Sunday, August 7, 2011

“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Short Story-Rough Draft)

Rough Draft (2008)

“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 1: Tip The Waitress)

One more glass of Chardonnay and its time for a taxi were the thoughts that crossed my mind. The magnet of this fallen angel’s rendition of Billy Holiday’s “These Foolish Things” had me thinking about all of the foolish things, I might do during this trip to Chicago. The feel of a business trip quickly turned into pleasure upon my arrival. The date was July 3, 2005 and I was a month away from the biggest raise of my life. I had to celebrate! As I glanced at the miniature stage, the waitress approached me with a drink and what appeared to be a business card. At the bar, sat a young lady that smiled at me as her hand toasted the air. I toasted back with a confident grin. The club reminded me of a scene from the movie Harlem Nights. The people, all dressed in vintage attire, had me feeling like I was on a 1930’s movie set. I sat the empty glass on the table. My pager went off as the new singer taking the stage played “In A Sentimental Mood” by the late great Duke Ellington. I sat back in a sofa like chair nodding my head proudly because the was originally written in my home state of North Carolina. The pager read “Meet me in Las Vegas on the 18th”. I ignored the gesture. Curiosity caused me to look back at the bar for the Nubian queen sent me this drink. I had somehow lost track of time. The bar was without a soul as I placed a twenty dollar tip on the table and headed out the door. “Taxi”, I yelled.


“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 2: Love Come Back To Me)

The bright lights on Michigan Avenue blended well with the poetic sounds of Miles Davis that played in the background, as I rode in a surprisingly clean cab. Maybe after the seminar tomorrow I will go back to “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet”, to see if I could possibly return the favor and buy this woman a drink. Better yet, a date would be more suitable since I have only 2 more days left. “Where you from?” stated the driver as a cigarette almost fell from his bushy mouth. Durham, North Carolina I said as thoughts of a romantic night with my imaginary friend coasted up and down the beaches of my brain. After small talk I ended up at the Hilton. After check-in responsibilities were satisfied, I walked down to the entertainment room to see what the commotion in the lobby was all about. As I approached the lounge area I heard Ella Fitzgerald’s “Love Come Back To Me”. Damn! The singer was none other than the young lady who got me that drink. I pulled out the business card that I paid no attention to earlier in “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet”. It was indeed her. I smiled with enthusiasm.


“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 3: A Flight Home or Back to the Bar?)

Standing in the back area I looked over a shorter couple and caught the magical eyes of Dana Williams. That is the name on the fl yer posted outside of the lounge. At that moment I forgot about my presentation in the morning for Bayer Medical Supplies. A text by my Department Manager stated that I needed to return back after Day 1 of the seminar due to an emergency audit that was abruptly scheduled. “Just my luck” were my thoughts as I frowned closing my phone with anger, wishing that I had one more day. My flight leaves around 3pm but it would be incomplete without at least one conversation with Dana. Why did she leave without speaking earlier? Should I have been more gracious and approached her at the bar? Maybe I’m just too reserved. I can’t believe this, a two day trip to the Wind City for a meeting and time is definitely not on my side. Dana’s silky voice hit a higher note as she transitioned into “My Ideal” by Sara Vaughn. The medium sized crowd applauded and screamed sounds of pleasure. She was good! I squeezed my 195 pound frame through the satisfied listeners making my way closer to the vocalist. After a 45 minute set I felt like I was back at “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” with that Chardonnay resting in my palms. “Dana Williams and your name is?” Oh, it’s Chavon. Her beauty generated sweat on the palms of my hands. “Sorry I had to leave earlier but as you can see, I had an appointment” Dana said with the best Colgate smile I'd ever seen. We sat at the end of the stage. The introduction lasted over an hour before Dana had to excuse herself. On her way to the door as people from all walks of life patted her on the back and asked for pictures, a man and 2 young kids ran to her aid. I felt like I was in first grade with a crush. I snapped a shot on my cell phone as she turned around and waved. From 30, 000 feet I could see the Chicago skyline as turbulence smacked me back to reality.



" The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" (Part 4: I use to call this place HOME)

As my Miller Lite rattled during God's argument with the heavens I thought about my Chicago experience and the incompleteness of it all. I hate plane rides. When my alarm clock bangs in about 12 hours I will be back to normalcy but this cry is far from political. Her physical stuck in my consciousness and a mental picture of "The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" kept Dana on my mind. My I-Pod played Eryka Badu's "Next Lifetime" as I read through the pages of An Abstract World written by one of my favorite literary figures Anthony Hanes. I figured that was indeed her family that greeted her after the show, after our conversation, and most of all, at a moment where I was nervous around a woman, for the first time in years. I laughed after glancing at a short story called "Vagina" as Jay-Z's song "D'Evils" off the classic album Reasonable Doubt blasted in my right ear. I had evil intentions for a married woman but I doubt she shared the same vision. She was just being friendly. Maybe she liked the hat that I rocked at "The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet" so she might had figured "Why not, I'll buy this handsome man a drink". And just think, I've been on a 2 hour flight thinking about a bunch of nothing. I landed around 5:30 pm in Raleigh, North Carolina. When I put my keys to the door I noticed a letter that had fallen to the floor. Opening it I saw that Shannon wanted a Divorce……Damn!


“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 5: What did a brother do?)

The porch is where I found solitude for the next 120 minutes as I tried to make sense of it all. Yeah, I desired a date with Dana but that was just a pipe dream. I had never cheated on my wife. Well, once while we dated in college but she forgave me for that so I thought. Where did the sudden change of heart come from? I called John to get his take on things. John was my best friend in college and a fraternity brother of mine. He had been happily married for 8 years so I figured advice from him wouldn’t be a bad idea. “She did what?” as John’s voice screamed through my cell phone. We talked for at least an hour as I glanced at the cars going by from the porch. Walking through the house, I could see a few pictures gone off the walls and needless to say, her side of the closet was empty. My soul felt empty. Having a weekend crush during a business meeting should not have warranted a divorce. Shannon couldn't have read my mind 5 States away! We haven't had a legit argument in at least 2 years. Our families get along and we were looking for a new house and thought about purchasing a timeshare. What did a brother do? I had to prepare for work in the morning. After calling Shannon cell phone, her parent’s house and her silly best friend Keisha, I fell asleep on the couch. I guess caller I.D. kept my love away. What the hell did a brother do?

“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 6: One day it will all make sense.)

During the ride to work I thought of every possible thing that could have caused Shannon to do this. Was it another man? Did someone see me in Chicago? Nah, I only sat in a hotel lounge and had a conversation with a stranger. OK, that couldn’t be it. I had not messed around on my wife so this was all crazy to me. It was a quiet day at work. I made a few sales and contacts with my contract people nationwide before logging off at 4:45 pm. I knew that my team was ready for the audit. John’s number popped on my cell phone but I declined to answer. I needed to think things over again. I called Shannon cell phone on my way to her mother’s house. I needed answers! I needed them ASAP! Knocking on the glass a strange maid opened the door and led me in to the living room area. Shannon people had money. A lot of it! As a couple, we never allowed them to help us in any way financially. Hell, I make $125k annually & Shannon makes more than that. They had always been nice to me but not on this day. Her family member’s walked pass me like I wasn’t there. I was confused! I spoke but nobody appeared interested in me. What in the world is going on? I couldn’t make sense of any of this. Her mother walked by and looked straight threw me. She loved me and had been calling me her son since my junior year at UNC. I called her Mom! Shannon walked in the living room and grabbed a glass from the coffee table directly in front of me. “Shannon, can we talk? What is going on?” were the words that poured from my soul. “It’s been 2 years Shannon and you haven’t moved on.” Said Rita, who was Shannon mother. “Mom, you have no idea how much Chavon has always meant to me.” Said Shannon as other family members walked into the living room. Donald came in with a newspaper. Donald was her older brother and we use to play basketball together but hadn’t played in at least 2 years. Donald was my dude. He was very cool and treated me with the utmost respect from day one. He was a stand-up guy just as all of her immediate family members. My family loved the Smith's. Was I dreaming all of this? Was I becoming mentally ill or having some type of psychological breakdown? I sat in the living room feeling all alone.


“The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” (Part 7: Reality is hard to swallow: The Newpaper)

Donald put the newspaper down in front of me but didn’t speak. I picked it up and it was highlighted in the obituary section. Bayer’s top seller was murdered in Chicago during business trip. Who was the top seller were my thoughts? Then it hit me, the paper was dated June 3rd 2005 and that is when I realized I was no longer in the physical. The night Dana walked out the hotel after our talk on stage, I went back to “The Jazz Club: A Place Where People Meet” to catch the late night show. I thought that Dana Williams would show up with her family. I needed one last glance. A man stopped me as I walked down the sidewalk and asked for a few bucks. That was all that I truly remembered as I sit here watching Shannon family talk about how beautiful our marriage was. I was dead. I was a murder victim. I was still sitting here hesitating to open the pearly gates and walk in. I was trying to hold on to the physical world. Shannon eyes watered as Rita hugged her gently. “Chavon, is in a better place now baby” she cried. I got up and headed to the front door knowing that this was my final goodbye. I turned around, blew a kiss to Shannon and closed the door to my marriage and connection to this world. Not knowing if I would have ever cheated during my Chicago trip, I took the hands of two angels and made my way to the Heavens. God indeed forgives.

The End

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