Blues Brothers 2000? It never happened. Special thanks to my Beta - Delilah Kelley.
Chicago, Illinois
Sept 10, 1995
He couldn't even hear the sound of the trains go by anymore. But in that small six by six cube of a box he spent his nights, he sure could feel them. The roaring and the rolling of the wheels shook him and everything around him. At least at night, they didn't pass by so frequently.
He didn't hear the tapping on the plexi-glass either. That thick sheet of plexi-glass separated Elwood Blues from the rest of the world. Still, on the other side of the glass, on the inside, he at least had the company of his harmonica. It helped him pass the long lonely hours alone, when no one came by.
The tapping on the plexi-glass continued. The tap escalated into an anxious rap. It must have been the plexi-glass shaking under the pounding fist that finally caught his attention.
Elwood Blues pulled the harmonica from his lips and looked up.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't hear you," he said slowly. "I was blowing on my harp."
An annoyed voice responded. It was more of an order than a response. And it was just one word.
"Two."
Elwood looked down to see the ten dollar bill being slipped under the small opening under the plexi-glass shield. He took it, and exchanged it for two subway tokens, some coins, and a few single dollar bills. He slid them back underneath the opening, watched the man take them, turn, and head towards the turnstiles.
Elwood often wondered why they let him work there, for the Chicago Transit Authority. The ex-con, handling all that money? It didn't make any sense to him, but his parole officer helped him get the job, so he figured they knew he probably wouldn't steal the cash.
Probably.
And what job could he possibly have that would be perfectly safe from him? Everyone got the Sticky Finger Employee Discount now and then, didn't they? Even the business suit types took home staplers and pencils from the office, right?
Collecting tolls for the CTA was alright. Everything would be ok, just as long as he wasn't allowed to conduct the trains. He often wondered how fast he could make them go, if he ever got the chance.
Anyway, he didn't mind it too much. The sound of the train didn't bother him. And the time alone, working the graveyard shift, at least gave him lots of time to play his music. But it didn't give him a lot of time to get together with the band, take in the local scene, or even find an open Mike night gig here or there.
Maybe that was the whole point.
It was an ok gig, anyway. It paid for the room and board at the hotel, left him with some cash at the end of the week. It was the first real straight job he had for a long while. But he missed the band. Most of all, he missed his brother, Jake.
He always figured Jake would make it through, and eventually get out again. His charm, his personality, and his ability to find a way to get contraband while inside always landed him a place on the top of the pecking order in the joint. It wasn't surprising, he guessed, that at some point, some young punk would try to get on top. Elwood just never thought his brother would lose that showdown.
At least he didn't leave this world the same way he came into it - crying and naked, ready for a diaper. Jake probably would have been ok with it if it meant leaving the world as you emerged from between the legs of a chick he hardly knew. But it never really worked that way, did it? At least Jake died with his pants on, which was more than anyone could say for lots of the poor bastards who found their fate in the joint.
Deep in thought, Elwood didn't notice the tapping at the plexi-glass. This time, though, the tapping was followed by a key in the door.
"Hey, Elwood. Long night?"
"Yeaaah-up," he responded, as he gathered up his paperwork, and started to make ready for the new shift.
"Got plans for the day."
"Yeaaaah-up. Breakfast."
Elwood walked into the Soul Food Cafe. The place was emptying out from the morning breakfast crowd. He sat down at the end of the counter and waited only a few moments before his friend, Matt "Guitar" Murphy noticed him.
"Elwood! Good to see you!"
The two shook hands, as if they had not seen each other in some time. In fact they hadn't. Matt's parole for some old subversive political activities came years earlier than Elwood's release. Several million dollars worth of damages, hundreds of moving violations, and countless charges of public endangerment usually called for longer incarceration periods.
"Hey, you want some toast?"
"I'm putting the band back together."
"Oh, no. Not again, man. Not this time..."
That's when she emerged from the kitchen. It was the same scene, replaying over again.
"Oh, no!" she cried out. "Not again, you don't!"
"I already told him no, baby."
"Matt, I need this. It's what Jake would have wanted."
"Don't you ever learn?" Mrs. Murphy approached Elwood. "Who you gonna get to sing with you,
anyway... fool?"
"She's right, Elwood. There's no way we're gonna replace that sound. You have to let it go."
Elwood folded his arms in front of him and thought for a moment. Finally he simply said
"Elvis Presley."
"What?" Matt asked, a bit confused.
"Earl Hooker. Elmore James. Muddy Waters." Elwood's expression was blank, as he rattled off the names of the dead like an impromtu liturgy. "The music doesn't die, Matt."
Mrs. Murphy shook her head and rolled her eyes.
"You ain't going on the road again, Matt," she said, in an uncharacteristically calm voice. "You ain't gonna leave me alone, again."
"What we need, Matt, is someone who can carry the band." Elwood continued, ignoring the woman in front of him. "Strong voice, big presence."
"Elwood, you can't replace Jake. You know that..."
Elwood dropped his head silently, and nodded. "Yeaaah-up. No replacing Jake. But we can keep the music alive. It's gotta stay alive, man!"
"You want to sing all the old songs, again, without him?"
"Old songs..." Elwood waxed, philosophical. "New songs. It don't matter, does it? There just has to be music."
"I told you, Matt, you ain't leaving me here alone, again!" This time, she spoke up in a strong and powerful voice. There was no way to ignore her.
"M'am, it'll just be one or two nights a week," Elwood stated, as if the deal was already signed. "I have a job now, anyway, so I couldn't do more than that myself. Just a few gigs, now and then. You know, a few local places. Just to keep the music alive..."
Mrs. Murphy looked at Elwood, then looked at the anxious face of her husband. It was clear that he was going to go, one way or the other. She shook her head in disgust, rolling her eyes. Remembering the last time Elwood Blues darkened the door of the Soul Food Cafe, she smirked.
"Well...shoot! Where you gonna get a lead singer?" she finally asked, skeptical.
"Something will turn up."
"They're gonna have to be big," the large woman conceded, finally giving up the fight. "A real powerful voice! You know it's gotta knock the chandeliers right off the ceiling!"
"Yes, M'am..."
"Otherwise, you're just wasting your time," she added. "And Matt's."
"Oh, baby!" Matt said, turning to his wife. "You mean it?"
Rolling her eyes, shaking her head, she nodded.
"Yeah..." she finally said, in disgust. "You just ain't leaving me again, y'hear? I'm gonna keep a real close eye on you, this time."
He leaned over and hugged her tightly. She pulled away from him, then looked at Elwood, like a mother inspecting a dirty child who had just come in from the playground covered with mud.
"If Matt goes and plays with you, it's only two nights a week. No more."
"Yes, M'am," Elwood said politely.
She paused, looking him over again. "And you make sure he's ready for church, 9 am, Sunday morning. All this stops if he can't get to church."
"Yes'sm."
Mrs. Murphy shifted in her place, and wrapped her arms around her chest, echoing Elwood's own position.
"And one thing's for sure!" she added, smirking, and wobbling her head. "I ain't wearing that stupid get up."
Elwood eyes opened wide. He looked at the woman, standing in front of him, full of strength and confidence. His eyes slowly moved to look at Matt, then slowly returned to her.
Elwood's whole expression changed, as his smile widened across his face. He let out a small laugh. Matt, finally realizing what she meant, grabbed his wife and hugged her tight.
"Oh, baby! You sure about this?"
"Damn straight, I am! Someone's gotta bring a little class to your sad old act...and if this is the only way I'm gonna keep an eye on you..."
She smiled, then began to hum and sing an old, familiar tune. This time, however, her voice was softer than usual, although just as powerful.
"You need me, and I need you. Without each other, ain't nothin' people can do..."
Elwood looked up at the sky, in an overly optimistic way. "Good choice, Jake," he whispered through his smile.
"And you know, you're gonna have to change your name," she finally added, as her husband released her from his grasp.
"What kind of name is "The Blues Brother Band," anyway...?" She drew out the name of the band, like it left a bitter taste on her tongue. Then she added a "Hmph!" to finish the thought.
"Bad enough when it when you was called "The Blues Brothers..."
Elwood nodded in agreement. As much as he knew this could work, she was right. They would have to change the name. After all, it wasn't the Blues Brothers Band anymore.
It couldn't be.
No one could ever replace his brother Jake.