28
Jerome drove on a longer route avoiding the traffic-laden major roads of downtown. Jamie sat beside him quietly trying to make sense of what just happened earlier. Even though he had to wait until Jerome completed his first day at work, he was glad to at least having someone in the city he could call for help.
They drove past hotels, European-style cafes, sushi and salad bars, coffee shops and fast food restaurants that congregated on spots and corners close to corporate office buildings.
After almost an hour of driving, Jerome pulled up into their building taking one of his and Sean’s allotted spaces in the underground parking garage. The high-rise stood between two other buildings under construction. Most of the apartments were occupied and shared by young, single professionals, as these were some of the less expensive condominiums available downtown.
The apartment was on the top floor and had three bedrooms shared by Jerome, his brother Sean and their cousin Eddie. Eddie, a software developer was in Singapore for a six-month contract so Jamie could stay with them until Eddie completed the remaining three months on his contract.
Jamie immediately snuck under the covers like a snuggle-loving Yorkie and as Jerome opened the door to leave the room he spoke with a quivering voice, “Jerome,” he said in a low tone, “thank you very much.” Then he fell into a deep sleep.
Jerome went into the living room then called Sean to let him know about their guest. He could have made the call earlier in the day but knew Sean was meeting with some of his investors most of the day and didn’t want to be disturbed. Besides, he knew Sean wasn’t fussy about these types of things. Jerome could turn up one night with all of his friends wanting to stay with them and Sean wouldn't even flinch.
Jamie woke up around 9:00 p.m. He stretched on the soft cozy bed with white bedding and sat up straight. He saw his guitar near the side of the bed but couldn’t find his suitcase. Still half-asleep he thought it had all been a dream. What a terrible nightmare, he thought.
When he saw a blue bag he didn’t recognize, GQ magazines scattered on the rug and a Sony Playstation tucked under a table, it all came back to him. He wasn’t in his new room above the nightclub, he was in Jerome’s apartment. He remembered the fire and Mr. Smith. “It wasn’t a dream,” he said to himself and shook his head in amazement.
He dragged himself out of bed and walked into the living room. He recognized the show playing on TV but there was no one there watching. Then he found Jerome in the kitchen making sandwiches and listening to a jazz radio station.
“Hey you’re awake. Hope you feel better,” Jerome said passing a plate of ham sandwiches and sweet potato chips to Jamie. “I was just about to come wake you up for dinner.”
“Thanks, I feel much better,” he said yawning. “It’s all still a blur. I just can’t believe someone I was talking to this morning is gone like that.”
“But how did the fire spread so fast?”
“They think it was gas from the kitchen. The firefighters didn’t exactly respond fast enough either,” he sighed then bit into his sandwich.
“Damn, that sucks,” Jerome said. He noticed how Jamie devoured the sandwich. “I can make more sandwiches if that won’t be enough. Want some juice?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Jamie said and held the cup as Jerome poured some apple juice into it.
“No problem man. Just take it easy. I don’t have to say this but please feel at home here. Relax for a few days. Eat, sleep, play some video games.”
Jamie nodded as he took another bite of sandwich and threw some pieces of potato chips into his mouth. This was one meal they always enjoyed together in college. He downed the glass of cold apple juice and then had one more sandwich.
Afterward, they both relaxed in the living room.
“I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know if this is a sign that I’m on the wrong path. Maybe I should just go back home,” Jamie said. “You think it’s just a coincidence?”
“No, no, no. Don’t talk like that,” Jerome said shaking his forefinger at Jamie. “The fire wasn’t your fault. You can’t give up because of what happened today. If the man thought you were so good that he was going to introduce you to a big shot from a record label, dude, then I think you should hang in there ‘cause you never know what might happen.”
A wrinkle formed on Jamie’s forehead as he looked at Jerome curiously.
Jerome smiled. “You look surprised. Look I know how much you want this so even though I wish you’d have chosen a different career, I still don’t want to see you give up.”
“Thanks. I think I’ll need to get a low-skilled job first. Waiting tables, washing dishes or whatever. I lost everything in that fire. My clothes, my laptop, my favorite suitcase and...” Mr. Guerini, he thought. “But all that doesn’t even matter. A father and a son died in that fire today and that’s just sad.”
Even though he barely knew the man, the loss felt like that of a close friend. “I’m lucky I had my wallet with me. My bank card and IDs are all in it.” He still had about a hundred dollars to his name. “Luckily I had my guitar with me too.”
“You’ll be fine bro, you’ll be fine. Sean knows more about the city so he might be able to help with where you should be looking for jobs. He’ll be home soon,” Jerome said.
***
Sean burst in with the high spirits of five people combined at 9:00 p.m. “Hello ladies,” he said as he walked in on Jamie and Jerome.
His exhilaration was induced by the fact that his bar lounge-cum-art gallery was beginning to make profit after two years in the wilderness.
He didn’t have a girl with him this time but it didn’t matter, he was in a celebratory mood and as he once told his brother, he probably got more of a kick from himself than from any girl, drink or drug. He would sometimes look in the mirror, wink at his reflection and say, “It’s an honor to be you.”
His impeccable dress sense matched his charisma, although he always lied to the ladies that he got everything from Europe, one of the things he called “branding.” Most of them patronized his business often not just because of his personality but beneath all that charisma laid the same kindness embedded in the hearts of their parents.
“Don’t tell me you’re drunk again, on a Wednesday night,” Jerome said focusing on the video game he was playing with Jamie.
“Yes I’m drunk with happiness. That’s what happens when work is play little brother. You chose your career yourself so don’t blame me for always having fun at my work, man. Hate the game don’t hate the player.”
“Comparing apples to oranges. Anyways, I’ve told you many times, I enjoy what I do. Read my lips,” Jerome said turning his gaze towards his brother, “I ENJOY what I do.”
“Yeah whatever, you can sit in front of a computer all your life for all I care,” Sean said then turned towards Jamie. “What’s up Jamie? I don’t think I’ve seen you since you guys were in your third year?” He looked at Jerome to confirm he was right about his timing.
“I think it’s been longer than that,” Jamie said offering Sean a handshake. “How are things going with you?”
“Good, good,” Sean said taking his hand. “I could almost swear I saw you in the beginning of your third year though.”
“Sean you only came to visit in my first year. That’s four years ago,” Jerome said.
“Oh, sorry. My bad. Too busy to keep track of time.”
For the next few hours, the continuous back and forth sibling banter lightened up Jamie’s mood. Watching them was so entertaining he wondered what it would have been like having a brother or sister. When things suddenly became quiet, Jamie looked over at Sean and smiled at how one minute he talked nonstop and then suddenly he shut down like a factory machine at the end of an afternoon shift.
After completing another round of Army of Two: The Fortieth Day, Jamie dropped the game control pad on the couch and said to Jerome, “Can I use your laptop? I need to check my email.”
“Sure, it’s rig
ht there. I think I’m gonna hit the sack in a minute,” Jerome said then hit his brother’s leg on his way to the bathroom.
Jamie took the grey laptop, opened it and sat back on the couch. He stretched his neck and massaged it, still feeling pain that may have been caused by sleeping on the pillow in Eddie’s room. His neck never quite took to pillows but he had been too distraught to think straight and just crashed without moving the pillow away.
He opened his gmail account and was disappointed there was nothing from any of the people he emailed in South Korea. He scratched his head wondering how one could find someone without knowing their last name. Then he checked his JazzChat inbox.
JazzChat Inbox
Date: 12-12-2010
From: JazzyTee75
To: BoyFromElm
Hello Jamie,
I hope you are enjoying your time in Allen City. Would you like to come over for lunch on Saturday? My address is 3260 Ridgewood Avenue, Blue Oyster Island, Allen City.
Regards,
JazzyTee75
29
“You are sure this guy is a professor.” Jerome asked again, trying to figure out how an academic could afford a room at Blue Oyster Island talk more of a whole house. It was almost noon on Saturday but it would only take them twenty minutes to get there.
“If only you had taken that class like I advised,” Jamie said shaking his head. “He’s the best music teacher I have ever met.”
“But it’s Blue Oyster Island we are talking about here.”
“Well, maybe his parents are rich. Or he got a really good rental out there.”
“Rental? I don’t think you understand,” Jerome said as he started the car. “People don’t rent homes in those kinds of places. Don’t worry, when we get there, you’ll get it.”
Overtaking a couple of cars, Jerome slid into the right lane and took the ramp that led to the Blue Oyster Bridge. The last time he went there was to visit one of Sean’s very rich friends.
They were both sharing ideas about how Jamie could find Ji-Min when Jerome noticed Jamie had become quiet. He waited a while so Jamie could take it all in then said “You see what I mean? You have to be really loaded to live here.”
“You were right, I wasn't expecting anything close to this,” Jamie admitted.
The picturesque houses sat on acres of land with perfect blends of modern finishes and traditional features. They passed a golf course and a property that Jerome said was an exclusive private club for the residents.
“Umm, just let me check the address again to make sure,” Jamie said jokingly and they both laughed. Jerome was happy Jamie could still have a sense of humor despite all he was going through. He didn't think it was wrong to lighten things up in grim situations. In his opinion, cracking jokes in difficult periods of life could even be helpful.
Jerome turned the car and drove through the gate of No. 360. He drove towards the building and parked under the porte cochère.
Jamie called with Jerome’s phone and was asked to come in.
“I’ll pick you up at four,” Jerome said.
“Sounds good to me. Thanks buddy.”
A man opened the door and led Jamie through the glistening foyer, into a reception room. Jamie sat down and studied the details of the room. The place oozed of elegance and warmth but it felt like those attributes were only residues of things past, of someone past. On the wall was a picture of a young Robert E. Benson. So it’s really JazzyTee’s house. Jamie thought.
“There you are.” JazzyTee said, standing by the door. He looked immaculate in his white shirt, white shorts and white leather slippers.
“Hello Dr. Tesla.”
“No way, after all those emails? It sounds a bit odd now don’t you think? Let’s stick to JazzyTee,” he said and gestured for Jamie to follow him. “Come let me show you around the house.”
“I didn't see your car from upstairs. Did you take a taxi here?” he said, leading Jamie through the backdoor where they came upon a Jacuzzi and saw an older man cleaning the swimming pool. JazzyTee waved at him and the man nodded in reply.
“A friend of mine dropped me off. He’s coming back to get me at four,” Jamie answered.
“Oh good. Friends. That’s something I haven’t had in years,” then he looked at Jamie smiling. “Except you of course. There were weeks I didn't have any avenue for sharing my thoughts besides our email correspondence.”
“Oh,” was all Jamie could muster but his smile compensated. He was taken around the rest of the house and kept seeing pictures of Robert E. Benson almost everywhere. There was even one of the man, his wife and his daughter. Jamie quickly realized JazzyTee was even more obsessed with the late icon than he could have imagined.
When they sat to have lunch, Jamie wondered where the food was but played along as JazzyTee discussed the present state of Jazz in America and the world at large. He thought that Jazz could still go through changes and had the potential to give birth to even many more genres.
After Jamie recovered from the surprise of being served food by an English butler who directed the housekeepers, he couldn't keep a lid on his burning question any longer.
“I hope you won’t mind but I have to ask this one question,” he said looking over at JazzyTee inquisitively. “How are you able to afford all this?”
JazzyTee smiled, inhaled the aroma of his red wine and said “I would have been surprised if you hadn't asked. Don’t worry, we’ll talk about it later. First I need to know how things are going at the new nightclub where you work.”
Jamie’s shoulders immediately slumped and his head hung low. He placed his fork at the tip of the plate. It was as if the remembrance of what happened earlier in the week reminded him of how pathetic his life was. He told JazzyTee about Mr. Smith and the fire.
“Oh my, I know that nightclub. Such a pleasant man. They must have covered it on the news but I haven’t been watching TV.”
“I guess he was really well known around here.”
“I think so,” JazzyTee said looking up, as though he was trying to access his memory. “I think my father had some dealings with him in the past.”
“Very sad,” Jamie said wondering what JazzyTee’s father did for a living but decided it might be too intrusive.
Seeing the sadness on Jamie’s face when he talked about the fire incident, JazzyTee quickly changed the topic. They enjoyed the rest of their lunch and talked about music, women, history and more music. He also gave Jamie a brief history of Blue Oyster Island. How it had grown after the Second World War from a rural area to a suburb.
“Thank you so much,” Jamie said as the butler brought their desserts.
“What are we having this time?” JazzyTee said with a childlike delight written all over his face. Jamie could tell they served him all kinds of desserts every week.
“We tried to re-create the Taiwanese mango avalanche,” the butler said in crisp Queen’s English.
“I don’t even know what that is,” JazzyTee said then tasted it. “But it tastes wonderful though...mmh”
“Its shaved ice on fresh cuts of mango, mango pudding and sorbet,” the butler continued. He asked if they needed anything else then left to join the others in the kitchen.
“I retained most of the domestic staff because they had been with my father for years and this is more of their home than it is mine. Besides who wants to live alone here.”
“They must be really grateful,” Jamie said as he scraped the rest of his dessert.
When they finished gorging themselves on the dessert, JazzyTee got up and led Jamie to his study. As soon as they entered, Jamie saw JazzyTee staring at a picture on the wall and noticed he was trying hard to stifle his sobs. Then suddenly, tears slid down the professor’s face.
“Are you alright?” Jamie said feeling very awkward.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” JazzyTee said wiping his face with the back of his hand. “Please take a look at that picture.”
Jamie placed a finger on his
chin then moved closer to the picture frame hanging on the wall beside the brown bookshelf. His eyes widened as he recognized the little boy in the picture. “Is that...is that you beside Benson?”
“Yes that’s me.”
“Is he...” He could now see the resemblance.
“He’s my father Jamie. Robert E. Benson was my father,” JazzyTee said sinking into a chair.
“Wow, I had no idea. My goodness. You are Robert E. Benson’s son?”
JazzyTee nodded then asked Jamie to sit down in the opposite chair. “He had one daughter with his wife but after they separated briefly, he fell in love with my mother. They were together for three months but had to end their relationship because his wife decided to go back on her decision to have a divorce. My Mom found out she was pregnant a month later but never contacted my father because she was angry he left her for his wife without hesitation. She never told him about me.”
Jamie was stunned. Robert E. Benson was JazzyTee’s father? There was nothing that could have prepared him for this. There was no clue that could have given him a hint.
“Just before my mother died of cancer, she told me who my father was. I contacted him and he found me. He couldn't believe it when he saw me. The next thing was how and when he would tell his wife. He kept coming to see me and we developed a father-son relationship but he still wouldn't tell his wife and my sister about me. After a year of going back and forth, I told him I couldn't keep up with being a secret love-child. I demanded that he should inform his wife or forget he had a son but he still couldn't bring himself to tell her. He said he needed time. I stopped talking to him and never did till he died. I’m sure you know how he died.”
“Yes a car accident with his wife.”
“Yup, in his Will, he left everything to me and my sister who I didn’t meet until the day the Will was read,” he said. “Anyway, you know when someone you love actually dies, you wonder if anything they ever did to offend you was worth not talking to them for years. I’d rather be his secret love-child right now than not having him in my life at all.”
An Autumn to Remember: A Novel (Elmtown Series Book 1) Page 20