CHAPTER SEVEN
Muses, Music, and Memorials
The Three Muses was the place they’d be performing that night. After spending a few days with Tapestry, mostly under the sheets, he finally let her in on the details. The excitement in her eyes stirred him up. He loved her exuberance.
“I’ve been there a few times!” she said excitedly.
They agreed it was a lot fancier than the Spotted Cat but attracted way more tourists. They served tapas and fancy drinks in real glasses versus Cain’s beloved Spotted Cat that was notorious for the plastic cups, but he liked them both in different ways.
The most exciting bit though: he’d gotten a tip weeks ago that a big music producer by the name of Spinely would be stopping through and had some interest in him and a couple of others that worked the circuit. Initially, he’d practiced until his fingers practically bled dry and his voice was hoarse, but had wondered a time or two if, for some of these gigs, he’d do well to have a woman on board, too. But, he had doubts about that until Tapestry walked onto his stage and into his life…
Now it was no longer a question; he was convinced. He paid close attention to how the crowd had reacted to her at the Spotted Cat. That was the time to piss or get off the pot. The crowd was more than enjoying her—they were into it. The Spotted Cat only had a few chairs at the bar and was mostly standing room only, so those patrons were dedicated, there for the liquor and music, period. They were good tester spectators, for sure.
And now, his music had feminine tones, at least for a few songs he had stashed under his belt. He explained to Tapestry that Spinely didn’t play around, so he was bringing out the big guns: her. She was his secret weapon, and he wasn’t about to sugarcoat that. Anything to make him look better he was down for and in this case, she was in full agreement.
She would finally get the exposure she so deserved… that she didn’t realize she needed in the worst way. The woman had downplayed her talent for too long and he’d simply had enough. Besides, at one time, he used to do that too; he recognized that self-deprecation, thinking one was never good enough. She was good enough, in every which way. As he made love to her over and over again, he had to make her understand that her gift was rare, and he was jealous of it, in a good way. He was in awe of the woman. She effortlessly did what she did… she had chops for days. She was an alto but could sing in practically any range. She could do anything he asked, and imitate almost exactly any singer’s style.
She.
Was.
Incredible.
He was upfront and real with her, but kept the fact that he was fallin’ in love with her to himself. That was simply going too far. It might frighten the woman away, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen.
Over the years, Cain had become painstakingly self-aware. He had to in order to save his own life. He had a tendency to fall in love quickly when he really liked someone and hated this about himself, especially since he’d spend the bulk of his time trying to pretend like it wasn’t true. This time though, things had happened quicker by far. He rarely invited women to his place anymore, so he knew he was in trouble when he rushed home after work to get all cleaned up and look good for her…
Something had changed. When they weren’t together, they were texting and calling one another, nonstop. And though he would never tell her, he’d been stalking her Instagram posts, and he felt all good inside when she’d mentioned in one of them her meeting a guitar player whom she adored… along with his picture.
He didn’t want this connection messed up, so he was determined to control himself, to watch her cues and then make his move. He’d slow this shit down a bit; after all, there was business on the table and Tapestry admitted relationships made her a little skittish. She’d been through some shit she’d openly admitted to during one of their heart-to-hearts, and he respected that.
In her life, she’d experienced a whole damn lineup of cheaters, liars, guys that were inconsistent and playin’ games. She’d honestly been through hell. The woman could only recall one man in her entire dating history who hadn’t cheated on her, and she was sick and tired of guys in general. She’d gone into protection mode, and he couldn’t say that he blamed her. Besides, sometimes, he’d done those things to women, too. Sometimes, he hadn’t been as honest as he should have been. Sometimes, he’d played games and had more than one lady at a time. Oddly enough, he had felt remorse about it, but he’d done it anyway.
He didn’t want to do that to her. He truly wanted to be with her and only her, so he watched his steps. If they could only be friends, he’d accept that too, but he wanted more with Tapestry, so much more. Like Daddy had said, maybe it was time to stop all that foolishness anyway and the fact of the matter was, women like Tapestry weren’t common. He’d been around the block a time or two to know this firsthand. There would be no ‘finding her replacement’ if this shit didn’t pan out right.
Where else was he gonna find a woman as pretty as her, that could sing like her, help him with his music, and make love to him like her, too? Where would he find a woman who could make him smile like she did, be all nurturin’ and sweet and go off when need be like her? She was ultra-feminine, friendly, and approachable… but if you pushed too far, she simply wasn’t having it. That’s what he wanted. That’s what he needed.
Somebody like his mama…
He’d even overheard one of her conversations with a patient once as they lay in bed together one night. Some lady named Ms. Robertson, if his memory served him right, had called her in a panic talkin’ about she couldn’t find her bag of salted peanuts. Instead of rushing the woman off the phone, Tapestry sat there on that phone for over twenty minutes, talkin’ all sweet and calm to the lady, and walked her through it… calmed the woman down so she’d go on back to bed.
The woman apparently had dementia, and Tapestry was real hands on and gentle with her. His love for her grew at that moment, to the point there was no possible way he’d ever be able to reel it back in. Tapestry was one of a kind, like a cheeseburger that had been accidentally doubled and slapped with five slices of cheddar instead of just one. He refused to be a fool and fuck this all up by rushin’ in too fast, becoming disenchanted, and then parading around with other ladies or making up things just to cover his tracks. He wanted this to be authentic…
Just like her.
He busied himself setting up inside the bar, while all these thoughts raced inside of his head. Tapestry was in the back with some friends of hers, doing Lord knows what. He kept drifting back and forth between worrying about his performance tonight and his growing love for her.
But then something caught his eye. He paused and stood up straight with a fistful of wires in his hand. His heart beat faster…
Spinely had arrived. The man was strolling about with a glass of something, wearing a suit jacket paired with some jeans, and dark sunglasses on his face.
I’m tryna get mine tonight… we’re going to do this… I deserve this. I’ve worked my ass off most of my damn life. I got pieces of wood in my fucking fingers from my day job, and splits and cuts in ’em from this damn guitar. My throat burns from singin’ for hours at a time. The only thing that made me relax today was bein’ inside of that woman, and hearin’ her singing love songs when she was in my shower…
She’d become his muse and his medicine. Perhaps they were one and the same.
His nerves calmed, and he got the microphones set up just so, pretending he hadn’t even noticed the man eyeing him a time or two.
This time, it’s gotta work…
Cain’s frustration had been at an all-time high with the whole process in general. A part of him resented that he had to put on airs in the first place, but he understood that it came with the territory. Besides, things had to change, and there were steps involved. It was a process.
He wanted some studio time… he wanted to get out from behind the scenes. He’d seen several of the songs he’d written for other up-and-coming artists and full out celebrities get all types of press and airplay, and his name was barely known outside of New Orleans. In fact, he had to remind a few folks that he’d written the shit—and to give him the credit he deserved when it was time for the royalties, listings of who wrote the lyrics, and a percentage of their iTunes and Spotify streams. He made sure he had contracts, but sometimes people still tried to be slick.
Also, despite the fact he’d written songs for big time artists, many of these were recent and not yet released, so he hadn’t started receiving royalties yet through his new publishing company. The old company… thinking about that still filled him with rage and disappointment. All the money they stole from him, potential royalties lost as they banked on his lack of experience at the time—that was something he’d never be able to get back. If he’d been half as savvy as he was now, he probably would have been rolling in dough and wouldn’t have needed his day job. Guess there was no use crying over spilled milk right now…
For certain, it was a dog eat dog industry, but as things stood now he was no new jack and he was far from stupid. Money was coming, but it wasn’t even just about the money. After all, this was supplemental income, but more than that, he believed in giving credit where credit was due—and he’d come to collect.
“Hey, baby.” Tapestry came bustling towards him dressed in all white. Her knee length sundress was a tad bit sheer, making her look all the sexier. She paired it with some strappy white heels that looked amazing against her skin tone. He loved how well put together she always looked; it was a big turn on. She sported a white lotus flower in her hair this evening. Her lips were a bright red and she looked like the sun and the moon’s lovechild. He smiled at her… went wild about her…
“Get yo’ fine ass up here and get ready… back there hee-hawin’ with your girlfriends and left me all to my lonesome.” She smiled and rolled her eyes at him as she drew closer. “Grab that microphone like you grabbed my dick this mornin’ and sucked my soul clean outta me.”
“Oh, shut up.”
She playfully slapped his arm but did as she was asked.
“Now, just like I said, I’m startin’ with you, then I’ll do somethin’, but I want you to sit down on the stage and just kinda sway and be there when I do my song.”
“Got it.”
“Then you go, and then I go.”
“I know. We’ve been through this. What song are you doin’?”
“Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” He paused, looked around the place, and gritted his teeth. His moods were swinging like a pendulum.
“You’re all nerved up. Relax, baby. I got this.” She winked in his direction real lazy like, making him horny and calm all at the same time. Moments later, the time had arrived.
“Good evenin’, everybody. My name is Cain and this here is Tapestry.” Claps and whistles lit up the room. “Tapestry is new to the scene, but she ain’t new to singin’. This girl been beltin’ out tunes since she was a wee baby. I know it’s not the norm for me, for those of you who’ve come specifically to see me tonight, but for some of these numbers this evenin’, she’s gonna sing for y’all good people. Give Tapestry a warm welcome, please!”
He could only see the back of her, but had no doubt she was smiling. The audience gave her a downhome, warm greeting, complete with foot stomping and ovation. When it died down, he got started.
He began their signature song and he fell into a space where only they and the music existed, in a bubble. While he played that guitar and sang background, he only had eyes for her, his senses alive with the vibe and the rhythm. At one point, he closed his eyes and he could almost feel the damn energy change in the place, feeling in tune with what was happening… and it was pure magic. When he re-opened his eyes, his woman had that microphone in a deathly grip, belting out the lyrics with so much soul, her voice literally vibrating through the damn walls. There were bursts of applause, and he couldn’t help but smile. He was so damn proud of his pretty songbird. The place erupted with whistles and cheers when she was through.
As they’d discussed, she then took her seat beside him.
He rocked a bit in his chair, got into the zone, then began to strum the cords, falling deep and fast into the song. He was doing his rendition of “Under the Bridge” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. The crowd began to whistle the moment he started.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t have a paaaart-ner… sometimes I feel like my ooonly friend…”
Those words meant so very much to him, more than most would ever know. He went deep inside of himself, pulled out all that old fight he had within, all of that pain and anguish, and poured it into the song. He could hear the crowd, but they were fairly quiet. They were hanging on to him, in the zone with him. He could also feel Tapestry’s energy, and she seemed to draw a bit closer to him, and he could hear her humming… low, so low, he was certain he was the only one that could hear her.
He hadn’t told her he was performing that song. It was a personal moment. A time just for him. He’d clammed up in front of the crowd, like a crab, but in that instant, he exposed the deepest, darkest parts of him. His love for his music… his despair in a time of emotional darkness.
When he finished, he opened his eyes and one could’ve heard a pin drop. Tapestry had tears flowing down her face, making a mess of her makeup. But she was smiling. And then, just like that, the place burst with applause.
“You ain’t gotta feel that way no more,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m here. And I ain’t goin’ nowhere…”
Somehow, she knew that song was deeper than Atlantis for him. He hadn’t sung it since… well, perhaps he’d tell her later. Maybe somewhere deep inside she already knew what had happened? Maybe she was his soulmate and she understood his world, just like he understood hers. Bedpans, racists patients who didn’t appreciate having her around… Despite them being lonely and abandoned by their family and friends, or perhaps because of it, they shared a bond. Tapestry was strong. She put on a brave face and a smile, but perhaps she hurt deep inside just like he had at one point in time. Maybe that was why she was cryin’—not just for him, but for herself, too…
My baby can sing!
Tapestry knew Cain had chops, but he really showed it tonight. He presented himself as a guitar player, but in reality, Cain was a renaissance man. He was rip-roaring funny, a natural comedian, and smart as a whip. He also knew how to draw well; he’d showed her his portfolio of drawings and she had no idea until he told her that some of the artwork on the walls in his home consisted of sketches and paintings he’d created himself. They were gorgeous, full of color, and some were so realistic, they looked like black and white photographs. Last but not least, of course he could tear a guitar up—acoustic or electric, it didn’t matter, he had it down pat. Music was his lover though; he was most dedicated to her. He had talent bleeding out of his damn soul… so very creative.
And she loved him.
She’d realized this fully when she was sitting on his lap at some hole in the wall for breakfast the day before. Her pussy ached from their sex spree, and her heart ached from the awareness that she was fallin’ in love. She’d written a letter to him that morning that she’d never mail, declaring this fact.
At lunch, she’d eaten a piece of decadent, rich homemade chocolate cake until she felt sick. After that, she’d gone over to her parents’ house and kissed her mama. She was still lookin’ for the perfect rose with the big thorns, but she was heeding Ms. Robertson’s advice all the same… it was time. It had been time to open her heart once again and see what life had to offer. The fact that he trusted her enough to bring her out on one of the most important nights of his life was telling.
And the fact that he’d opened his soul in that room, for those people, was telling, too…
She couldn’t help but cry when he sang ‘Under the Bridge’, but she soon gathered herself and grabbed the microphone once more. Her baby began to stroke his guitar, and his deep voice sent everyone into a state of command and quiet.
“…Workin’ for the man every night and day… big wheel… keep on turnin’… proud Mary keep on burnin…” And then they joined together in their duo of, “Proud Mary” by Tina and Ike Turner.
“We’re rollin’… rollin’… rollin’ on the river…” It wasn’t long before the song exploded and the crowd went crazy. As she moved and danced around, working the stage, she was in love with the response, in love with the song, in love with her baby who’d helped give her the confidence to admit that she wasn’t happy… that she needed more out of this thing called life!
She wanted that chocolate cake and she got it. She needed to write that letter, and she did. She kissed her mama a million times over, because she loved her. And there was more to come. So much more. She ran on pure adrenaline as she conquered and owned that stage. Flapping her arms and moving her long legs to the rhythm, she did her best Tina Turner rendition, causing the crowd to cheer that much louder.
At one point she even caught Cain chuckling. She was acting a plum fool, but she couldn’t help herself. She was entertaining… she was in her element… she was finally home…
Cain finished up his set with “Two Princes,” from The Spin Doctors. He liked to leave the crowd in a good mood, so no Debbie downers. When he was done, his tip jar was flooded with cash. He and Tapestry were on stage for an extra thirty minutes due to several song requests, many of which they’d never practiced. But they winged it, and it turned out fantastic. The woman was a natural. She knew how to command the stage, how to engage the audience, and even in the midst of her at times comical antics on the stage, she showed him comfort and respect.
He didn’t see Spinely anymore though, and had no idea where the man had gone or what he thought about his set. Still, he was satisfied. The night drew to an end, and he was still floating on cloud 9. By the time they piled into the truck, all of the equipment secured and put away, it was past four in the morning. Sitting in the vehicle with the motor running, he dumped the jar of money out into a sack he kept in the back of his rig. He counted it all out, took half, then gave her the other half of the cash.
“Oh Cain, you don’t have to do that! I mean, this was your gig actually. I was just—”
“No, you worked hard tonight, baby. Don’t sell yourself short. This money wasn’t just for me but it was given to you, too. You earned it fair and square. Did you see how those people love you? You’ve got an old voice in a young body. That means somethin’ to people, especially in this day ’nd age when folks are addicted to autotuned bullshit, mumbo jumbo songs where you can barely understand what the hell they’re saying, and people who couldn’t carry a musical note in a fuckin’ bucket.”
She laughed at his words as she took her share, but he was serious. He leaned over and caressed her face, and they both just sat there, real quiet. “You did great tonight, baby…” He smiled at her, then leaned down for a kiss.
“So did you.”
She smiled at him, such a beautiful smile. He nodded, then pulled away from the curb. Wasn’t too long after she was fast asleep. He figured he’d take her home and get her in her apartment. She had work around ten, so a few hours of sleep would be better than none at all. Suddenly, his phone buzzed, startling him.
“Now who in the hell would be callin’ me right now?”
He looked at the number and saw it was Mama. In a panic, he picked it up and answered.
Was Daddy sick? Had Mama fallen and hurt herself? She’d complained of being dizzy lately…
“Mama…”
“Cain,” the woman said, her voice choked up. She’d obviously been crying.
“Mama, what’s wrong?”
“It’s… it’s Frieda. She’s gone, Cain.” His heart dropped. He knew Mama hurt real bad, and it didn’t matter that she and Frieda barely got along. That was her big sister, and Frieda had helped raise her when their mama had gotten sick then died.
“Mama, it’s all right… I’mma come right on over, okay?”
“Yes. I need you, Cain. She and I… I… just, I need you.”
“I’m comin’, Mama. I love you. Just hang tight.” He disconnected the call and busted a U-turn. Gently shaking his baby’s shoulder, he stirred her awake.
“Mmm,” Tapestry sleepily rubbed her eye and sat up straight. “I’m home already? How long was I out?”
“Naw, baby. We gotta go to Sulphur.”
“Sulphur? Right now? What for?”
“This ain’t how I imagined doin’ the introductions. This ain’t how I imagined it at all, but somethin’ bad done happened. I’m takin’ you home to Mama…”