CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I Can’t Stand the Rain
…A couple months later
The cosmic room was full of fellow musicians and musical big wigs from all around Louisiana, Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida and Georgia. Some were artists, some were producers, some were songwriters, and there were even many CEOs. The red carpet had been rolled out—this was the event of events and this year, the awards ceremony was being held in Austin, Texas.
Cain, Tapestry, and his mama had flown out after receiving word that he’d gotten several award nominations. He couldn’t believe it—it was like a dream come true. Life was happening, and he was in the thick of it.
Cain had already secured two awards at the ceremony: ‘Best New Rhythm and Blues Artist’ and ‘Best Southern Guitarist’. Dressed in black slacks, a button down dark red shirt, a white choker with cross and bones details, and all of his fingers covered in delicate black rings, he stood at the podium to receive yet another award: “Best New Album.” His hair was flipped over to one side; he’d had it professionally done for he definitely wanted to look his best. This was going to be aired on several channels and people had been talking about it for months. It was a big damn deal.
Spinely and Alexander sat in the front row in the auditorium with big proud smiles on their faces, as if they were the parents to birth a nation known as Cain. He looked out into the sea of people, smiling at his beautiful fiancée in particular.
She looks so damn good… wow. And that’s all mine… ALL mine…
Tapestry looked pleased as pudding, with her sweet lovely self. Donning a red and black 1950s style polka dot dress, four-inch red heels, and a pillbox hat, she looked to die for.
Many things had changed in the last few months. The women had become more aggressive with trying to catch his eye, the money started rolling in deep, the calls for interviews were nonstop, and the tour schedule was being finalized. He’d even been featured on several big-time music blogs and magazines, touted as a mixture of Kirk Cobain and Jimi Hendrix, an honor he couldn’t even believe. Grabbing the microphone, he stood on that stage, crossed his ankles and leaned forward, ready to say some things about himself and give an acceptance speech.
“First and foremost, I wanna thank God for bringin’ me a mighty long way. I uh… I also wanna thank all of y’all that helped make this happen… the fans, you did this!” The swarm of people lit up with applause and whistles. “I want to thank my family and my fiancée, Tapestry LeBlanc, too. I’m just a boy from Sulphur, Louisiana. Most folks, I gather, don’t even know where that’s at. I come from humble beginnings. I was blessed to have encouragin’ parents who always believed in my talents, and I had friends around me that cared. Bein’ in a place like Nawlins meant I was around brilliant musicians night ’nd day… people from all walks of life. Due to livin’ in a place with so much musical genius, it helped keep me goin’, it was encouraging. I want to thank each and every one of you who nominated me tonight and I… I cannot even fully express myself I am so moved by it all.” He held up one of the awards in the air and waved it. “Thank you all so much!” The crowd cheered as he returned back to his seat. The ceremony continued, and soon, it was time for the dinner party that followed immediately afterward.
The place was swarming with people, and the tables were beautifully decorated with miniature guitars and microphones. An ice swan was displayed in the middle of colorful fruits and a buffet with all the trimmings was presented, making the whole experience classy and surreal. Cain had never been to such a thing before, and was rather impressed with the live jazz band on the stage. He, Tapestry and his mother took their seats. They ate and laughed, carried on for a while, enjoying their time. Cain realized it was rather quiet, besides the chatter of those in the room while they dined and chatted. He looked at the stage where the musicians were playing, and noticed that they’d taken a break – had vacated their posts. His eyes narrowed on that stage, and he moved his napkin from his lap to the table, seized his trophies then made his way to it.
Grabbing the microphone in his hand, he tapped it a few times.
“Excuse me… is this thing on?” After a few seconds he was pleased that all heads were turned towards him and he’d promptly gained the attention of the crowd. “I been sittin’ here thinking tonight, and there are a few things I wanna say that I didn’t have time to really get into earlier during the ceremony. I hope y’all don’t mind, would that be alright?” he smiled. The crowd cheered and urged him on. “Alright then, that’s mighty kind of you. Well, I’m one of the lucky ones, you know? Funny thing though, this sudden climb to fame can be deceiving. See, you never know the battles somebody has, or what it took for dem to go from the valley to the top of the mountain.”
Many heads bowed in agreement.
“This is like uh dream come true… ’cause ain’t no way I’m even ’sposed to be here, talkin’ to y’all. They say comedians are the saddest people on Earth, and that musicians who sing love songs are heartbroken. I ’spose that is true for many. I can only speak for myself though.”
He placed his hand against his heart and took a deep breath, then continued.
“See, I ain’t ashamed of it no more, but a lot of my songs, even the happy ones, come from a dark place. I want my story out there, so I can help some of these young folks out here strugglin’ wit’ no voice. I can be yo’ voice, man… ’cause I struggled, too. I have what is known as chronic depression.”
He saw a few eyes widen. “I’m not trying to be a downer during dinner, but this is important. I want my fans to really know what I’ve been through and understand that if I can make it out of a bad situation, so can they. Most people with this problem go their whole lives undiagnosed. They end up dead or in some institution, or they try ’nd cope by harmin’ themselves in the long run. In the past, it has caused me to alienate myself and to act out… do self-destructive things. Now, I was always a loner, but this made it all the worse. No matter how damn good I was at singin’ and playin’ the guitar, hell, even carpentry work, sometimes I still didn’t feel good enough. Rather than just admit that and tryna get to the bottom of it, I’d go out and get drunk—try to be the life of the party.
“Or I’d go sleep wit’ a bunch of women, play wit’ their hearts… make ’em think it was just me and them against the world when really, I was just usin’ them and they were in a long line of many. Not because I didn’t respect ’em, but because I didn’t respect myself. It took me a long ass time, pardon me, a long time…” He put his hand up, trying to watch his language. “To get to this point, to stop lyin’ to myself and to other people. Music keeps savin’ my life.”
He smiled sadly as he looked out into the crowd of people. Folks appeared to be holding onto his every word, their meals now an afterthought. It wasn’t like him to be so open, so forthcoming, but he felt it deep in his soul—a need to purge, to truly let his friends and everyone else know the past that he was leaving behind.
“To stop bein’ indolent when things got too hard… draggin’ my feet… that was a challenge, too. Everybody in this room is created for greatness. God don’t make no junk, but we can choose if we wanna act like trash or class. The choice is ultimately ours.”
More applause broke out. “My music is my voice. I sing about love, fun times, bad times and the times to come. I sing about sex—everything from makin’ love to a beautiful woman that you’d die for to that very first kiss with a stranger in the rain. I sing about death, heartache, and alcohol, too. I sing about it all… ’cause I know about it all. It’s my truth.”
He tapped his chest with his fingertips and smiled at Tapestry as she blew him a kiss.
“And I sing about my mama… ’cause I’m a mama’s boy and proud of it.” A few chuckles came from the crowd. Tapestry grabbed his mother’s hand and squeezed it. Mama sat there, her face half covered with a napkin, looking proud. “My mama used to tell me, ‘Cain, with God, all things are possible.’ I didn’t believe her, ’cause I saw good folks who went to church every Sunday strugglin’ just to put food on the table while some other guy that was a murderer of some child would get a slap on the wrist and a measly fine. I didn’t believe ’er, ’cause I saw a homeless man who used to be a doctor, out on the street gettin’ spit on by folks when he’d ask for somethin’ to eat… all ’cause he had an emotional breakdown and nobody cared enough to try ’nd get him some help.
“I didn’t believe ’er, ’cause I was dyin’ inside, see? And nobody knew it but me. I know God… I see God when I look in the mirror, and I see God when I look at all of you.” He pointed out into the audience. “But God brought me back from the grave… said he wasn’t through with me yet.” He blinked a tear away. “I took a bunch of pills, ya see, washed it all down wit’ more alcohol than you can imagine, and I laid my ass on the bed, ready to meet my Maker. This happened a little over seven years ago. I wasn’t supposed to wake up, folks… I took enough to knock out three horses, I guarantee! But I did wake up. I was sick as a dog… but I was alive.”
He could hear his mother sniffling, and it broke his heart. He’d never told her that he’d tried to take his own life, but it needed to be said.
“All ’cause I couldn’t get over that hump… couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. I got help though, and my music improved. My outlook on life improved too and then I was mentally and emotionally healthy enough to be in a relationship with a woman who was deservin’ of me and I of her. I could finally give somebody not just a part of me, but all of me… and she’s sittin’ right at that table with my mama, makin’ me weak at the knees. I can’t even look at ’er for more than five seconds without smilin’.”
Many people out in the crowd ohhhed and awwwed. Some eyes landing on Tapestry as she blushed right before his eyes.
“She’s beautiful. She’s fair and just. She knows how to treat folks… Life ain’t fair though, is it baby?” She shook her head.
“You got all these people out here in this audience, here to celebrate music! To rejoice in sound. We’re not here to rejoice in hairstyles… we’re not here to rejoice in fashion, cars, shoe size, or weight…” He glared at Mr. Alexander who sat up front with a beverage in his hand, and watched the man’s smile slowly fade. “I want y’all to do me a favor. Come up here, baby!”
The crowd cheered, all with the exception of Mr. Alexander, when Tapestry popped up and joined him on the stage.
“I promise to not take much more of ya time, folks, but this is my baby… Tapestry LeBlanc.” More cheers ensued.
“We’re gettin’ married soon. I think I’m more excited about it than she is.” There was a burst of laughter from the mob as he smiled. “But anyway, Tapestry, my friends, is music in the flesh. She’s the reason why Mr. Spinely,” he said, pointing at the man who sat next to Alexander, “decided to lasso me in, take a chance on me. I humbly thank that man for doin’ that for me, ’specially when there are so many talented folks in the world.”
Mr. Spinely smiled and nodded, his eyes twinkling under the lights.
“But see, sometimes, there’s a wizard behind the curtain. See, I thought I was makin’ a deal with Mr. Spinely, who is a very good man, but he was only the figurehead.”
Murmurs began in the audience and Spinely’s smile faded now, too.
“But, I’d made a deal wit’ the Devil. See, I know good music, and the Devil does too, but the Devil don’t give a flyin’ you know what about talent. He just wanna crush the spirits of those behind the golden voices ’cause it’s fun for him. He always uses the weakest link to do this… the person the most easily to succumb to actin’ evil and selfish. The guy most likely to run after dubs instead of love. Oftentimes, that guy will think he is the biggest, but that’s just an illusion. He is the smallest, ’cause he ain’t got no vision and he let the Devil try ’nd use him… and he liked it.”
He glowered at Mr. Alexander, hating him with every fiber of his being.
“Now, I need an honest opinion, and you can be truthful with me. I want each and every one of you in here to hear this woman sing and tell me what you think.”
He thrust the microphone in Tapestry’s hands and the woman’s eyes bulged. She looked downright shocked, confused. “Go on… sing, songbird. Show these good folks what you got.”
She turned away from him, a nervous expression on her face. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Cain began to clap a slow beat with his hands, and she grinned wide as she caught the rhythm.
“I caaaaan’t stand the rain! Against my window…” she began.
His baby sounded just like Ann Peebles singing it, hitting those notes just right. People began to stand up and clap, rocking back and forth, whistling. She sang without music… without anything but her very own gifts from God. When she was finished, the crowd erupted in an applause so strong, it rocked the room. Some clanked their forks against their glasses in true appreciation.
“Thank you, baby.” He took the microphone away from her, kissed her cheek, and watched her walk away and reclaim her seat at the table as dessert was now being served. “That’s what I call music! That’s soul… from my mate. That’s real talent! Would you all like to hear her on my records?”
Applause broke out, and people screamed a ‘Hell yeah!’
“How ’bout she have her own albums. Would you like that, too?”
The crowd cheered even louder.
“I feel the same way you do. In fact, I feel so strongly about it, I’m gonna give all of these damn awards up ’til I get it!”
The audience stopped clapping abruptly as he removed them from the podium and placed his honors by his feet, as if they didn’t mean a damn thing to him anymore.
He glared out into the audience, meeting eyes with Mr. Alexander who looked like he just wanted to roll over and die. Cain kinda wished he would.
“Folks, it’s time to tell the truth, and nothin’ but the truth so help me God! I’ve made Nola Notes Studio more money than any of their first-time artists in history! My single, ‘Swamp King’, hit gold and I ain’t even on tour yet!” He put his finger in the air, his heart beating a mile a minute. “I’m a new jack, so people try to convince me that I need them more than they need me. I swear to God, on ere’thang, that I will go back to those damn tip jars in back alley, hole in the walls, stankin’ ass no name shacks in the middle of nowhere wit’ just me and my guitar beltin’ out homemade tunes ain’t nobody ever heard of, Mr. Dream Crusher Alexander, and not look back!”
Leaping off the stage, he marched towards the man, jetting his finger in his face. Cain could hear murmuring and whispering from the spectators, a worried energy surrounding him, but he paid it no mind. The man smiled nervously and looked about the room before resting eyes on him once again. Cain looked down on him like the scum that he was. He was tempted to spit on the bastard’s slice of chocolate cake.
“You told me in our last meetin’ that I was crazy… and you’d be right about that. Crazy enough to do somethin’ just like this! I fight for what I believe in, for what’s right. Spinely said me and my girl was on and you came in like a tornado and fucked it all up, said we was off! She still has a dream, and it ain’t about the money because she’s got plenty of that now… it’s the damn principle. I want what I agreed to from the get go, verbally on the phone wit’ Spinely… I want my original offer. You say you two are 50/50? Well so is me and my girl! Alexander… I warned you, you son of a bitch!”
Security began to approach him, but Spinely got to his feet and held up his hand, telling them it was all right.
“I ain’t gonna sock this man, get back.” Cain shouted at the security officers and rolled his eyes. “I ain’t lettin’ this motherfucker be the cause of me going to jail, won’t lay not one finger on him, you can best believe that ’cause I’ve got too much to lose. I got a message for you though, sir, special delivery! You thought you were off the hook, didn’t ya? You got comfortable, thought I’d forgotten about it. Thought I’d sell my soul just to make it. I ain’t forget nothin’… you hear me?! Like I was just gonna let that shit you’d done slide…I told you I’d be back for you and I meant it! I was just bidin’ my time. I don’t make no deals wit’ the Devil, I just learn to play his game better! Now the choice is yours. You get to keep me with no more problems—not another peep—and you get Tapestry, too. And let me tell you somethin’, whether she’s 30lbs lighter or heavier, you’ll take her, AS IS. She has lost a few pounds for herself, not to please you! A voice is weightless! Talent only knows about vocal scales, not the kind you stand on and numbers show up. Heart and soul floats! I want ’er singin’ my hooks!
“I want my baby to have ’er own career! She deserves it! She got some money and do you know all she still wants to do is sing?! Now that’s dedication. She could always just do it herself, iTunes and what not, but it’s the principle at this point! This is my woman, ya hear me?!” He pointed at her to make sure that bastard saw her face for what it was: beautiful, one of a kind. “She saved my goddamn life! Nursed my weary soul back to health… showed me how to love again. She keeps takin’ her lumps and bruises with a smile. Well, I ain’t as advanced and mature as her, ’cause I don’t.
“I ain’t as kind as she is. I’m bitter now and revved up on account of people like you—folks always tryna spoil the milk and get over. Don’t believe me? Listen real close to the songs I write. Those words ain’t comin’ from a calm man. They’re comin’ from a guy who smiles in ya face but is always plottin’. If you don’t see me, and I’m behind closed doors, alienated and away from the world like some crab under the sand, don’t believe all that time I’m down in there that I’m poutin’ and my brain ain’t turned on… No, sir! I’m plannin’ your demise! And when I re-emerge, these claws are sharpened and ready for battle!”
He got real close in Alexander’s face, and people drew quiet. You could hear a pin drop.
“Now you think about your options real good ’nd hard. All of these people will know that you practice weight discrimination for the talent… What are you teachin’ folks wit’ that practice? That only skinny women who can barely sing will be chosen? I know other places are doin’ the same thing you are, but you’re killin’ the music, man! I won’t let you kill rhythm and blues… I can’t sit by and watch. The people have chosen, and they want ’er, too. And just so it’s clear, I got enough money, ’tween me and her, to fight you in court now like you wouldn’t believe. Glad we could have this little conversation.”
He smiled big, tapped Alexander roughly on the shoulder and walked back onto the stage. The musicians were now standing there, their mouths open, not playing. Leaning down, he retrieved his awards, pressed them proudly to his chest, and took the microphone from off the ground.
“Thanks to all of you beautiful people for givin’ me a minute to get that all off my chest…”
The people looked around at one another, then, one by one, they began to stand up and clap. The claps turned into cheers. He looked into the audience at Tapestry and his mama. The two women were huddled up with smiles on their faces and tears in their eyes. He blinked away a few of his own.
He had no clue what was going to happen now. He suspected he’d be kicked out on his ass and get sued out the wazoo. But, either way, he was ready for the rewards or consequences of his behavior. A man had to do what a man had to do.
Life is just too short to not speak your truth… We’re gonna enjoy it… we’re gonna eat chocolate cake ’till we’re sick… we’re gonna write letters, take pictures and kiss our mamas… we’re gonna be happy to be either a thorn or the rose, because beauty and pain are songs of the soul, and they live side by side in the gardens of our hearts…