Just Wanted to Learn

by William Swafford

  Ben had brought his lights. His girlfriend had run them while we played. They weren’t anything special, but they did the job.

  We weren’t on any stage, but we did have our own area. I wasn’t as nervous as the first time. I just hoped that we would sound good.

  There were a lot more people that had showed up. We had a complete band. It did feel different from the first time that I had played there.

  People who had heard us before said that we sounded a hundred percent better. This had gone to all of our heads.

  Adrenaline had flowed that whole night. We all had a blast.

  I had a few drinks after we were done playing and then went back to the motel. It always took several hours to calm down after playing somewhere.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I had turned twenty-one-years old after Derby Days and had bought my 85 Camaro. I had bought it off my mom. I had always loved the car.

  It was black with tee-tops. The car had never seen snow till I had got it. The body was in perfect condition.

  Ben the bass player had stopped playing with us. Bill had to go and deal with his problems. We were down to three.

  It was hard to stay motivated when we were a complete band and finally sounding good, and then to go back basically to how we started.

  Dylan was starting to stress me out. He was trying to take more authority over things. It got to where I had to motivate myself just to go out and play.

  I wanted to talk to my dad about it. I had some things to say about Dylan. I just didn’t like his personality.

  Things had gone like that for a month. Then my dad had stopped by the apartment one night.

  “I know,” my dad would say. I think he had mixed feelings about Dylan. “But, he has some connections.”

  “One,” I said. “He got us one place to play and it doesn’t even pay.”

  Dylan had set us up to play at the local Eagles the following night. There wasn’t any money involved from what I was told. It was supposed to be an audition to play at a later date.

  It slowed us down not having a demo tape. My dad always wanted to record, but nothing ever turned out good when we did.

  My dad had something to say about the band. He could never make up his mind what he wanted to do.

  “North Cherokee is dying out,” he said. We never really got started. “I wish I would have never started this shit.”

  I sat there and didn’t say anything. I could have gone either way with the band.

  “I talked to Bill,” he started again. “I know there are problems between the two of you, but I’m bringing him back in.”

  “Ok,” I said. “Why?”

  “Because people like him,” he said.

  He had me confused. One minute he was talking about how he wished he didn’t start the band, and then he was talking of bring Bill back in.

  “Sam Clark, too,” he said.

  “What?” I replied.

  “You remember Sam Clark, don’t you?” he said.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  Sam and my dad had been friends since before I was born. My dad had always said that Sam was the best bass guitar player that he had played with.

  North Cherokee was back to being a full band. I had looked forward to Sam playing with us. I couldn’t wait to see what he would do for the band.

  My dad, Dylan, and I were to play at the Eagles the following night. I wasn’t getting paid but it was important to me. I had always played in front of people that I didn’t know.

  This was the first time I played in my hometown in a place I had been in when I was younger. My grandma Michaels had taken me before. I saw a couple of country bands there.

  I just wanted a good night without being embarrassed. If there was a bad night, my friends and family could have possibly heard about it.

  My dad an Dylan didn’t seem worried about it. They had their drinks just like they always did.

  There wasn’t much of a crowd. We did sound good. My dad did all the singing. We stuck to mostly all country music. The crowd was mostly older people.

  The crowd seemed more worried about sitting at the bar and drinking. Nobody got up to dance. I wished there would have been more people and a younger.

  It turned out to be a decent night even though we weren’t paid for it. We didn’t hear back from them after that night.

  After the night at the Eagles, we had started practicing with Bill and Sam. Sam was a more experienced bass player then Ben. He had done a lot better job.

  Sam could play the country bass lines better than Ben. The thing that I like the most was that he was one of the old classic rockers. He was good when it came to the old rock.

  Bill was still only singing a limited number of songs and not playing an instrument. Bill and I didn’t talk that much. I didn’t like how my dad was putting him before me. Bill knew what was going on.

  I didn’t talk much to anyone. I was the youngest there. Everyone was around my dad’s age except for Bill and me. Bill was still a few years older.

  Dylan did get us another place to play. Everyone was supposed to get paid. This was what I was told anyways.

  We had got booked again in town. We were to play at the American Legion. It was a special place, but it meant something to my dad and me.

  It was the first place that I had seen my dad play in a band. My dad was going back and I was going with him.

  This was a big night for my dad. This was the first time back to the place for him since he had played with Nick. He wanted to show that he had come back better and with a better band.

  The night had started off slow. There were just a few people at the bar. We got up on stage hoping that a good crowd would show up.

  I wish things would have gone good that night, but they didn’t. People just didn’t show up. I believe this had an effect on us all.

  There were just some of the guys’ girlfriends and a few friends. My dad had ended the night just like he had done before.

  He had been drinking a lot. He had gotten upset and it showed. He was upset about nobody showing up.

  We were supposed to get paid fifty dollars apiece. I wasn’t told whether anyone got paid or not. I know that I didn’t. I tried to ask my dad about it. He was drunk and I couldn’t get a straight answer out of him.

  The fact that I didn’t get paid had upset me. I didn’t talk to anyone for awhile after that, so I didn’t know if they all got paid or not. When I did talk to one person about it, they said my dad and Bill drank it all up.

  My dad always wanted his drinks for free when he played. On that night they weren’t and the place took his and other’s drinks out of everyone’s pay.

  I wasn’t happy about this, because I didn’t drink that night. I had paid for all the soda’s that I had.

  The band ended up getting stressful. We weren’t getting any places to play. Dylan decided that he had enough. My dad wouldn’t let things go.

  I couldn’t admit to myself or my dad that I had about had enough. Things were nowhere close to where I ever thought that they would be. I kept wondering if things would have been different if I had been in another band.

  My dad and Sam wanted to bring in Doug. Doug had always been a drummer and was better than Dylan.

  I wasn’t a big fan of Doug and wasn’t happy about it. Doug had drummed for another band for years and his loyalty was with them. The way it should be, but it would affect our band. If his band needed him, then we would be out of luck.

  We had no other options. Bass players and drummers are the hardest to find when putting together a band.

  The band never really pulled together like it should have. Sometimes I couldn’t see how they even called us a band.

  I wasn’t happy about how things were going, but I can’t tell my dad how I felt. I just went along with things. We still didn’t get any places to play.

  I was starting to feel embarrassed
being associated with the band name. It’s harder to admit that I was getting embarrassed every time that I went anywhere with my dad. His drinking became an embarrassment.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I had lost my job at the pallet shop and started pumping gas at a station on the outside of town. I had to work the evening shift. There was a new conflict in my schedule.

  I had always made sure that my job hours didn’t conflict with my playing time. I wasn’t in a position to be picky about what job I took. I couldn’t play at the bar on Wednesday night anymore.

  I started dealing with depression. I was spending too much time alone. The only time I left the apartment was to go to work or get weed.

  The feelings inside of me started taking over. I started cutting my arms. I would start off with small cuts and then go deeper. There had to be at some blood.

  I didn’t want people to think that I was just doing it for attention. Long sleeve shirts were put on when someone would show up. There were times I would forget to put a shirt on.

  People just didn’t come and visit me though. I am not the type to go and just visit someone. I always feel like I’m bugging people.

  I did get a Wednesday off and had gone to visit my dad. He was still playing in the same bar on the same night. It was a quiet night.

  The whole night had felt weird. I had wished I hadn’t even had gone by the time I had got home. I didn’t play while I was there. I just sat and watched my dad play.

  I didn’t want to admit that I was done with the bar on Wednesday night. I felt that I was good enough to do more than just the same old bar. I knew that I wouldn’t get better till I moved on.

  It was also hard to watch my dad. He was struggling to keep what he had going. He was left with how it had started for him, all alone.

  He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but I could tell that he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t a rocker anymore. People could respect that fact that he was a good musician, but they couldn’t put up with a drunk in their band.

  I thought about the time that I had spent playing with him. It wasn’t all that great, but I didn’t regret it. I feel that I did what I had to do to at least try to learn something.

  I had a little too much to drink that night. I had to stop at a closed gas station to puke in the parking lot. I had a twenty minute drive home.

  I almost didn’t make it home that night. I was going down a back road and was getting ready to go onto a bridge. The bridge was meant for only one car.

  Once I was on the bridge, I had seen a set of head lights. I was already on the bridge, so the other vehicle was supposed to wait.

  The small truck didn’t stop. Somehow, that small truck and my Camaro had passed each other on that small bridge. I said a prayer thanking God for being alive.

  My hands wouldn’t quit shaking till I got home. I knew that I had gotten lucky that night. I still didn’t know where I was heading in music or even if I was heading anywhere.

  I kept working at the gas station. I stopped going and seeing my dad. That band thing had been laid to rest. I had started seeing a girl named, Jennifer.

  Jennifer had come by the gas station with Brandy. Brandy and her husband were friends with Ben. I had seen Jennifer once at a practice because she had a short thing with Ben.

  Jennifer was nineteen-years old with shoulder length red hair. She was skinny with a nice figure. She was a quiet country girl. Her mom was strict and didn’t like me.

  Brandy had stolen some stuff from the gas station. I had Jennifer get them back. I believe that she only done so because she wanted to be with me.

  We had spent some time together and she had moved in with me. This wasn’t the best idea that I ever had. We argued a lot and mostly over nothing. This was the first time Jennifer ever lived outside of her mom’s house.

  I was working, but she wasn’t. There wasn’t much money coming in from the gas station. When she did get a job, then there were trust issues.

  The bills had gotten behind once and the electric was turned off. The bill had gotten paid, but then there was a problem with the fuse box. The problem had to be fixed before the power would be turned back on.

  The landlord was a German Baptist lady. Some people call them dunkers, almost like the Amish. The electrician she had hired was of the same faith.

  I was home on the day they were finishing up. Jennifer was at work. The guy and his son waited outside for the power company to show up.

  The house was split in three apartments. I had the second floor with my own door. One apartment was empty and the couple downstairs was at work.

  I decided to play around on my guitar. I knew that no one would hear me, so I sang a song that I had wrote.

  I have always had a strange issue about singing and playing at home. I can sing and play when someone is in the same room.

  When I sing and play all alone, I got to shut all windows and doors. I start worrying whether anyone can hear me. If I think someone heard me, I usually quit playing.

  I never thought I was a great singer or guitar player. I especially didn’t like the way I sounded at home. That’s what kept the urge to learn around. I had to keep getting better.

  Living on the second floor I thought that I wouldn’t have been heard by anyone. I only played a couple of songs. Then a knock came at the door.

  The power company had shown up and the electrician had to finish up the fuse box. He walked into the living room and had seen the guitar on the chair.

  “Was that you playing?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  I felt uncomfortable because I was heard. My weird issue about being heard at home was kicking in.

  “I thought it was a song on the radio,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “I didn’t think that anyone could hear me up here.”

  I was completely amazed by what he said. I didn’t think it was good or even close to being like what he possibly would listen to. It was a big compliment for me.

  I had told Jennifer when she had gotten home. She didn’t act like she really cared about it. I don’t think that she was my biggest fan when it came to music.

  Things didn’t get better between Jennifer and me. The arguing kept getting worse. I would go off over anything.

  We couldn’t agree on anything. She had lived a very shelter life. Being stuck in the house together wasn’t good for use. There wasn’t much to our relationship after the sex.

  I had played a few times with my dad. It was hard to go to the bar with Jennifer, because she was under the age of twenty-one.

  Everything was the same, but then it happened. My dad finally was going to be able to do what he been waiting on for years. North Cherokee was going to play on the main stage at Derby Days.

  There was only one problem. There was no North Cherokee. Nobody had played together for months.

  The band would have to be put back together. My dad would go looking for the people from the past. We had a little over a month to get ready.

  I would have wanted to find new people, but there wasn’t much time. If I had voiced my opinion, it wouldn’t have mattered anyways. The last word was always my dad’s.

  There were times that I would wonder if I would have even played with him if he wasn’t my dad. Would my dad wanted me to be in his band if I wasn’t his son?

  It seemed the same as it was before. Ben was back on bass, Doug on drums, Bill singing, my dad singing and guitar, and I was rhythm guitar.

  We started practicing at Bill’s house. There was a bad band practice because of Jennifer once.

  There had been some issues with Jennifer before going to practice. Everyone said no girlfriends at practice, but that didn’t stop anyone else, so I didn’t let it stop me.

  Jennifer still had feelings for Ben. That had been stressing me out for a while before this. Things had gotten bad as we walked up to the door.

&nb
sp; I found out why girlfriends at band practice don’t work. I didn’t stay and practice that day.

  My dad really wanted to be ready to play on the main stage. He even wanted to have the guitar I put together fixed.

  I had already given up on the guitar. I wasn’t going to pay to have it worked on. I didn’t have the money to have it worked on. My dad said that he would pay to have it fixed.

  We took the electric guitar to a shop in Dayton. My dad wanted the frets filed down and the intonation set.

  It had taken a week to get done. I had gotten upset with my dad when we had gone to pick it up.

  We had to drop off my twelve string guitar when we picked up the electric. The bridge was coming off the twelve string guitar. It was going to take ten days to fix.

  On the way home I had gotten upset because he didn’t give me gas money, even though he was paying to get both guitars fixed. Then I had gotten upset about the electric.

  My dad was going to take the guitar home with him. I wouldn’t take it be able to take it home till after the show.

  When we got to my dad’s place, I wanted to hear how it sounded. I thought it had sounded like crap and didn’t like what had been done with it.

  The next day I was still upset about everything. The only guitar I had to play was the red electric that Brian had given me, but my dad had my amp. Jennifer had an old miniature guitar, but I didn’t like playing it.

  I got over my issues and kept practicing with the band. My dad wanted to bring in a lead guitar player from Doug’s band. I had heard of the guy, but never met him.

  We did one practice at the guy’s house. Their band had better equipment. They were also using computers. They spent more time messing with all that than we did practicing.

  We all decided that Bill would hold a guitar while on stage. He couldn’t play any songs that we did, but he wouldn’t be plugged in. He just had to look like he knew what he was doing.

  As the day approached, I didn’t know how to feel. I was afraid that we weren’t going to sound good. I didn’t tell anyone how I felt.

  The day of the big show finally came. I wasn’t excited, because I didn’t know what to expect. I was nervous the whole day.

  The forecast was calling for rain, but we all hoped it would go around us. The crowd wasn’t huge, but was enough for a show.