Andrew Price - Without A Hitch

“When was the last time you played?”

“Last night.”

“ After you went home from the club?”

“Yes.”

“So, if we went to your place right now, you could play something for me?”

“Yes,” she said softly, looking away from Corbin for the first time.

“What did you play last night?”

“The piece you opened with,” she replied cautiously.

Corbin stared at her in silence, as she watched some children throwing a frisbee back and forth. “Girl, you are making me fall hard.”

“I guess we have something in common.”

Corbin played Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Fridays were generally the busiest, but Tuesdays and Sundays were catching up. Today was Friday, and the club was packed. In fact, the audience had grown so much lately Blue needed to buy more chairs to accommodate them, though the extra money he made from drink sales more than offset this new expense. The extra money also allowed Blue to fix up the place. Gone were the burned-up lights that made everything brown. In their place, he’d put silvery lights that shone indirectly off the cherry wood paneling on the walls. This highlighted the accents in the wood, rather than casting them in shadow as the browning lights had done, and made the bar feel a bit like an ancient library, though the crowd noise and the ever-present smell of fried foods reminded people of the room’s true purpose. Blue also replaced the glaring white stage lights with softer, golden lights which gave everything on stage a dreamlike quality.

Corbin made his way to the bar, where Penny and Blue were talking. Corbin walked up behind Penny and kissed her on the back of the neck. Without turning around, Penny swatted him away. A huge grin lit her face.

“Not now, my boyfriend’s going to arrive any minute.” Penny laughed and turned to hug Corbin tightly.

“What you playin’ tonight?” Blue asked Corbin.

“I’ve got something special planned, Blue.”

“Are you finally playing the piece?” Penny asked, releasing Corbin.

“That’s the one,” Corbin said.

Penny clasped her hands. “I’m so excited! Blue, I’ve been dying to hear this piece, ever since Alex mentioned it. He wrote it himself, and the little I’ve heard is incredible, but he won’t let me hear the whole thing. He keeps telling me ‘it’s not ready yet’,” she said trying to mimic Corbin’s deeper voice.

Corbin backed away from the bar, toward the stage. “You’ll still be here when I get back, right?”

“I can’t make any promises,” she said, closing her eyes and blowing Corbin a kiss.

This was the first piece of music Corbin ever wrote. It was an incredibly complex piece, but years of practice let him play it perfectly. Indeed, he’d played it thousands of times, just not for anyone else. It was also a deeply emotional piece. In fact, it captured his emotions perfectly because every time he played it to himself, he refined it depending on his mood. He worked on the sad parts when he felt sad and the uplifting parts when he felt happy. It was his release. He recorded each of his triumphs, his failures, his hopes, his dreams and his dreads in this single piece of music, and he’d captured his own emotions so well that sometimes he could make himself laugh or tear up just by playing certain sections. And when he hit one of those moments, where he felt a genuine emotional response, he would study it and use that raw emotion to refine the rest. Slowly but surely he recreated his soul in musical form. This was what he played that warm September night, and no audience at the Bluetone ever cheered so loud. Some cried, some laughed, and some just felt themselves swept away.

When he finished, Corbin made his way back to the bar. As he walked through the still-entranced crowd, several people thanked him and shook his hand. Others stood and applauded.

Penny slid off the barstool as Corbin approached. She’d obviously been crying, as her mascara had run. Now she looked at Corbin with such admiration that it startled him; her face held the same expression as a child’s when they meet their hero.

“That was amazing,” she shouted over the din of the frenetic crowd. She wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could.

“Thanks!”

Two more patrons patted Corbin on the back.

Penny loosened her grip and leaned back in his arms so she could look up into his face. More tears appeared in her eyes. “God, I could almost feel what you were feeling when you were playing. The whole room just vanished. It was like I was alone with you. It was surreal.” She hugged him again.

Blue joined them after making change for a customer. He smiled broadly. “I can’t believe you waited to play that! People started coming up before you finished. They said, ‘do you have a recording.’ I told ’em ‘no, not yet.’ They told me, ‘can we sign up to get one.’ You got to record that!”

“Did you like it?”

“Did I like it?!” Blue exclaimed. He let out a belly laugh. “I ain’t cried at a piece of music in ten years. I cried tonight. You got to record it! You got to put it out there for the world to hear. You ain’t got no right to keep that music to yourself.”

“Thanks Blue, I mean that.”

Penny continued staring at Corbin. Her pupils were huge and she bit her lip. She ignored everyone else in the bar.

Corbin looked at her and smiled. “What?”

She didn’t answer. She just hugged him again.

The weather turned cooler again. It wasn’t cold enough yet for winter coats, but it was cooler than normal for October in the Washington, D.C. area. Consequently, Molly’s skirts were getting longer and pants returned to her wardrobe. Today she wore a wool pinstriped pantsuit. The wide collar on her white dress shirt spread out over the lapels of the navy suit. Shoe Guy’s silver necklace still hung prominently around her neck.

Molly’s officemate was out on maternity leave. This left Corbin as one of the few people in the office to whom she liked to talk. Hence, she spent a lot of time in his office. As usual, she sat on his desk with her feet on the extra chair.

“I am sooooo bored. Entertain me,” she pleaded.

Corbin shrugged his shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Juggle. . do a magic trick. Tell me a story.”

“What kind of story?”

“Tell me what you and Beckett were up to before he left? I’m sure the statute of limitations has run out on whatever crime it was.” Molly never let up on her suspicions about June 14th and she occasionally tried to trick Corbin into giving up details of what he and Beckett had done. This comment, however, was not a serious attempt.

Corbin didn’t respond.

“Ever hear from Beckett?” she asked.

Corbin shook his head.

“Strange little man.” Molly wrinkled her nose and smirked. “What do you think his wife is like? I’ll bet she’s a retired hooker or a mail-order bride.”

“As far as I know, they’re a normal, happy, loving couple of twenty-some years.”

“If they’re happy and loving after twenty years, then they’re not normal.” Molly began picking at one of her nails. “Heard anything about T’s new boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Me neither. She’s not talking to anybody about him.”

“I couldn’t help but notice your feud has died down.”

This time Molly shrugged her shoulders.

“How goes the plan to get rid of Carl?” Carl was the new guy’s real name, though Molly still called him “new guy” to his face and an assortment of nasty names behind his back.

She frowned. “The plan hit a snag.”

“I hear they’re repainting the office,” Corbin said. This was true. They were changing the dingy white walls and beige moldings to off-white walls and dark-beige moldings.