Johnny Greer’s Blues - Part 13

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It would be a while before Johnny saw Pete again. He only had a short time to prepare for the packed tour Gold had put together. He’d start at a juke-joint in Clarksdale, Mississippi before moving on to Greenwood and then a fair in Jackson. He’d hit a couple of bars in Biloxi before hitting a small concert hall in Mobile and a club in Montgomery. After that, he had a college date in Birmingham, before swinging up to Nashville, and finally Jackson, Tennessee before heading home. Johnny wasn’t sure if he had it in him to make this circuit, and he sure didn’t know if his Impala could make that many miles. But, he had to operate on faith that they could carry each other for the duration.

The day after the Silver Palace gig, Johnny woke up to a knock on his door. He opened it to find Theresa from Delta Sounds standing in the doorway carrying a guitar case.

“There’s my rock star,” she said, giving Johnny a warm hug.

Johnny invited her in, but she waved him off.

“Bones just asked me to drop this off,” she said, handing him the case. “It’s that Gibson electric we let you borrow before. We figured you might need it on the road.”

“Thank you, Terri. I’ll treat her right and bring her back to you in one piece.”

Theresa smiled. “Keep it. Bring it back. It’s cool either way. I think we are going to get a lot of business because of you. Musicians are going to want to capture some of that magic, you know?”

Johnny laughed. “Bones is a wizard!”

“So are you, Johnny. Go out there and make us proud. And have fun.”

“I will.”

“And, Johnny, be careful. It’s a scary business in a dangerous world. You can’t count on anyone but yourself to have your back.”

Johnny nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon, and I appreciate the guitar and everything else.”

Theresa smiled, but there was some sadness in her eyes.

“Just be careful, ok?”

Johnny agreed and Theresa turned to walk down the stairs to the apartment entrance.

By the time Johnny packed his bag and hit the road for his first show in Clarksdale, a couple more singles from his album were getting airtime on the radio. Johnny Greer’s Blues had sold out at local record stores once, and were close to doing so a second time. Memphis sales were a bit of an anomaly, but the record wasn’t doing bad regionally. The label hoped the tour would pump those sales up.

Johnny listened to his radio on the way to Clarksdale. He lost the Memphis stations before he got to the first hotel, but he did pick up local stations here and there, and even heard himself singing on one Mississippi station. The deejay announced Johnny’s schedule for the next couple of weeks. That hit Johnny with a dose of adrenaline and stoked the fires of his ego. “I’m making it,” he thought, as his fingers drummed the steering wheel and the Impala chewed up the road.

The hotel helped lower any spike his ego may have enjoyed. Johnny pulled up to a dilapidated two-story roadside motel with a busted sign and a dirt parking lot. Johnny parked his car and checked in. His room was on the first floor, with a door that opened up directly onto the parking lot. The room was dark and dirty. Johnny sat on the creaky bed that sank with his weight. He spotted a cockroach skittering on the floor leading into the bathroom. Johnny’s first day as a traveling rock star was off to a banner start.

“Mikey’s Place” the club he was playing at that night was not much better. It was little more than a wooden shack off the side of the road. The room inside had a bar in the back with a few rows of tables between it and the raised stage. Johnny was stopped at the door by a wiry black man who looked Johnny up and down. “You Johnny Greer?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man nodded and introduced himself. “I’m Mikey. This is my place.” Mikey laughed as he shook Johnny’s hand, as if he had just told a great joke. “Here’s the deal. Just start playing at 9. Go til at least 11, but no longer than 11:30. You see me before you leave tonight. I’ll give you your cut of the door. Eddie at the bar will give you two beers on the house. You pay for any after that. All fair?”

Johnny thanked him and said he understood the deal.

“Alright then, you set up whenever you want. Give the people a good show, now.”

About 20 people were in the club, in a room that could pack in four times that many.

Johnny got his first free beer from the young guy behind the bar that he confirmed was Eddie. “Small crowd tonight?” he asked the bartender.

“About normal. More of ‘em will roll in after you get going. Don’t sweat it.”

At a few minutes to nine, Johnny set up his guitar and checked the sound and mic. It was all fine. Several more people had come in by the time 9 rolled around. Johnny stood to the side of the stage and looked around waiting for someone to bring him up, but Eddie just waved at him to take the stage.

Johnny walked on the stage without any reaction from the audience. He approached the mic and said, “Evening folks, I’m Johnny Greer out of Memphis, and I’m going to play some songs off my new album for you.”

He got light applause and little attention.

By the time he finished his first song, he had their attention. When he got to his third, the audience was filling up and they were with them. When he took a break an hour later, they burst into wild applause and cheers. Johnny didn’t get a chance to get his second free drink. Audience members kept buying him beers and pressed in on him.

During the second set, the room was electric and Johnny could do no wrong. When he wrapped up at 11:15, he was treated like music royalty. He was high on the buzz and drunk off the drinks that kept coming his way. A pretty girl asked Johnny if he wanted to show him his hotel. Johnny couldn’t think of a particular reason to say no, so he didn’t.

As he walked out, leaning on her, Mikey approached him. “Damn, son, that was a hell of a set. You come back here anytime you want. Here,” he said handing Johnny $75. “I gave you a little more than your cut, on account of how much Eddie did at the bar tonight. It was a good night, but a great Thursday night.”

Johnny thanked Mikey as the girl - whose name he never quite got - guided him away.

The next morning, Johnny got up and found himself alone in his hotel room. He panicked for a moment and checked his pockets. The money from the night before was still there. He relaxed, but felt guilty for the night before, though he didn’t want to admit why. He felt like he had cheated on Honi, which was foolishness. But still and all, it’s how he felt.

He had two shows lined up in a Greenwood bar over the weekend. It wasn’t much different from Mikey’s and the crowd’s reaction was the same. After the first show, a group of audience members in their early 20’s asked if Johnny wanted to party with him after the show. He did and stayed up too late getting drunk. They offered him some weed, and Johnny felt it would be rude to say no under the circumstances. The night drifted by in a haze.

After the packed Saturday night show, Johnny found himself in the company of another young woman. This time he got her name, but by morning he had forgotten it. This time, she stuck around for breakfast, and Johnny sprang for it at a local waffle joint. Johnny tried to carry on a conversation with the woman, but found he didn’t have much to say. To her credit, neither did she. For the most part, they ate in silence and said awkward goodbyes when the meal ended. The last time Johnny had eaten at a greasy spoon with a woman had been a far better time.

Johnny had a several days between Greenwood and his next show in Jackson. He was going to be working a state fair for a week, opening for a rock act that had been well known in the mid 60’s, but were squarely in the “whatever happened to those guys” camp now.

The drive to Jackson was easy enough using a combination of I-55 and a few backroads.

The motel near the state fair Johnny was booked in was a little nicer than the ones he’d been in before. The room seemed like it was cleaned more regularly than his prior accommodations, which would probably be true if they were cleaned at all. The furniture felt like it had been acquired sometime within the last decade, and it didn’t appear he’d have to share his room with a cockroach roommate.

Johnny settled into the room and opened a bottle of bourbon someone had slipped him in Greenwood. He had a few days to kill. He thought he might work on a few new songs, but that would wait until the next day. Tonight, Johnny was just going to kick back and take it easy.

Being on the road was, after all, hard work.

The next part will follow.

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