The posters on his wall were a reflection of not only Jamie’s music tastes but his parent’s also. He covered his room with one of each of their favorites: Ella Fitgerald, Billy Holiday, Louis Armstrong, Frank Sinatra and Tony Bennet.
However in Jamie’s opinion, the greatest jazz artist who ever lived was Robert E. Benson whose book, The Jazz of Life, he was presently reading and discussing with his music teacher-turned-friend and life-mentor, JazzyTee.
It was Jamie’s father who kindled his interest in jazz, its history, and how it related to life by telling him little intriguing stories that fascinated him every night at bedtime such as how it had started in New Orleans and how at first people didn’t seem enthusiastic about it. He told him about the Dixieland bands and how jazz migrated from New Orleans to Chicago and then New York City.
Jamie especially loved the one about Louis Armstrong’s arrival at Chicago’s 12th Street station. How Armstrong felt he had made a mistake because his mentor didn’t met him at the station and wanted to go back to New Orleans. Armstrong had never seen a big city before and thought the tall buildings were universities.
Those stories created pictures in his mind and made Jamie long for his own adventure. One day when he grew up, he thought, he would also travel to a different city and become famous, just like Louis Armstrong and Robert E. Benson.
The music, dappled with Sinatra’s voice, soared and swirled around the room as Jamie lay on his bed. It was one of his father’s favorite records and it was this song that was playing the day when they received the call. Fifteen years had passed. People say you get over it with time, but it had now been fifteen years. Not that it still affected him in any serious psychological way, at least the hallucinations had stopped since he was eleven, but the pain was forever tattooed on his heart and it left a hole in his life.
Sometimes he wondered if people who say time will heal everything knew what it was like for a fatherless child to watch other people’s fathers cheering them on at baseball games and other school activities. To hear over and over what advice their fathers gave them about life, sports, education, girls and romance. To hear a friend talk about the camping trip he went with his father during the summer. To stay there in front of your friend and smile as you hear how they went fishing together with their father while inside you are hurting and longing for what you could never have. To face the world alone while you try to figure out what being a man was really all about.
Even when they complained about how their fathers got on their nerves, all he could think was how he would give anything to have his father get on his nerves.
He slipped his hand into the pocket of the brown pants on his bed, brought out his phone, plugged the charger into an outlet and connected it with the phone. He placed it on the table and waited for it to come on.
Five missed calls.
The phone was on silent mode and must have died from vibration.
What was Chelsea calling him that late for? Is she all right? he wondered. He wondered if she needed something from him and contemplated calling her back but then decided against it. What if she was sleeping? He thought it would seem ungentlemanly to wake her up from sleep at that time of the night, but the last missed call was just half an hour ago. That was enough time for someone to have gone back to bed. He went back and forth in his thoughts. If she was still awake, maybe she would have tried calling again.
Arrgh! If only I was on a phone plan that had voicemail at least she would have left a message and I wouldn’t be here overthinking what the issue is. Gosh I’d love to hear her voice on the phone though, he thought to himself.
She didn’t send a text so he thought maybe she didn’t like text messages like she didn’t like emailing.
Anyways, it’s fine, I’ll call her in the morning, he thought.
Ten minutes later, he was in the living room, by the home phone, dialing her number.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Jamie. I saw your missed calls. I hope I didn’t wake you up or anything like that.”
“No I was still awake,” she said. Her voice immediately melted his heart. “I couldn’t sleep and I was looking for someone to bug.” She spoke in a low tone as though she found talking to him relaxing already and Jamie imagined she was lying in bed. Something about that thought made her voice sound even more sensual.
“You still find it hard to sleep like you used to?”
“You remember,” she said and then giggled.
“Nobody could forget that sort of thing. Especially if you are the one who was always being called late at night. You basically turned me into a nocturnal monster.”
“I know. And I would make you stay on the phone until I slept off. Ha ha ha, that was so evil, I love it,” she said.
“Yes and if I made the mistake of saying bye too early, you’d wake up and tell me not to get off the phone. I had to wait for about ten minutes just to make sure you were really asleep. It was simple–you don’t sleep, I don’t sleep.”
She laughed hard and protested she hadn’t been that bad.
Then they talked for about an hour mostly about memories they shared. She remembered random things like the Summer Ribs Carnival of 1999 where they were playing on the trampoline. Jamie had gotten into trouble for pushing Luke Clinton off of it, the bully who made the no-girls rule. Chelsea was the only girl who wanted to do everything the boys were interested in and as usual Jamie wasn’t going to allow anybody to push her around just because she was a girl.
“My mom was so mad that day. Do you remember Edgar Josephs?” he asked.
He waited for a response but all he heard was the most beautiful snuffling noise he’d ever heard. He listened to her breathe for minutes that seemed like an eternity and when she began to snore, he smiled and put the phone down. The only word that came into his mind was “delicious.”
When he got back into his room, he laid his back on his bed and closed his eyes reminiscing about their whole conversation. Talking to her was like a sweet release from his present troubles.
He wanted to know more about her though, all they talked about were things he already knew, shared memories. What was she like growing up into an adult in England? What type of music did she like now? Was she in love with her boyfriend? He wished he could know even the mundane things of her life.
Jamie then opened his laptop and logged into his JazzChat inbox through an unprotected wifi he found months before. JazzyTee75 had replied his last email.
JazzChat Inbox
Date: 09-10-2010
From: JazzyTee75
To: BoyFromElm
Hello Jamie,
I’m sorry this is coming late. I’ve been a bit busy since the dog died. It occurred to me that it would be better to keep myself busy so I don’t think about it too much, the house feels a bit empty now.
Anyway, so I wanted to inform you that my ex-wife finally agreed to let me have full custody of our daughter from Christmas. I know what you are thinking, after all that fighting, she finally succumbs. I know right. I guess she realized the effect it would have on Emily to live with an alcoholic parent.
It’s kind of exciting for me that my daughter will be back in the states, but on the other hand, I’m a little nervous about being a single parent. I’ve been overthinking details that I shouldn’t even be worrying about. Like yesterday, I freaked out at the idea of not knowing what to do when she experiences her first menstruation. She’s only five by the way.
Enough about me already. Now to answer your question about the ending of chapter six of A Life of Jazz. For me, I believe what Benson means by that phrase is that life (like jazz) goes through changes we always have to adapt to. It’s like this continuous evolution of death and resurrection. One thing dies, another comes alive. People die, people are born. One opportunity closes, another opportunity opens. I think if we can have this attitude, a lot less people will be depressed in our wonderful world. We’ll just see change as a normal part of life.
I
’m not saying this is easy to do, far from it. As I sit here typing this email, I don’t know if anything positive was born as a result of my divorce nor has anything replaced the hole that particular loss has created in my life. I will however maintain a positive attitude and hope that the best is yet to come in my life. I’ve always thought having a positive attitude can never make a situation any worse than it already is :). At least I have my daughter from the said failed marriage and there is nothing I have that is worth more to me than that little girl so maybe that’s the positive I need to focus on.
I wish you the best. Let me know what your thoughts are when you get a chance to write. Have you increased your daily vocal training hours?
Regards,
JazzyTee75
Jamie clicked reply and poured his thoughts into the keyboard.
JazzChat Inbox
Date: 09-10-2010
From: BoyFromElm
To: JazzyTee75
Hello JazzyTee,
You don’t have to be sorry at all. Please feel free to reply when you have enough time to do so. I am in fact grateful for how you’ve been a source of inspiration, encouragement and wisdom over the years. Actually, yesterday an interesting thought came to me. You are the only father figure I have ever had since my dad died, and for that I’m thankful.
I’m happy to hear about your daughter. I hope she’ll have a great time growing up in America.
I have been thinking about the cycle of life and death a lot more and I agree that the evolution of jazz music is a great example. I guess I should hope that if we eventually lose this house, something else will come alive for myself and my mother. Maybe it will lead us to something even better. To be honest though, it’s really hard to think like that right now, but I’ll try.
OK, enough of the gloomy stuff.
Do you remember my friend Chelsea? The one who moved to England many years ago? Well, she’s back in Elmtown. They decided to move back and she’s now studying at MVU’s graduate school. It was so good to see her. I didn’t realize how much I missed her. She looked so pretty and still has the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. I caught myself checking her out a little; actually it wasn’t that little, I was looking at her a lot :).
Do you think it’s weird to be attracted to one’s friend?
Actually I don’t know why I am asking this question having discovered that she is presently attached, but I’d just love to know what you think about it. Were you friends with your wife before you got married? I’ve heard some girls say they would never date their best male friend because it’s weird.
Talk to you soon,
Thanks,
Jamie
He closed the lid of the laptop, laid down and closed his eyes. As he slept, he dreamt about the night someone called to tell them about his father’s demise. A tear found its way out of his left eye and rolled down the side of his face towards his ear.
5
Jamie walked up towards the front door breathing in the nostalgia that filled the air. There were purple coneflowers, sunflowers, baptisias and asters giving the house lush, colourful curb appeal and a carefully trained virginia creeper covered parts of the house like drapes from mother nature. He and Chelsea both used to help her mom water the flowers on Saturdays and then would go watch old DVDs in her father’s library, overcoming mountains of homemade popcorn in the process. Sometimes he would watch football while she read her mom’s cosmopolitan magazine or romance novels, quickly hiding them when she walked in on them. They found in each other the sibling friendship that they always longed for. Jamie was an only child and Chelsea’s brother Tyler was seven years younger, so it had been a mutually satisfying friendship.
As Jamie got to the door, he dropped all his thoughts about the mortgage situation on the floor–thinking too much about what was happening to him and his mother wouldn’t make him a fun visitor. He quickly fetched a smile and wore it. It surprised him that he could put his worries aside so quickly and knew it was because of how much he cared for Chelsea. Everything else became a shadow in her light. As he was about to press the bell, the door flung open without warning.
“Hey you.”
A beautiful face appeared followed by a beautiful body. The face was the same but her body had gone through some very interesting physiological changes. Jamie quickly stopped himself from staring too much but it was hard to ignore her beautiful curves. She wore rolled up denim shorts with a pink off-shoulder top that revealed smooth shoulders.
“Hey you,” he said back, hoping she couldn’t hear the heavy, quick beats of his heart or notice the sudden moistness on his forehead.
“I saw you from upstairs. You still have that funny walk,” Chelsea said and gave him a hug.
“What walk?” he asked. Following her into the house, he closed the door gently behind him.
“Your semi-John Wayne, semi-Denzel Washington walk. I thought that was just a high school thing.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
They both laughed.
“Let’s go upstairs to my room. My mom is having some friends over so I’d rather we hang out upstairs.” She pulled his arm and turned towards the stairs.
In the past, Jamie had been inside her room many times, mostly with other friends around. They would listen to music there, play games, eat pizza, or he would play a song on his guitar while they all listened. They hung out alone in her room a few times too, but he couldn’t deny it felt kind of awkward this time. They were older now and he was really attracted to her. He figured it would be all right, they were just friends and besides, she had a boyfriend so why was he thinking all these thoughts anyway?
She opened the door to her room and he followed her in.
“Amy this is Jamie. Jamie this is my friend Amy. We met during her exchange program at the University of London–she got into MVU’s Business School this summer.”
“Hi Jamie. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Amy said placing the magazine that rested on her chest on the bed. She stood up and shook his hand. Sweeping across her forehead were brunette sideswept bangs that she had cut recently. Although she looked ordinary, she made up for it with a high sense of fashion, and although her face was forgettable, her personality was not.
“Hi Amy,” Jamie said wondering what she might have heard about him from Chelsea. The thought of Chelsea talking about him felt pleasing. He looked around the room, turned to Chelsea and said, “I see things haven’t changed much, you’re still as tidy as ever.”
Chelsea laughed then clenched her fist like she was about to hit Jamie. He used to tease her about how her room was always untidy.
Amy chuckled but then couldn’t help laughing at Jamie’s sarcasm. “She sure is tidy,” she said.
“Laugh at me all you want woman but it’s not like you’re better than me, I’ve seen what your apartment looks like you know,” Chelsea said rolling her eyes at Amy.
There were pants and tops on the cream carpet and four pairs of jeans by the bed. They were all victims of her early morning tantrum rummaging through heaps of clothes in various suitcases, trying to find what she would wear for the day. There were still boxes everywhere, it had been five days and she still hadn’t unpacked much; she was literally living out of her suitcases.
“C’mon we just moved in here, it’s not that easy to take care of all this stuff while I’m getting to grips with graduate school. Besides, being tidy is overrated,” she said picking up the pieces and dumping them into a basket in a corner of the room.
“Well, I’ve always told you it’s a good thing you’re dating a rich guy. Your future domestic needs will be easily outsourced,” Amy said turning the page of an old Glamour magazine she found in Chelsea’s room.
Jamie had already settled into the chair by the reading table.
Chelsea threw a pillow at Amy and said, “And I have also told you a million times, he’s just an MBA student at MVU like you. Why can’t you get that into your big greedy head? Your parents’ mo
ney is not yours. You seem not to appreciate that concept.”
“Errr...when someone is the only child of a billionaire, I’m pretty sure they are rich. He’s a sole heir which means he gets everything. He’s obviously just doing an MBA just so he can learn how to manage all that money.” I guess some people don’t know what they have, she thought.
“Amy shoosh, you talk too much. Doesn’t that thing that goes off in people’s heads go off in yours?” Chelsea asked as she moved a box into a corner near Jamie. “You know that thing that warns people something is inappropriate, yours doesn’t work anymore?” She gesticulated with her hand.
“Don’t shoosh me. You did say Jamie’s like a brother to you didn’t you? I’m sure it’s OK, he doesn’t mind. In fact, Jamie what do you think? If your father was a billionaire, wouldn’t that mean you’re rich too?”
“I guess it would…” Jamie said.
“See, there’s someone with some sense. Mrs. I’m-not-a-gold-digger goody-two-shoes here is always trying to deny the fact that she’s dating a very rich young man who is going to take very good care of her. Like we all don’t like some security,” she said as she batted her eyelashes.
“Amy, I’m gonna throw you outta that window if you don’t shut your big mouth.”
“I dare ya.” She stuck out her tongue at Chelsea.
“Oh whatever, can you just shut up? You’re boring the life out of Jamie already. Say something intelligent. Right Jamie?” she asked nodding and looking at him for approval.
“Oh no, its OK. I’m not bored at all. She’s entertaining,” Jamie said still amused at how chatty Amy was–the girl talked faster than an African Grey Parrot. Sometimes he couldn’t even make sense of some of the words in her sentences.
An Autumn to Remember: A Novel (Elmtown Series Book 1) Page 3