We're Just About There!

 

Sunrise in Missouri

 
            “Why in the world did you tell that lady you were Albanian?” snickered Joe.
            “First thing that came to mind,” said Maurice, shaking his shaggy head. “I couldn’t say I was the Ozark Howler now could I? How would that have gone over? Plus, Albanians are pretty hairy. There was one in that last band in Milltown. I think he gave me a run for the money!”
            All three were gathered close together because it was dark in the box car and they were sharing some Kielbasa, bananas, rolls and more milk, mostly for Sue’s sake, since she was still a kid. A little cat kid. Joe had also bought some cans of Fancy Feast because Kielbasa is maybe a little rough and spicy for a little kitten only a few months old.
            “By the way, Joe, why did you tell that guy, Howard, that the name of the band was Joe&Company?” said Maurice. “That isn’t real bell ringer!”
            “As I told you and Sue, I felt put on the spot.  We hadn’t even discussed a name and all of a sudden I needed one,” said Joe. “I don’t think it’s real bad though. Not every band name is some exciting crazy two word phrase that someone just picked out of the air. Sometimes, it just says what it is!”
            “I think it’s ok,” said Sleeky Sue, sleepily. “If we invent a better name, we’ll just use the new one.  I don’t think it’s done any damage.
            “I’m wondering about how many songs you have written, and their names. Maybe while we’re stuck here all night, we could think about that. Were the four you did over and over today all that you have?  Are they written down?”
            “Oh, no, I have a notebook full. Some are pretty good. Some are odd and some are, like, not finished. But you’re right Sue, we need to work on maybe a dozen or even ten. Polish em up. Teach Maurice the lyrics,” said Joe.
            “I have a good memory,” said Maurice, “but I can’t read. Reading just sort of never came up. None of us Howlers ever needed to read.  We just howl and hunt and hide.  You know.  The big three.”
            “Oh, reading is no big deal,” said Joe. “I can teach you how to read pretty quick. I’ve taught other non-literates to read, sometimes for a price, you know. Each one help one, but a man’s gotta eat too.” He was strumming, and humming, and thinking up lyrics in between speaking and listening.
            “Why don’t you list a few Joe,” asked Sue. “Just by title, for now.”
            “Okay. Let’s see, um,” said Joe thoughtfully.
1.      Can You Hear Me, Mama.           
2.      Ringing In My Ears.
3.      Fishin’ Blues.
4.      My Truck’s Broke Again.
5.      Get Your Dog Off My Lawn.
6.      That’ll Be $26.99.
7.      Please, No Turkey!
8.      The Garden At Midnight.
9.      Korean Burrito.
10.  Only A Duck Would Do That.
11.  It’ll Be A Long Way Back Now.
12.  Cat’s Got It Goin’ On.
 
            “That ought to be enough,” murmured Joe.
            “The words aren’t very complicated.  People seem to dig repeated verses because they like to remember songs and the repetitions make it easier for them.”
            The train was singing that old sleepy song again, and it had been a busy day for the band. The car rocked. The wheels rattled. Sometimes a little flash of light from a lamp outside would show up briefly. It was all very much like being rocked to sleep. Some old memory.
            Maurice curled up into a doughnut again, making a shaggy nest for Sue. Sue climbed in under his raincoat in the center of the doughnut, sighed and shut her eyes.  She purred for a while and then drifted off. Her sleep was ruffled a bit by memories faint and sweet of her mother, and memories of her beloved lady.
            Joe scooted over to where he had a wall to lean on. He played a few of his tunes quietly, then put his guitar back into its case, checking to make sure that the precious notebook was still in the pocket inside. He shut the lid and drummed with his finger tips for a while on the case. Soon he was dreaming of the great future that was just waiting for them in Missouri.
            All through the night the freight rolled swiftly through the heart of America and the center of the band’s dreaming. Stars flew by, the moon gleamed, then clouds covered the heavens. Morning was on the way, just as surely as every morning that there has ever been.