It was a muggy morning, of course that was nothing new. In Port Arthur, most mornings were muggy to say the least. I sip from my coffee cup and hit play again on the tablet in front of me. I light a cigarette and listen to what Amber says to her friends, then rewind it and press play again. This time I watch the body language and listen to the words in motion. I only pause when Amber leaves that room and stops outside. I watch her facial expression at the tail end of it and pause the playback. I lean back in my chair, taking a long drag off my smoke. “Something is out of place.”, I say to myself. I pick up my phone, making sure that I have missed any calls or text messages. “Maybe the fourth time's the charm.”, I say to myself as I dialed the number. The call goes to voicemail, unlike the previous times, I leave a voice message. “Hey Red, it’s Mac, give me a call when you get a minute.
I go back inside the house, I stare at the guitar that sits in the corner. I pick it up and go back outside with it. I sit again in my chair on the porch, “Well old friend, it’s time to figure some things out.”, I say to the guitar as I smile. I light another cigarette and begin to absentmindedly pick at the strings. Then the inspiration strikes me and I begin to play the opening chords of Lynyrd Skynard’s “Simple Man”. I stop playing to take another drag off the cigarette and then wedge it back in the ashtray. I begin to play again a little rusty at first but then I catch my groove and muscle memory kicks in. I finish the song and hear applause from behind me. I look over my shoulder to see my daughter Jules.
“I really wish you would play more often, like you used to.”, she says with a radiant smile on her face. “You really ought to try and learn something new though”, she says with a smile as she hands me something that she had obviously just printed off. “Shinedown eh?”, I smile at her. I swear if the child smiled any bigger her face would crack. “Yeah, and I think you should practice it and sing it for her.”, she says now with a more serious expression. I read the lyrics and then pick up the pick again. I begin to play slowly at first, more saying the lyrics than singing them. I pause for a moment and take a sip of lukewarm coffee, making a face and making my daughter laugh. “Let me get you some fresh, and then you can tell me what’s going on.”, she takes my cup away from me and I put the guitar to the side. I lit another cigarette, since the previous attempt to smoke had burned up in the ashtray.
Jules quickly returned with my coffee and I smiled in gratitude. Taking a sip, I then set the cup down. “Spill”, she says almost like a drill sergeant. I laugh as I pick up my cigarette, I take a deep drag in an effort to forestall the inquisition and organize my thoughts. “I don’t know that there’s much to tell to be honest kiddo.”, I say in a matter of fact way. “Daddy, I call bullshit on that. I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. Something else is going on here.”, she returns my matter of fact tone. I smile at my blunt force trauma kid, “Tact child, you must learn tact.”. “Ain’t nobody got time for that Daddy.”, she quips as I take another drink, almost forcing coffee up my nose. “Well, I thought things were going well, but I haven’t been able to get her on the phone in order to talk to her.”. She catches sight of my tablet and the image displayed there, “I saw that live on television, what do you think that look is?”. I smirk at my daughter, “I know that look all too well, I’ve worn it many times throughout my career.”. Now it was her turn to smirk, “The real question is, what do you plan to do about it?”.
Fade
