Chapter 2
He shook his head. “Just got into town. Left a band behind that had shit for brains and more attitude than talent. It’s not that I make a living at it, but I like to play with people that love it as much as I do and are serious about their craft.”
“I know what you mean,” I replied. “I play the banjo, and my band just broke up because of egotistical drama.” I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Despite the fact that most of them were assholes, I still miss the music, though maybe I’ll keep it low key for a while.”
“Yeah.” He walked over and sat next to me. “Landry Flannery.” He held out his hand.
I shook it. “Jimmy Fassett. Nice to meet you, fiddle man.” His touch sent a lightning bolt up my spine, and I swallowed. That had never happened to me before.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your tuna,” he said, grinning when I blushed.
“Oh, God, sorry about my breath.”
He winked at me. “It’s okay. I like tuna.” Landry stood. “See you around, Jimmy Fassett. Maybe we can play together one evening, up here on the roof.”
“I’d like that.”
* * * *
The rest of the week, I did my regular job, but I was thwarted by weather in going up on the roof in the evenings. It also meant that we didn’t clean many pools either and that left filing paperwork. Which I hated. With a passion.
Friday was the first time it stopped raining, and I was anxious to spend more time with the mysterious Landry.
As it was the start of the weekend, more people were around on the roof, but they were in groups, doing their own thing. I spotted Landry right away. He sat tuning his instrument, his pink-striped hair hard to miss, even in the sunset.
There were lights above us, and I made my way to where he sat by himself.
“Hi.” I joined him on the bench, my banjo in hand.
“That’s a nice instrument,” he said, looking it over. “Old?”
“My father’s. He gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday.” I carefully patted the strings. “He used to play in a band in the seventies and eighties. He gave it all up to raise us kids. He taught me how to play, since I was the only one among the five of us who was interested in music.”
“Five, did you say?” Landry seemed shocked.
“Yup, and it would have been more, but Mom told Dad that the only football team in their house would be on TV. So he had to get snipped.”
“Oh, that’s awesome,” Landry said, laughing long and hard.
“My parents are unique, to say the least.”
“They sound like mine,” he replied. “My dad, his dad, and on before him were fiddlers. I’m carrying on the tradition in a long line of Flannerys.”
“I see. So since you’re new to town, what are you looking to do?” I asked as I tuned my strings. I used a tuner app on my phone.
“Well, I’ll be teaching music at St. James Community College. I got my Master’s degree a few years ago, but I got tired of the scene back home. So here I am.”
“Wow, that’s cool.”
He didn’t look old enough to have done everything he’d said, but what did I know? Maybe he just had good genes.
He smiled. “You’re thinking I’m young, aren’t you?”
Chuckling, I nodded.
“I get that all the time. Maybe it’s the stripe in my hair. I’m thirty years old, and I still get carded.”
“We should all have that problem,” I retorted, and he laughed.
“You’re probably right.” We both finished tuning, and then he asked, “So what should we play?”
“How about we do that Charlie Daniels song again?”
“Let’s hit it.”
* * * *
Oh, man, we played so well together! Everyone within listening distance stopped what they were doing and gathered around us, tapping their feet or dancing with each other. It was so cool. I’d missed this kind of energy.
We jammed for a couple of hours, the crowd continuing to grow until it seemed most of the building was on the roof for an impromptu party. Finally, enough was enough.
“Okay, folks,” Landry said. “I’m tired, and I’m sure Jimmy is, too. Rain check?” He was a natural at this.
People were disappointed, but the prospect of having us do this again sometime soon was well-received. We got a huge round of applause as we left to go back to our respective apartments.