Take It With Me
With A Suitcase
“Good evening, sunshine! Wake up, Tom!"
Tom startled awake, jerking up and hitting his head on the van window.
“What the actual hell is going on?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
“We’re here. In San Diego. At the hotel. We gotta go in and get changed and then man, you’re back at the Heritage club!”
Slimy Anthony was hunched over Tom, grinning.
“It’s time to go make some money!” he sang, bouncing out of the van and dragging his suitcase into room 109.
“That is just unnatural,” Tom mumbled, picking up his own suitcase and stepping out of the van. It felt good to stretch, to move his legs. He had to pee.
But he was going back to the Heritage.
Excitement pulsed through Tom as he thought about performing on that stage again. Ever since he was a kid, sweeping up at Napoleon’s for a dollar an hour, he had loved singing there. He remembered talent night, up on the rickety stage, singing into the microphone with the handkerchief draped over it.
If there was one thing he loved in the world, it was the Heritage.
“Come on, Tom! You’re in 110 with Wayne! Go get yourself ready, we’re on in 45 minutes!” Anthony called from the doorway of his hotel room, his shirt unbuttoned and his fly already down. He tossed Tom a room key and retreated back inside, slamming the door.
“Why do we keep him around?”
Tom jumped, not realizing that Wayne was standing right beside him.
“Damn, man, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” Tom yelped, making his way to the room.
“Sorry, Tom,” Wayne said. “But seriously. Why do we keep him around?”
“Cause he gets us good gigs?” Tom said.
“True,” Wayne shrugged. They both lumbered into the room, which was dark and small and just like any other motel room you got on this side of town. Tom was disappointed that he had to share with Wayne. Even though it was big enough and had two double beds and would do for a few nights.
But he still hated having to share a hotel room.
Wayne sat down on the bed, pulled off his shoes and socks, and laid back on the bed, sighing heavily.
“Tell me man, for real. That girl. You liked her a lot, didn’t you?”
Tom flinched. He hadn’t thought of Kitty since he’d fallen asleep in the van.
Well, more accurately, he hadn’t purposely thought of Kitty since he’d fallen asleep in the van.
“Yeah. I liked her. But she was just a girl. There’s plenty of girls in every city,” Tom mumbled, running his hands through his hair and readjusting his hat.
“But this one was special. I can tell. You ain’t got all quiet over a girl in forever. Not since-“
“Don’t mention her, Wayne. That’s the past,” Tom said, not wanting to bring up old girlfriends with Wayne. Man, the guy had no tact. None at all.
“But still. You gonna go back for her?”
Tom shrugged.
“Maybe. Or maybe I want to enjoy being free. Being young and unattached and able to sleep with just as many pretty girls as I like.”
Wayne sat up, sizing Tom up.
“You ain’t that kind of guy. Not deep down. Everybody knows that, Tom. You might play this rambling, love ‘em and leave ‘em game, but you want a nice girl to settle down with, don’t you?”
Tom didn’t like where this was going.
“Leave off, Wayne. I might go see Kitty again. Or I might not. Just depends.”
“Oh, so her name is Kitty?” Wayne smiled.
“Yeah, her name’s Kitty. What of it?” Tom snapped.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”
Wayne lumbered into the bathroom and Tom rolled his eyes.
No good ever came out of bringing a dame into a tour.
Tom startled awake, jerking up and hitting his head on the van window.
“What the actual hell is going on?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
“We’re here. In San Diego. At the hotel. We gotta go in and get changed and then man, you’re back at the Heritage club!”
Slimy Anthony was hunched over Tom, grinning.
“It’s time to go make some money!” he sang, bouncing out of the van and dragging his suitcase into room 109.
“That is just unnatural,” Tom mumbled, picking up his own suitcase and stepping out of the van. It felt good to stretch, to move his legs. He had to pee.
But he was going back to the Heritage.
Excitement pulsed through Tom as he thought about performing on that stage again. Ever since he was a kid, sweeping up at Napoleon’s for a dollar an hour, he had loved singing there. He remembered talent night, up on the rickety stage, singing into the microphone with the handkerchief draped over it.
If there was one thing he loved in the world, it was the Heritage.
“Come on, Tom! You’re in 110 with Wayne! Go get yourself ready, we’re on in 45 minutes!” Anthony called from the doorway of his hotel room, his shirt unbuttoned and his fly already down. He tossed Tom a room key and retreated back inside, slamming the door.
“Why do we keep him around?”
Tom jumped, not realizing that Wayne was standing right beside him.
“Damn, man, give me a heart attack, why don’t you?” Tom yelped, making his way to the room.
“Sorry, Tom,” Wayne said. “But seriously. Why do we keep him around?”
“Cause he gets us good gigs?” Tom said.
“True,” Wayne shrugged. They both lumbered into the room, which was dark and small and just like any other motel room you got on this side of town. Tom was disappointed that he had to share with Wayne. Even though it was big enough and had two double beds and would do for a few nights.
But he still hated having to share a hotel room.
Wayne sat down on the bed, pulled off his shoes and socks, and laid back on the bed, sighing heavily.
“Tell me man, for real. That girl. You liked her a lot, didn’t you?”
Tom flinched. He hadn’t thought of Kitty since he’d fallen asleep in the van.
Well, more accurately, he hadn’t purposely thought of Kitty since he’d fallen asleep in the van.
“Yeah. I liked her. But she was just a girl. There’s plenty of girls in every city,” Tom mumbled, running his hands through his hair and readjusting his hat.
“But this one was special. I can tell. You ain’t got all quiet over a girl in forever. Not since-“
“Don’t mention her, Wayne. That’s the past,” Tom said, not wanting to bring up old girlfriends with Wayne. Man, the guy had no tact. None at all.
“But still. You gonna go back for her?”
Tom shrugged.
“Maybe. Or maybe I want to enjoy being free. Being young and unattached and able to sleep with just as many pretty girls as I like.”
Wayne sat up, sizing Tom up.
“You ain’t that kind of guy. Not deep down. Everybody knows that, Tom. You might play this rambling, love ‘em and leave ‘em game, but you want a nice girl to settle down with, don’t you?”
Tom didn’t like where this was going.
“Leave off, Wayne. I might go see Kitty again. Or I might not. Just depends.”
“Oh, so her name is Kitty?” Wayne smiled.
“Yeah, her name’s Kitty. What of it?” Tom snapped.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”
Wayne lumbered into the bathroom and Tom rolled his eyes.
No good ever came out of bringing a dame into a tour.