Page 6 of Forgotten

“You don’thaveto spend all the per diem, Jesse. It’s not like you won’t have it again tomorrow in Arlington.”

“Right, right. I think I might just get a drink and call it a night, actually. Kevin brought in some sushi before the show.”

“Great,” Flynn said, and I got the impression that absolutely none of this information was registering with any importance whatsoever. “Have a good night, Jesse, I heard you killed it in Springfield, and Arlington is going to get a hell of a show tomorrow. Good night!”

I didn’t even have a chance to respond before he hung up. I’d love to tell him what I thought of stopping in Tulsa without playing a show there, or how the venue in Springfield was packed but as rundown a place as I had ever played, and how Arlington was going to be a hot drive tomorrow and the six-thirty start time for the show seemed awfully early, but he was already gone.

At least it was just a four-hour drive. I could wake up late, go to a restaurant for lunch, then hit the road and be there in time to warm up before the show. That was something, at least. Stopping in Tulsa made sense when I thought about it that way. I just hated being in a town and not doing a show. It felt like a waste.

The drive from Springfield, Missouri had been particularly better than the drive from St. Louis to Springfield, with a lot less traffic and fewer accidents and construction sites. I was able to make it in just around two hours, which despite not being long at all, still seemed to do a number on my back. Maybe it was just turning thirty that was doing it, but a hundred and eighty miles in a car after performing my heart out was just difficult.

I parked in an open space near the lobby door and grabbed the only two bags that were going to go in with me. One had toiletries, a pair of socks, a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes, and the other had my guitar, extra strings, picks, and some sheet music. Everything else could stay in the car for all I cared. If it wasn’t electronic and would melt, it would survive.

Shouldering the guitar and carrying the other back low, I walked into the lobby to find it quiet and empty. In the distance, I could see the bar area, which also looked empty, with a bartender wiping things down as he was clearly closing for the night. I pick up my pace and get over to him as he looked up with a faint recognition in his expression.

“You’re not closed, are ya?”

“Do I know you?” he asked with a genial smile.

“Depends. Will that help me get a drink before you shut up shop?”

He laughed genially and leaned back against the bar.

“Maybe,” he said, craning his neck toward the main desk and then looking back at me, searching my face. “I know I’ve seen you before. You a regular here?”

“First time, actually,” I said. “My band is all here already. I was the straggler because I wanted to eat before I got on the road.”

“Band, that’s it! You’re that Jesse James fella, aren’t you?”

I laughed. “I am. Jesse James Galloway. Do I know you?”

“Nah,” he said. “I was just at the show you boys did in Oklahoma City last month. Surprised to see you in Tulsa.”

“Did a loop,” I said. “Started in Dallas, ending in Arlington. Just went right up the highway, up to Chicago, Detroit, then back down through St. Louis. I’m actually headed to Arlington tomorrow morning.”

“Aw, man, no show in Tulsa?”

“Despite my attempts to get it booked, no,” I said.

“Well, hell, for you, I can stay open for a few more minutes. Legally we don’t have to close ‘til one, but I shut things down early if it’s dead.”

“I see,” I said, scanning the completely empty bar. “Seems pretty dead.”

“It’s a Tuesday.” He shrugged. “Most of the businessmen were gone by eleven. No one else comes to drink after that except people who really shouldn’t be. And people like you, I guess.”

“Hah.”

“What’ll ya have?”

“Whatever you can give me. Just make it strong.”

“Whisky man?”

“Hell yeah.”

He nodded knowledgeably and reached for a bottle behind the counter. I pulled out my wallet and grabbed a handful ofcash. The per diem was going to good use tonight. How much did I have in there? Three, four hundred? I had barely used it last week, blowing it all at the bar on Sunday. I’d left a hundred-dollar tip there. Might as well leave one here too.

“Here ya go, Jesse,” he said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to make it look like I shut down before the boss sees me.”

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