Onion Dent (a fictitious online band story) part 2

The rehearsal of a lifetime

I arrived an hour early just in case there were any unseen problems that could be eliminated before the others arrived.  The exterior of the school was an absolute mess.  A turn-of-the-century run-down brick elementary school.  The faded sign read “St. Leonard’s catholic school and recreational center.”  St. Leonard?
He must be the patron saint for those who about to fail.  Thoughts of failing now had a voice.  I heard it in a distant echo “Dom is that you?”  There at the back of the building he stood.  A gray three-piece suit, bright red tie, over-slicked hair and a collection of jewelry I suspect he got from Mr. T.  “Park back here my man, I’ll help you unpack.”  Shill Miller had a smile that could only be rivaled by a Mad Magazine cover.
Did you ever get that ominous and unsettling feeling as a kid on the first day of school when you met your new teacher?  You knew by the look on her face with the deep wrinkled brow and missing “laugh lines” that you were screwed for the entire school year.  I am actually at a school on my way inside and even in middle age, it still feels as bad as it did back when Nixon was president.
The next moments were spent driving the van to the back and parking near the open double doors.
I peered inside and there was Shill with a pasted smile next to a table full of donuts and coffee cups.  “Not bad is it? he said.”  The place was actually well kept as they obviously painted and resurfaced just before closing it down.  He was ten feet away from me, over-smiling, with hand extended out for a handshake as far as his arms length would allow without the dislocation of his shoulder.  A major trade wind of “Polo” hit me in the face as I got within eight feet of him. It was as if Saint Leonard himself anointed him with cologne.
“Dom it is such a pleasure to get this show on the road” he said.  A handshake pulled me in to a “Polo” hug and a pinky ring dug into my ring finger.  An uncomfortable moment followed as I realized I just got a deep-pressure embrace and unsolicited affection with gallons of cologne in an Old Catholic school basement.
For a moment I thought it might have been a hidden camera e-harmony commercial.
“This band is going to be big and you are the reason” he chimed.
Shill, this is no slam-dunk,” I replied.  “You will see my man, you will see.”
There was a stage at the back of the room.  It was where they used to set up the table for “Floyd whats his name” to announce the bingo numbers.  To my surprise, Shill came through in a big way.  The stage was completely set up with top-notch equipment and a terrific sound system.  It was very impressive and would help sell the foggy expectations to the later arrivals.   “I figured some extra instruments couldn’t hurt,” he proudly said.  “My neighbor got me a good rental rate on this place, he knows the Bishop.”
I quickly changed the subject to bypass the story of that rental agreement friendship.
One by one each musician arrived.  Everyone rolled their eyes in disgust, as they were let go from their initial Shill embrace and pinky ring indentation.  I guess it was our “initiation” into the group.  The post-hug aftermath left us unwillingly smelling like our fearless leader.  Donny started the comments “I haven’t been hugged like that since the 1980’s” “I feel like Don Johnson,” Iam said.  “I feel like Don’s Johnson” I replied (I could not pass that one up).  We all laughed off the inherited fragrance assault.
We then shared twenty minutes of coffee, conversation, and catch-up.  It really lifted my spirits as we all genuinely had a cohesive unit off stage. It was loose and friendly and all of a sudden our attention was directed to the stage.  Everyone got “astounded ” into quiet, as they glanced at the stage with realization of the presence of top-notch equipment.
It was like the last miracle that God had left for this old school.
Suddenly, there was Shill tapping the microphone signaling an opening ceremony speech.  “This ought to be good,” I thought.  “Is this the opening act?” Donny whispered.  “I think this guys been locked in here since the placed closed and is just looking for some loving” Joe said.  That started a roar of laughter that was calmed by intense mic tapping.
After Shill cleared his throat for a few minutes he put on his “game face.”
He began with “gentleman I am honored to be a part of this great group and really looking forward to you all becoming rich and famous.”  Like school kids, we had to hold back our laughter.
He continued putting a positive spin on everything and offered support to accommodate all of our individual needs and family obligations.  “I will make this work for you, thank you.” A “golf” clap followed as he walked off the stage.
We all started to unpack, take turns for the pre jam bathroom break, and set up what we needed to.
Iam walked back to the stage towards me with a stone cold look on his face and said.  “What’s up with Shill?”
“What do you mean?”  “Well he stood in the bathroom and talked to me the entire time I was going!”
“He better not follow me in there if he sees me walking in there with a newspaper!”
“This guy is walking on thin ice my friend.”  I calmed Iam down the best I could and he got Donny agitated as he relayed the story.   I thought it was a good time for a break in the action.
I got up from my seat, thanked everyone for being there and said the proof will be in how we play.  I suggested we get right into a casual jam session to get musically acquainted and work out the kinks.  After twenty minutes of a sloppy “taking care of business” there was an uneasy moment of silence.
“How about an old rocker like ‘blue suede shoes?” I went right into “it’s one for the money.”  Everyone followed and half way through the song Donny yelled, “pick it up!”  We increased the tempo until it sounded like a punk rendition.  We put the brakes on a few minutes later and it sounded like a slow country ballad.  We finished it off with going back to normal time and honestly, it sounded great.  Yes it was a simple song, but we spontaneously wrestled around with it and it became much more interesting.  The horns really shined as they exchanged solos and best of all it was fun.  It was a small victory. When Dave said on the mic “you guys suck” we all lost it in laughter again.
We did a few more tunes that we all were familiar with, had some more coffee and finished up for the afternoon.  Shill could not contain the excitement.  “You guys are the best, I mean it and this is just the beginning.  Clear your schedules for next week.”
Nobody wanted to rain on his parade so we just went on and packed up our stuff.  The realization that this would take a lot of work and time( time we did not have) hit us all.  There were unsettling rumblings in the comments that followed and I thought “wait until they hear the name he came up with.”
“This guy is nuts, if he thinks he is going to run my life, he has another thing coming.”  Iam was percolating again.  “I will straighten this all out before I leave, he said.

“Dom, this was fun, but I’m not returning to Scranton.”  “Jerry I understand,” was all I could utter in reply.  “I do not like this guy, if he hugs me again, he is going down.”  “Take it easy Iam, he means well.”  We then realized Dave and Tom left without saying goodbye, not a good sign.  I learned rather quickly that Shill didn’t always say the right thing.  He must have really hit a sore spot this time.  Iam had Shill by the shirt collar and was in his face. It happened so fast and unexpected.  Joe must have been reading my mind as he mumbled “this could get really ugly.”   He was right as it was just about to.

Copyright © 2010 Domenick Cassise. All rights Reserved Worldwide.

(check back for more installments that continue the story)

Onion Dent is a work of fiction and any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This entry was posted on February 27, 2010 at February 27, 2010 and is filed under reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.