I don't own the Blues Brothers or the music. All I own is the love.
Story originally submitted to the 2007 Yuletide Obscure Fandom Fanfic Exchange.
Woman #1: In Black and White
St. Helen's of the Blessed Shroud Orphanage,
Calumet City, Illinois.
November 10, 1963, 3:40 pm
The old coal burning furnace kicked in again. It was loud, and in need of repair, but at least it was still working. It was on Curtis' list of things to do before the harsh Chicago winter set in. As the janitor of St. Helen's of the Blessed Shroud Orphanage, Curtis was awfully busy keeping that old building running.
But no matter how busy he got, he always had time to spend with anyone who loved music.
"Elwood! Come on in, boy!" A lanky white boy stood in the doorway, and Curtis waved him in. He motioned towards the rickety old table in the basement room which effectively became his home.
"Sit down, Elwood!" Curtis was genuinely pleased to see the boy, but he was concerned. Elwood was alone. It wasn't often that the 9 year old boy came to see him when he was alone. When he did, that usually meant his best friend - now brother - Jake was in some sort of pickle. While Jake's mischief making always worried Curtis, he was more concerned with the affects they would have on the young and impressionable Elwood.
"Where's Jake?" Curtis asked, as if he didn't know. He held out a chair for his young and quiet friend.
Elwood settled, and the question went unanswered. Curtis repeated himself. "Where's Jake?"
Finally, Elwood replied. "With the Penguin."
Curtis let out a deep sigh. He was a handsome man, sporting a thin mustache. He wore a pair of dark sunglasses, and a black suit and tie. It seemed too formal for a janitor. Still, it worked well on the thirty-something year old man. He wasn't a tall man, but with his neat clothing, and his fatherly demeanor, he had a presence that made him seem bigger than anyone Elwood knew. Anyone, except The Penguin.
"You know you shouldn't be calling Sister Mary that, Elwood."
"But that's what everybody calls her," the boy innocently answered, as a simple matter of fact.
"No, son. That's what Jake calls her."
"But, she looks like a penguin."
Curtis sighed again, as he sat down across the table and handed the boy a pile of old magazines. Elwood's long fingers immediately pulled out a copy of Motor Trend magazine.
"So, he's with Sister Mary, again," Curtis continued. "Why?"
The boy shrugged, and flipped through the magazine. He'd read through this magazine at least a dozen times before. He made no more than a quick glance at the 1961 Continental in baby blue. Then he quickly turned the pages until he found the black Thunderbird. His finger traced it's outline, as if he were drawing the photograph right there on the page.
Curtis knew that prying would get him nowhere. He leaned over the table to look at the magazine, too.
"You sure do like those cars. Don't you, son?"
"Yeah-up..." His voice was unsure and hesitant, but not because he didn't know what his
answer was. Elwood simply wondered if he'd ever get a chance to ride in one of those big cars himself.
"Now, I bet this year's magazine's got a Rambler! I'll see if I can get you a new issue."
His voice trailed off. He knew that bribes wouldn't get him any more information than a simple
question would. With a new approach, he continued.
"How bout a little bit of The Howlin' Wolf?" Curtis asked. Elwood shrugged again, feigning disinterest, as he flipped through a few more pages. Curtis understood, and pushed himself away from the crickety table and pulled a record out of a makeshift bookshelf. He read the label on a black disc and smiled, gently placing it on his record player, and carefully positioning the needle.
"This music, Elwood, is gonna last forever," Curtis predicted. "It'll stand the test of time. Listen here. You just mark my words."
The music started low. Competing with the furnace, Curtis turned the volume up. While standing, he grabbed a bottle off the shelf. The bottle said Royal Crown Cola, but the color was off, and the cap was clearly not secure. Still, the appearance was convincing enough, if anyone happened into his private party. Taking a sip, he sat back down at the table.
Curtis smiled as his young friend's head began to nod, in synch with the music.
"So, now, what's this?" Curtis asked a very serious Elwood, as he pointed at the record player. If Elwood wasn't going to be social, at least this would be a learning experience.
Still nodding to the music, Elwood looked up and fixed his gaze on the wall. He stared in deep concentration, as if it were the most important test of his young life. He had completely forgotten about the cars from the magazine, as his brows came together in thought.
"Come on. You know it, boy."
Without turning to the man, the right side of Elwood's lips curled into a faint smile. He had walked into the room, nervous and a bit scared being on his own. Now, with the music from the record player, he once again found some of his confidence.
"It's in E," Elwood said, without a doubt in his mind.
"Good," Curtis said, as he took another sip from the R.C. Cola bottle. "Very good, Elwood." But the test had just begun.
"Now play it."
For a moment, the boy looked a bit nervous. "But..." he began, in protest.
"Go on, now." Curtis motioned with his hands, as if trying to move him along. "Go on. You know it... Just follow along, as best you can."
The boy clumsily fumbled into his right hand pocket with his skinny fingers, and slowly pulled
out three old, second-hand harmonicas. Nervous, and bit hesitant, he made his choice, and put the metal to his lips. Without turning his head, his eyes shifted towards Curtis, who offered a small nod of approval.
Elwood waited for the rift to begin again.
Curtis was amazed that a young boy, not quite ten years old, could bring the music to life the way he did. The breath. The draw. Each in perfect time. And Elwood made each his own. Curits' smile widened, knowing that this boy - who would be in bed by nine - could live like the wolf, and moan at midnight, through the music.
As the song finished, Curtis clapped his hand on the table five times, then gently used the cola
bottle as its echo. His applause, and his enthusiasm, brought a big smile to Elwood's face.
"That was good, Elwood!" Curtis cackled. "Real good! You should play that with the
Ravens, in your next show."
Elwood smiled at the review. He looked up at Curtis, the black man's broad, wide smile overpowering the thin mustache he wore. Elwood shook out his harp, drying it off, and placed it back in his pocket.
Again, Curtis turned towards the wall and lowered the sound on the record player. He pulled another bottle off the shelf, popped off the cap, and handed it to the young musician. Elwood took it in his hand and cautiously sniffed it, with a little grimace of disappointment.
"Now, Elwood," Curtis said, returning to the table once again. His voice was serious. "What's wrong, son? What happened to Jake? I can't help you boys out if you don't tell me the truth."
Elwood took a long sip of the cola, carefully calculating his response.
Curtis sighed again, this time in frustration and concern.
"Did the teacher catch him cheating on a test?" Curtis guessed, working with the laws of probabilities. Elwood sat motionless and emotionless.
Raising his voice, just a bit, Curtis pressed on.
"Was he using that mirror, again?"
As hard as Elwood tried, the boy couldn't control himself. He broke a smile. Curtis drew himself in, like a secret confidant, and presented his ear to Elwood. The two looked at each other and laughed together.
"Nah," the boy finally answered, breaking down under the mock interrogation. "Jake don't write backwards no more."
Curtis placed his large hand on the boys slight shoulder, nodding and chuckling with his favorite young friend.
"No, he don't... Matter of fact, he don't write at all!" Curtis joked, then laughed, as the two took sips from their bottles.
Curtis tried not to look too long at the boy, knowing how nervous he could sometimes be, especially when outside of Jake's company. He worried about the younger of the two "brothers."
Depending on how you looked at it, you'd think Jake might just be good for Elwood. Jake started the band called The Ravens, which was no doubt a boost for Elwood's confidence. It was also the perfect way for both boys to channel both their energies and musical talent. It was the best damned pre-teen blues band in all of Chicago.
And through the Ravens, the boys started something. It was something meaningful... something amazing.
But even if Jake was good for Elwood, Jake was really bad for the rest of society. Curtis decided as soon as he set eyes on those boys that it was his duty to help steer them along the right path. What the penguin couldn't do with a ruler, he'd do with music.
"Well, then, son, how can I help you boys? The Raven's got a gig coming up in... what... two days? And as good as you are on that there harp, you gotta have your lead singer." He winked at Elwood, hoping he'd play along.
"Elwood, what can I do to get him off the hook with Sister Mary?"
With a deep sigh, Elwood closed his eyes tightly, as if not seeing Curtis would make him less likely to be caught spilling the proverbial beans.
"The Penguin caught him..." Slowly, Elwood opened his eyes cautiously, to gauge Curtis' reaction.
"The Penguin caught him... with a magazine."
Curtis nodded, knowingly, then asked if it was like the kind of magazine that Elwood was reading. Elwood looked at the table, and quickly shook his head.
"Well..." Curtis asked, scratching his head "what kind of a magazine was it?" As soon as the
words slipped past his lips, he realized he asked the wrong thing. He knew what Jake was up to, and why it would bring the Wrath of Sister Mary Stigmata down on him like the true fist of God. There was no need to make Elwood spell it out for him.
Elwood squirmed uncomfortably.
"It had ladies in it, didn't it?" Curtis asked quickly, wanting to end the conversation, almost before it started. Elwood nodded his head, and then turned back to the pages of Motor Trend.
Curtis reached over once again and patted Elwood on the shoulder. "It's ok, son. I understand."
Curtis reached around, and turned the volume of the record player up, just a few notches, as the
two sat silently, looking at 1961 model automobiles.
Without warning or prodding, Elwood spoke up.
"Why, Curtis?"
Confused, the janitor repeated the question back to Elwood. "Why what?"
"I don't get it." Elwood's words were innocent. "Why would Jake be looking at those ... ?"
Elwood slowly lifted his hands, and held them - palms up - in front of his chest, as if he were holding two cantaloupes.
Curtis tried to control himself, holding in his laughter. He had to turn his back to hide his efforts. He pretended to cough, as he composed himself. Clearing his throat, he turned to Elwood again.
"Elwood, weren't you ever... curious, son?" Curtis asked, gently. "Don't you want to know what
those ladies looked like, too?"
Elwood shrugged. "They're just some ladies...without clothes..."
"Give it a little time, Elwood, and you might wanna find yourself one of those ladies."
Elwood shook his head. "I'd rather have a Cadillac... or a microphone..."
Curtis laughed again. "If you do get a Caddy... or a microphone, you'll have nothing but ladies, followin' you all over town!"
Elwood looked a little confused.
"Listen up, Elwood. There's lots worse things in this world than a pretty lady."
"But I don't get it, Curtis. If the Good Lord made girls so... good lookin..." Elwood hesitated, unsure of the logic. "If... God?...made it so that guys want to look at them...then why is the Penguin so mad when we do look at them?"
Curtis scratched his head. How on earth did a little music lesson turn into Elwood's first discussion of women and men? Of the birds and the bees? Of the perils of love, and the tragedy of heartbreak?
Then again, wasn't that what music was always about, anyway?
"You see, Elwood. It's like with Adam and Eve. Adam was tempted by Eve... you see... and the Sister's just trying to... make sure that Jake... that you boys..." His voice trailed off, and he let out a small sigh. Suddenly, the young boy seemed wise beyond his years, and Curtis didn't quite have an answer.
"So, you're sayin that the ladies are just gonna lead us into, uh... temptation?"
"Not exactly, boy."
"I don't understand."
Curtis took a long sip of his medicinal cola. "Elwood, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. The more you understand women, the less you understand them."
Elwood looked confused, as his teacher of life continued.
"None of you boys - not you, not Jake - are ever gonna learn about women in one of those magazines. I mean really learn about women."
Elwood looked down at his own magazine. For a minute he just tried to let the words sink in. He silently worked through the logic in his mind. Finally, staring down at the black Thunderbird, he understood.
You don't learn about a car looking at a picture in the magazine. You gotta learn to drive. You gotta open the hood, and figure out what makes its motor run. Only then you'll figure out how fast it'll really go.
Elwood closed the magazine. Without saying a word, he got up from his seat, walked across the room, opened the furnace door, and tossed the February 1961 issue of Motor Trend magazine onto the burning coals.
When he returned to his seat, Curtis asked, gently, "Why'd you do that, Elwood?"
"I'm tired of reading about cars. Looking at pictures. I wanna... I wanna really drive one."
"You're too young, still." Curtis nodded, his hand on the small shoulder. "Give it time..."
Again, wiser than his years, Elwood pieced it together. "I guess the Penguin's scared that Jake's gonna wanna learn how to... uh... drive soon, too."
"There's two types of women in the world, Elwood..."
"The kind you see in the magazines..." Elwood tried to work it out in his head. "...and The Penguin?"
"Well, there's that..." Curtis chuckled. "And there's some ladies who say "yes" and there's those who say "no." You may want to spend your time with the ones who say "yes," but the Lord tells us you should choose the one's who say "No," son."
He looked at Elwood, and for some reason, the man wanted to rethink his answer.
"In the long run, you don't want the pretty one on the cover of the magazine. You want one you can depend on. They're the ones you wanna keep around. They're the ones who'll be there, when you need them."
"Like a good motor, Curtis?"
"Just like a good motor. You see, there's two kinds of women, Elwood. The ones who are easy. The ones you can talk into anything. And then there's the tough ones. The solid ones. The hard-headed ones. And with that kind of woman, there ain't no way to change her mind. She gets her mind set on something, and that's it. No sweet talkin, flowers, candy... nothin's gonna change it. They're the strong ones. And you know what? They'll be the ones to get you through, no matter what."
Elwood looked up.
"Like The Penguin?"
Curtis nodded.
"She loves you boys. You know that."
Elwood squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable.
"She does. It may not seem like it sometimes, but she does! To me, at least, it's clear as night and day. Black and white. So, you boys better listen up, and listen to what she says. You gotta play by her rules. Cause there ain't no way you're gonna change her mind. "
The right corner of Elwood's lip turned down in a frown.
"Elwood, she's gonna wanna keep you boys safe, and she's gonna make sure you stay on the right path. And you won't change that. You can't change that woman's mind. Don't matter what you say, don't matter what you do...
"She's the strongest woman you'll ever know."