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For a nightclub owner； Lee Vernon was a much younger man than I expected to meet。 He was under thirty； with a mass of black curls； a smiling well…tanned face； and gleaming china…blue eyes。 There were three open ledgers on his gray metal desk and a few thick Manila folders。 He tapped his large white teeth with a pencil and raised his black eyebrows。 I removed my guitar from the case before I handed him the slip of paper。
Lee Vernon laughed aloud when he saw the word JOB and shook his head from side to side with genuine amusement。 〃A nonsinging guitar player！〃 he exclaimed； still smiling。 〃I never thought I'd see the day。 Go ahead〃…he looked at my name burned into the guitar box…〃Frank； is it？〃
I nodded； and wiped my damp fingers on my jacket so the plastic pick wouldn't slip in my fingers。 I put my left foot on a chair； and cradled the instrument over my knee。
〃Play anything； Frank；〃 Vernon smiled。 〃I don't care。 I've never turned down an excuse to quit working in my life。〃
I vamped a few chords and then played 〃Empty Pockets〃 all the way through。 Mr。 Vernon listened attentively； tapping his pencil on the desk in time with the music。 This was the shortest of my three songs； but it sounded good in the tiny office。 The ceiling was low and there was a second listen effect reverberating in the room； especially during the thumping part。
〃I like the sound； Frank；〃 Vernon said。 〃You're all right。 All right。 But I don't think I can use you right now。 I'm trying to build the Chez Vernon into a popular night spot； and the James Boys pretty well fill the bill。 I pay them eight hundred a week and if I pay much more than that for music； I'll be working for them instea&of for myself。 Do you belong to the union； Frank？〃
I shook my head。 The idea of any free American male paying gangsters money for the right to work has always struck me as one of the most preposterous customs we have。
〃Tell you what；〃 Vernon said reflectively。 〃Do you really need a job？〃
I nodded seriously。
〃Okay； then。 The James Boys play a forty…minute set； and then they take a twenty…minute break。 They play from nine till midnight； an extra hour if the crowd warrants it； and till two a。m。 on Saturday nights。 In my opinion； a twentyminute break is too long； and I lose customers sometimes just because of it； but those were the terms I hired them under。 If you want to sit in by yourself on the stand to fill the breaks I'm willing to try it for a few nights to see how it goes。 I can give you ten bucks a night； but that's the limit。〃
For a few moments I thought about it； but ten dollars was too much money to give me when I only knew three songs。 I held up five fingers。
〃You want fifty dollars？〃 Vernon asked incredulously。
I shook my head and snapped out five fingers。
〃You're a pretty weird cat。〃 Vernon laughed。 〃Not only do you not sing； you're honest。 Five bucks a night it is； Frank。 But I'll tell Dick James to clean out his kitty between his sets； and any tips you get on the breaks belong to you。 You'll pick up a few extra bucks； anyway。〃
I nodded； shook hands with my employer and returned my guitar to its case。
〃e in about eight thirty； Frank；〃 Vernon concluded the interview； 〃and I'll introduce you to the James Boys。〃
I returned to the hotel and stretched out on my bed for a nap。 Although I had taken a lower figure than the ten he offered； I still felt a little uneasy。 After Lee Vernon heard me playing the same songs all evening he wouldn't be too happy about it。 But during the days； maybe I could make up a few more。 If so； I could ask for a raise to ten。 The immediate problem was remedied。 I could pay my room rent of three dollars a day； and eat on the other two until I could work my way out of the hole with an ingenious plan of some kind。
A few minutes later I was asleep。
7
The James Boys were very good。 If Lee Vernon was paying them eight hundred dollars a week； they were worth every cent of it。
I sat at the end of the bar where I could take in the entire room； enjoying the music and the singing； and the antics of the patrons at various tables。 Not many of the couples danced。 It wasn't the smallness of the floor that prevented them from getting to their feet； it was just that the James Boys were more amusing to watch than they were to dance to。 They wore red Western shirts with white piping on the collars and cuffs； but they didn't restrict their playing to Western music。 They seemed to be equally at home with calypso and rock 'n' roll。 Each of the boys； in turn； sang into the microphone； and they all had good voices。
Dick James was at the microphone； and his face had a mournful expression。 He said； 〃It is now my sad duty to inform you； ladies and gentlemen； that for the next twenty minutes we will be absent from the stand。〃
He held up a hand to silence the murmurs of disappointment。 〃We don't want to go。 Honest！ It's just that we can't afford to drink here。 We have to go down the street to a little place where the drinks are cheaper。 And I might add；〃 he said disingenuously； 〃unwatered！〃
A very small ripple of laughter went through the room。 Perhaps the patrons of the Chez Vernon thought their drinks were watered。
〃But during our brief absence； the management has obtained for your listening pleasure； at great expense； one of the world's greatest guitarists！ Ladies and gentlemen； I give you Frank Mansfield！〃
I had been so engrossed in watching and listening； and drinking a steady procession of beers； I hadn't realized how quickly the time had passed。 To a burst of enthusiastic applause； led by the four James Boys； I threaded my way through the close…packed tables to the stand。 As I sat down in a chair on the stand and removed my guitar from its case； Dick James lowered the microphone level with my waist。
〃Good luck； Frank；〃 he said； and followed the other members of the group into the hallway leading to the dressing room。 I was in shirt sleeves； but wore my hat。 I wished that I could have gone with them； picked up my coat in the dressing room； and made a getaway through the back door to the alley。 In anticipation of fresh entertainment； the audience was fairly quiet。 I felt like every eye was on me as I sat under the baby spot on the small； triangular stand。
I delayed as long as I could； well aware that I had twenty full minutes to fill before the James Boys returned； and not enough music to fill it with。 I vamped a few chords； tuned the 〃A〃 string a trifle higher； and then played 〃Empty Pockets。〃 The moment I hit the last chord； I got to my feet and bowed from the waist to the thin； sporadic applause。 Before playing 〃Grandma's Quilt；〃 I went through the motions of tuning again； and slowed the tempo of the song as I picked through it。 The applause was stronger when I finished。 By this time the crowd realized that my music was unusual； or； at least； different。 My last number was the best； my favorite； and my nervousness had disappeared pletely。 There was hardly a sound from the audience as I played 〃Georgia Girl；〃 but when I finished and stood up to take a bow； the applause was definitely generous。
〃I could take lessons from you；〃 Dick James said； as he climbed onto the stand。 〃You make some mighty fine sounds； Frankerino。〃
I nodded； smiled and wet my lips。 The James Boys were also unaware that my repertoire only consisted of three homemade numbers。 Lee Vernon； a tall drink in his hand； crossed the room and congratulated me。 He whispered something to Dick； and readjusted the microphone。 I had returned my guitar to the case and was halfway to the bar when Vernon's vdice rasped out of the speakers in the ceiling。
〃Ladies and gentlemen； there's something you don't know about Frank Mansfield！〃 His voice stopped me； and I looked down at the floor。 〃In view of his great manual dexterity； it may be difficult to believe； but Frank Mansfield is the only deaf…and…dumb guitar player in the world！ Let's give Frank another big hand？ Let him feel the vibrations through the floor！〃
As the drunken crowd applauded wildly and stomped their feet on the floor； I ran across the room； pushed aside the curtain to the hallway； and rushed blindly into the dressing room。 I supposed Lee Vernon meant well； but I was angered by his announcement。 Not only did I want to quit； I wanted to punch him in the nose。 In view of his stupid announcement； he would be damned well embarrassed when I played the same three songs forty minutes later。
There was an open bottle of bourbon on the dressing table。 I hit it a couple of times and smoked five cigarettes before my next appearance on the stand。 Tmy James； the bass player； came and got me。
〃You're on； Mansfield。〃 He jerked his thumb。 〃Dick's announced you already。〃
I returned to the stand and got out my guitar。 The room had twice as many patrons and the air was blue with smoke。 Vernon's announcement had created a morbid interest。 The bar crowd had pushed their way in and standees blocked the way to the service bar。 The moment I picked up my instrument and strummed a few triplets； there were shushing sounds from the tables and the room was silent。
Indifferently； expertly； I played through my three numbers without pause。 The applause was generous。 I put the guitar back in the case and made my exit to the dressing room。 When the door closed on the last James Boy I took a pull out of the open bottle of whiskey。 Lee Vernon entered the room。 His face was flushed and he was laughing。 He held out a hand for the bottle and； when I handed it to him； freshened the drink in his left hand。
Watching him sullenly； I took another drink out of the bottle。 Vernon let loose with a wild peal of happy laughter。
〃Those are the only three songs you know； aren't they？〃 he said。
I grinned and took another short drink。
〃That's wonderful； Frank；〃 he said sincerely。 〃Really wonderful！〃 He smiled broadly； showing his big white teeth。 〃Did you make them up yourself？〃
I nodded。
A frown creased Vernon's flushed face； and he placed his glass down carefully on the narrow ledge in front of the mirror。 He's going to fire me； I thought。 The moment I put the five…dollar bill in my pocket I'm going to knock his teeth out。
〃I think that's terrific； Frank。 I really do。 Any fool can take a few lessons and play ordinary songs on a guitar。 Hell； I can play a little bit myself； and if I sing while I'm playing； I can drown out the mistakes I make。 But youHe shook his head ically。 〃To deliberately master the damned guitar the way you have and pose your own songs…well； I can only admire you for it。〃 He picked up his glass and raised it。 〃To Frank Mansfield！ You've got a job at the Chez Vernon for as long as you want to keep it！〃
He drained his glass and opened the door。 His shoulder hit the side of the door as he left； and he staggered slightly as he walked down the hall。
I closed the door and sat down； facing the back of the chair。 If a man accepts life logically； the unexpected is actually the expected。 I should have known he wouldn't fire me。 A nightclub owner； by the fact that he is a nightclub owner； must necessarily accept things as they are。 Vernon had accepted the situation cheerfully； like a peacetime soldier who finds himself suddenly in a war。 There was nothing else he could do。
I had wanted to quit； but now I was unable to quit。 I was in an untenable position。 I had only one alternative。 Every time I played my twenty…minute stint； I would have to improvise something new。 If I couldn't do it； I would have to walk away and not even stop to collect the five dollars I had ing to me。 It was unfair to keep playing the same three songs over and over。
I took another drink； a short one this time。 I was beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey on top of the beers I had had earlier。 I made my decision。 When my turn came to play again I would improvise music and play something truly wonderful。 After Dick James announced me； I sat quietly in my chair； the guitar across my lap； a multicolored pick gripped loosely between my right thumb and forefinger。 The room was filled to capacity。 Under the weak； colored ceiling lights I could make out most of the faces nearest the stand。 The