The Kid and the Keepers by Donald Glover

Author:Donald Glover
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64701-088-1
Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc
Published: 2020-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Jeru saw the others warming up on stage. Monk prepped Grease Free on the piano, Mr. Kenny Clarke tutored Gut Bucket on the drums, and Nick Fenton assisted Big Bass as the house band gave the Eternal Squires a crash course in bebop. Then they urged Jeru to join them. Moving forward, he felt the harsh gaze of the stage lights as he turned to face the crowd. The scene was stunning. Big Bass encouraged him.

“You’re okay, kid. Remember what I told you. Close your eyes, imagine someplace, and take that first step.”

Then Diz led Jeru to the microphone where the Bird was standing. Jeru had similar feelings during his fifth-grade show-and-tell—only this was stronger. He was seconds from his first gig, and it was at Minton’s with Mr. Charlie “Bird” Parker. This realization brought him both nervousness and excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Gillespie began, “and now for your listening pleasure, I present to you Mr. Bobby ‘Grease Free’ Green on piano, Mr. Bucky ‘Gut Bucket’ Johnson on drums, and Mr. Denny ‘Big Bass’ Roberts on violin…I mean the bass. It just looks like a violin in his hands because he’s so big. I’ve never seen a man so tall. Hey, Big Bass, don’t burn your hair on the stage lights. If it gets too hot up there just let me know, and I’ll get you a chair.” Mr. Gillespie laughed with the crowd as Big Bass took a bow.

“How about a big hand for the Perpetual Squires, featuring my good friend Mr. Charlie ‘Bird’ Parker and Jeru ‘the Kid’ Johnstone!’ He’ll begin the set with his original composition, ‘Ooh-Bop-Pa-Day.’”

Before Jeru could respond, Dizzy was directing the band. “A one-two…one-two…ready and…”

The lights went down. Jeru took Big Bass’s advice and closed his eyes. Gradually all traces of Minton’s Playhouse—both sights and sounds—gave way to a new, imagined scene. Jeru moved reluctantly, his steps like the glide of a cross-country skier, advancing only inches at a time with both feet in touch with the surface beneath him. But Jeru knew something that would give him conviction lurked on the horizon. In seconds, a sparkler fireworks exhibit would break out—minus the easily contented children. The initial spark streaked like the first report at Lexington, with the promise of hundreds more to follow. Suddenly, in the area about Jeru, an artificial day grappled with the night sky as light bounced off the brass bell of the Silver Flair. Outside a space the size of a small school bus, all else was dark and still. But for the thump, thump of his heartbeat, all was quiet.

Suddenly a voice rumbled like thunder over a canyon. “Out of my way, weakling, the Silver Flair is mine!”

Jeru stepped aside as a colossal figure hastened forward, disturbing the terrain with each step. From a safe distance, Jeru saw the rivets of his armor strain under the assault of restless girth, and each digit of the giant’s fingers appeared to be larger than his own biceps.

“It’s mine,” he bellowed once more, his claws clutching the horn.

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