The Good Stuff
Short Story
A Silver Siren's Finale of Song
by Denise Marshall
Length: 762 words 

A Silver Siren's Finale of Song

Oh, yeah; looky-looky all you want, we both know you wanna;
I see you watchin' my vibrant alter ego in her Tina Turnerwear.
Why not just sit there for now? We both know soon you're gonna
inch up real close to the stage to watch with lips parted, and stare.

Yes, it's really true; Jazzi's my given name; mom's mom had a vision
one night as mom, still expecting but I was on the brink of being born.
Gram dreamt I was in a smoky bar, face in blue light, onstage with mic,
in front of me, a toe-tappin' audience sat listening to Miles on his horn.

What's in the Rosewood case sitting over there? A few percussions,
the leather bag sitting near it was made just for my chimes and stand.
I love to hear the way it tink, tink, tink tinkles when I run my fingers
lightly up and down the scales, feeling each chime dance on my hand.

Wow! Quite a turnout tonight; a sea of faces lightly toastet burned;
peering through blurry eyes, all the familiar faces of fans I still see.
most of them are regular patrons I've known and seen over the years.
Throughout these years of good times; tonight, they bid farewell to me.

Oh, definitely; they've become my "fam", as we bonded over the years,
I have grown close to them; too; I also consider them my good friends.
And, I know you know tonight we gon' throw down, set the roof on fire,
only get one grand finale for many fabulous times; after tonight, it ends!

Yes, I remember the first night I sang here, back before it was a "real club"
it was the new "hot spot" where "foke" came to party; mo' like a juke joint.
House band played on weekends, they danced til fo five clock in the mornin';
wasn't called The Lake then, either; remember? Back then, it was The Point.

Don't know why I'm asking anyway; you probably remember better than I do;
didn't that 10 years fly by quick as lightening? And wasn't all 10 years fun?
I was dressed to the nines that first night, you were sitting over at the VIP table,
sharp as a squita's tweeta; Nita said "ooh, he fine!" Couldn't tell you nuthin, son!

I was so shy and timid tha . . . I was, too, timid then! Had that big ol' leather bag
that was so big and heavy, it was carryin me. What I USTA put my instruments in.
Every club, bar and juke joint where I tried to get work singing had turned me down;
I almost passed by this place, it looked too much like some hole in the wall back then!

I was so hungry and nervous and tired cuz I had walked all day long; I was so scared
I stood outside a long while figurin' out what I was gon' do if they wouldn't let me stay.
But you know how they say there's a reason for everything? The club-owner had a plan
and my timing was perfect! He wanted it to be a jazz bar; looking singers that very day.

''l want my club to be classy and grand", he said. I saw he was dead serious bout it, too;
I knew I was in like Flynn, that this gig was gonna be mine, and both our dreams came true.
It was wonderful for the guests and me; to them, I was Miss Jazzi -- the lady with the band.
It's special how we all cared for one another right off, and we stayed together tight as glue.

Hand me a tissue, please; I feel like I'm leaving family; better stop all this reminiscing, huh?
I promised myself I was gonna be a big girl all night, and not breakdown in a flood of tears.
Look over there, Billy; band and management surprised me with that big poster of me singing.
They signed it "Farewell to Snazzi Miss Jazzi. We'll miss you, The Voice of Love, for years!"

The band's warming up; I can hear them crankin' it. Okay, I'll let you buy me one last drink,
but I don't want to have it until after my last song is over, it's better for me when I wait a while
cuz I never could drink AND sing; my tongue gets heavy and slurs wh . . . oops, gotta go up now!
I got a surprise for you; my last song is your favorite. Yep, "God Bless the Child That Got His Own"!

 
Blue Song Art Print
White, Nick
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