"Yeah, I guess, if everybody's leaving," I said.
We all said goodbye to each other, and within a minute, we were headed toward the front of the building. My heart was pounding with the irrational thought that I would never see this guy again.
"Oh, no, I hope it didn't fall out when I put my hair up!" I said, reaching up to poke and prod my own hair as if feeling around for something. "My favorite hairpin," I continued sadly. I didn't have a favorite hairpin, but I stopped walking and continued to feel around my ponytail as if really concerned.
At first, Alice looked at me like I was insane, but she still went along with it. "I'll go with you to look for it," she said.
I glanced back at Michael who had just stepped over his motorcycle, and was now standing with his legs on each side of it. I took Alice by the hand. "You guys go ahead," I said to the guys. "We'll catch up with you."
Chapter 5
"What are you doing, Ivy?" Alice whispered as we walked.
I continued feeling around in my ponytail. "I think it fell out over here," I said, continuing the charade since I knew Michael had caught sight of me coming toward him. A couple of the other waiters had come outside and were now standing next to him, looking as though they were all about to leave.
Michael sat on his motorcycle, grinning at me casually as I walked up. "Did you forget something?" he asked. I wanted to say that it was a hug I had forgotten and run into his arms, but that obviously wouldn't do.
"My favorite hairpin," I said. I hated lying. Maybe it was growing up a preacher's kid, but I was opposed to lying right down to my very core. It was for this reason that when I was lying I spoke in incomplete sentences.
"You're looking for a hairpin?" Michael asked.
I answered with, "I don't think I'll be able to find it," in an effort to avoid lying. I stared at the ground near the place where I had been standing, and the next thing I knew, Michael turned the front end of the bike and switched on the headlight, causing an oblong-shaped row of light to hit the ground near my feet. I realized it looked like I had just been hit with a spotlight, so I instinctually smiled and did about two seconds of a popular dance called The Twist. I stopped dancing just as quickly as I started, but I knew he had seen me. I grinned as I continued to stare downward, looking for the nonexistent hairpin. I glanced at Alice who gave me a wide-eyed smile. I heard the noise of shifting gravel, and I looked up to find that Michael was getting off of his motorcycle.
"Ivy Lewis," he said, closing the distance between us.
"Michael Bishop," I returned.
"You came back to look for a hairpin," he said as more of a statement than a question.
The other waiters came closer to help me look, which caused their shadows to block the light. "I think it was over here," Alice said, redirecting them. She had, thank goodness, caught on to the fact that I might want to say a couple of words to Michael and was helping me out.
"I really liked that song," he said.
He must have known I wasn't really there to look for a hairpin, because he didn't even bother looking down.
"When can I hear you play again?"
"At church tomorrow," I said. I realized after it came out of my mouth that he probably wouldn't be interested in going to church. "Or at Jim-bo's," I added quickly but reluctantly. I wanted to distract him from my church-y first suggestion, but I wasn't quite sure about recommending Jim-bo's. I had never been there before, and I wasn't quite sure what I was in for. I hated to go inviting people to come with me when I had never been, but I also hated to not tell Michael where I was going.
"I've been out to Jim-bo's before," he said in a low tone that was meant for only me to hear. "It's neat. Are you going to play the piano out there?"
I shrugged and gave him an uncertain nod. "I have a friend from Nashville who's working over there now. He said I could sit in on a few songs if I came out."
"When? Tonight?"
I nodded, and Michael smiled.
"Good," he said.
We held eye contact for a few long seconds before I reluctantly broke it to look at the ground. I stooped over and pretended to pick up a hairpin before standing and fake-tucking it into my ponytail.
"Got it," I said with a smile aimed at Michael.
He grinned back at me as if he could see right through my act.
"I guess I'll see you later tonight, Ivy Lewis." Michael said.
The others quickly came over to where we were standing. I wanted to say something cool or clever, but everyone was standing right next to us before I knew it, so I just smiled.
"Okay, so I found it," I said. I patted the back of my head as if to indicate that my favorite hairpin was now securely in place, and Alice and I said a second goodbye to the guys before taking off in a hurry toward the front of the building.
We ended up stopping by Van's.
Stephen had a really nice Pontiac, and I sat in the front seat with him while my brother sat in the back with Alice and Bobby. Van's had a dining room as well, but we parked under the awning to order from the drive-in. Stephen ordered five milkshakes, and we all sipped on them even though we already had dessert. We saw some people we knew, (which was the whole point of going) and we stayed at Van's for about a half-hour before Stephen brought us back to my house.
Jim-bo's was on the other side of Memphis, down some dirt roads. I knew it would take a while to get there, so I was anxious to get going. I couldn't stop wondering if I would see Michael Bishop there, and I felt giddy at the thought of it.
Alice and I changed clothes when we got to my house. I wore a more casual summer dress—one with a floral print that was blue with little pink roses. It was one of my favorite dresses because it was frilly but casual and it fit perfectly and let me move around on my piano bench. It was sleeveless, so I put a sweater on for my dad's sake. I also wore a pair of white flats that were comfortable and perfect for dancing. I tightened and adjusted my ponytail. I had been out dancing enough to know that my main fashion priority was to be cool and comfortable. This was one of my favorite dancing outfits because it achieved both of those things, and I still thought it looked good on me.
"That dress looks fab on you," Alice said a few minutes later when I came into the living room.
My dad was sitting at the kitchen table, and he glanced up at me with his eyebrows drawn together. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"To hear some music," I said. "A little live music. They have gospel and everything. I already talked to Mom about it."
My dad looked around the room, searching for my mom to confirm my story, but she had gone to take a bath. Jacob was sitting on the couch when Dad glanced his way, and Jacob nodded since he had been there when I told Mom about my plans.
"I hope there's no drinking at this place," Dad said.
I scoffed as if I was totally offended by the accusation. "Dad, no, goodness, no."
The truth was I had no idea whether or not the place was serving alcohol. I had been dancing lots of times, and some of the places served alcohol and some didn't. Didn't really matter to me because I never went for the refreshments, anyway. I strictly went for the music.
"Did your mother write down the name of the place in case we need to reach you?"
"I think so," I said.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Not all night or anything," I said. I moved slowly toward the door while I spoke, pulling Alice along with me.
My dad took off his glasses and regarded me with an impassive stare. "I need a more specific answer than that, young lady. I don't care how old you are. While you're here under this roof, you will abide by my rules. We have Church in the morning and I don't want to be up all night worrying about you."
"I promise we won't be gone all night. I'll be home by midnight. How's that?"
He gave me a disapproving stare.
"Eleven-thirty?" I asked, wincing.
He sighed. "No later than that—and no drinking. No trouble, Ivy. I mean it."
&nbs
p; "Yes sir," I said that not only because it was true but also because it was his favorite answer.
He smiled. "You played well tonight, sweetheart. I always love it when you play that song."
"Thank you," I said.
"I'm looking forward to hearing you play again in the morning," he added, reminding me that I had responsibilities.
I smiled. "Eleven-thirty," I said.
"You girls be careful," he said. "Stay in a big group with your friends, and remember, your car keys can be used as a weapon. Do you have gas in your car, Alice?"
"Yes sir," she said. "My brother filled it up before he brought it over here."
I knew my dad could have asked us questions all night, so I continued the forward momentum, pulling Alice out of the door.
"Love you Dad! Love you Jacob! Tell Mom I said, 'love you and goodnight'."
"Be careful, sweetheart, love you," My dad called as I let the door close behind me.
***
"We only have like two hours," Alice said as we walked up to Jim-bo's a little while later. She was nervous; I could hear it in her voice. Honestly, I was a little nervous, too. Jim-bo's had the appearance of a shack. It was a white, wooden house-type structure, but it had been patched with different types of building materials like scrap plywood, metal roofing, and even some street signs. It was a hunk of rust and wood, and even from the outside, we could hear the muffled pulsing of the rhythm and blues music that was going on inside.
There was a screened-in front porch across the front. It was dark, but it looked like there were at least a dozen people hanging out in it. Alice and I assumed we had to go through it to get inside, so we headed in that direction.
I was anxious, but it got even worse when we approached the building and I noticed a couple of motorcycles parked near the front. My heart sped up and then it quickly dropped when I noticed that neither of them were Michael's. I stared at them carefully as we made our way toward the porch. I really wanted one of them to be his, but they weren't. One was a Harley. I couldn’t find the name on the other one, but didn't say Bishop, and it didn't look anything like Michael's—not even close.
I could tell I would like Jim-bo's right off the bat. There were at least ten people standing around on the small front porch. About half of us were white and the other half black. No one seemed to notice the color of my skin when I came in the door, and we all just smiled at each other.
"Is this the way in?" I asked a group of three people who were standing next to the door. The girl nodded and reached out to open the door for us. The sound of blaring music hit us like a wall when the door opened. There was a live band playing a song called Shake, and I smiled at the sound of it as we stepped into the room and let the door close behind us.
There were what must have been more than a couple hundred people packed into that room, and Alice and I hugged the wall as we made our way closer to the stage. Jim-bo's was very similar to the place where I played in Nashville, and I loved it instantly. The familiar smell of wood and sweat gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling. Shake always made me want to dance the Jerk. It was one of my favorite dancing songs, and the band was doing a great job with it. I particularly liked the singer, who sounded very similar to Sam Cooke.
The dance floor was packed, and there wasn't a person on it who was standing still. Alice and I quickly found a spot against the wall so that we could look out at the crowd. We just stood there and took it in. The singer and the entire audience felt that music down to their bones. The whole house seemed to shake and pulse with the rhythm of the song. I had done my homework with blues and soul music, and I sang along at all the right times where a background vocalist would even though he didn't have anyone on stage with him.
"You sound good!" Alice said, yelling over the music and staring at me with a surprised expression. "You should go up there!"
I smiled. "I love this song."
"I went to a place like this with Shirley Tanner," she continued.
I gave her a curious expression.
"Blues Avenue," she explained. "It's not back in the woods like this. It's over on Highway 64."
"Ivy Lewis, you said you would come, and here you are, darlin'! You didn't tell me a lie!"
I turned to find my friend Curtis standing there, smiling at me. His arm was draped loosely around a woman's shoulders. They were both sweating from so much exertion, and they apologized about it when I reached out to give them a hug.
"This is my little friend from Nashville I was tellin' you about," he said to his dance partner. "I'm gonna have her sit in on the piano, and you'll know why I said she got soul. Ivy Lewis, Ms. rhythm and blues herself! I can't believe you grew up over here and didn't already come out to Jim-bo's!"
I shrugged and smiled, motioning to the band. "These guys sound amazing," I said. "Who are they?"
"Charlie James and the Backyard Boys." Curtis said. He let out a little laugh and leaned in to speak closer to my ear. "And I know old Wayne would be thankful for a break whenever you're ready to sit in."
I knew Curtis was referring to the man playing the piano who looked to be a good fifty years older than the next oldest member in the band.
"I'll sit in if you're sure they don't mind," I said tentatively.
"Don't mind?" he asked, laughing. "I'm sure Mr. Wayne would hug your little neck if you went up there and gave him a break."
Chapter 6
I told Curtis that I would be honored to sit in on a few songs, but that I wasn't in a hurry since Alice and I were planning on sticking around for a little while. He and his dance partner headed back in the direction of the band, leaving Alice and me in the same place, standing near the wall.
Another song started—a slow, instrumental number called Night Beat. I had the Chuck Berry recording of it in my dorm, and I had listened to it a hundred times. Most people slow danced in pairs while others just swayed back and fourth, watching the musicians. It was a sweaty, sultry atmosphere, and the song fit it perfectly. The band really did have talent and soul, too, which made it even better.
I thought about Michael Bishop and wondered if he would come, but I decided not to waste time daydreaming. I had very little time to enjoy the music, so I did what I'd been doing every weekend in Nashville. I danced. It was something I loved to do. I would often put on records and dance right there in my dorm room, but there was something about assembling with other people and letting out a good dance in one common accord that was good for the soul.
After Night Beat, the band played three dance songs in a row, and I pulled Alice onto the floor, giving her no other choice but to dance with me. She was stiff as a board at first but she did her best to go along with it, and she did a surprisingly good job once she got warmed up.
"That guy's here," Alice said, leaning in to talk to me once the band finally started playing another slow song. It was one called The Things I Used to Do, from the same Chuck Berry album, and I made a mental note that if it worked out for me to sit in with these guys that I would do at least one song from that same album since they obviously knew it well. I was lost in thought when Alice whispered the words into my ear, so I didn't even comprehend what she was saying.
"He's here," she repeated. "The guy with the motorcycle."
I reached out and squeezed Alice's forearm, stiffly turning and staring straight at her. "Did you say he's here?" I asked.
She nodded and glanced over my shoulder as if checking to make sure. "He got here a minute ago," she said. "I saw him come in when we were dancing, but I wasn't sure it was him. I can see him now. He's with another guy—over by the door."
"Are you sure it's him?" I asked.
Alice nodded.
I wanted to play it cool, but there was nothing I could do to stop myself from searching for him. I instantly turned and looked right at the door, and then I started to scan the area right around it. Michael was there, dressed in jeans and a button down shirt. His hair was combed away from his face in a tidy style and I absentmindedly wond
ered how it looked so perfect after he had been riding a motorcycle. He said something to the guy who was standing next to him.
After he spoke to his friend, he started scanning the room, and I watched his expression change when he laid eyes on me. My stomach flipped as I watched his face shift from serious to relieved and smiling. My heart was absolutely about to pound out of my chest at the realization that I had been the one to make him smile like that. Michael was hands-down the most handsome guy in the room—the most handsome guy I had ever seen.
"Who is that?" Alice said.
"Michael Bishop," I said. I was talking to Alice, but Michael and I held eye contact from across the room.
"I know that," she said. "I'm talking about the guy he's with. Who is that?"
"I have no idea," I said without even giving a second glance to the guy."
"I know y'all are having a good time with Charlie James and the Backyard Boys tonight!" Curtis had leaned in front of Charlie, and his deep voice came over the microphone in the tone of a professional emcee. He and Charlie were smiling at each other as if the whole thing was planned, and the crowd gave a big round of applause, showing their appreciation for the music. Curtis turned to look at the piano, which was already vacant. He let out a laugh. "I already told Mr. Wayne he was gonna get a little break, and he done turned tail and ran, y'all! He's gonna take a well-deserved break for the next coupla songs, and I'm gonna get my girl Ivy up here to sing and play a little bit for y'all. Let's everybody give a big welcome to Ivy!"
The crowd clapped again, and without giving it a second thought, I made my way toward the stage.
I heard Alice say, "Oh my goodness, good luck, Ivy!" at my back as I walked away.
It was seriously cute seeing how nervous she was for me. She had no idea I had been doing this regularly and was completely in my element. I glanced at Michael on my way up there, and he gave me a smile and lifted his eyebrows, looking satisfied with the timing of his arrival. I squinted my eyes at him, which made his smile broaden—he was truly gorgeous.
Summer of '65 (Bishop Family Book 1) Page 4