Johnny Greer’s Blues - Part 5

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Johnny changed out of his rain soaked clothes and into a dry set of jeans and t-shirt when he returned to the Rat Palace. The rain had been chilly, and even though he hadn’t had to walk too far in it from his car, he still felt the cold. He managed to protect the red envelope under his jacket, but everything else would need to dry out.

Johnny turned on the stove to old white gas unit. He pulled out a couple of pans to heat up beans and a boil a couple of hot dogs. What the Rat Palace was lacking in decor, it made up for in world class cuisine. He grabbed one of his two plates out of the sink and carried his feast to the small, wooden table in the room that served double duty as a living and dining room. Johnny opened the red envelope while he ate. Inside was a smaller red envelope addressed in flawless script to Charlie Miller with an East Memphis address off Walnut Grove. There was also a single typed page in the larger envelope, which Johnny digested along with his lunch.

“Johnny,

All of us are pleased you have agreed to allow up to represent you. We expect great things and a relationship that benefits us all. To begin your journey, I have set up and paid for a recording session at Delta Sounds Studio in Midtown Memphis one week from Wednesday. See a gentleman there named Alan “Bones” Baer. His studio is a newer one, but he is a talented producer. And, I could get you in quickly.

Make a demo of six tunes. Put your flavor on them, and take Mr. Baer’s advice. He will send the tapes to me, and I will shop them around if they are good enough. Which they will be. Johnny, this is the start, and I see nothing but good ahead.

One other matter. Inside this envelope you will find a letter. I need you to deliver that to the address listed on it. Do that today. You don’t need to do anything other than make sure it gets into the hands of the addressee. Easy enough, but important.

Good luck on both endeavors.

Welcome to the family.”

The letter was signed with the single name, “Gold”.

Johnny stared at the note and picked up the smaller envelope. It wasn’t heavy. It seemed like it had a few sheets of paper in it, but nothing more. His job didn’t seem all that difficult, but he wondered why he needed to hand deliver it instead of Gold just mailing it to this Charlie Miller. Maybe it was just a test to see if he could follow directions, Johnny thought. And that made sense to him. The name Charlie Miller seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it. Johnny set the smaller envelope down and finished up his lunch. This wasn’t going to be a big deal.

After lunch, Johnny drove out to East Memphis, which took him about a half hour. The houses got nicer the further east he drove, and by the time he got to Charlie Miller’s home they were all large and very nice. These weren’t exactly mansions, but they seemed damn near it.

Johnny pulled his Impala into the driveway and parked next to a twilight blue Cadillac Deville. The car looked brand new. Johnny got out, feeling self conscious in the neighborhood, and more than a little concerned that the man he was coming to see might call the police on him.

Johnny took a deep breath and got out of his car. He approached the large, colonial brick house and pressed the doorbell button. Shortly thereafter, a 50 something year-old white man in jeans and a checkered shirt opened the door. Johnny put the name together with the face. Charlie Miller was a bona fide country music star. Johnny didn’t know much about country, but he had seen this man play on TV, maybe on Hee Haw or some corny show like that. The man was a good picker with a dynamic stage presence.

“What do you want?” the man asked in a deep voice that confirmed he was the man Johnny had seen on TV.

“I, um, was asked to deliver this to you,” Johnny said, extending his hand with the envelope.

Miller did not move to take the envelope. “You Gold’s new errand boy?”

“I’m a musician,” Johnny said.

Miller chuffed. “You can be both. Believe me, I know. Come on in, son,” Miller said, standing aside to let Johnny in.

The entry gleamed with success and money. The floor was white marble, and a staircase with a dark wooden rail and posts curved up to the second floor. Miller led Johnny to a room to his right. A matte black baby grand piano dominated the room which had black leather couches and chairs and a large bar on one side. At least a dozen gold records decorated the walls.

“Have a seat,” Miller said. “What’s your poison?”

“Oh, I just needed to drop that off, you don’t need to go to any trouble.”

“I’m having bourbon. You want some? It’s the good stuff.”

“I really…”

Miller looked at him. “Just sit down.”

Johnny sat on a sofa as Miller gave two heft pours of bourbon into cut crystal glasses.

“I don’t like ice. You?”

Johnny shook his head, and Miller handed him a glass before sitting down.

“You know who I am. What’s your name?”

“Johnny Greer.”

“Johnny Greer. I’m guessing you are new to Gold’s stable.”

“Just signed up.”

“And, delivering that is your first favor for Gold, I take it,” Miller said, pointing to the envelope.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

Miller reached out and grabbed the envelope from Johnny. He tossed it on the glass-top coffee table. “I’ve been expecting it. Just not so soon. Of course, I am not surprised he had someone deliver it for him. No hard feelings, Johnny.”

Johnny nodded and took a sip from his glass. He had to admit, the bourbon was smooth.

Miller smiled. “I told you it’s good stuff. Best there is. I’m guessing you don’t know my work too well. You are too young and not pigment challenged enough to be a fan.”

“I mean, I know who you are,” Johnny said. “I just don’t really know your songs.”

“No offense taken. But, son, those songs about bad women and good dogs and all that crap built this house and more. I’ve done good.”

“I can see that. Yes,” Johnny said, not sure what to say or why he was in this conversation.

“You know, Gold found me in Nashville. I started out there doing open mics downtown. He got me a deal with a Music Row group not long after I signed with him. And it’s been one hit after another since.”

“What are you doing in Memphis?”

“My wife - well ex-wife - is from here. I moved down for here, and decided to stay even after she left.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Wouldn’t be a country star if I didn’t have at least one ex-wife, would I?” Miller said with a genuine laugh. “What do you play, Johnny?”

“A little blues. A little rock.”

“Can’t beat rock and roll these days. You done any recording yet?”

“Got a session over at Delta Sounds next week,” Johnny said, his nervousness melting into pride.

“Bones Baer started that place up about six months ago. I worked with him when he was in a studio up Nashville way before. He’s a good man, and has one - hell two - of the best ears around. You’ll like him.”

“I’m pretty excited about it. Nervous, but excited.”

Miller took a pull from his glass. “Listen, kid, I’m going to do something for you that no one did for me. And that’s tell you to watch out for Howard Gold.”

“You saying I can’t trust him.”

“Oh. You can trust him. He’s a man of his word. And he’s the best manager you’ll find in the whole U S of A. If he says he can make you a star, he can.”

Johnny nodded, looking down at his glass.

“But you know he’s going to ask things of you, right? That’s why you’re here in my humble home. And what he asks, doesn’t seem like a big deal, does it. You brought me a letter. What’s the harm, right?”

Johnny nodded.

“Next time he asks you to do something it will probably be no big deal either. A little more….” Miller took a drink. “I don’t know. Weird. But not anything that worries you too much.”

Johnny looked at him.

“And it’ll go like that for a while. For years. Eventually, you’ll have crossed a line you never thought you’d cross. And once you realize it, well, son, it’ll be too late. You’ll be stuck in a trap before you even know you took hold of the bait.”

“What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is that you might want to think long and hard about getting out of this while it’s still easy. The money and fame are wonderful things, and I have no doubt Gold can provide those for you. But, years from now, you’re going to look back and ask yourself if it was worthwhile. And you’re going to question whether it’s too late to stop.”

“And then what?”

“And then, when you decide you can’t take it anymore, you’re going to be a famous, rich old man who opens his door to find some kid with a red envelope. Make sure you give him some of the good stuff. It’s the hospitable thing to do.”

“I. I don’t think I understand.”

“You do. You just don’t want to. I wouldn’t have at your age. Just remember the longer you work with the man, the harder it will be to stop,” Miller stood up.

“Johnny, it was a pleasure to meet you. I wish it could have been under other circumstances. But, that’s the way she rolls. If you don’t mind, let yourself out. It was a pleasure.”

Johnny took one more sip from his glass and set it down before he got up and walked out of the room towards the front door. He looked back once to see Charlie Miller looking down at the envelope. Johnny felt like he was looking at all the sadness in the world.

He left the house and drove back towards his apartment. Charlie Miller’s words rattled him and danced through his brain. All he’d done was delivered a letter. That’s it. If that was all that would be asked of him, it was worth it to see where this road led. Part of Johnny thought he could see a light ahead. The other part of him knew that light could be a bolt of lightning aimed at his heart.

Part Six will follow in the next installment.

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