Drowning in Neptune’s Pool-4
567 Words
On Saturday, I stayed home and practiced a few tunes. Landry had said he’d be busy that weekend, and we wouldn’t be able to practice until Monday after work. Hovis would be there again.
I wondered if Landry was using Hovis as a shield. Sure, he added to our burgeoning sound, but we didn’t really need him. I wondered if I should push the issue, but decided it wasn’t that big a deal. Not yet, anyway.
On Monday, I cleaned a new client’s pool, Radcliff Charmante. He was some kind of writer and worked from home. The job wasn’t too hard, except the owner of the pool was amorous. I was sooo not interested. I fended off his unwanted advances as best I could, and when I returned to the office, I told Pete about Radcliff the Octopus.
“I’m sorry, man. We can drop him from the roster if you want,” Pete said, concerned for my welfare.
“Unless it gets worse, I’ll be fine. I can handle him. I think the guy’s just lonely.”
“Well, you keep me posted,” he replied, and I nodded.
That night, I headed over to Landry’s place and knocked. I heard voices on the other side, and then the door opened.
“Hey, man,” Landry said. “Come on in. We’re having a party.”
I furrowed my brow as I followed him inside. There were three people besides us in his living room. I was a little perturbed. “Uh, what’s going on here, Landry?”
“These are two other guys from the music department. Hovis told them how awesome we were last week, and now they want in on the action, too.” He shrugged.
I sighed mentally. This was getting a little bit out of hand, but all I said was, “I see.”
I greeted Hovis, shook hands with the newcomers, and sat down to see what we could get out of this session. I kept my opinions to myself as Landry led the practice. It was his place, his gig, his rules. Once people started leaving, though, I decided to do the same.
“Wait,” Landry said, when he saw me getting up to go. “You’re not going yet, are you? I wanted to get your opinion on a new piece I’m working on. Please?”
His changeable eyes pleaded with me to stay, and I was a sucker to let them pull me in.
“Sure, okay.” Wimp.
When it was just to two of us, Landry was calm and had a lot less manic energy. But when other people were involved, he changed. I much preferred the way he was when we were alone. He debuted the music for me, and it was gorgeous. I complimented him on it, but reminded him that I had to work in the morning, just like he did.
Disappointed, he walked me to his door and opened it. “You want to spend some time together tomorrow night?” he asked. “We can work on some stuff, just us.”
I looked at him. “You mean that?” I asked, really wanting him to mean it this time.
“Absolutely,” he said.
I arrived the next night, and before I could knock, the door opened.
“Hey, man,” he said, barring entry into his place. “Something came up, and I won’t be able to practice tonight, all right? We’re still on for the weekly jam session on the roof, though, okay?”
I was disappointed, but it was out of my control. “Sure, I understand.”
He gave me a relieved smile. “Thanks, Jimmy, I appreciate it. I—”
A deep male voice cut in. “Landry, honey, I need you, baby. Please?”
Oh. Well, that told me, didn’t it?
“Later, Landry.” I walked back to my apartment to sulk and strum my banjo.
- Writer
