The Bluesman #2
Tattoo Magic Showdown
A Short Story by
Copyright 2012 Stuart Jaffe
Cover Art provided by iStockPhoto
We've all heard tons of advice on what Life is all about. It's a journey. It's what happens when we make other plans. It's a circle. It's family. And on and on and on. Let me tell you something — when you spend your days with a magic-wielding, guitar-playing bluesman from a parallel world who travels around killing all the monsters that slipped into our world with him, then you'll understand Life in a whole new way. Here's an example from long ago:
About a week had passed since I first met up with Fuller the Bluesman, and life had been rather quiet. In the day, we drove in my dented Ford from town to town, moving slowly so as not to miss any hint of a creature. At night, we'd find some joint that would pay Fuller to play. The driving dulled the senses. The music enlivened them.
I sat at a little round table in Shaker's Bar while Fuller led the house band through a pounding version of Muddy Water's "I'm Ready." The song, all about how Muddy was tough and itching for a fight, had the small Wednesday night crowd bopping their heads. Fuller's skillful fingers worked the fretboard with grace and ease. I couldn't imagine ever getting tired of listening to him play, and all these years later, I still feel that way.
My table was against the back wall to the left of the stage. While I listened to Fuller sing about being so strong he could smoke dynamite, I slung back a shot of whiskey and fired up my laptop. I had never been much of a whiskey lover — during my partying days (which weren't that far behind) beer always did the trick. Okay, any alcohol always did the trick. But spending so many nights in bars had already changed me. I had to drink something to appease the owners and I enjoyed a little buzz, but drinking beer every night meant several trips to the restrooms. With whiskey, I got that buzz quick and didn't have to pee as often. Win-win.