Set in 1985 with all the music of today and Jake is still alive.
Dedicated to the memory of Alan Rubin, "Mr. Fabulous"
Chapter 1: Need A Techie
About 100 miles outside Calumet City, a small pub sat at the corner of a rotary and the highway with a brightly lit neon sign that advertised NEIL'S WATERING HOLE in blue letters. The W and the H were burnt out and flickering oddly in the night sky, and the entire sign gave off a buzzing noise that one could clearly hear even from a few feet away. The tavern was awash with light which streamed out of the windows, inside it smelled like cigarette smoke and there was a thick aroma of whiskey and beer. At one end of the tavern on a ramshackle stage, a ten man band was set up and the lead singer was replacing his microphone.
"Thank you and good night!" he announced with a flourish as the audience applauded politely. Jake Blues nodded and accepted the applause as did the band and his taller brother Elwood Blues. They began to dismantle the equipment as the owner of the tavern shepherded the last of the drunks out of his establishment. A few protested, but the bouncer showed them the way out and none would dare argue with him.
"Shit!" the band's drummer Willie exclaimed as an amp wire came loose from its socket. "Got a technical prob here, guys."
Elwood picked up the wire and noted the casing had been shredded, probably from all the rough handling it got frequently, and pulled the socket piece out of the other end. He put the piece in his pocket, becoming aware that Jake was looking over his shoulder. Elwood picked up the amp and with a grunt, managed to open the door leading to the back parking lot with Jake following him, arms full of extension cords and microphones.
"Think you can fix this thing, Elwood?"
"Nope. Sorry, man." they popped the trunk of the Dodge in the dim light and began to shuffle the equipment into the dark interior. The band was doing that themselves on the other side with Murph's Cadillac, many of them grunting and uttering little complaints to themselves. All of them knew Jake didn't stand for the complaining so they kept it to themselves.
"Come on man, I don't believe you don't know how to fix this stuff," Jake lit up a cigarette with one hand and exhaled deeply as Elwood put an amp in the back of the Bluesmobile. Elwood, exhausted from their gig, turned and looked at his brother.
"I'm only good with cars, I don't know this stuff, Jake!" the edge in his voice marked his fatigue and Jake noticed it. As much as he pretended otherwise, he was ultrasensitive to Elwood's moods. The band muttered behind them, coming out of the back door with the instruments in their cases. It was nearing midnight and they stacked up the cases the best they could, tying some to the roof of the Cadillac.
"All right, all right, man. Sorry," Jake took another drag and sat in the shotgun seat of the Dodge. "we should hire a technical person who can fix this stuff, what do you think?"
"I'm game," Elwood got in and waited as Alan, Tom, and Murph crowded in the backseat. "When do we start checking resumes?"
"After this gig. We should send out a flier and put an ad in the local paper. I'll start drafting one." Jake pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil from the glove box and somehow despite the sunglasses and the darkness, he started writing.
"What are you guys talking about up there?" Murph switched his gaze from the scenery outside his window to the two brothers in the front seats.
"Well, Elwood and I have decided to hire a technician to tend to all this electrical stuff that we don't know how to fix." Jake replied as he scratched out a misspelled word.
"About time," Alan remarked sourly from his side of the car. "the last thing we need is to learn how to fix all this stuff that keeps shitting the bed!"
Elwood smirked. Alan sometimes had a funny way of phrasing things. Tom grunted, falling asleep already. Signaling for a turn, Elwood coasted the car down a small hill and turned right to a local inn a few miles from the highway. The sleepy band got out of the cars and fumbled for their room keys as Jake picked up the pad of paper and brought it with him into the foyer of the inn.
Lost in thought for a few minutes, he scribbled down what the job entailed and handed the scrap of paper to Elwood for his approval. His brother nodded, nearly asleep on his feet himself, and Jake sent off an overnight letter to the newspaper to run it for the next day.
"Hey Jake, remember the Palace Hotel gig a few years ago?" Elwood untied his tie and hung it up on a coat hanger as he took off his jacket.
"What about it?" that had been a near failure in his eyes. Five years ago he'd gotten out of the jail and against his wishes, Elwood forced him to see the Penguin, or the mother superior nun who had raised them in a church-run orphanage when they were kids. The Penguin told them of the dire situation with the orphanage and how it needed about five thousand dollars to pay back taxes and stay current. Jake had volunteered to go steal the money, but the Penguin insisted it be legitimate cash from honest work. Stymied, the two brothers had paid a visit to Curtis, their mentor from the days at the orphanage and surrogate father. Curtis told them to go to church and though reluctant, Elwood had talked Jake into it. Jake came up with the idea to use the band to play some gigs and get the money that way.
The band was less than enthusiastic about returning, though they all did. Alan took the most convincing and he was unfailingly sour in his past history with the Blues Brothers. He had been a maitre'd at a hoity-toity French restaurant when the brothers came to harangue him and under coersion, he relented. Jake suspected Alan didn't like his job much anyway and missed the traveling days of the band. Whether that was true, Alan would never admit it.
After an incident at a country bar and restaurant, the band got the Palace Hotel, spent all day canvassing the towns to build up media hype, they were late to their own gig. Elwood and Jake ran out of gas, the tanker truck was late, and by the time they arrived, the cops had swarmed over the Palace Hotel ballroom. They'd parked in a tunnel and played the gig, beating a hasty retreat with the money, drove through the night, and eluded cops from all over the state in their haste to get the money to the tax collector. Though they did it, they were booked by the cops and sent to jail.
The band was let out after about three months, given that they were unwitting accomplices to Jake and Elwood's scheme, and the two brothers themselves were let out after 5 years for good behavior. The brothers had kissed ass to get out, done all they could to prove they'd changed, and it worked. They had been out for six months now and hadn't gotten into any trouble.
Reuniting the band wasn't very hard, as their escapades a few years ago had gone public, and every employer was reluctant to hire them. Matt was the only exception, along with Lou, going right back to the cafe where they had worked previously. Duck, Steve, and Tom were doing guest spots on a local radio show but not much else, Willie had just gotten married, Alan was doing some trumpet work for a few local musicians, and Murph was looking for work.
"Wouldn't it be great if we had another gig like that?" Elwood was starry-eyed under his sunglasses. Jake snorted.
"I'd rather not have all the pressure like we did El, remember?" the pressure to deliver a great show, the audience's money's worth, etc. They were a low budget venue and the opulence of the place made Jake feel rather shoddy with the ragtag band. He'd heard Alan snark with Steve about how they felt too inadequate to perform at such a grand place and he knew his surly trumpeter had been right.
"Oh yeah," Elwood smiled to himself, causing Jake to scowl. "it was a night to remember."
"Go to bed, El!" Jake threw a pillow at him, not remembering the night with fondness at all.
That night's gig hadn't been bad at all, Elwood reminisced to himself. Except for the amp failing at the end of their set, everything had gone off without a hitch. To everyone's relief, there was no chicken wire as far as the eye could see and their audience wasn't a bunch of drunken louts. They liked the songs and got up to dance freely amongst themselves. They had been paid well and with a word of warning to the band about only taking one beer each, it all worked out well for them.
"Good night, Jake." Elwood was in his black pajamas and settling into the other twin bed in the room. Jake sat up and pulled off his hat and shades.
"Good night, Elwood." he responded as he tugged at his tie.
The next day they were all up and back on the road to their home town of Calumet City. Elwood and Jake had together rented out a decent two bedroom apartment in the complex where a few of the other band members lived as well. Parking the Dodge in the lot, they took their bags into the apartment and as soon as Jake turned the key in the lock, they heard the phone ring.
Fumbling with the door, Jake swore and dropped his keys as Elwood pushed the now unlocked door open and grabbed up the phone on the third ring. "Elwood."
"Elwood? Sline here."
"How's it going, Sline?"
"Not bad. I'm glad I caught you guys. You just get back?"
"Yeah. Traffic wasn't too bad."
"Listen, I saw your ad in the paper today and I wanna tell ya that you will have no more technical problems. I got someone here who is available to travel with you and help out in repairs."
"Already? That's great. When can we meet him?"
"Come in around noontime, all right? I've got you all set up with the next gig as well. Details when I see you."
"All right. Bye." he hung up and turned to see Jake practically in his lap, waiting for what Sline had to say.
"Sheesh Jake, don't do that to me!" Elwood jumped. "Sline says he has someone who can travel with us and fix our stuff. We go there at noon."
Jake wasn't the least bit apologetic about scaring his brother. "Anything else?"
"Yeah he says he's got a gig for us. We get all the info soon." Elwood crossed to his suitcase and unpacked it, taking the dirty clothes and putting them in the laundry basket. "Come on, get all your stuff in while I'm runnin' a load."
"Fine." Jake tossed in his clothes that were dirty and settled down on the couch to make up some sleep before they left again. Elwood ran the clothes down to the washing machines and set them to work. He sat down and dozed off while they were washing, rousing briefly to shift them into the dryer, then sinking into another doze while the dryer churned and wheezed through the load.
At Sline's office, he gave them the details of their next 6 gigs he'd booked for them, and then gave them the address of the person that would serve as their technical director. Jake and Elwood glanced at each other and thanked Sline for his help. The address had been to a local raceway and apprehensive about what they might find there, drove slowly.
Calumet City Raceway had only been operational for a few years, and when Elwood had gotten out of jail, he insisted on Jake accompanying him to a racetrack night for the amateurs. Jake hadn't wanted to go so Elwood had gone by himself instead, meeting some old acquaintances and staying away half the night to drink and carouse.
Now as they pulled in, they saw a Volkswagon Golf diesel tearing around the track, powersliding into each bend. Tires screeching, the acrid smell of burned rubber wafting up to their noses, both brothers stood at the edge of the track and watched. The driver did a handbrake turn, a J turn, then yanked the car to a stop nearby. A figure in a Nomex jumpsuit with Arai helmet came out. The jumpsuit was dark blue with black edging, the helmet was black, and the person came up to them quietly.
"Um, you're our new technical director?" Elwood nearly stammered as he stared into the black visor of the full face helmet. Black Alpinestar racing gloves came up and removed the helmet, causing both men's jaws to scrape the floor.
"I am." a very pretty lady with dark blonde hair pulled into a braid smiled at them as the braid fell out of the helmet and draped itself on her shoulder. She had dark brown eyes and full pink lips. Her figure was average, not too slim but not really fat either.
"Um, I'm Elwood and this is my brother Jake."
"Charmed." she pulled off her right glove and shook hands with both of them. "I'm Melody Calloway."
"I know you!" Elwood blurted out. "You came in 4th on the last race!"
"So I did," Melody looked amused. "if I had a turbo on this thing I would have made it!"
Jake looked at them both cluelessly as Melody showed off the Golf to Elwood, both of them discoursing thoroughly on the car and its merits. He sighed and leaned against the Dodge, lighting up a smoke and waiting for them patiently to be done with their little get acquainted session.
"...so I think you'll find a diesel is more efficient on fuel than regular gas," they approached Jake several long minutes later. "you do have to bleed the system pretty regularly though."
"Oh, my pit crew does that," Melody admitted. "I couldn't tell you a thing on how that car works."
Elwood chuckled. "What do you drive?"
"A 1980 Mustang."
"Nice. So we got a gig coming up tomorrow night. You ready to meet the band?"
"Sure. Got all my stuff packed away." she unzipped the Nomex jumpsuit to get some air and jumped in her car.
"Got directions?"
"Indeed I do. I'll follow you anyway." Melody put in the key and turned it, producing a loud musical growling of the engine.
"OK well, see you there."
"Will do." she waited for Elwood and Jake to leave first and shifted the car into first gear, ready to follow them. Her fingers were itching to downshift the car into fifth gear, but if she tried that while idling, the car would stall. Building up a number of revs or revolutions was key to an easy down or up shift.
"Let's see what kind of trouble I might get into." Melody mumbled to herself. "even the tracks may not be as fun as this." she'd had an itch to go on the road for awhile.
At the rendezvous point, the band had been loading up the Cadillac until the Mustang glided in behind the Dodge. They stared in surprise as the car came to a leisurely stop and out stepped a lady. Elwood introduced her and the band was introduced to her. Most were looking incredulous at her racing jumpsuit but she chuckled and stripped it off, revealing blue jeans, regular sneakers, a white camisole top and she pulled out a blue hoodie from her backseat and put it on. It was nearing fall so it was comfortable to be outside with no jacket on.
"Pleased to meet you all," she said with an easy smile, leaning against her car. "I've been well educated in amplifier and microphone repair."
"Nice car," Steve looked at it in wonderment as Melody beamed with pride. "can I ride in it?"
"Of course you can."
"She's a racecar driver so you'll need to be careful." Jake warned, but that didn't stop Matt, Steve, and Tom from getting into her car. Melody had enough spare room so all the equipment could be distributed among the 3 cars.
The others organized themselves among the other two cars and began their journey. Elwood liked Melody right off the bat but Jake had his doubts. Maury Sline hadn't steered them wrong before so he was willing to go with what Sline had said about her. The two horn players in the back chattered quietly to themselves as Elwood drove on, often checking his rearview for the other two in their little caravan.
"So what do you think, El? Will she fit in with the band?" Jake tossed a stub out the window.
"I bet she will. She knows what she's doing."
"Well, time will tell."
"You second guessing her, Jake?"
"No, not exactly," he demurred, trying to sort out what he felt. "I have to see her in action then I'll know whether or not she's a good fit with us."
"Cheer up, Jake. Have a little faith." that was something the Penguin was always saying as they grew up. Jake growled and pulled his hat down, shutting his eyes.
When they all pulled in at the diner for lunch, Melody sat with the guitar section and Murph, the brothers sat with the horn players and Willie.
They were all surprisingly quiet, so Matt asked Melody to tell them a little about her racing career. She immediately perked up and sat up straighter in her chair.
"I've been racing since I was 20-I'm almost 30 now, and it's been a blast. I seem to dominate the 4th to 10th places in any race. Just finished fourth in the beach rally a week ago."
"Get cash for that?" Duck asked.
"Only if you finish in 3rd to 1st," she explained. "I haven't gotten there yet but I will."
"I like you attitude."
"Thanks, Matt."
"I hope you haven't had any accidents."
"I've had some, Steve. Some shmuck a few years ago rear ended me and tore one section of my back fender off. My car lost a buttcheek and I was extremely angry about it, let me tell ya. The worst accident ever was when another driver went the wrong way and T-boned me. I was lucky it was on the passenger side and the roll cage protected me."
"Oh god, were you hurt badly?"
"Yes I was, Murph. I don't remember much about it, though. I can't recall even now how I got out of the car. I had a back injury which wasn't bad, a bad sprain, but the worst was a broken left arm and a few cracked ribs."
"Damn."
"Oh yeah. I kept saying that for days afterwards. I didn't need surgery so I was happy about that one."
"Are there any aftereffects from your injuries?"
"Yes," Melody looked knowingly at Murph. "my left arm can predict rain now. It always gives me trouble when rain comes. Sometimes I overextend my back and the old injury flares up. I have to stay horizontal for at least a day until it stops hurting."
"Once again, damn." Steve sympathized. Melody grinned at him as the waitress came over with loaded plates for them.
The others had overheard Melody's talking and they all glanced at each other in turn, then at her. Elwood was thinking about how a person as young as he was had already suffered nasty injuries for her vocation, but he knew racecar driving wasn't an easy task. Melody must have the courage of a lion to overcome those obstacles, he'd reasoned to himself. Doubtless she was hoping to get spotted by a talent scout or any corporation that would sponsor her like Mobil or Sunoco.
"Damn," Lou muttered. "and I thought I had it hard." he cast a furtive glance at Melody who was giggling at something Murph said to her. Jake inclined his head in agreement and looked over at Alan, who was expressionless as usual. Tom was chattering to Willie and Elwood behind his sunglasses had a far off and almost dreamy look in his eye.
When lunch was over, everyone got in the cars in the same order as before. Elwood had no sooner turned onto the interstate when Lou cried out, "Look at that!"
Melody had turned the Mustang into the right lane and was now overtaking the Cadillac. They were sure she'd slide in between the Caddy and the Bluesmobile, but she wasn't satisfied. Egged on by Steve and Matt in the backseat, she threw the car into fifth gear and overtook the Bluesmobile as well.
"Road chicken!" she laughed, speeding ahead. Her passengers cheered her on, turning and waving goodbye to the other cars. Elwood sped up but she anticipated this and went even further ahead.
"Watch her getting pulled over by a cop," Alan said gleefully. "then she'll pay!"
Unfortunately for him, there was no cop to be seen on the interstate. Mildly disappointed, he pouted for a moment as he stared out the window. Lou smirked at his friend, knowing how much he hated to be proven wrong, but said nothing more. Alan kept up a sarcastic and prickly exterior but when one would penetrate that outer shell, he was kind and caring. Lou had figured that out after one road trip where he'd kept up an incessant stream of chatter to Alan, eventually managed to hit on a topic they both liked, and Alan warmed up to him.
In the Caddy, after seeing Melody in the opposite lane, they all encouraged her to pass Elwood and the others and started laughing when she did. Elwood was a hotshot driver though he never flaunted it in front of him. He was famous for powersliding his car into parking spots, much to the consternation of pedestrians nearby who thought he was going to hit their cars.
"I think she'll be in the right place with us." Willie folded his arms and grinned. "She's got spunk."
"Amen to that." Duck agreed.
At the Ramada inn, they stopped off and organized themselves into their hotel rooms. Like usual, Jake and Elwood shared a room and by twos the other bandmembers organized themselves. Murph and Willie, Tom and Lou, Steve and Matt, Duck and Alan all grouped themselves into their rooms with no complaints. Melody was granted a room to herself between Duck and Alan, and Jake and Elwood. She was happy for the consideration and thanked them as she popped the trunk on the Mustang and pulled out her luggage.
"OK gentlemen, bring me your damaged equipment and I'll see what I can do." she announced grandly, opening up her tackle box full of supplies. Melody pulled out what she thought she needed, needlenose pliers, a jack knife, electrical tape, and a reel of small gauge wire.
"Oh, a few needing some rewiring a bit...the connections are bad." she muttered, accepting two microphones from Duck. The cord was ripped in places which exposed the wiring, and the technical director set to work. Using her wirecutters, she stripped off the section of ripped outer casing which exposed the wires, then probed to make sure none of the internal filaments were disturbed. Happy that they were not, Melody took some spare black plastic from her kit and used a hot soldering iron to melt a new piece of plastic as a patch.
"All right, that's done," pushing back her braid, she picked up the other microphone and examined it. Where the cord connected to the microphone itself was frayed and hanging on by a string, so Melody had to what she called resection it. It was easy to cut the remaining filament of wire free, open up the microphone and clean out the connector. She then trimmed the wire to an equal length, discarding the old filaments and wire, then refitted the new section of cord into the microphone connector hole. Melody then melted black plastic to secure the two ends together and reinforced it with a little more plastic.
"These two are done." she put them in the black bag with the rest of the mikes and extension cords, zipping it closed. The band was having a meeting in the other room, Melody did not want to disturb them, so she flopped onto the bed and picked up a magazine from her backpack. She was looking forward to hearing the band that night after supper, but then she caught sight of a notice in the magazine, announcing that amateur night at the drag racing strip was going on and they needed local talent.
It was only 3 p.m, so Melody yawned and stretched out on the bed, knowing there was plenty of time before showtime.
Around 5:30 there was a knock at her door and a muffled voice calling her name. The doorknob rattled and opened up, revealing Elwood and Alan peering into the room.
"Mel?" they saw a still figure on the bed, the hoodie thrown carelessly on the back of a chair. Her toolbox was still open on the desk, the black bag with their electrical equipment in it was on the chair. Elwood ventured further into the room followed by the trumpet player.
Melody lay on the bed on her right side, eyes closed. Beside her lay an automotive magazine, opened up to the events section. Elwood peered at it as Alan closed the blinds in the room. "Think we should wake her up?"
"No. She's had a long day already." Elwood decided as Alan came over and looked at Melody closely, noticing a three inch scar on her left upper arm. He knew she had broken her left lower arm in a car crash, but she'd never mentioned anything about a scar. Idle curiosity reared up and Alan would ask her about that scar later on when he had a minute.
"All right." the trumpet player spread a blanket over Melody, watched her sleep for a moment, then left the room with Elwood.