CHAPTER 13

THE CIRCLE OF MEN got very quiet. The younger guys looked like they
wanted to laugh but were afraid to and the Jimmy guy and the man who must
be my father were looking at me that way grown-ups do when they're getting
ready to give you some bad news or when they're trying to decide which hand
they're going to smack you upside the head with.

Finally Jimmy snapped his fingers and said, "Hold on now, is your name Bud?"

He knew my name! I said, "Yes, sir!"

Jimmy said, "Herman! don't you see'' This has something to do with that crazy
telegram you got this morning." He looked back at me. "And you said you're
from Flint, Bud?''

"Yes, sir, that's right, that's right where I'm from!"

Herman E. Calloway said. ''What in Sam Hill is going on here? First off, don't
you be coming in here accusing folks of being your father, and second off,
where is your mother?"

Shucks, he said it like he didn't already know. I said, "She's dead, sir, she died
four years ago."

Herman E. Calloway said, "I am truly sorry to hear that, but it's obvious that
you are a disturbed young man and you don't have a clue who your father is.
You just tell us who's looking after you now, and we'll get you sent back to
wherever it is you belong."

"I belong with you now, sir."

Herman E. Calloway said, "Now you look here ..."

Jimmy said, "Hold on, Herman." He seemed a lot nicer than this Calloway guy.
"Bud, you got to understand Mr. Calloway here can't be your daddy, no how,
no way, nuh-uh. I don't know what gave you that idea, but whatever, we've got
to get you back home. Someone in Flint's got to be worried sick about you."

I said, "No, sir, I don't have nobody left in Flint, that's why I came all the way
here."

He said, "No one, no one at all?"

I said, "No, sir."

He said, "No brothers?"

"No, sir."

"No sisters?"

"No, sir."

"What about an auntie?"

"No, sir”

"No grandma?"

"No, sir."

Shucks, it looked like this guy was going to go over my whole family tree, but
he whistled and said, "So were you living in an orphanage?"

Uh-oh, I had to be careful how I answered this, one wrong answer and I could
tell that these guys were ready to give me up to the cops or give me a one-way
ticket back to the Home.

I said, "Well, sir, I had some problems with some folks that were supposed to
be looking after me and after I hid their shotgun and poured water all over
Todd Amos I busted out of the shed and had to go on the lam and then I
thought it was about time I came and met my father because it's been--"
He raised his hand to stop me.

"That's fine, son, but just answer what I asked you. What orphanage were you
in?"

"Well, sir, I used to be in a Home and then I wasn't and then I was with some
people that were kind of mean and then I tried to find Miss Hill but she moved
all the way to Chicago and that was too far to walk so--"

He raised his hand again to shut me up. "Hold on, Bud. Do me a favor, go wait
by that door for a minute." He pointed to the side of the stage.

I walked over and waited to see what was going to happen. I tried pushing the
door open a little bit in case I had to make a quick escape but it was jammed
tight. I'd have to leave out of the same door I came in.

The man named Jimmy and the guy who had to be my daddy started
whispering. After while Herman E. Calloway raised his arms and said, "Hey.
But don't forget, this is your little red wagon, you pull it if you want."
Jimmy said, "Fair enough." He waved me back onto the stage.

"Bud" he said, "you look like you might be a little hungry, so I’ll tell you what
we're going to do. We're all done rehearsing and were about to head over to the
Sweet Pea. You're invited to come along under one condition."

"What, sir?"

"Once you get something in your belly you've got to be straight with me,
you've got some explaining to do, we'll feed you but you've got to tell us the
truth. Do we have a deal?"

He stuck his hand out for me to shake. But I wanted to know what I was getting
myself into.

"What's the Sweet Pea, sir?"

"Best restaurant in Grand Rapids. Is it a deal?" I don't know how grown-ups
can tell I'm always so doggone hungry but I sure wasn't going to turn down
getting my very first real restaurant food. I grabbed his hand and made sure I
gave it a hard squeeze like Momma told me to and said, "Yes, sir. Thank you,
sir."

He smiled. "No problem."

Herman E. Calloway said, "Well, James, like I said, if he's gonna be doing
some explaining it's got to be to you, I don't need to listen to this scamp's
nonsense whilst I'm trying to digest my supper."

He stuck a pipe that wasn't lit into his mouth and walked off the stage.
Shucks, if my father had to be so doggone old I was starting to wish that Lefty
Lewis or this Jimmy guy were him, Herman E. Calloway seemed like he was
going to be hard to get along with.

The horn player said, "Little man, my name is Jimmy Wesley, you can call me
Mr. Jimmy."

"Yes, sir"

He pointed at the younger men. "The drummer there is Doug 'the Thug'
Tennant, the sax man is Harrison Eddie 'Steady' Patrick..."

The saxophone player said, "Awww, man, it's not Ed- die Steady, it's Steady
Eddie, Steady Eddie Patrick."

Mr. Jimmy said, "Uh-huh, and on trombone we have Chug 'Doo-Doo Bug'
Cross, and the palest member of the band, on piano, is Roy 'Dirty Deed' Breed."
He shook his head again and said, "Lord knows why these young musicians
can't just leave the perfectly good names their mommas gave them alone, but
for some reason they can't. Anyway, fellas, this here is Bud ... what was your
last name, Bud?"

"Caldwell, sir."

"This here's Bud Caldwell. He's gonna be our guest over at the Sweet Pea for
dinner. Y'all say hello to the little man and make him feel comfortable."

The Thug said, "What's the word, Bud?"

Dirty Deed said, "How you doing?"

Doo-Doo Bug said, "Welcome, little stuff."

Steady Eddie said, "Good to meet you, my man."

I said, "Pleased to meet you."

Mr. Jimmy told them, "All right. He'll ride over with you four, me and Herm
will meet you there."

The sax man, Steady Eddie, said, "All right, Mr. Jimmy, we'll finish loading
up." The Jimmy guy went out the front door.

The sax man told me, "Come on, little man, if Mr. Jimmy's gonna spring for
your supper the least you can do is help load the car. Grab that case over there
and put it in the trunk of the Buick out back."

He pointed to a long skinny black suitcase that had a leather handle on top of it
and said, "And be careful, that's my bread and butter in there."

I must have looked confused because he told me, "That's my horn, my ax, my
saxophone, the thing I make all my money with, so don't get butterfingers and
drop it."

I said, "Oh. Yes, sir."

The trombone man, Doo-Doo Bug, said, "One thing you are going to have to
drop, though, is all that stuff. The only two folks around here old enough for
you to be calling them sir are Mr. Jimmy and"--he winked--"your long-lost dear
old daddy."

The whole band busted a gut laughing.
The Thug guy said, "I'ma let you in on a little secret, my man. I think the only
reason Mr. C. is denying he's your daddy is 'cause you went and hurt his
feelings."

"How? I didn't do nothing to him."

"There it is, that's just what I mean. Here you two are getting together for the
first time and you didn't show the man no love." He looked over at Doo-Doo
Bug.

"Bug, did you see any love being passed from this boy to his daddy?"
Doo-Doo Bug said, "You leave me out of your nonsense."

The Thug kept going. "Shoot, man, seems to me like you should give the man
his props, seems to me like you should've given the man a whole lot more
affection.

"You see, I know Mr. C. better than most folks do, I know that beneath that
cold-hearted, evil, wicked, nasty, mean--"

Doo-Doo Bug said, "Don't forget cheap, cheap's got to be in there somewhere."

The Thug said, "You know cheap's right up high on the list. But as I was
saying, beneath all that festering nastiness is a tender, kind, loving human
being. Why, I'd bet you dollars to doughnuts that he's outside right now sitting
in that Packard sobbing openly about how you shunned him.

"When you get to the Sweet Pea, rush right up on him, give him a big hug, yell
out 'Daddy,' then plant a big juicy kiss right on the top of his shiny bald head.
Shoot, you do that and you'll be in his will so quick your head will spin."

I put this Thug guy on my list of people not to pay any mind to. Herman E.
Calloway seemed like the kind of person that would rather get bit in the behind
by a snaggletooth mule than have somebody give him a kiss.

Steady Eddie said, "Let's not get the little man killed before he's had a chance
to eat, Thug. Son, I hope you've got sense enough to let what he's telling you to
go in one ear and find the nearest exit. You just steer clear of Mr. C. for a
while, he's not someone you want to toy with, and for God's sake whatever you
do don't call him Daddy or Poppa or anything that's going to give anyone the
idea you two are kin, you hear?"

These guys really thought I was dumb. I said, "Yes, sir. But isn't it just like my
luck to come clean across the state to find my daddy and he turns out to be a
mean old coot?"

I slapped my hand over my mouth, I knew better than saying something like
this out loud but it just fell out of my mouth before I could swallow it down.
This was Bud Caldwell's Rules and Things to Have a Funner Life and Make a
Better Liar Out of Yourself Number 63.

RULES AND THINGS NUMBER 63
Never, Ever Say Something Bad About Someone
You Don't Know--Especially When You're
Around a Bunch of Strangers. You Never Can
Tell Who Might Be Kin to That Person or Who
Might Be a Lip-Flapping, Big-Mouth Spy.

Sure enough, the drummer, the Thug guy, started acting like he was writing
stuff down on a piece of pretend paper. He said, "Let's see, was that 'mean old
coot' or 'old mean coot'? Shoot, baby, if I drop some info like this on Mr. C. I
might be able to stay in this band longer than the last three drummers did. You
see, kid, you ain't the only one trying to get on Mr. C's good side, this is the
best drumming gig in the state and I need to hang on to it as long as I can."

I wasn't sure if this drummer guy really was a dirty dog or if he was just a big
teaser. Whichever way, I'd have to work real hard on remembering Rule and
Thing Number 68. Or was it 63?

Steady Eddie said, "Thug, you're gonna have to lay off the kid's chops, the little
man's got problems enough and he sure don't need to have you meddling with
him. Let's get that car loaded, me and ... what's your name again, kid?"

"Bud, not Buddy, si ...just Bud, not Buddy."

"Right, me and Bud-not-Buddy are too dang hungry to hear any more of your
lip."

Of all the Dusky Devastators of the Depression or the Nubian Knights, Steady
Eddie is my favorite.

We loaded a bunch of funny-shaped black suitcases into the trunk of a big old
black Buick, then climbed in. I got in the backseat and sat between Dirty Deed
and Steady Eddie with my suitcase on my lap. Doo- Doo Bug got behind the
steering wheel and the Thug got in beside him.

The Thug said, "So, Bud-not-Buddy, I'ma come right out and ask what's on
everyone else's mind. How'd you find out Mr. C. was your daddy?"

"My mother let me know."

Thug said, "Uh, I ain't trying to be funny, and I'd never play the dozens on no
one, but let me ask you, was your momma, uh, how can I put this? Was your
momma as old as sand when she had you?"

Steady Eddie said, "Man, leave the kid alone, you got no call to go prying into
his life."

I never minded talking about my momma so I told the Thug, "Yes, sir, she was
pretty old when I was born."

Thug said, "Shoot, I knew she had to be either old or crazy to have anything to
do with that man. How old was she, eighty, and was she blind?"

I said, "No, sir, she was old, but her eyes didn't go bad yet. She was twenty
when I was born, and she was twenty-six when she died."

That news always kills any conversation you're having with grown folks. The
Dusky Devastators got as quiet as some mice with bedroom slippers on. The
only sound you could hear for a second was the keys cling- clang-clinging up
against the metal dashboard as Doo- Doo Bug turned the car into the front of a
little house that had a sign saying THE SWEET PEA on it.

The Thug said, "Things is hard all over, ain't they?"

Steady Eddie said, "You're all right, little man, you're a tough little nut, I like
that. Most folks your age would be bawling their eyes out if they got teased as
hard as that fool drummer was teasing you, but you ain't even close to crying,
are you?"

I said, "No, sir, I don't know why, but my eyes don't cry no more."

Steady Eddie said, "I like that, ‘my eyes don't cry no more.' You mind if I
borrow that? That sounds like a great name for a song."

I said, "No, sir, I don't mind at all." He reached over and rubbed his hand over
my head and said, "Yeah, you're all right, little fella. And don't you worry none
too much about the Thug, Mr. C. changes drummers the way most folks change
their drawers. What you see in that front seat is a man on borrowed time."
Thug said, "Awww, man, what did you hear?"

Doo-Doo Bug cut the car off and said, "All right. gentlemen, that's enough, let's
go stuff our craws."