Just Beyond the Curve (5 page)

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I’d like to record a song and get famous for my
Momma and Daddy,” he replied honestly.

“Wouldn’t we all,” the girl mused. “Time is a hundred
dollars an hour and there is a three week waiting list. Are you
with a label?”

“No, I’m with Judy Rivers,” John said with a
smile.

The girl behind the desk thought hard, then shook her
head negatively, “Doesn’t ring a bell,” she said. “So, should I
book you for three weeks from now?”

“No,” John said seriously. “I need to make the
recording today. Or Misty’s gonna lose her house.”

“Well, that ain’t happening in this town, mister,”
the girl stated knowingly.

“According to Misty it is!”

The girl looked at him blankly, then shook her head
in disbelief. “She may lose her house, but you won’t be recording a
record in this town today. It just doesn’t happen that way.”

“Well, I can’t wait three weeks either, miss.” John
turned and without a backward glance went back out the door.

He walked down the sidewalk to the car, opened the
door and slid inside, closing it after him. He looked defeated.

“Well?” Judy asked.

“She said a hundred dollars an hour and the waiting
list is three weeks long!”

“Well, let’s try another one,” Judy said, pulling out
of the parking place and entering the flow of traffic.

“There’s more than one?” John asked doubtfully.

“Hundreds, maybe,” she said, then smiled over at him.
God, she loved this guy more every minute. She wondered if he had
been raised in a cave, in the middle of the wilderness of the
northwest. He had absolutely no idea of life and the many things he
was missing. What she didn’t know was that John had never been
anywhere but Wimberley, San Marcos, Euling and he had gone to San
Antonio once to see George Straight in concert.

“Without a lot of money,” he said defeated, “what’s
the use?”

“Someone will recognize a good thing when they see
it. In this case,
hear
it;
you
. I’ll talk to them,
okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed readily. “I don’t like talking to
people. I’m not very smart, you know?”

“You’ll do, John Travis,” she said glancing over at
him with love in her eyes and heart. John completely missed her
meaning.

“I love you Judy,” he said earnestly. She felt her
heart leap in her chest, then plummet when he continued. “You’re
like a big sister, looking out for me.”

He failed to see her smile sag and her eyes turn
misty. She wanted to be more than a big sister to him. And she had
just realized it. She was in love with this big lug she had only
known for three months. And he looked at her as a big sister! Well,
she decided, she’d have to change that!

She smiled inwardly, pulled to the curb and parked in
front of a Pawn Shop. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be right
back.”

“Hope you’re not gonna buy a gun and shoot me,” he
said seriously, pointing at the pawn shop sign.

Judy pointed to a sign that said
JACKSON RECORDING
STUDIO
in large black letters. “Nothing that serious, yet,” she
laughed pointing at the other sign. “I feel lucky,” she said
confidently, climbing out of the Monte Carlo and striding straight
to the door and inside without pause or hesitation.

She stepped into the clean, air-conditioned lobby and
her confidence faltered on the way to the desk where a very pretty
mid-twenties, black haired receptionist sat looking serious. The
nameplate on the desk identified her as Sandra Jackson. She
wondered if the woman was the owner, or the daughter, or wife, of
the owner.

Sandra Jackson watched the serious young woman come
through the door and saw her resolve falter slightly, then return.
She hoped the woman had a pocket full of money she was wanting to
spend on a recording session. Truth was Jackson Recording was
heading for the rocks under full sail and rudderless. This woman
could very possibly be their salvation. “May I help you?” she asked
hopefully.

“You wanna make a million dollars before the end of
the year?” Judy asked seriously, realizing she had nothing to lose
by being bold.

“We all want that, Sugar,” Sandra replied with a
smile.

“You donate some recording time and I’ll share my
secret with you.”

“Nothing’s free, Sugar,” Sandra replied, her heart
faltering, realizing this woman was wanting a freebee. “If I don’t
like what I hear, who pays?”

“With my secret weapon you’ll think your investment
was a God-send. Deal or no?”

Sandra started to say no. Then she saw the fire
burning in this young girl’s eyes. She realized this girl was much
too serious and confident. After all she would know within seconds
if this girl could sing or not. She could always erase the tape and
go back to sitting at her desk like a trap door spider, hoping,
waiting for her next meal to come by. She had nothing to lose!

“How much time do you need and when will you be
ready?” Sandra asked, deciding to give this girl a chance.

“You’ll know within the first few minutes or so.
You’ve got nothing to lose, really,” Judy said, biting her lip
nervously, afraid this woman was going to say no.

“True,” Sandra said thoughtfully, knowing there was
no one in any of the three recording studios. “I won’t even run the
tape until I’m convinced it’ll be worth it. So, let’s hear it,
Sugar,” she smiled sweetly up at Judy.

“I’ll be right back,” Judy said, turning to the door
in a rush.

When she was gone Sandra picked up the phone and
punched three numbers. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. She
loved this business. Who knew, at any moment another Elvis Presley,
or Hank Williams could walk in off the street and make her a
wealthy woman. “Toby, prepare studio three for a demo, please.”

“You got a payer?”

“Maybe,” she replied, not liking to admit she is
giving away recording time and tape when they were in such
disparate need of money. She replaced the phone and sat
waiting.

When the door opened she thought she was seeing a
ghost. She had seen this man on an album cover before. Well, maybe
not. This guy wasn’t near old enough to be on an album cover. He
didn’t look to be more than twenty or so.

“This is John Travis, Junior and I’m Judy Rivers, his
manager. He’s going to make us rich!”

“Quite a weapon,” Sandra said with a friendly smile,
recognizing the name of the country star from long ago.

“And Momma and Daddy proud!” John said with a large
serious smile.

When he spoke Sandra had her doubts. He sounded far
too
simple
; maybe a little retarded. Well, she thought,
we’ll know in a minute whether he’s pulling my leg or not. She knew
Judy seemed convinced.

“Follow me, please,” Sandra said, leading the way to
the studio door. “Let’s see what ya got, big boy,” she added with a
hopeful laugh, then gasped silently when he opened the guitar case
and she saw the antique Martin D-10.

At least he knew quality guitars when he chose
one.

Sandra left the recording room and went into the
sound booth. She and Toby watched as Judy and John prepared.

“No tape,” Sandra said. “We’ll just listen for a
minute.”

“Another freebee, Sis?” Toby grinned. “Either he has
it or he don’t,” he added, crossing his fingers. “Our pockets pray
he does! We’re down to the bone here, Sis!”

“You ain’t gotta tell me!” she replied sadly,
reaching forward and flipping a switch on the console. “When you’re
ready, John,” she said.

“I’m nervous as a blind cat in a dog kennel!”

“Just relax,” Judy said. “Think about your momma and
daddy up there listening to you down here. Sing for them, John. No
one else.” Judy stepped to one side and lowered the microphone so
that John had to look up at it slightly.

John played the intro to his chosen song and got
through the first line before he was interrupted by Sandra. “Hold
it! Hold it!” she screamed excitedly.

John looked up nervously. Scared, starting to protest
at not really being given a chance.

“Put this man on tape, Toby!” she said. “He’s a
miracle! We’re talking contract before somebody else beats us to
him! Pipe it through to me. I want to hear it all. We’ll dub the
band over him!” she continued going out the door and back toward
her desk out front. “I’m callin’ Allen!”

Toby laughed. He had never seen Sandra this excited
before. Even when the
real
Allen Jackson had chosen their
studio to record one of his albums. He wondered what the real Allen
Jackson thought of their Uncle having his name.

“Do it again, John,” Toby said through the
microphone, smiling. “Tape’s rolling. We’ll need ten or twelve of
your songs.”

Judy began to bounce excitedly. She hugged and kissed
John on the cheek and lips.

“I only have my daddy’s songs,” John said honestly,
smiling at Judy’s excitement.

“We’ll record the ones you want to record,” Toby
assured him.

“I want to record them all!”

“We don’t have time for that, now. Just ten or twelve
of them for now.”

John shrugged his shoulders and began again. As the
music flowed from the D-10 Toby began to rock from side to side
with the beat of the beautiful country song he was hearing. And he
didn’t even like country music.

In the lobby Sandra was talking excitedly on the
phone. She was inviting musicians to come and work with a new
singer they had discovered. When the last of the five had agreed
she hung up and dialed one more number. A look of worry crossed her
face as she listened to the phone ring on the other end.

“Allen, I need some help,” she said nervously when
her uncle Allen answered his phone. “I’ve got a miracle in my
studio. I need some money. Cash! To seal the deal and get him under
contract! Will you help me?”

“Not another miracle, Sandra,” he replied
skeptically. “I don’t know how many more I can stand.”

“Just listen to this,” she said, turning the volume
up on her desk speaker and holding the phone close to it.

“Sandy! Sandy! Sandy!” Allen screamed into his phone,
hearing all he needed to hear and knowing instantly that she had
finally found a winner!

Sandra heard his tinny voice over John’s singing, but
decided to let him get a little more hooked before she brought the
phone back to her ear and lowered the volume on the speaker. “Well,
what’d you think?”

“I’ll be there in half an hour with some money and a
contract. Hold that boy tight, girl!” Allen said, then started to
hang up.

“He ain’t going anywhere, Uncle Allen!” she
promised.

“Oh yes he is, too!” Allen disagreed, then hung
up.

CHAPTER FIVE

When Allen and Adam Trevor, his entertainment
attorney, came through the door Judy stood from behind her desk and
greeted them nervously. She couldn’t believe her Uncle Allen was
smiling. A sense of foreboding came over her and she felt like she
was about to get screwed.

“Where’s your singer?” Allen asked seriously,
extending his hand and smiling like a hungry cat.

“He’s around,” she replied evasively, dropping
Allen’s hand and taking Trevor’s. It was warm and dry, as always.
She smiled at him and he smiled back. She thought he was maybe one
of the handsomest men she had ever met. She didn’t know what he
thought of her, though. He had never made even the slightest pass
at her. She was nearly convinced that he was gay.

She was one hundred percent wrong. Adam was instantly
aroused when his hand touched Sandra’s. It was all he could do to
keep from taking her into his arms and kissing her roughly, then
raping her after he bound and gagged her. However, he knew she
wouldn’t go for that. She was not ready for the ‘
rough
trade
’. And that was all he was interested in. If it wasn’t
rough, it wasn’t right as far as he was concerned. He was a solid
member of Fantasy’s, in Kansas City, and proud of it!

“Well, let’s get somewhere and sit down,” Allen said
impatiently. “I’ve got other things to do besides this.”

Sandra knew Allen had his fingers in a lot of pies
around Austin and San Antonio; even in New Braunfels! Everything
from oil to cattle, real estate to insurance, he was a wealthy man
and he loved his only niece beyond measure. He had given her the
money to build her recording studio and keep it going for the past
year. He had even paid Allen Jackson to record one of his albums
there, without letting Sandra know, hoping to give her new business
a boost. It hadn’t worked out quite as well as he had hoped. For
the most part all the big name stars were building their own
recording studios in their multimillion dollar mansions and putting
the independents, like Sandra, out of business. But, he would not
be the one to tell her that. Now, he hoped this young singer would
be her salvation. If she could make him a star, there is no way he
would ever forget what she had done for him.

John and Judy shook hands with Allen, Adam and Toby
when they entered the office from the recording studio where they
had just finished the sixth song.

“Son,” Allen stated knowingly. “You’re gonna be a
star. If you got the grit to handle it. Bein’ on the road ten
months out of the year ain’t an easy job. You’ll earn every penny
you make. Believe me!”

“I promised my Momma and Daddy,” John said simply,
then took a chair beside Judy.

They sat across the long table from Allen, Sandra,
Adam and Toby. John was straight across from Adam and Judy sat in
front of Allen. The two groups looked at each other expectantly,
hoping the other would make them rich. With the exception of Allen.
He was already a multimillionaire. But, he was also from the old
school that believed he could never have enough. Money was for the
making and he fully intended to get all he could before he died,
even knowing he couldn’t take it with him. He had kids he would
leave it to and a couple of charities he fully believed in.