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  Well, at least I’m playing.

  I’m not playing for the people that I want to. I need a venue where I can try my hand at the music I really like, the music that I’m good at and the reason that I started playing in the first place. This is why I’m standing outside of my neighbor’s door, a girl whose name I don’t even know.

  “What do you want?” she said when she finally opened the door.

  Her threadbare Bob Marley t-shirt barely reached mid-thigh, exposing shapely caramel legs. She was also barefoot. I can’t imagine that she’d been sleeping at seven o’clock on Saturday night. I tried to peer over her shoulder into her apartment. Maybe she had a dude in there with her.

  “Well, I know we got off on a bad note-”

  “We didn’t get off to any note,” she interrupted. “What do you want...um...” she paused, trying to remember my name.

  “Aiden,” I answered before she could ask. “My name is Aiden.”

  “Okay.”

  “And this is the part where you tell me your name.”

  She rolled her eyes and kept the same expectant scowl on her face that she had since opening the door.

  “Or,” I grinned. “I can just keeping calling you one of the names I made up for you. Whatever works for you.”

  A hint of a small smile crossed her face.

  “And what have you been calling me?”

  “There’s a few, but I like the Girl Who Never Smiles.” I smiled back at her.

  “Funny.” She grinned a little this time.

  “Wow, that must’ve hurt,” I joked.

  “What?”

  “Stretching the muscles in your face like that.”

  “Whatever. Sunny,” she said. “My name’s Sunny.”

  I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. Her name is Sunny! How in the hell can this girl have a name that symbolizes bright and cheerful? Stormy, Moody; those are names that fit.

  “Are you laughing at my name?”

  I shook my head, still laughing though. “Not at all. Sunny suits you to a tee. I mean, you’re so bright and cheerful.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she joked back. “So Aiden, what can I do for you?”

  “You had mentioned that club, Rabbit’s, a few weeks ago. I went by there last weekend but they wouldn’t let me in. I was wondering, since you know the place so well, do you think you could get me in?”

  “Why wouldn’t they let you in?”

  I shrugged. “There’s a problem with my ID.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “It says that I’m nineteen,” I laughed.

  Sunny nodded. “That explains a lot. Kat’s real careful about not letting underage kids in that place. Give me twenty five dollars and a recent picture. I’ll hook you up with an ID that will get you in.”

  “That’s cool with me. My wallet’s in my apartment. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll stop by when I get ready to leave for work,” Sunny replied and stepped back into her apartment. “I leave at ten.”

  She shut the door and I laughed. Sunny. What a name.

  At exactly 9:58 p.m. Sunny knocked on my door. I moved my notebook to the side and opened the door. Sunny stepped into my apartment looking like a million bucks in her short black dress.

  “You’re right on time,” I noted.

  “What? Just because I’m black I’m supposed to be late all the time?”

  “No,” I answered quickly, not meaning to offend her. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Whatever. Do you have the stuff I need?”

  I handed her the money and my graduation picture.

  “Cute.” She slipped the picture and cash in her purse. “I’ll come by tomorrow with your ID.”

  She walked out without another word. She’s cute but her attitude is bad. I don’t like girls with bad attitudes. They’re too full of drama.

  I picked up my notebook and guitar and tried to finish the song I’d started earlier.

  When I’m writing a song, usually I hear the melody first. It’s harder for me to put words to my songs. I have tapes full of songs that are just instrumentals of me playing the guitar alone in my living room. When the words come to me, I’ll add them.

  I miss the days of playing with Paulie and Aaron. There’s something gratifying about playing with other people, but Paulie’s in school and I’ve lost touch with Aaron. It’s just me now, like it was back home.

  When I’m playing, sometimes I pretend there are other people in the room. I play along with CDs, especially instrumental versions of my favorite songs. I’ve recorded myself then played along with the recording. I record into loop pedals and play with that. Still, it’s ineffective in the long run. Maybe I’ll find some blues players that I can play with at this club Sunny told me about. That would be awesome.

  ****

  “Hey Aiden!” Kat called from across the musty and crowded bar.

  Rabbit’s is the most well known blues establishment in the Atlanta area. I’m sure the fire code only allows the small building to hold a hundred people. But on a Friday or Saturday, Kat can easily cram two hundred willing patrons inside.

  The place reminds me of an old school juke joint that I’ve seen in movies. It’s smoky and musty and loud. People are always fighting to be heard over whatever band is playing, but it rarely works. The louder people talk, the louder the band plays. I don’t understand what’s so important to have to talk over a blues band. Blues players play loud just because.

  Rabbit’s is the place that showcases the ‘Who’s Who’ of blues bands in Atlanta. As I soon learned, you’re nobody if you haven’t played a full set on the small stage at Rabbit’s or had a plate of Kat’s infamous Southern cuisine and a Sweetwater beer shoved into your hands by the owner herself.

  I’ve been coming here every weekend since Sunny gave me my fake ID, about three months now. After my third visit, I had the opportunity to meet the legendary Kat Mays. Kat is big and boisterous. Everything about Kat is big: big boobs, big butt, big mouth, big hair, big personality. Rabbit’s has been owned by her family since before she was even thought about, or so she says. I fell in love with her as soon as I met her.

  The first thing that she did when she saw me sitting at a table, nursing a beer, was stalk over to my table and order me to move.

  “Boy, if you don’t move your skinny ass over to the bar. My tables aren’t for people who ain’t eatin’,” were her first words to me. She didn’t have to tell me twice. Every time I came in, I went straight for the bar.

  The second time she noticed me, I was just sitting at the bar watching the band. All night, I felt her suspicious eyes on me. When I finally left, she cornered me in the parking lot. She asked me why I always came to her place alone. She thought I was a cop. I assured her I wasn’t; that I just like the blues and I really like Rabbit’s. After that, every time she sees me, she calls for me to come sit with her.

  I crossed the room to where Kat was sitting with a familiar face…Sunny. I rolled my eyes when I saw my neighbor. Our relationship hasn’t gotten any better. She still ignores me and I do my best to avoid her.

  “What’s up Miss K,” I reached out to give my favorite woman in the world a big hug. Then I glanced at Sunny who was scowling as usual.

  “Damn girl, do you ever smile?”

  Kat laughed loudly. “Boy, I’ve been sayin’ that shit for years! You must know my niece very well!”

  “He doesn’t know me at all,” Sunny grumbled. “We just live in the same building.”

  “She’s your niece?” I asked. “I could have saved twenty-five bucks if she had told me that.”

  “Yeah, she’s the ID wiz,” Kat agreed. “As soon as I saw yours, I knew that you knew Sunny. I can recognize her handiwork a mile away. You hungry, baby?”

  I nodded and Kat laughed again. “I should have known. This boy is always hungry!”

  “That’s because your food is so good.”

  “That’s my boy, so charming.” Kat
patted my arm and gave up her premium seat. “I’ll go get you something to eat.”

  I sat next to Sunny. She frowned harder and moved her chair a few inches away from mine.

  “What have you done to my aunt?”

  “Nothing. Why do you think I did something to her?”

  “I should have known that the white boy she’s always talking about was you.”

  “And you have a problem with that because…?”

  Sunny turned up her nose. “I don’t. I don’t care what you do.”

  Those were the last words of hers that I allowed myself to hear, choosing to turn my attention to the band instead. They were pretty good. My fingers ached to get on the stage with them.

  I have yet to grace the stage at Rabbit’s even though I’ve been coming here for months. No one here knows that I can play because I’m a little intimidated by this crowd. They can be more judgmental than any Apollo crowd. I’ve seen them boo musicians right off the stage. I do not want to know what the resounding sound of two hundred people booing feels like.

  Kat brought me a plate of collard greens, corn bread, and two fried pork chops. Usually, only the bands get free food, but Kat adores me so she feeds me. She’s always mothering me and trying to “fatten me up”. Because of her, I had to join a gym.

  While I ate, I ignored the conversation between Sunny and her aunt. In fact, I ignored Sunny all together. Instead I focused my attention on a woman who was staring at me from the bar. I abandoned my food and walked over to the bar, resting my arm around the waist of the woman. She was light-skinned with long wavy hair and the tightest red dress I’ve ever seen.

  “Hey gorgeous,” I greeted her. “What’s your name?”

  “Tonya. What’s yours?”

  “I’m Aiden.”

  “Aiden, honey, you look like a baby. What you doin’ up in here?”

  I smiled. I’ve never been hit on by so many older women in my life until I started coming to Rabbit’s. Most of them are married and like to flirt with “Kat’s boy”. Some of them are simply drunk off their asses and don’t know what the hell they’re doing. These are the ones that I like. Case in point…Tonya.

  “I’m doing the same thing you are, honey. Eating, drinking, and listening to some good music.”

  Tonya smiled and gave me a once over. Her glassy eyes and sweaty shine on her forehead told me everything I needed to know.

  “Well, what are you doing after you finish eating and drinking?” she slurred.

  I tightened my arm around her waist so she wouldn’t fall off the barstool when I pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear.

  “Hopefully you.”

  Tonya giggled like a drunk teenager even though she is clearly closer to mid-thirties. I casually slid a piece of paper with my address on it into her hand. If she shows up, we’ll have a good time. If she doesn’t, I don’t care. I’ll go home and play my guitar until I fall asleep. But she’ll show. Unless they’re married, they always do.

  Satisfied, I went back to my food. Kat glanced over at the bar then at me.

  “Boy, what did I tell you about the women in this place? You gon fuck around and get caught up with one of these desperate bitches. That one ain’t married, is she?”

  “I didn’t see a ring,” I answered.

  “Did you ask?”

  I laughed and almost choked on my food. “I looked, Miss K. She’s not wearing a ring.”

  “That don’t mean nothin’,” Kat huffed. “My first husband, God rest his soul, was too broke to get me a ring. But we was still married.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll ask her if she’s married.”

  “Before you sleep with her this time, Aiden. You know I don’t like drama in my place,” Kat warned.

  “I know, I know.”

  “Don’t tell me like you like black girls,” Sunny commented sarcastically. “Or do you only like the ones who look like white girls?”

  “I like black girls. I just don’t like you,” I fired back.

  “I don’t care if you don’t like me. I don’t like you either.”

  “Why are you worried about who I’m screwin’ then?”

  “I could give a rat’s ass about who you screw,” Sunny stated calmly. “You can fuck every single light-skinned whore in here. Ain’t none of my business.”

  “Then why are you asking?” I grinned.

  “Oh my goodness!” Kat yelled. “You two are like oil and vinegar, sittin’ here arguing like an old married couple. Do I need to get a switch?”

  I laughed. But Sunny didn’t. Of course. I think someone surgically removed her sense of humor and replaced it with a permanent scowl and bad attitude.

  “I’m about to go,” she said. “I’ll see you later, Auntie.” She got up and started to leave.

  “Get home safe,” I smiled back at her.

  “Asshole,” Sunny muttered, probably thinking I couldn’t hear her.

  “Bitch,” I replied.

  Sunny spun around on the heels of her black strappy stilettos and slapped me in the back of my head…HARD!

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I’m not a bitch,” she hollered over the noise of the band and crowd.

  “Then stop acting like one!”

  “Both of y’all shut the hell up!” Kat yelled. “Sunny, sit your ass back down. You said you wanted to see your cousin play and his set is about to start. Aiden, you stop messin’ with her and go get me a drink! Y’all done got my pressure up!”

  I smirked at Sunny while she sulked and sat back down. I hurried to the bar and came back with Miss K’s gin and tonic. I sat back down and sipped my beer, anxious to see if Sunny was going to kick me under the table since she was acting like a kid anyway with that damn scowl on her face. She didn’t. But she didn’t stop glaring at me. I have no idea what her problem is.

  The band finished their last song and the crowd cheered, an obvious good sign for the opening act. The band leader, an older guitar player, stepped to the microphone.

  “The Players’ ain’t quite ready-” The crowed started to groan and boo.

  “Hold on, hold on now,” he said. “They gon be out in a few minutes. We’re just gonna jam until they come out. Nothin’ special, just a little blues jam, ya know what I’m sayin’. So if anyone out there is feelin’ the vibe, come on up and grab a guitar. We can fit ‘bout three more people on this here stage.”

  My hands were itching to get up there but I stayed in my seat, eying the stage longingly.

  “I think he’s talking about you,” Sunny suddenly sneered.

  I gritted my teeth and shook my head at her. Now was not the time. Why the hell did she have to open her mouth?

  “Oh come on,” she continued to taunt me. “You’re a blues player, right? Isn’t that what you said? Show us what you got.”

  “Not tonight,” I answered with a glare in my eye that I wished would kill her.

  “Are you or are you not a blues player?” she heckled. “Or is that just noise I hear coming out of your apartment?”

  Kat looked at me with a puzzled expression. “You play, baby? What you play?”

  “I play guitar,” I answered, still glaring at Sunny who had sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest and an irritating smug expression on her face. I was pissed but I wasn’t about to deny my own talent.

  “Oh! I gots to hear this!” Kat bellowed. “Go on, get on up there boy. I wanna see what you can do.”

  “Yeah, Aiden,” Sunny smirked. “Let’s see what you can do.”

  I pushed my chair back and stood up, now on a mission to show this silly girl how dumb she is. All I thought about as I walked towards the stage was that in a few minutes, I’d be wiping that dumb smirk off of Sunny’s face.

  “Oh, what the hell is this?” I heard a lady yell from the crowd.

  “Oh no he didn’t,” was another comment as I stepped onto the stage.

  I expected the jeers, which is the main reason I haven’t pushed Kat for
a chance to play. I’m not ready for this shit. Thanks to Sunny, now I don’t have a choice.

  “What you doin’, white boy?” the band leader asked when I started to plug in a brown guitar similar to my own.

  “This is a jam session, right? You said got room for one more.”

  He laughed. “You jammin’ with us?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “Or you can jam with me. I don’t care.”

  The drummer over heard us and started to laugh a little too loudly for my liking.

  “Oh, let the boy play,” he shouted. “He looks serious.”

  “Okay, white boy who plays the blues,” the band leader laughed. “We gon jam with you. What you wanna play?”

  He said this like me being up there on stage was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. I’d show him too. I looked over to Kat’s table. She was smiling at me anxiously but her niece was still watching me with that irritating smirk on her face.

  “Gimmie a little Ray Charles,” I told the drummer. “Something like I Got a Woman.”

  Nothing says blues better than Ray Charles.

  The drummer started an up-tempo beat. I tightened the strap of the guitar across my shoulder and stepped up to the microphone. For the first time since I’ve been coming to Rabbit’s the crowd was completely quiet. If it wasn’t for the drums, Kat would have been able to hear the sound of her cooks chopping vegetables in the kitchen.

  Everyone in the building was staring at me.

  I plucked a few strings to the drummer’s beat while I tried to remember the words to the song and if I could really capture Ray Charles’ magic on the keys with the guitar I was holding.

  “Come on white boy! Show us what you got!” I heard someone yell.

  I couldn’t stall any longer...so I closed my eyes and started singing

  When I opened my eyes, the crowd was singing and bopping their heads the beat. The song is catchy and easy but the point is that no one was booing!

  The band leader stepped on the volume pedal to turn my amplifier up. He nodded at me to keep playing. So I did. When I looked at Sunny, her wide eyed shocked expression was enough to get me really into the song.

  Instead of singing I played the next verse, making my guitar sing the words instead. The entire club, except Sunny, rose to their feet, clapping and yelling.