No MOre budgeting
NO more past or present
This is the future
Maybe the view of roaring waves
angles as cobana boys
serving you drinks with umbrellas
while brass and strings are piped in somehow outside
Maybe the creator will be a lifeguard always on duty
some will be on the pier fishing for our meals
a paradise without headaches poverty or social class
rent is free
work is optional
no rage or anger
bread will be broken
with an endless flow of wine
our energy will be like a child's
no pain with our new bodies
THrills will be on the level
of hitting your 3,000th hit in the majors
or after hitting a homerun
contentment will be
beyond the limits of this earth
we would never have to rest
because we would never tire
but there is a king size bed for all
However, the road is narrow
room for all
but most spaces will not be filled
your possessions here will not be there
and you will not have the trials of this earth
because we will be face to face with our dreams
on an infinite vacation
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
anger freewrite
Ephesians 4:26 - And "don't sin by letting anger control you." Don't let the sun go down while you are still angry.
Some of you hate the fact that this is how I write now. I consider the bible and devotion to be a healthy addiction and sometimes I need some direction. The bible is a blueprint, and it still apply to man's sins today.
Christians aren't perfect. We may feel anger for the simple clique that life didn't turn out the way we wanted or because our jobs do not pay what we think we are worth.
I let my anger get the best of me one night. It was Friday, and I was drinking at a bar in Roanoke.
I wasn't in a bad mood, and I would like to think that I don't have a chip on my shoulder. I do value my own personal space rather it is physical space, mental or emotional space.
If anything I was glad I was out with my brother and sister-in-law. We had just seen a very good ragae band at the coffee pot.
At the bar we were drinking near the pool tables when this guy came up to us wearing all black and he had a turtle neck on. He also had a red scarf which I thought was odd when he had a turtle neck. NOt to mention it wasn't that cold outside.
He was talking to my brother and sister-in-law. He wasn't taking the hint that my brother and sister-in-law didn't want anything to do with this particular jerk.
I didn't hear the conversation, because the music was so loud, but at one point he slid up the arm of his turtle neck to show my brother and sister-in-law where he had been shot in the arm.
I thought he was flexing for my sister-in-law. I wanted him to leave.
I was smoking so I said,"YOu know what you need? You need a cigarette burn right beside it."
I didn't burn him I thought anyone could tell that I was joking.
He took my wrist and tried to use martial arts move with my arm. I thought he was trying to break it. I was stronger then him, however, and I bent my arm back how it was suppose to be which burned the piece of skin connecting his thumb with his pointer finger with my cigarette.
I think I apologised, and then he left.
I started thinking about how I was jumped and duct taped in the army. I concluded he was getting his friends together and I would probably be jumped when I left.
When I usually go out I always try to find an easy exit. I usually keep my distance towards the drunk that can't take a hint. When I go out in the westend they are usually bouncers. I figure if there were bouncers at this bar it would have stopped the minute he tried twisting my arm.
The jerk came back. He started talking to my brother again, and that was when I said,"Why don't you just leave my brother alone."
With a nod I think my brother told me things were okay. Then the jerk came to me with his hand out for a shake.
He said,"I know your sorry for being a dick."
Suddenly the lights in my brain went out. I pushed him. I thought it wasn't a strong push just enough to let him know to give me my space. I was wrong. He went sliding across the floor to where people were sitting at the bar. A girl at the bar lifted her leg up so she would step on his head. I hesitated but then found myself on top him with a right hook to his forehead.
The fight was immediatley stopped. MY brother pulled me off him with such strength that I was now intemidated of my brother. The bartender said, "I want them both out."
I started to leave on my own. REalizing my hat was off my head I went back to retrieve it. I got it, put it on my head, and left. While I was doing this I heard the jerk say terrified,"He's coming back."
The bartender answered,"He is just getting his hat."
OUtisde I walked to my brother's car not feeling glory or excitement. I felt a heavy weight of guilt. This was when I realized I never been on this end of a fight before. Gran it the guy was taller then me but I didn't feel the need to celebrate. I felt awful.
I walked to the cup cake shop and looked in. My nieces birthday was going to be there next week. Even the outside of the cup cake shop looked like it was made of sugar and it could be eaten and enjoyed.
Then my brother drove by with my sister-in-law. My brother wave me over to come across the street. My feet stepped heavy. My shoulders slouched because the weight on them were to heavy to carry.
I got in my brother's car, and we drove back to his house. He was very upset, even that is an understatement.
To sum up, he told me I was a guess in his town, and he liked going to the bar and he could be kicked out by affliation. That made him even more mad.
Some more words were exchanged throughout the night that I would rather not go into. I don't consider myself a fighter, and I still feel terrible.
The next day I appologise to my brother, but I don't think it is enough.
Some of you hate the fact that this is how I write now. I consider the bible and devotion to be a healthy addiction and sometimes I need some direction. The bible is a blueprint, and it still apply to man's sins today.
Christians aren't perfect. We may feel anger for the simple clique that life didn't turn out the way we wanted or because our jobs do not pay what we think we are worth.
I let my anger get the best of me one night. It was Friday, and I was drinking at a bar in Roanoke.
I wasn't in a bad mood, and I would like to think that I don't have a chip on my shoulder. I do value my own personal space rather it is physical space, mental or emotional space.
If anything I was glad I was out with my brother and sister-in-law. We had just seen a very good ragae band at the coffee pot.
At the bar we were drinking near the pool tables when this guy came up to us wearing all black and he had a turtle neck on. He also had a red scarf which I thought was odd when he had a turtle neck. NOt to mention it wasn't that cold outside.
He was talking to my brother and sister-in-law. He wasn't taking the hint that my brother and sister-in-law didn't want anything to do with this particular jerk.
I didn't hear the conversation, because the music was so loud, but at one point he slid up the arm of his turtle neck to show my brother and sister-in-law where he had been shot in the arm.
I thought he was flexing for my sister-in-law. I wanted him to leave.
I was smoking so I said,"YOu know what you need? You need a cigarette burn right beside it."
I didn't burn him I thought anyone could tell that I was joking.
He took my wrist and tried to use martial arts move with my arm. I thought he was trying to break it. I was stronger then him, however, and I bent my arm back how it was suppose to be which burned the piece of skin connecting his thumb with his pointer finger with my cigarette.
I think I apologised, and then he left.
I started thinking about how I was jumped and duct taped in the army. I concluded he was getting his friends together and I would probably be jumped when I left.
When I usually go out I always try to find an easy exit. I usually keep my distance towards the drunk that can't take a hint. When I go out in the westend they are usually bouncers. I figure if there were bouncers at this bar it would have stopped the minute he tried twisting my arm.
The jerk came back. He started talking to my brother again, and that was when I said,"Why don't you just leave my brother alone."
With a nod I think my brother told me things were okay. Then the jerk came to me with his hand out for a shake.
He said,"I know your sorry for being a dick."
Suddenly the lights in my brain went out. I pushed him. I thought it wasn't a strong push just enough to let him know to give me my space. I was wrong. He went sliding across the floor to where people were sitting at the bar. A girl at the bar lifted her leg up so she would step on his head. I hesitated but then found myself on top him with a right hook to his forehead.
The fight was immediatley stopped. MY brother pulled me off him with such strength that I was now intemidated of my brother. The bartender said, "I want them both out."
I started to leave on my own. REalizing my hat was off my head I went back to retrieve it. I got it, put it on my head, and left. While I was doing this I heard the jerk say terrified,"He's coming back."
The bartender answered,"He is just getting his hat."
OUtisde I walked to my brother's car not feeling glory or excitement. I felt a heavy weight of guilt. This was when I realized I never been on this end of a fight before. Gran it the guy was taller then me but I didn't feel the need to celebrate. I felt awful.
I walked to the cup cake shop and looked in. My nieces birthday was going to be there next week. Even the outside of the cup cake shop looked like it was made of sugar and it could be eaten and enjoyed.
Then my brother drove by with my sister-in-law. My brother wave me over to come across the street. My feet stepped heavy. My shoulders slouched because the weight on them were to heavy to carry.
I got in my brother's car, and we drove back to his house. He was very upset, even that is an understatement.
To sum up, he told me I was a guess in his town, and he liked going to the bar and he could be kicked out by affliation. That made him even more mad.
Some more words were exchanged throughout the night that I would rather not go into. I don't consider myself a fighter, and I still feel terrible.
The next day I appologise to my brother, but I don't think it is enough.
Monday, February 13, 2012
To Drake, Reid, Tatum
It is about 50 degrees here. It was so nice I was able to go on my mile walk. I usually walk on the street behind my apartment. As I was walking, I noticed a boy. He was probably in middle school so I guess he was in your age range.
THis boy had a trash bag and he was cleaning up trash. I know it was probably a school project and he would normally not be doing this, but I thanked him and continued my walk. While I was walking I notcied the trash too. HIs act inspired me to pick up cigarette butts and other kinds of trash. When I came back to him I thanked him again and I put the trash I had collected in his bag.
Now adults would be cincal about this kind of thing. Cinical is being negative. They would probably say, "I would pick it up but someone would just put more trash on the ground." Some of us are different. That boy inspired me to bring a Kroger bag out when I go walking again. Do you see what one good deed does to people. YOu might not be able to see the result but something will happen.
So on a nice Spring day, when your homework is done or you have a good start on it, go on a walk with a kroger bag and just see what people put on the ground. You probably can't pick it all up, but it is a start. People will see it and either thank you or do something nice for their community. I don't know it is a theory.
You guys mean alot to me and I love all three of you.
THis boy had a trash bag and he was cleaning up trash. I know it was probably a school project and he would normally not be doing this, but I thanked him and continued my walk. While I was walking I notcied the trash too. HIs act inspired me to pick up cigarette butts and other kinds of trash. When I came back to him I thanked him again and I put the trash I had collected in his bag.
Now adults would be cincal about this kind of thing. Cinical is being negative. They would probably say, "I would pick it up but someone would just put more trash on the ground." Some of us are different. That boy inspired me to bring a Kroger bag out when I go walking again. Do you see what one good deed does to people. YOu might not be able to see the result but something will happen.
So on a nice Spring day, when your homework is done or you have a good start on it, go on a walk with a kroger bag and just see what people put on the ground. You probably can't pick it all up, but it is a start. People will see it and either thank you or do something nice for their community. I don't know it is a theory.
You guys mean alot to me and I love all three of you.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
What do you do when the exit is blocked?
I had been going to Mcguire Veteran's hospital since about 2005. My first time I had to call to get directions. 64 east to downtown expressway, take downtown exit, pay the toll, take 95 south then take the Maury Street exit, and after that all you have to do is follow the blue signs to get to the hospital. It was routine.
Last TUesday, I had to get my injection. Obviously I had memorize the trip down and thought it was all routine. I was on 95 south awaiting the maury street exit, but something was off. There were road flares and a big sign saying road work on the exit. I couldn't take the Maury street exit.
I took the next exit which said Mcguire Veteran's Hospital. Only this time there were no blue signs to guide me, and I was in apart of a neighborhood I wasn't to familar with. Would I get my injection which was medication I despartely needed? I drove back and finally found the MAury street and then I followed the blue signs to the V.A.
I got to Mcguire five minutes after my appointment was suppose to start. Another problem arose. The vallet had cones up because the lot was full. THere were no parking spaces. I drove all the way to parking lot 11A. I found a space inbetween two parking spaces. In the middle of these parking spaces was a median so if you park there which I did. The rear of your car would be out in the open. I needed my injection.
I was fifteen minutes late when I arrived. I didn't get into trouble. The receptionist just told me to go back where I had to wait in line for my injection.
What do we do when our exits are blocked? What do we do when something or someone spoils what we take for gran it? THere is no medication when life happens.
When I was 20 I wanted to be a journalist. I went to vcu, and I liked the idea of writing and getting paid for it. I was also going through the early symptoms of a mental illness. At the time I didn't know what was going on, this is just me looking back.
I later dropped out of vcu, and became a pre-school teacher's aid. I was basically joining the family buisness which was teaching. I went to school for it at community college.
A friend of my roomate came into town. I guess he was inbetween goals like I was. He told me how he saw an army recruitor. He wanted to be a combat engineer.
A combat engineer locates mines or i.e.ds. I thought it sounded exciting.
During my freetime I decided to see my army recruitor. I was nervous. 9-11 was still fresh in everyone's mind and maybe I was running away from something.
I signed the line and was later off to basic training and ait for calvary scout. Then I was to Fort Irwin California in the mojave desert. I experience a severe mental breakdown and recieved a medical discharge.
I now get disablity. I can write whenever I want to.
When life happens the best thing we can do is react. Too bad none of us can predict the future. LIfe can leave a sting like a shot in your arm.
When I got back from the military it was a tough transistion. My parents didn't know what to do with me, and I didn't know what to do with myself. It was so bad that I was even homeless.
Who was there to answer a prayer, Jesus. I prayed for God to take me out of this. It took time but he did. Who is Jesus to me? Jesus is a rebel. WHen he was on earth (and I am sure he still does this) he questioned religious instittuions, and the government. He bought in a prostitute and a crazy man. That rights he accepts people who for the most part have been rejected by the world. Christianity isn't necssarily kakis and a tie. It turns your doom and gloom into a feeling of satisfaction. Here I am schizophrenic and I am actually satisfied. There was a time when I thought that would never happen. Can you say you are satisfied?
Last TUesday, I had to get my injection. Obviously I had memorize the trip down and thought it was all routine. I was on 95 south awaiting the maury street exit, but something was off. There were road flares and a big sign saying road work on the exit. I couldn't take the Maury street exit.
I took the next exit which said Mcguire Veteran's Hospital. Only this time there were no blue signs to guide me, and I was in apart of a neighborhood I wasn't to familar with. Would I get my injection which was medication I despartely needed? I drove back and finally found the MAury street and then I followed the blue signs to the V.A.
I got to Mcguire five minutes after my appointment was suppose to start. Another problem arose. The vallet had cones up because the lot was full. THere were no parking spaces. I drove all the way to parking lot 11A. I found a space inbetween two parking spaces. In the middle of these parking spaces was a median so if you park there which I did. The rear of your car would be out in the open. I needed my injection.
I was fifteen minutes late when I arrived. I didn't get into trouble. The receptionist just told me to go back where I had to wait in line for my injection.
What do we do when our exits are blocked? What do we do when something or someone spoils what we take for gran it? THere is no medication when life happens.
When I was 20 I wanted to be a journalist. I went to vcu, and I liked the idea of writing and getting paid for it. I was also going through the early symptoms of a mental illness. At the time I didn't know what was going on, this is just me looking back.
I later dropped out of vcu, and became a pre-school teacher's aid. I was basically joining the family buisness which was teaching. I went to school for it at community college.
A friend of my roomate came into town. I guess he was inbetween goals like I was. He told me how he saw an army recruitor. He wanted to be a combat engineer.
A combat engineer locates mines or i.e.ds. I thought it sounded exciting.
During my freetime I decided to see my army recruitor. I was nervous. 9-11 was still fresh in everyone's mind and maybe I was running away from something.
I signed the line and was later off to basic training and ait for calvary scout. Then I was to Fort Irwin California in the mojave desert. I experience a severe mental breakdown and recieved a medical discharge.
I now get disablity. I can write whenever I want to.
When life happens the best thing we can do is react. Too bad none of us can predict the future. LIfe can leave a sting like a shot in your arm.
When I got back from the military it was a tough transistion. My parents didn't know what to do with me, and I didn't know what to do with myself. It was so bad that I was even homeless.
Who was there to answer a prayer, Jesus. I prayed for God to take me out of this. It took time but he did. Who is Jesus to me? Jesus is a rebel. WHen he was on earth (and I am sure he still does this) he questioned religious instittuions, and the government. He bought in a prostitute and a crazy man. That rights he accepts people who for the most part have been rejected by the world. Christianity isn't necssarily kakis and a tie. It turns your doom and gloom into a feeling of satisfaction. Here I am schizophrenic and I am actually satisfied. There was a time when I thought that would never happen. Can you say you are satisfied?
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Theory (probably heard this before)
Charles Dickens turned 200. When I was a kid I read Oliver Twist with the help of my mom. The book was big print and it had pictures to go along with the story. I would read some and then she would read some.
When I got to the end, I was so excited, afterall that book was pretty thick.
I wish I could read more now, because of my mental health diagnosis it is hard for me to focus. I can get by reading the bible. I also get my news online if not NPR. I sometimes go on the New York Times website or since I follow alot of news sources on twitter I get my news there.
As adults I don't think we get the same excitement from finishing a thick book. We may run out and tell our friends or just feel satisfaction, but it isn't as intense as when we were a kid.
The reason I say this is because I don't have any kids but I do my best to remember what it was like so I can relate to the youth of today. In the words of Neil Young, "Old man look at my life I'm alot like you were..."
If you can remember how you felt as a kid rather it is you being read to you actually reading the book that's a good thing. Wouldn't you like to be apart of that again. MOst of you have heard it before but read or be read to by a kid. Youth can sometimes be contagious.
When I got to the end, I was so excited, afterall that book was pretty thick.
I wish I could read more now, because of my mental health diagnosis it is hard for me to focus. I can get by reading the bible. I also get my news online if not NPR. I sometimes go on the New York Times website or since I follow alot of news sources on twitter I get my news there.
As adults I don't think we get the same excitement from finishing a thick book. We may run out and tell our friends or just feel satisfaction, but it isn't as intense as when we were a kid.
The reason I say this is because I don't have any kids but I do my best to remember what it was like so I can relate to the youth of today. In the words of Neil Young, "Old man look at my life I'm alot like you were..."
If you can remember how you felt as a kid rather it is you being read to you actually reading the book that's a good thing. Wouldn't you like to be apart of that again. MOst of you have heard it before but read or be read to by a kid. Youth can sometimes be contagious.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Issues
I was drinking at a bar in North Myrtle Beach. I was sitting at the bar drinking a beer and watching an NBa game. To my left was a lesbian couple. They were spending alot of their money on those touch screen video games that are at the bar. They were having a blast, and inbewteen sips of their drinks they were flirting with the bartender who was female. The bartender was infact cute.
One of the women was standing up so I offered my chair. She told me she was fine and she went back to her game.
NOw the bible says a man shouldn't lay with another man. It also says LOve thy neighbor as yourself, and it says several times not to judge.
I didn't mention that to my right was a drunk cussing out his girlfriend on his cell phone.
Who do you think I would rather hangout with. Personally it would be the lesbians. I occassionally looked over to my left to get a word in but they were having so much fun with that video game that I decided not to disturb them.
Being a imperfect person why should I judge. Do you actually think that your bashing a gay couple will make the world a better place? DO you think questioning their life style makes yours that much better?
I remember my first times experiencing a gay couple was when I was just a kid. There names were Chris and GAry. They lived together and they were always nice to me, but as a kid I didn't understand.
On a nice day they would be in their speedo laying in their lawn chairs getting sun. During a block party Gary wanted to throw the football with me and some kids. He threw like a girl and when he followed through he had a chicken wing. They were nice though. Remember the golden rule, do onto others...
I don't consider myself liberal or conservative. Definitly not conservative and when I think of liberal, I think of those film makers who go down to the south a pick the dumbest person and decide to make a documentary. I could introduce them to some of the greatest people on earth.
another issue... We had just entered Richmond when NPR was talking about the new overturning of the one gun a month bill in the state of Virginia. I don't own a gun. I don't want a gun. I did my best to hear the whole issue to try to understand both sides. A politician said under the old law, since it was a law, a person would have had 240 guns. Why would you need that many? Maybe you want to start an army or something I don't know. The story also talked about gun trafficing. Apprarently, people from up north like New York would buy their guns in Va and then commit a crime in New York. Also people are trying to pass having a concealed weapon and not having a permit. As far as that law goes, think about owning car. You need a driver's license, and also registration. I can't say that I am pro gun. THose kinda problems could be solved if the gun own would grow a pare and buy a punching bag and boxing gloves. Try punching a bag. Why don't you learn how to fight. Fools
One of the women was standing up so I offered my chair. She told me she was fine and she went back to her game.
NOw the bible says a man shouldn't lay with another man. It also says LOve thy neighbor as yourself, and it says several times not to judge.
I didn't mention that to my right was a drunk cussing out his girlfriend on his cell phone.
Who do you think I would rather hangout with. Personally it would be the lesbians. I occassionally looked over to my left to get a word in but they were having so much fun with that video game that I decided not to disturb them.
Being a imperfect person why should I judge. Do you actually think that your bashing a gay couple will make the world a better place? DO you think questioning their life style makes yours that much better?
I remember my first times experiencing a gay couple was when I was just a kid. There names were Chris and GAry. They lived together and they were always nice to me, but as a kid I didn't understand.
On a nice day they would be in their speedo laying in their lawn chairs getting sun. During a block party Gary wanted to throw the football with me and some kids. He threw like a girl and when he followed through he had a chicken wing. They were nice though. Remember the golden rule, do onto others...
I don't consider myself liberal or conservative. Definitly not conservative and when I think of liberal, I think of those film makers who go down to the south a pick the dumbest person and decide to make a documentary. I could introduce them to some of the greatest people on earth.
another issue... We had just entered Richmond when NPR was talking about the new overturning of the one gun a month bill in the state of Virginia. I don't own a gun. I don't want a gun. I did my best to hear the whole issue to try to understand both sides. A politician said under the old law, since it was a law, a person would have had 240 guns. Why would you need that many? Maybe you want to start an army or something I don't know. The story also talked about gun trafficing. Apprarently, people from up north like New York would buy their guns in Va and then commit a crime in New York. Also people are trying to pass having a concealed weapon and not having a permit. As far as that law goes, think about owning car. You need a driver's license, and also registration. I can't say that I am pro gun. THose kinda problems could be solved if the gun own would grow a pare and buy a punching bag and boxing gloves. Try punching a bag. Why don't you learn how to fight. Fools
Monday, January 30, 2012
Ralph LOve's Trumpet
Ralph Love’s Trumpet
The psyche ward wasn’t an institution. It was in downtown Richmond close to the University. The psyche ward was in a park and it contained the homeless or people who have been forgotten by the establishment.
Occassionally the police would come to kick the people out, but most of the time they could stay.
The psyche ward brought the unemployed and the mentally ill. Some of the students from the university would start organizations to give the people in the psyche ward food and medical care, but for the most part the people were there to fin for themselves.
Ralph was a schizophrenic. He had been in the actual Psyche ward ten times in his life. He would go to the ward get on medication, become stable, and then he was let back out into society.
Three weeks ago he was discharged from the hospital. He was given a month supply of medication. He was also put on a waiting list for housing. This gave him some hope to have a roof over his head again.
With only a weeks worth of medication he turned to his only escape. Ralph was a trumpet player. He used disregarded napkins and cloths to shine it up to look like gold. With the help of his trumpet, the voices would subside.
Ralph was able to shower in the psyche ward but it had been three weeks since he had bath. For Ralph finding food and playing his trumpet was more of a priority then bathing. Ralph had long greasy hair and his skin was stained with earth from sleeping in bare spots where the grass wouldn’t grow. A full day as a homeless man was tiring so he was willing to sleep anywhere. IN fact, it was one of his favorite things to do besides playing his trumpet.
Ralph was so dirty that people didn’t think he was caucasion but a different nationality. Despite the dirt, Ralph had green eyes that made him look like he had just awaken from a dream. A dream that pictured him with a family in a house with a garage, a back yard for football and barbecues on Saturday. That dream and Ralph’s trumpet help to get him off the ground.
There was a lot on Ralph’s mind to running out of meds, to that waiting list, to finding food for the day. It all went away with the tone of his muted trumpet. While he played he scheduled his day.
When he felt the buzzing sensation in his lips from playing so hard, he decided to go dumpster diving. His favorite dumpster was in the back of a four star restaurant. He would joke a four star restaurant with three star scraps of food.
He knew a dishwasher there who just got out of drug rehab. His name was Chuck. Chuck would save what was left of lobster and filet mignon. Chuck would do some prep work which consisted of cutting romaine, onions, carrots, and other vegetables. He would save some for Ralph. The cook knew this but turned a blind eye.
The job was apart of Chuck’s drug rehab. Chuck came from a middle class family. He still had the soccer boy haircut.
Before Chuck hit bottom Chuck when to college for English. The only thing that turned him off which was a pretty big thing is that the writers he was learning were not the writers he would read for enjoyment. He liked the drug addicts, and the drunks. He thought they had the best writing and told the best stories. Most of them dyed young and Chuck wanted to be like them. This type of thinking ignited his drug addiction. Chuck would have tried any drug on the table. Soon after Chuck’s motivation wasn’t going to class and studying but trying to get high from whatever he could find.
A couple months back Ralph and Chuck met in the hospital during group therapy. The group was so full some people had to stand. Chuck and Ralph had seats in the back where they acted like little kids, telling jokes and arm wrestling. They became friends and before they left for the hospital and they told each other their plans and well they could find each other.
Ralph arrived at the dumpster and put his trumpet behind it so someone wouldn’t steal it to pawn it.
Ralph was eating the rest of a cheesecake when when Chuck heard the commotion from inside the restaurant.
“Hey, Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
Ralph didn’t hear him, because his sights were on finding food.
Chuck went back inside to get plate of steak and potatoes that the cook left out in the open. The cook was looking over the receits in the front part of the restaurant.
Chuck went to the dumpster and kicked it several times, and yelled Ralph’s name again.
Ralph figured it was the matradee who didn’t like Ralph. Ralph thought he seemed spoiled.
“Just looking for my watch!”
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled, “It’s me Chuck.”
Ralph peaked up, seeing Chuck which made him smile.
“Hey, Chuck.”
Ralph feasted his eyes on the plate Chuck was holding.
“Is that for me?”
“Yup,” Chuck answered, “ get out of that dumpster.”
Ralph jumped out.
“Where’s the silverware?” Ralph asked.
“I haven’t cleaned it yet.” Chuck answered.
“I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” Ralph laughed.
Ralph got his trumpet from behind the dumpster and then took the plate from Chuck.
“Thanks!”
Ralph sat down infront of the dumpster with his trumpet on one side of him and the plate on his lap. He started eating.
Chuck went inside to get the garbage from the night before.
Ralph heard a conversation from inside which scared him so he picked up his trumpet with one hand while still holding the plate and went behind the dumpster.
“…this guy ordered three bottles of the most expensive wine we have.” Said the voice which sounded like the cook.
“The ’69 merlot.” Chuck said.
The two men walked outside. Chuck had two bags of garbage in his hands.
“He left his business card.” The cook said.
Chuck looked around for Ralph.
“Ralph! Where’s he go?”
“Ralph! I know you there I can hear you breathing.” The cook said.
Ralph revealed himself as the cook handed over the business card to Chuck. Chuck dropped one of the bags of garbage.
“He wants both of you.” The cook said as he went back inside.
“What does it say?” Ralph asked.
“It says, ‘World processions talent agency.”
Everything inside Ralph told him to question it, but still he was intrigued.
“Does it have a name and phone number?” Ralph asked.
“His name is Lu and it does have a number to call.” Chucked answered.
Chuck turned the card over. In quotes it said, “Receive all the Worldly processions.”
“Do you want to call?” Chuck asked.
“I don’t think we should do this.” Ralph answered.
“We should atleast call.” Chuck said.
“Okay you call and I will finish my lunch.”
Chuck was so excited he left the garbage bags on the ground. He ran inside to call while Ralph shook his head finishing his lunch.
Ralph finally finished. He put the plate on the ground and stood up. He picked up the garbage bags and looked inside. Finally he shook his head and threw them inside the dumpster.
Ralph picked up his trumpet and worked on some fingering.
“I need a glass of water.”
He went to the back door which was opened. Ralph was as close to as he could be without going inside. He tried his best to listen in on the conversation, Chuck, was having on the phone.
“…Well, Ralph is hesitant… I don’t know why.”
“When can I come?... Well I am at work now.”
The cook was listening in too.
“Cut the squash, and you can go on your break.”
Chuck jumped up and then explained what was going on to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“We will be there… I promise.”
Finally he hung up.
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
The cook smiled.
“Cut the squash then you can go.”
“Ralph he wants both of us.” Chuck concluded.
Ralph questioned it all of it.
“I don’t know, Chuck.”
“You have to come!” Chuck yelled.
“Can I have some water?” Ralph asked.
“Sure come on in.” The cook said.
Ralph found the glasses and the sink. He put the two together and then drank.
“Will you go with me, Ralph?” Chuck asked.
“I don’t know.” Ralph answered.
“We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” Chuck said excited.
“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Ralph said.
He went on to say, “I don’t know why but I don’t trust it.”
“Ralph just go with me, and I am sure, Lu, will change your mind.”
Ralph stood up like a soldier.
“You know things are looking up for me. I am on a list for housing. Lately people have been throwing money in my trumpet case whenever I play-“
“Imagine being able to buy a house, buy a car, and get real cash with our talents.” Chuck interrupted.
Ralph smiled. He wanted that for awhile now.
Chuck noticed the smile. “Lu, can get us all those things.”
“I will go just to support you, because you helped me out.”
“Do the squash!” The cook yelled.
Chuck started washing his hands.
“This could be our chance.”
“Don’t you have to work here. If you don’t your parole officer finds out, you will go to rehab again or maybe even prison besides why does he want us?”
“He knows about your trumpet and my poetry.” Chuck answered.
“I think Ralph is right to question this,” the cook said, “if it is to good to be true it probably is.”
Chuck began to do the squash while Ralph played his trumpet.
“Gabrielle this could be a huge opportunity for us both. We have to go.” Chuck said reassuringly.
Ralph played Amazing Grace while Gabrielle sang loud enough so Ralph could here.
After 15 minutes Chuck was done with the squash. He took off his apron, and grabbed his notebook.
Gabrielle smiled at Chuck.
“Be careful.”
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
Ralph stopped playing the trumpet and stood at the back door.
“Are you ready?” Chuck asked Ralph.
“Where are we going?” Ralph asked.
“It is just down the street, a couple of blocks away.” Chuck answered.
The two men left. Gabrielle, the cook, shook his head.
Ralph walked slowly as he played his trumpet. Chuck walked swiftly to the fortune that got bigger in his head.
Ralph heard Gabrielle’s voice in his head. It told him to be careful.
The two men finally arrived at this building that didn’t seem to fit in among the run down boarded up buildings that surrounded it.
The building was a work of art. When the sun hit it, it looked like it was made of gold. There were two figured on two posts. They looked like demons. Their eyes looked like they were staring at Ralph and Chuck. The post the demons were on were joined by a brick wall preventing the men from going inside.
“What do we do now?” Ralph asked.
“There is a button for an intercom.” Chuck answered.
Chuck found it and pressed it.
“Hello,” said the voice.
“Is this, Lu?” Chuck asked.
“This is Lu, who is this?”
Chuck decided to answer.“This is Chuck and Ralph-“
Ralph interrupted. “Is Lu short for something?”
“MY father gave me the unfortunate name of Lucifer.” Lu answered.
“I don’t want to go in.” Ralph concluded.
Lu heard this.
“You either both come in or none of you come in.”
Chuck punched Ralph softly.
“We want to come in.” Chuck said.
A door which was hidden suddenly opened. Chuck went immediately in, but Ralph hesitated as he played his trumpet. Then he followed.
A beautiful woman with a high cut dress with flames on it was waiting. She motioned to them.
“Follow me gentlemen.”
The two men followed her through double doors, down a long hallway. They could hear a rasby voice yelling.
“I want Coltrane! Give me Coltrane!”
The two men looked at each other. Ralph took his lips off the trumpet to mouth the word, “Coltrane.”
The three entered the room.
“Ralph and Chuck are here.” The woman announced.
A man with a gold platted phone on his hear hung it up, and smiled with his gold tooth. He was sitting on a chair that looked like a thrown. The woman walked to the thrown and stood.
In front of the man was desk. On top of the desk were two thick stacks of paper that looked like contracts. They were about as thick as phone books.
The man raised his chin.
“Delila, get the prices that are for the men for signing.”
Delila went to a closet and got a shiny gold trumpet. It was so shiny the two men could see their reflexion in it.
“Can I play that?” Ralph asked.
“First you have to sign.” The man answered.
“Are you, Lu?” Chuck asked.
“I am sorry I should have introduced myself. I am Lu and this beautiful creature is Delila.”
“Where’s my price?” Chuck asked.
Lu clapped his hands once.
“Delila!”
Delila went back to the closet, and came back with a gold shiny tray with lines of white powder. She laid it on the desk beside the trumpet.
“Is that what I think it is?” Chuck asked.
“Straight from Bolivia.” Lu answered.
Chuck’s hands started shaking and he could feel cold swet dripping off his back.
“I went to rehab, because of that.” Chuck said.
“How does that trumpet sound?” Ralph asked ignoring Chuck, because he eyes were on the golden trumpet.
“Both of you can indulge yourselves after you sign.” Lu announced.
“I bet that trumpet doesn’t make a sound.” Ralph concluded.
Lu dropped his jaw his eyes widened in anger.
“If you men sign, I can give you all the world has to offer: the big house, the nice car, women, and so much money.” Lu said trying to hide his anger towards Ralph. He motioned the two men to come closer to sign.
Chuck went closer but Ralph stayed back.
“I can solve all your problems.” Lu said.
Chuck felt the edge of the golden tray.
“It took me awhile to get off this stuff.”
“This stuff, as you call it, help to make true artist creative.”
Lu said as he put two fountain pens on the contract while Ralph stepped further back with his own faded trumpet that kept his heart.
Chuck knelt down and grabbed his pen. He opened the contract to the last page.
“Would you like to join me, Delila?” Chuck asked.
Delia smiled and came closer to the golden tray.
Chuck began writing his name. The ink was red as if it was his own blood.
“Red ink, I like that.” Chuck said.
Ralph heard Gabrielle’s voice.
“Get out.”
Gabrielle’s voice got louder and louder. It got so loud Ralph thought Lu could hear it.
Chuck finished signing his name, and then motioned to Delila to join him. Delila followed. Chuck knelt down to the golden tray, and took a snorted a line.
Ralph kept his eyes on Lu’s eyes. They faded to black.
Ralph high tailed it out of there remembering his trumpet. He ran through the long hallway, through the double doors, and he jumped over the brick wall. He walked a step, and wondered about Chuck. Ralph turned around to see the beautiful building turned into a condemned building with boarded up windows. Even the demons on the posts disappeared.
Ralph made sure he had his trumpet. He decided to double up on his medication, but they weren’t in his pockets. He checked both franticly. They were gone.
Ralph ran back to the restaurant with his trumpet that looked like a faded statue compare to the gold trumpet Lu had.
Ralph arrived at the restaurant with tears in his eyes. The dinner crowd was starting to show.
Ralph went to the kitchen where Gabrielle was.
Gabrielle smiled.
“So Chuck didn’t come back?”
“No.” Ralph answered.
“I need a dishwasher.” Gabrielle said to Ralph.
“I don’t have my meds.” Ralph said with tears in his eyes.
“You don’t need those anymore.” Gabrielle said padding Ralph on his back.
Gabrielle went on to say, “Be my dishwasher.”
“I’ve never washed dishes before.”
“The owner will only give you what he thinks you can handle.” Gabrielle said smiling at Ralph.
“I’m glad you came back.” Gabrielle whispered he Ralph’s ear.
“I think I can wash dishes.” Ralph said as he put down his trumpet.
“The owner also wants to add a jazz band. He told the band, he picked, about your trumpet.”
“Me in a band?” Ralph inquired.
“Mr. Ellington, Mr. Roach, and Mr. Mingus can’t wait to meet you. They wanted Chuck’s words but…”
“What?! What are their names?” Ralph interrupted while he checked his pockets again for his medication.
“Just wash the dishes and do some bussing.” Gabrielle said as he padded Ralph on the back.
Gabrielle tossed Ralph an apron. Without his medication Ralph was concern about the stress that comes with washing dishes in a busy restaurant. He took a deep breath.
A waitress came to the pick up window, but Gabrielle’s head was in the way so Ralph couldn’t see who it was. He voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it in his head who it was.
“Ralph! Bus that table.” Gabrielle yelled.
Ralph noticed a rag and a bus tray underneath his sink. He grabbed them a took a deep breath.
He went through the swinging doors which separated the dining room with the kitchen. Ralph tried to see who the waitress was but every time he tried her back was either turned or her face head was facing another direction.
Ralph went to the table with the dirty dishes, and put the dishes in his bus tray. Then he began to wipe the table off. Occassionally he looked up to try to find who the waitress was.
Suddenly he heard a voice.
“Is that him?” It said.
“I don’t know.” Another one inquired.
“Just ask.” The first voice concluded.
“Ralph! Come on over!”
Ralph turned around to find where the voices were coming from.
There was a table with Duke Ellington, Max Roach, and Charles Mingus.
Ralph laid his bus tray on the table and went over. Ralph’s jaw dropped a mile down. He notice that Charles was devouring his steak, and Max was using his utensils like drumsticks. The Duke smiled at Ralph.
“Hear you play the trumpet?”
“Money jungle was a great album.” Ralph interrupted.
Max and Charles nodded.
“Thank you.” The Duke said.
Ralph was speechless as he felt a pat on the back. Duke looked passed Ralph and said.
“Oh, Hi, Mama Love. You gonna sing tonight?”
Tears then fell from Ralph’s eyes.
“Mama?”
Ralph turned around with arms extended for a hug. Mama Love smiled. She had her hair like she had it when Ralph was a baby boy. He knew this from pictures that were lost through all of Ralph’s moves.
“How’s my baby boy? You were so great today, but I knew you would be. I am so proud of you.”
“Ralph! The dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.” Gabrielle yelled.
Mama Love smiled.
“Look at my baby with a job. I told the owner you could work.”
Mama love wiped the tears from her son’s eyes and then talked to him like he was her soldier.
“Now, I want you to wash those dishes. You go on at 10pm.”
“How about 9:30?” Charles asked as he swallowed his last bit of steak.
Gabrielle cupped his hands next to his mouth so his voice could be projected to the jazz players.
“9:30 is fine, but he still has to wash those dishes.”
Ralph’s smile was a curved as the universe. Ralph left for the table he was cleaning while hearing Mama Love’s voice.
“You know I bought him his first trumpet. He was always so talented.”
Ralph wiped the rest of the table he was working on and turned around.
“This table is read!”
He was still smiling as he went through the swinging doors back to the kitchen.
“I am sure glad you came back, Ralph.” Gabrielle said.
“Me too.”
Ralph put his bus tray in the sink. He then decided to put his trumpet on top of the dishwasher. He reached down but the shine of his trumpet made him jump back. He picked it up. It was now made of gold and silver and also covered with diamonds. It’s illumination lit up the kitchen.
“Hey Gabrielle!” Ralph yelled.
“Yeah!” Gabrielle yelled back.
“Tell the owner I said, ‘thank you.”
Gabrielle smiled.
“Mama Love was a pretty good singer before you were born.”
The psyche ward wasn’t an institution. It was in downtown Richmond close to the University. The psyche ward was in a park and it contained the homeless or people who have been forgotten by the establishment.
Occassionally the police would come to kick the people out, but most of the time they could stay.
The psyche ward brought the unemployed and the mentally ill. Some of the students from the university would start organizations to give the people in the psyche ward food and medical care, but for the most part the people were there to fin for themselves.
Ralph was a schizophrenic. He had been in the actual Psyche ward ten times in his life. He would go to the ward get on medication, become stable, and then he was let back out into society.
Three weeks ago he was discharged from the hospital. He was given a month supply of medication. He was also put on a waiting list for housing. This gave him some hope to have a roof over his head again.
With only a weeks worth of medication he turned to his only escape. Ralph was a trumpet player. He used disregarded napkins and cloths to shine it up to look like gold. With the help of his trumpet, the voices would subside.
Ralph was able to shower in the psyche ward but it had been three weeks since he had bath. For Ralph finding food and playing his trumpet was more of a priority then bathing. Ralph had long greasy hair and his skin was stained with earth from sleeping in bare spots where the grass wouldn’t grow. A full day as a homeless man was tiring so he was willing to sleep anywhere. IN fact, it was one of his favorite things to do besides playing his trumpet.
Ralph was so dirty that people didn’t think he was caucasion but a different nationality. Despite the dirt, Ralph had green eyes that made him look like he had just awaken from a dream. A dream that pictured him with a family in a house with a garage, a back yard for football and barbecues on Saturday. That dream and Ralph’s trumpet help to get him off the ground.
There was a lot on Ralph’s mind to running out of meds, to that waiting list, to finding food for the day. It all went away with the tone of his muted trumpet. While he played he scheduled his day.
When he felt the buzzing sensation in his lips from playing so hard, he decided to go dumpster diving. His favorite dumpster was in the back of a four star restaurant. He would joke a four star restaurant with three star scraps of food.
He knew a dishwasher there who just got out of drug rehab. His name was Chuck. Chuck would save what was left of lobster and filet mignon. Chuck would do some prep work which consisted of cutting romaine, onions, carrots, and other vegetables. He would save some for Ralph. The cook knew this but turned a blind eye.
The job was apart of Chuck’s drug rehab. Chuck came from a middle class family. He still had the soccer boy haircut.
Before Chuck hit bottom Chuck when to college for English. The only thing that turned him off which was a pretty big thing is that the writers he was learning were not the writers he would read for enjoyment. He liked the drug addicts, and the drunks. He thought they had the best writing and told the best stories. Most of them dyed young and Chuck wanted to be like them. This type of thinking ignited his drug addiction. Chuck would have tried any drug on the table. Soon after Chuck’s motivation wasn’t going to class and studying but trying to get high from whatever he could find.
A couple months back Ralph and Chuck met in the hospital during group therapy. The group was so full some people had to stand. Chuck and Ralph had seats in the back where they acted like little kids, telling jokes and arm wrestling. They became friends and before they left for the hospital and they told each other their plans and well they could find each other.
Ralph arrived at the dumpster and put his trumpet behind it so someone wouldn’t steal it to pawn it.
Ralph was eating the rest of a cheesecake when when Chuck heard the commotion from inside the restaurant.
“Hey, Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
Ralph didn’t hear him, because his sights were on finding food.
Chuck went back inside to get plate of steak and potatoes that the cook left out in the open. The cook was looking over the receits in the front part of the restaurant.
Chuck went to the dumpster and kicked it several times, and yelled Ralph’s name again.
Ralph figured it was the matradee who didn’t like Ralph. Ralph thought he seemed spoiled.
“Just looking for my watch!”
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled, “It’s me Chuck.”
Ralph peaked up, seeing Chuck which made him smile.
“Hey, Chuck.”
Ralph feasted his eyes on the plate Chuck was holding.
“Is that for me?”
“Yup,” Chuck answered, “ get out of that dumpster.”
Ralph jumped out.
“Where’s the silverware?” Ralph asked.
“I haven’t cleaned it yet.” Chuck answered.
“I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” Ralph laughed.
Ralph got his trumpet from behind the dumpster and then took the plate from Chuck.
“Thanks!”
Ralph sat down infront of the dumpster with his trumpet on one side of him and the plate on his lap. He started eating.
Chuck went inside to get the garbage from the night before.
Ralph heard a conversation from inside which scared him so he picked up his trumpet with one hand while still holding the plate and went behind the dumpster.
“…this guy ordered three bottles of the most expensive wine we have.” Said the voice which sounded like the cook.
“The ’69 merlot.” Chuck said.
The two men walked outside. Chuck had two bags of garbage in his hands.
“He left his business card.” The cook said.
Chuck looked around for Ralph.
“Ralph! Where’s he go?”
“Ralph! I know you there I can hear you breathing.” The cook said.
Ralph revealed himself as the cook handed over the business card to Chuck. Chuck dropped one of the bags of garbage.
“He wants both of you.” The cook said as he went back inside.
“What does it say?” Ralph asked.
“It says, ‘World processions talent agency.”
Everything inside Ralph told him to question it, but still he was intrigued.
“Does it have a name and phone number?” Ralph asked.
“His name is Lu and it does have a number to call.” Chucked answered.
Chuck turned the card over. In quotes it said, “Receive all the Worldly processions.”
“Do you want to call?” Chuck asked.
“I don’t think we should do this.” Ralph answered.
“We should atleast call.” Chuck said.
“Okay you call and I will finish my lunch.”
Chuck was so excited he left the garbage bags on the ground. He ran inside to call while Ralph shook his head finishing his lunch.
Ralph finally finished. He put the plate on the ground and stood up. He picked up the garbage bags and looked inside. Finally he shook his head and threw them inside the dumpster.
Ralph picked up his trumpet and worked on some fingering.
“I need a glass of water.”
He went to the back door which was opened. Ralph was as close to as he could be without going inside. He tried his best to listen in on the conversation, Chuck, was having on the phone.
“…Well, Ralph is hesitant… I don’t know why.”
“When can I come?... Well I am at work now.”
The cook was listening in too.
“Cut the squash, and you can go on your break.”
Chuck jumped up and then explained what was going on to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“We will be there… I promise.”
Finally he hung up.
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
The cook smiled.
“Cut the squash then you can go.”
“Ralph he wants both of us.” Chuck concluded.
Ralph questioned it all of it.
“I don’t know, Chuck.”
“You have to come!” Chuck yelled.
“Can I have some water?” Ralph asked.
“Sure come on in.” The cook said.
Ralph found the glasses and the sink. He put the two together and then drank.
“Will you go with me, Ralph?” Chuck asked.
“I don’t know.” Ralph answered.
“We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” Chuck said excited.
“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Ralph said.
He went on to say, “I don’t know why but I don’t trust it.”
“Ralph just go with me, and I am sure, Lu, will change your mind.”
Ralph stood up like a soldier.
“You know things are looking up for me. I am on a list for housing. Lately people have been throwing money in my trumpet case whenever I play-“
“Imagine being able to buy a house, buy a car, and get real cash with our talents.” Chuck interrupted.
Ralph smiled. He wanted that for awhile now.
Chuck noticed the smile. “Lu, can get us all those things.”
“I will go just to support you, because you helped me out.”
“Do the squash!” The cook yelled.
Chuck started washing his hands.
“This could be our chance.”
“Don’t you have to work here. If you don’t your parole officer finds out, you will go to rehab again or maybe even prison besides why does he want us?”
“He knows about your trumpet and my poetry.” Chuck answered.
“I think Ralph is right to question this,” the cook said, “if it is to good to be true it probably is.”
Chuck began to do the squash while Ralph played his trumpet.
“Gabrielle this could be a huge opportunity for us both. We have to go.” Chuck said reassuringly.
Ralph played Amazing Grace while Gabrielle sang loud enough so Ralph could here.
After 15 minutes Chuck was done with the squash. He took off his apron, and grabbed his notebook.
Gabrielle smiled at Chuck.
“Be careful.”
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
Ralph stopped playing the trumpet and stood at the back door.
“Are you ready?” Chuck asked Ralph.
“Where are we going?” Ralph asked.
“It is just down the street, a couple of blocks away.” Chuck answered.
The two men left. Gabrielle, the cook, shook his head.
Ralph walked slowly as he played his trumpet. Chuck walked swiftly to the fortune that got bigger in his head.
Ralph heard Gabrielle’s voice in his head. It told him to be careful.
The two men finally arrived at this building that didn’t seem to fit in among the run down boarded up buildings that surrounded it.
The building was a work of art. When the sun hit it, it looked like it was made of gold. There were two figured on two posts. They looked like demons. Their eyes looked like they were staring at Ralph and Chuck. The post the demons were on were joined by a brick wall preventing the men from going inside.
“What do we do now?” Ralph asked.
“There is a button for an intercom.” Chuck answered.
Chuck found it and pressed it.
“Hello,” said the voice.
“Is this, Lu?” Chuck asked.
“This is Lu, who is this?”
Chuck decided to answer.“This is Chuck and Ralph-“
Ralph interrupted. “Is Lu short for something?”
“MY father gave me the unfortunate name of Lucifer.” Lu answered.
“I don’t want to go in.” Ralph concluded.
Lu heard this.
“You either both come in or none of you come in.”
Chuck punched Ralph softly.
“We want to come in.” Chuck said.
A door which was hidden suddenly opened. Chuck went immediately in, but Ralph hesitated as he played his trumpet. Then he followed.
A beautiful woman with a high cut dress with flames on it was waiting. She motioned to them.
“Follow me gentlemen.”
The two men followed her through double doors, down a long hallway. They could hear a rasby voice yelling.
“I want Coltrane! Give me Coltrane!”
The two men looked at each other. Ralph took his lips off the trumpet to mouth the word, “Coltrane.”
The three entered the room.
“Ralph and Chuck are here.” The woman announced.
A man with a gold platted phone on his hear hung it up, and smiled with his gold tooth. He was sitting on a chair that looked like a thrown. The woman walked to the thrown and stood.
In front of the man was desk. On top of the desk were two thick stacks of paper that looked like contracts. They were about as thick as phone books.
The man raised his chin.
“Delila, get the prices that are for the men for signing.”
Delila went to a closet and got a shiny gold trumpet. It was so shiny the two men could see their reflexion in it.
“Can I play that?” Ralph asked.
“First you have to sign.” The man answered.
“Are you, Lu?” Chuck asked.
“I am sorry I should have introduced myself. I am Lu and this beautiful creature is Delila.”
“Where’s my price?” Chuck asked.
Lu clapped his hands once.
“Delila!”
Delila went back to the closet, and came back with a gold shiny tray with lines of white powder. She laid it on the desk beside the trumpet.
“Is that what I think it is?” Chuck asked.
“Straight from Bolivia.” Lu answered.
Chuck’s hands started shaking and he could feel cold swet dripping off his back.
“I went to rehab, because of that.” Chuck said.
“How does that trumpet sound?” Ralph asked ignoring Chuck, because he eyes were on the golden trumpet.
“Both of you can indulge yourselves after you sign.” Lu announced.
“I bet that trumpet doesn’t make a sound.” Ralph concluded.
Lu dropped his jaw his eyes widened in anger.
“If you men sign, I can give you all the world has to offer: the big house, the nice car, women, and so much money.” Lu said trying to hide his anger towards Ralph. He motioned the two men to come closer to sign.
Chuck went closer but Ralph stayed back.
“I can solve all your problems.” Lu said.
Chuck felt the edge of the golden tray.
“It took me awhile to get off this stuff.”
“This stuff, as you call it, help to make true artist creative.”
Lu said as he put two fountain pens on the contract while Ralph stepped further back with his own faded trumpet that kept his heart.
Chuck knelt down and grabbed his pen. He opened the contract to the last page.
“Would you like to join me, Delila?” Chuck asked.
Delia smiled and came closer to the golden tray.
Chuck began writing his name. The ink was red as if it was his own blood.
“Red ink, I like that.” Chuck said.
Ralph heard Gabrielle’s voice.
“Get out.”
Gabrielle’s voice got louder and louder. It got so loud Ralph thought Lu could hear it.
Chuck finished signing his name, and then motioned to Delila to join him. Delila followed. Chuck knelt down to the golden tray, and took a snorted a line.
Ralph kept his eyes on Lu’s eyes. They faded to black.
Ralph high tailed it out of there remembering his trumpet. He ran through the long hallway, through the double doors, and he jumped over the brick wall. He walked a step, and wondered about Chuck. Ralph turned around to see the beautiful building turned into a condemned building with boarded up windows. Even the demons on the posts disappeared.
Ralph made sure he had his trumpet. He decided to double up on his medication, but they weren’t in his pockets. He checked both franticly. They were gone.
Ralph ran back to the restaurant with his trumpet that looked like a faded statue compare to the gold trumpet Lu had.
Ralph arrived at the restaurant with tears in his eyes. The dinner crowd was starting to show.
Ralph went to the kitchen where Gabrielle was.
Gabrielle smiled.
“So Chuck didn’t come back?”
“No.” Ralph answered.
“I need a dishwasher.” Gabrielle said to Ralph.
“I don’t have my meds.” Ralph said with tears in his eyes.
“You don’t need those anymore.” Gabrielle said padding Ralph on his back.
Gabrielle went on to say, “Be my dishwasher.”
“I’ve never washed dishes before.”
“The owner will only give you what he thinks you can handle.” Gabrielle said smiling at Ralph.
“I’m glad you came back.” Gabrielle whispered he Ralph’s ear.
“I think I can wash dishes.” Ralph said as he put down his trumpet.
“The owner also wants to add a jazz band. He told the band, he picked, about your trumpet.”
“Me in a band?” Ralph inquired.
“Mr. Ellington, Mr. Roach, and Mr. Mingus can’t wait to meet you. They wanted Chuck’s words but…”
“What?! What are their names?” Ralph interrupted while he checked his pockets again for his medication.
“Just wash the dishes and do some bussing.” Gabrielle said as he padded Ralph on the back.
Gabrielle tossed Ralph an apron. Without his medication Ralph was concern about the stress that comes with washing dishes in a busy restaurant. He took a deep breath.
A waitress came to the pick up window, but Gabrielle’s head was in the way so Ralph couldn’t see who it was. He voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it in his head who it was.
“Ralph! Bus that table.” Gabrielle yelled.
Ralph noticed a rag and a bus tray underneath his sink. He grabbed them a took a deep breath.
He went through the swinging doors which separated the dining room with the kitchen. Ralph tried to see who the waitress was but every time he tried her back was either turned or her face head was facing another direction.
Ralph went to the table with the dirty dishes, and put the dishes in his bus tray. Then he began to wipe the table off. Occassionally he looked up to try to find who the waitress was.
Suddenly he heard a voice.
“Is that him?” It said.
“I don’t know.” Another one inquired.
“Just ask.” The first voice concluded.
“Ralph! Come on over!”
Ralph turned around to find where the voices were coming from.
There was a table with Duke Ellington, Max Roach, and Charles Mingus.
Ralph laid his bus tray on the table and went over. Ralph’s jaw dropped a mile down. He notice that Charles was devouring his steak, and Max was using his utensils like drumsticks. The Duke smiled at Ralph.
“Hear you play the trumpet?”
“Money jungle was a great album.” Ralph interrupted.
Max and Charles nodded.
“Thank you.” The Duke said.
Ralph was speechless as he felt a pat on the back. Duke looked passed Ralph and said.
“Oh, Hi, Mama Love. You gonna sing tonight?”
Tears then fell from Ralph’s eyes.
“Mama?”
Ralph turned around with arms extended for a hug. Mama Love smiled. She had her hair like she had it when Ralph was a baby boy. He knew this from pictures that were lost through all of Ralph’s moves.
“How’s my baby boy? You were so great today, but I knew you would be. I am so proud of you.”
“Ralph! The dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.” Gabrielle yelled.
Mama Love smiled.
“Look at my baby with a job. I told the owner you could work.”
Mama love wiped the tears from her son’s eyes and then talked to him like he was her soldier.
“Now, I want you to wash those dishes. You go on at 10pm.”
“How about 9:30?” Charles asked as he swallowed his last bit of steak.
Gabrielle cupped his hands next to his mouth so his voice could be projected to the jazz players.
“9:30 is fine, but he still has to wash those dishes.”
Ralph’s smile was a curved as the universe. Ralph left for the table he was cleaning while hearing Mama Love’s voice.
“You know I bought him his first trumpet. He was always so talented.”
Ralph wiped the rest of the table he was working on and turned around.
“This table is read!”
He was still smiling as he went through the swinging doors back to the kitchen.
“I am sure glad you came back, Ralph.” Gabrielle said.
“Me too.”
Ralph put his bus tray in the sink. He then decided to put his trumpet on top of the dishwasher. He reached down but the shine of his trumpet made him jump back. He picked it up. It was now made of gold and silver and also covered with diamonds. It’s illumination lit up the kitchen.
“Hey Gabrielle!” Ralph yelled.
“Yeah!” Gabrielle yelled back.
“Tell the owner I said, ‘thank you.”
Gabrielle smiled.
“Mama Love was a pretty good singer before you were born.”
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