corner and she was gone - his heart sank. But then he thought, Take it easy, man. She’s around. She’s probably dancing and realized he felt a twinge of jealousy.

At their next break, Ruben went looking and saw her talking to a boy, her back to Ruben. He thought, I’ve got to talk to her. He stood back a couple of seconds, trying to get up the nerve to say something. He finally thought, do it, you idiot.

He walked up behind her. In the dim light, her hair looked jet-black. It hung down to the middle of her back and was thick and curly. Ruben tapped her on the shoulder and she turned.

“Oh, hello,” she said with that dazzling smile. “My name’s Esther Rosenberg.” She extended her hand and, as he took it, something shot through him. He felt himself shaking inside and tried to calm down.

“Hi,” he said, trying his best not to look or sound stupid. “My name’s Ruben Barlow. I saw you and wanted to say hello.”

“I’m glad you did.” Her eyes looked as black as her hair. She turned to the guy she was talking to. “This is my brother, Ben. Ben, Ruben.” Ruben extended his hand but Ben shot a threatening glance that said, “You touch my sister, you’re a dead man.” Ruben didn’t care. He was just glad to know Ben wasn’t competition. Esther caught the exchange and took charge. “You, sir, are an excellent musician.’

Ben spoke with a hostile edge to his voice, “My sister has played the piano for years. She’s great.” His tone was saying that his sister was a real musician.

Esther touched Ben’s check with a perfect hand. “Thank you, dear brother, but I think we’re in the presence of true talent here. Is your family musical, Ruben?”

“My mother was singing opera with a touring company when she met Dad. She’s forever trying to get me to learn notes and play classical music.”

Esther mouth fell open. She reached out and touched his arm. “You mean you can play like that and you don’t read notes? How can you do that?”

“I never thought about it. It just happens.”

Just then, Bull opened the stage door. “Time, Ruben.”

“OK, Bull. Thanks.” The door was still open when Ruben looked back at Esther and could fully see her beauty in the new light. He took in a sharp breath.

“Are you all right, Ruben?” asked Esther.

Ruben had to tell her or he would never forgive himself. “Please, please, please don’t think I’m too forward, and don’t think this is a line. I’m saying this in front of your brother and I swear this is the truth. I’ve felt all day that something great was on the way and you’re it.” He closed his eyes and wanted to kick himself for calling her an “it.” He opened his eyes again - she was still there, smiling at him. He took a deep breath and continued. “I’m seventeen years old. I live with my mother in Hanford. I’m Jewish. My father died five years ago and I’ve never had a girlfriend. But I think you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met in my life. And I would very much like to see you again.” Now all he could do was wait.

Bull still had the door open and was listening. Ruben never did stuff like this and this chick was beautiful. “I’ll tell the guys it will be a minute,” and closed the door.

Esther looked at her bother who was staring at Ruben with open hostility. He began to move toward Ruben but Esther stopped him and said, “Ruben, thank you for saying those wonderful things. I am also seventeen and Jewish and I would be very happy to see you again. You go play, and I will be waiting for you at your next break.”

Ruben couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t smiling, he was grinning. “OK. OK.” He opened the door but turned around and came back. “I’ve got to go play, now. Promise you won’t go anywhere.”

She laughed, “I promise I’ll be here.”

“OK. OK.” He knew he was acting stupid but didn’t care. Ruben was absolutely smitten. When they started playing again, she was in the same place. They played, ‘Johnny Be Good,’ ‘Little Old Lady from Pasadena,’ ‘Come a Little Bit Closer,’ ‘Glad All Over,’ ‘Twist and Shout,’ ‘All Day and All of the Night,’ and ‘You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling,’ with only seconds between songs. Ruben saw several guys asked her to dance but she turned them down.

When it was time for the next break he found out where she lived. She said she would not stay for the entire dance because her parents wanted them home at ‘a decent hour.’ She asked if he could see her the next day. The band always took Sundays off unless there was some kind of gig or emergency. There were none so they agreed he would come to her house at three in the afternoon.

After the dance, their manager, Del Santos, walked up and said, “Great job tonight. Everybody loved you.” He distributed one hundred and fifty dollars each and said, “Next weekend, you’re booked at the Rose Garden in Pismo Beach Friday and Saturday so you’ll have to leave right after school. We’re doing two nights for three grand total. Some guy from the Rose Garden was here tonight to check you out. You impressed him. I’ll reserve some motel rooms for you and call Corky with the details. See you later, boys.”

Ruben drove home thinking about Esther. When he got home and opened the door, he waited for his mother to get up as she always did. He sat his guitars down and watched her appear at her bedroom door, her robe pulled tight around her ample form.

“Everything alright, son?

“Everything’s great, Mom. Can I talk to you for a second?”

Holding her robe together with one hand, she walked toward him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Mom, nothing in the world.” He couldn’t hold back any longer. “I met this girl tonight, Mom. I think I’m in love.”

His mother reacted as expected. “Well…ah….eh….what’s her name?”

“Esther Rosenberg. She Jewish and lives in Fresno. She’s a classical musician and I’m going to see her tomorrow at three. I’m going to meet her parents, I guess. I already met her brother. I don’t think he trusts me yet, but with a sister like that, who can blame him?”

When he finally went to bed, he fantasized long into the night. He didn’t even care if she wouldn’t make bacon. He could live without bacon.

The following morning, he ate breakfast with his mother. Of course they talked more about Esther. She asked a thousand questions he couldn’t answer. Her concerns were understandable, but his mother hadn’t met her, hadn’t seen how perfect she was. He took extra care in cleaning up and asked his mother what he should do about the hickey. He got the expected, “You shouldn’t have it in the first place” but she covered it with some make up and offered some credible excuses to tell Esther. Finally, she grilled him on how to act around her parents: be sure to say what a lovely home they have and sit up straight and chew with his mouth closed and compliment anything given him and on and on. He listened. He really did want to make an impression.

On his mother’s advice, he’d found a florist open on Sunday and bought some flowers for Esther’s mother. “Bring her mother some flowers,” she said. “It will make an impression and make her think you’ve got some sense.”