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Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #1888224
Jaxon finds his instruments missing right before he goes on stage.
“Both of them? Both harmonicas are missing? How is this possible?!” Jaxon’s nose flared like an angry bull as he hollered at his band manager. She was a mousy woman about a foot shorter than he and his larger than life frustration made her look even smaller. She waited while he blew his smoke.

When his breathing slowed, she said quietly, “The dobro is gone as well,” and braced herself for another storm.

But that was just too much. The harmonicas were a minor enough instrument, he could get mad and then just do the show without them. But the dobro, it was priceless. That guitar was specific to Jaxon’s sound, and there were 2,000 people outside waiting to know what that sound was. The largest audience he’d managed to book a gig for, and his musical life force had gone missing. All he could do was be silent and slowly collapse onto the floor. Tangible silence filled the backstage area while Jaxon thought about what could have happened to his instruments. Only three people knew the combination to his guitar case. Cheri, his manager, had just as much riding on this performance as he did. His wife Julia was back home feeling very pregnant had been nothing but supportive of his success this year. Then he suddenly remembered.

“It’s Charlie, that snake.”

“Your brother? What do you mean?”

“He’s trying to sabotage me. He auditioned to open for this show too. I didn’t know at the time, or even when I told him I got it. But I was talking to my sister the other day and she said Charlie had been mopey lately since he didn’t get the job he had been trying for. As we talked we realized it was for the same show. Jesus! I knew he could hold a grudge but I never expected him to go this far.”

“But your guitar was in your case this morning when we loaded the van. He must be here somewhere.”

“But there’s no time! I go on in five.”

“Not without your dobro!” Cheri squeaked back, looking at him with a man-get-a-grip expression.

Jaxon rubbed his hand against his face, pulling on his mouth in thought. He couldn’t let Charlie win this one. No one, not even his spiteful baby brother, would stop him from having this moment. There were producers, journalists and other successful musicians at this show. He had to make an impact, the building momentum of this year was too fragile to have any setbacks. He looked as if he were about to cry. He grabbed Cheri by shoulders.

“Cher, I’ve worked… we’ve worked… just too hard for this. We’ve busted our backs to get me to this little show, and I have to go on that stage. I am sure Charlie is 20 feet away, laughing his guts out. But we don’t have time to find him.”

“I’ll go borrow a guitar from the other band,” Cheri said, buying into Jaxon’s determination.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I don’t want to borrow a guitar. That is only a mediocre solution, that won’t impress anyone.”

“You don’t have a lot of choice here, Jax,” but she could see that mischievous look on his face.

The announcement was being made, time was up. Cheri watched Jaxon strut onto the stage with nothing but his blue jeans, flannel shirt and cowboy hat. Cringing, she heard him say, “This song is dedicated to my brother, Charlie. Charlie! I love you, man.” She started trembling, anticipating the certain disaster of her unpredictable client.

Instead, Jaxon exploded into a ball of musical energy. He began singing with his smooth, sultry bluegrass voice, then went into an impressive skat routine mimicking his dobro and harmonica almost perfectly. He danced wildly around the stage, jumping from spot to spot on stage and sharing instruments with his drummer, his bass player and the pianist. He played an impeccable air guitar. He grabbed extra drumsticks and pounded the stage with them in rhythm. It was such a show the audience began screaming with admiration. It was five minutes of intense, never before seen showmanship with an outstanding voice. And it was enough to win the crowd over so that when he did grab that borrowed guitar, everyone was still high off of the thrill of the opening number. Cheri felt a tap on her should during the second song, and she turned around to see several suits asking when Jaxon would be available to perform at festivals, tours and even exclusive venues.

Meanwhile, in the back corner of the field, Charlie sat in the grass, nursing a bottle of whiskey and hugging a shiny brass dobro, hating his brother.

© Copyright 2012 Kali Orkin (korkin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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