The Mystery of the Congressman and the Jazz Club. Part 1: No Doubt About It

The ringing of the phone, yes an old school setting of a telephone ring on his phone, awakened Ethan from a sound sleep at 3:04 a.m. At 25 you would think he might have still been out with friends at that time, especially on a Friday night. But he had fallen asleep on the couch about midnight after a very long and stressful week. Each day this week the pressure had built more and more and he knew he was the only one who could do what had to be done. At least he felt that way.

The phone just kept ringing as he moved towards the coffee table where it lay while thinking of what the call could mean. Since finding out on Monday that his Congressman had died he had felt an ache in the bottom of his stomach. Just last weekend he had seen the man getting into a stretch limo outside of a jazz club that he himself was going into. He thought it was odd to see him because he had always heard that the Congressman fancied opera. Still, Ethan thought it was kind of cool that the Congressman would appreciate jazz as well. Good for you man he thought to himself as he turned from seeing the limo drive away to going into the club to the sounds of sax and trumpet and more soothing his aching heart. Jazz will do that, except when it penetrates a hurt in a different way that doesn’t soothe at all but brings out the pain.

He hadn’t thought about that anymore until hearing of the Congressman’s death. The report said that he had been sick in bed for a week and had finally succumbed to the illness. Most people just heard the news, said that was too bad, and turned to the next news item or favorite video to watch again. Ethan couldn’t get it out of his head. He knew the Congressman hadn’t been in bed for a week. He knew he had seen him last Friday night, just a week ago now, and he was climbing into a limo.

Ethan also knew that it was none of his business. Who cares whether the man was bedridden for a week or had gotten out for one night for some jazz? If he was dying who could blame him. But something just didn’t feel right about it. Why would anyone hide the fact that during his illness he decided to go out on a night that he felt a little better and enjoy some good music? Wouldn’t that make him more human, more of a regular guy? Surely no one would berate a dying man for wanting to be out among the living just one more time.

Ethan had shaken it off on Monday when he heard about it and gotten back to work. Then after work late that afternoon he drove by the jazz club on his way home and saw that it had a sign on it that it was closed. Closed for good. That definitely seemed strange since it had been around for a lot of years and when he was there it looked full and very prosperous.

He pulled in front of it and saw a guy coming out and locking the door. He rolled down his window and said that it was too bad the place was closing, that he really liked coming there. The guy just looked around like he was afraid that someone was watching and said he agreed that it was too bad. Ethan said that he had been there on Friday night and thought he had seen the Congressman getting into a limo outside. The guy stared at him and said he didn’t know anything about that and Ethan must have been mistaken. Then he hurried away as Ethan stared after him.

That night Ethan did some research on the Congressman online. It seems that, as he had always heard, the Congressman was one of the good guys. He tried to do what would help the people he represented while still caring about the country overall. He would be missed for sure. Ethan closed the cover of his laptop and went to bed, still wondering about having seen the guy getting in that limo.

The next day he saw a news report about how there would not be a viewing for the Congressman and not even a funeral or a burial. He was being cremated and his family would privately scatter his ashes somewhere. There was to be nothing public at all. He thought that was pretty strange for such a public figure but the report said that his family was asking everyone to respect their wishes for privacy in this loss. He could respect a family’s wishes for privacy but this seemed very odd to him that there wouldn’t be at least some kind of time and place for people to express their feelings about the Congressman. 

It was Wednesday as he was eating lunch at a Food Truck several blocks from his work that he glanced over his chilidog and saw the man from the jazz club talking to a man in a suit and nodding over at where he was. That guy wasn’t nodding at Ethan he was nodding towards him so that the man in the suit would see him. Ethan glanced away and took a bite of his lunch and then started walking back to work, still eating and carrying his drink. 

When he finished lunch he stopped to throw the trash in a garbage can along the street and noticed that the jazz club man and the suit guy were walking at a little distance behind him in the same direction as he was going. They looked away when they saw that Ethan had seen them. This whole thing was getting stranger.

Ethan walked into his office building and tried to shake it off as a coincidence as he worked that afternoon. That night he stopped at his church to just sit and pray awhile in a quiet atmosphere. It felt good to just be there and sort through his thoughts, hoping that God would give him peace to just let this all go. 

But that didn’t happen. Instead, he sensed that he should not just let it go but instead try to figure this out, or at least let someone know what he had seen. He could pass on his information to the police and then just let it all go and get back to his life.

On his way home he stopped at the Police Station and asked to speak with an officer. The officer heard what he told him about having seen the Congressman the previous Friday night outside the jazz club. He listened to Ethan and said he would pass it on to his Captain but that there was no ongoing investigation about the Congressman’s death so there was really no one to talk to about this. He thanked him for being a concerned citizen and assured him that what he had told him would be passed along.

Ethan left the Police Station feeling like he had done what he was supposed to do and that now it was time to just let it all go. Evidently, someone else agreed with him because when he got back to his apartment there was a note that had been slipped under his door. It said that if he was smart he would just let it all go. The note didn’t say what “it” was but there was no doubt in his mind what they were talking about. 

Ethan took a picture of the note, put it back into the envelope that it had been in, and went back to the police station to find the officer that he had just talked with and handed him the note. The officer read it and then disappeared for a few minutes before coming back to Ethan and asking him to come with him to the Captain’s office. Ethan followed him and then told the Captain everything that he had told the officer earlier and gave him the note that he had just found at his apartment.

The Captain looked very serious and told him not to talk to anyone else and that he would follow up on all of this. He told Ethan what a good thing he had done by reporting this. Very few would have he said. Very few get involved. He was grateful and even though he thought that it was probably nothing serious he would look again at the report that the officer had filed earlier and make sure it was updated and looked at again.

The next day when Ethan got to work his boss called him into his office. He told Ethan that a police officer had called him and asked about the kind of person that Ethan was, about his character and his trustworthiness. He didn’t tell his boss what this was about but his boss knew it must be serious. He asked Ethan what this was all about and Ethan told him that it was best if he didn’t tell him, that he had been asked by the police not to tell anyone.

Just then the phone of his boss rang and he answered it. He glanced at Ethan and nodded that he should leave his office and close his door on the way out. After Ethan was out he could hear his boss talking quietly to someone and heard his own name in the conversation. 

Though he hadn’t been at work long, Ethan decided to leave and get a cup of coffee to try and calm down. He knew something was up and now his boss knew something about it, whatever it was. He walked to a food truck that was selling coffee and danish a block away and got what he wanted and started walking. By the time his head cleared he realized that he had been out walking for an hour or so and decided he better get back to work. 

Upon arriving at the building and walking inside he was greeted by a security guard that he had never seen before. Normally Ethan would greet the regular guard and then talk a moment about a game the night before or about the weather. Today, however, Ethan was asked for his company ID. Quizzically, Ethan pulled it out and handed it to the new security guard who told him that it would not be returned and that Ethan had been terminated by the company and should leave immediately.

Stunned but being walked back out the door by the guard Ethan realized that something was very wrong. Just an hour or so ago he was talking with his boss and now he was fired, without his boss even having the decency to tell him about it himself. 

The guard stepped back inside the building and Ethan stood there for several minutes just looking at him and the building and not believing what was going on. Then he turned and went to the police station to talk to the officer that he had talked with just the day before. But the officer wasn’t there. Ethan was told that the officer had not reported for work this morning. The person at the desk laughed and said maybe he had decided to take a vacation that he had been talking about for a long time.

Ethan asked if he could talk with the Captain and after waiting for an hour was finally shown in to see him. When he walked into the Captain’s office a man greeted him and asked how he could help him. It wasn’t the man that he had talked with just the day before. Ethan asked about him and was told that the other man had been reassigned to another precinct.

Ethan thought that it was interesting that the policeman had not shown up today and the Captain was reassigned but he tried not to let on and just asked this Captain if he knew about his report from the day before. Ethan told him his name and the Captain said he didn’t know anything about it but he had just gotten there this morning from the other precinct and Ethan should tell him the details. Ethan told him what he had told the policeman and now the Captain asked Ethan to wait outside of his office while he checked on it.

While Ethan waited he saw several people go in and out of the Captain’s office. Then he was called back in and told that there was no record of him or any report on him. Ethan asked if he could have the note back that he had brought in the night before but the Captain said there was no record of any note either so he couldn’t help him out with that.

Just as Ethan was pulling out his phone to show the Captain a picture of the note that he had received he thought better of it and just said that he had gotten a text from his Dad and needed to check on him. The Captain told him not to worry about his report and that the Congressman had been at home for a week before he died and that Ethan must have been mistaken that he had seen him out. Ethan just smiled and said that he certainly could have been wrong and thanks for talking to him. 

As Ethan left the police station he felt like he was being watched. But every time he looked around there was no one. So he went home and got on the internet and looked for more information on the Congressman and his death. Not much was there about his death other than the fact that the Governor had already appointed someone to fill his congressional seat until the end of the term. The Governor had decided that since it was only eleven months until the end of the Congressman’s term that they wouldn’t have time for a special election before then. Ethan didn’t recognize the name of the person who the Governor had appointed. He had never heard of him. But he knew that the Governor was of a different party than the Congressman had been and so had most likely appointed someone of his own party. That’s how those things worked. 

The minority party had only been three persons away from reclaiming the majority in the House of Representatives. Now the margin was only two. Ethan thought to himself that it was too bad that his Congressman had died. He was a really good guy. 

It wasn’t until the next day, after spending the day searching for a new job, that he had time to look up more about the new Congressman. He recognized him when he saw him in a news interview that night. He was the man in the suit that he had seen with the jazz club man.

The phone ringing roused him from his thoughts of this week and he grabbed it. A voice on the other end told him that he might like to know that another Congressman had just gotten sick this week and died tonight. Then the phone line went dead. 

He brought up the picture of the note he had received just a couple of days ago. The one that said that if he was smart he would just let it all go. Right then he decided that he wasn’t smart. No doubt about...it.

The Good Old Days

Do I have a story for you! Do I have a story for you? Well, yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’. Interested? Grab some coffee and keep reading.

So I was sitting on my front porch playing guitar and singing some old songs, you know, from the 70s, when my phone rang inside the house.

I set my guitar down and went into the house to take the call. I only talked a few minutes but when I came back out my neighbor was playing.

At first, I couldn’t believe she had just picked it up and started playing. I hardly ever let anyone else play it. It’s my pride and joy.

But before I could complain I realized that my guitar had never sounded better. And when she started singing my mouth dropped open.

She was singing and playing the song that I had been playing before my phone call. Only now I could tell it was hers. This was her song.

I sat down by her as she played and sang and she motioned for me to join in so I did. When I did she slipped into harmony. On her song.

Then she would come back in on the melody, her melody, and I slid into harmony. She played that guitar as it had never been played.

And her voice? You know how when you see the PBS programs with past singers and wish they had just kept in the past? This wasn’t that.

This was better than her recording. Her tone was amazing. She spoiled me for listening to her on the Oldies station. Every note. Perfection.

How had I not known it was her? I had lived next door to her for about ten years now. We rarely spoke but she always smiled as I walked by.

Once I had heard her humming a tune that seemed familiar but I just waved at her as I rushed past her to the job that I walked to each day.

Now here we were singing together on my front porch. I didn’t need anybody to see or hear us. I knew who I was singing with, living beside.

A life of anticipation made me always late. Now I was right on time. I just wanted to stay right here.  ‘Cause these are the good old days.

The Marathoner

I don’t run anymore. I mean, I could, really, I think I could, but it’s just that, well, I don’t need to.  There are a lot of things bad about running. It gets a person bad knees before their time. It gets you all sweaty and smelly and especially if you are wearing a nice shirt and a suit, not that I have worn a suit in a very long time, well a person just shouldn’t run in a suit.  So I could run and I used to run. There was a time when I ran up and down the roads where I lived and I ran marathons and even was up for being chosen to carry the Olympic torch as it came through the area where I lived. But that didn’t happen. They chose someone else someone who wasn’t even much of a runner. It was all political. Okay, well, yes he actually was a very good runner and often beat me in any race we were both in. But that one time in 1983 I passed him coming down a hill and was ahead of him for almost a mile. Okay, take a breath, well it wasn’t that long while he got a tiny cup of water from a bystander along the road. But still, I passed him and I felt good about it and even though he went on to finish ahead of me, the marathon, ok, ok, it was a half-marathon, but still, it was a long way to run. You try running that far and tell me it’s not a real marathon and then we will have this conversation. I ran for a long time. I enjoyed it a lot to be out there just running. I never really liked the actual marathons, yeah, yeah, yeah, half-marathons, but preparing for them, training for them was enjoyable. There was no one to beat it was just me keeping going and dreaming of being in the race someday. I didn’t really ever want to win or expect to win and winning isn’t the point anyway, is it? No, of course not the thing is to finish the race or at least to get as far towards the finish line as possible. I trained for a lot of years. Well, it was a lot if you think 21 and a half years is a lot and I do think that’s a lot. When the weather would turn nicer in the spring I would start putting on my sneakers after work and go for a run. A jog through the park or just a fast hike on a trail. But yes a fast hike on a trail is training because I was going up and down some pretty big hills, well big for around where I lived. I mean the ground did go up and down some, it wasn’t all level so that’s a hill to me. So I would walk and then jog and then go faster and even sprint a bit. Well, I would sprint for maybe one hundred yards but that’s like the length of a football field so that’s a pretty good sprint I think as I imagined those hulking bruisers chasing me and wanting to knock me down.  And then as I finished the sprint I would raise my hands over my head and pump the football and spike it on the ground. Yes, it’s true it was just an imaginary football but the action is the same and I would bend over a moment and catch my breath and take in the cheers that I heard in my head and start slowly walking and then jogging again. I trained every spring and summer and into the fall until the snows started in winter and I would stop running because after all it wasn’t safe to run in the snow and there was a lot of ice, well sometimes there was water that was slushy and could have frozen, so I put away my running shoes and enjoyed quiet nights resting by the fireplace that was on my computer screen. Then the next spring I would start over again and this was my running life for a couple of decades. Wow, decades. That makes me quite the long sprinter. Well, not a long sprinter but a long runner and that made me think of myself as a marathoner and I thought I could compete in a big race. So for a couple of years, I would run longer when I trained and got to six miles or so and that made me think that if I worked harder I could at least do a half-marathon.  I started to do charity runs. You know, the 5K ones where I would donate some money for the cause and feel good about myself for contributing, and then I would run and finish the race. As I did more of those I kept stepping up my game and the distances and one day I decided that I was ready for a real marathon, well half of one at least. So I signed up for one that was in the fall. I figured that way I would have all of that year from spring on to get to my best and after it was over I could put my shoes away until the next year. It was a good plan and I walked more, jogged more, and sprinted more even though I knew that in a marathon sprinting wouldn’t be needed because I was just going to keep a nice slow pace and try to finish. Try to finish? I mean I was just going to finish. I would. Finish. That’s all I wanted to do. There would be no winning in terms of beating someone else. It wasn’t about that. I just would finish and know that I had done it, and of course, get some recognition piece of paper at least that I could hang on my wall somewhere. I trained hard. I did. I got to the point that even if it rained I would put on my shoes and walk to the door and open it, before closing it and saying there is no use to get sick running in the rain. Fortunately, there were a lot of dry days and weekends so I got to run a lot. When I got into the mass of people who were running that day I saw him. The guy who always beat me in those charity races, not that they were actually races. But yes, he always finished before me. Today I was going to beat him. That was my goal. It’s not like he was all that much more in shape than I was. I was in shape. Very good shape. I had a good shape. Fit. Toned. Well, at least I could run and not stumble. The marathon started, okay the half-marathon, and the adrenaline started pumping. There was excitement all around and I joked with the people around me that I hoped they didn’t mind being beaten by a guy as old as me. Then they pulled away and waved back at me. It was all good-natured of course. I think. Yes, I believe that it was. I noticed that one guy over at the side of the road getting a drink of water from someone. He seemed to be standing still or jogging almost in place just a little too long. I thought to myself that if I went faster then I could pass him. Oh, that’s all I needed. We were about halfway through the race and I went faster, not a sprint mind you, but definitely faster than my usual pace, and I passed him. I left him in the dirt so to speak. I was going so fast it was like he was standing still. Of course, he was standing still but I didn’t care. I was winning. Hundreds of people were ahead of me and almost as many behind me, ok not hundreds but a bunch, and I was beating this champion. Me. I was winning. I didn’t look back but at some point down the road he ran by me and smiled and wished me good luck and he just kept running, and running, and running. I saw him for a while and then I didn’t. But then I remembered why I was doing this. I was doing this to finish. Not to beat him or anyone else. Well, I hoped I wouldn’t be the very last person but in any case, this was my first half-marathon and just to finish would be a victory for me.  I got so tired. It got harder and harder to keep going. I felt like every ounce of strength was leaving me and that I just needed to go over to the side of the road and sit down. Sweat was running down my face. I found it harder to breathe. My muscles felt like they had never felt in my life.  I kept going though and I was less than a mile from the finish I thought. But I didn’t know how I could make it. I couldn’t do it. Two decades of training and I couldn’t finish. Then clarity struck me. I hadn’t been training for two decades. I had been running, sometimes, for that long but it was really only this year that I had been actually training. Good grief I told myself it all counts. You must be out of your mind to be quibbling over how long you have been preparing for this and it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you aren’t going to make it. It was hard to see with the sweat running down my face and I felt like I was beginning to stumble. I wiped the sweat from my eyes as I was slowing down and ready to move to the side and sit down.

“Hey, buddy. You can do this.” I looked up and saw the guy I wanted to beat beside me running. He must have slowed down and dropped back to run beside me. He looked in a lot better shape at that point than I was.  “You can do this. I’ve seen you keep going in the 5K races and the longer ones and I know you can finish today. I know you can. I believe in you. Just keep going. You are almost there.” Then he was gone. He sprinted to the finish line. I think he knew that I needed to finish this alone. The sweat was still streaming down my face and I still hurt. A lot. But I kept going. It seemed like a long time but I made it to the finish line. The crowd cheered. It was a great crowd there to greet all of us when we made it.  I bent over. Exhausted. Moved to the side. Turned around. And then cheered for each runner that came in after me. A legitimate cheer. I knew what they went through. What we had gone through. I didn’t have to be there much longer because there weren’t a lot of people that finished after me. But that didn’t matter. I had made it. They had made it. I celebrated at the after marathon party. It was a full party so no way can anyone say that it was just a half of a marathon party. It was complete. As was I. When I got home later I put my running shoes in the hall closet. They are still there. I don’t run anymore. I mean, I could, really, I think I could, but it’s just that, well, I don’t need to.

Light

As I lay in bed the light slowly creeps into the room. It isn’t quite sunrise yet but it isn’t completely dark either. I stretch the littlest bit and then roll over to my other side to sleep some more, not yet fully roused for the day and wanting to stay in my half-asleep, half-awake mode.

The light of the sun shouldn’t be able to come through our darkened drapes, our made to keep the light out drapes, but there is often a crack between the sections of the drapes that somehow allows a little light. By the time I awake more fully there is more light than before which is actually a good thing because I don’t like to have to get up while it is dark. 

I slide my legs over the side of the bed and my feet touch the floor as more light floods the room. By now my eyes are adjusted. It’s so much better than the harsh light of the bathroom when I need to go in there during the night and turn on the lights. Just the right amount of light comes into the bathroom through the blinds there at this time of morning so that there is no need for more.

In a few minutes, I run my fingers through my hair to sort it out and get it presentable for the day, and then sometimes, if I haven’t already prayed before getting out of bed, I lay back down and talk to God.

I love you, God, I say. Repeating it and meaning it, I do love God. Then by habit, and by necessity, I say please forgive me, God. I think of what I have done that needs forgiving and remember that I really need both of these. I need God to love me and to forgive me and tell me so.

I hear God say, I love you, I forgive you. Then I can move on and pray for those in my family and for others I might pray for that morning but first I needed to be told by God that I am loved and forgiven.

That is the light that I needed most to come into my darkened room, to my darkened life. Love and forgiveness. Light.

Golly Gee

The faint vibration of the Fitbit on my wrist slowly awakened me from a restless night of sleep. I hit my arm against the couch over and over as I was mad at myself for not deleting that silent messenger of death, or Silent Alarm as it was officially called. Then I remembered that not only was it buzzing me to get up it would also tell me how poor my sleep was last night.

Time Asleep

3 hr 14 min

Sleep Schedule

2:17 am bedtime

6:30 am wake up

Sleep Quality

6 times awake

17 times restless

59 min awake/restless

Well golly gee, isn’t that just the most important information that I needed to know today. I was reminded of sleep that I didn’t get and vibrated awake to go to the old job that I no longer had. I was disgusted in so many ways, not the least of which that I didn’t know how to swear even when life was falling apart. Golly gee? Who says that? Who even thinks that? But golly gee I do apparently.

I got up from the couch and went to the bathroom, cause golly gee in real life that happens every morning, and walked into my bedroom where my bed was perfectly made, even though I wasn’t, and walked into my beautiful walk-in closet to pull out the suit of the day and the shirt and tie that went with it. I changed into the matching underwear and socks and got dressed and walked out my condo door and to the coffee shop down the street. 

I looked in a display window as I walked and noticed that my hair looked bad and I had forgotten to shave. I just kept walking for my coffee because golly gee a bad hair day was the least of my worries and forgetting to shave would fit right in with the rest of my morning. Then I looked down and saw that though I had on a great pair of socks that I didn’t have any shoes on.

I stopped abruptly right there and stared down at my feet. I was wearing a suit and tie but no shoes. The perfect combination for the day after being told that I would no longer work the job that I had trained for my whole life.

It wasn’t even a firing. Getting fired would have been more dramatic and I could have gotten mad with everyone else that I worked with. Instead, the whole company had been shut down without notice by a hostile takeover. They hadn’t seemed hostile when they wanted me to show them the financials or what our new product line would be. I was a Vice President in the company, just a guy looking to move up who thought that he would just play along week after week, month after month, and give them what they wanted and then I would at least have my same old job no matter what happened. Wrong!

Golly gee was I wrong. I slapped my head as I thought that again and a woman walking by on the sidewalk moved away as fast as she could and who could blame her. Who wouldn’t after seeing a guy slap himself who was wearing a suit and tie but no shoes? Was it really the lack of shoes with a suit that bothered her? Or maybe she could read minds and knew that I kept saying golly gee over and over in my mind. Was I saying it out loud and didn’t realize it? Well, golly gee I just didn’t know.

I walked in and stood in line for my coffee, paid for it, got it, and then walked on down the street to where I used to work as Vice President. I really liked that job. I was made for that job. I got to be creative and also deal with the financial side of making it all pay for itself. It was a dream job for a guy like me who liked numbers and dreaming up new products and bringing them to reality.

As I walked I passed by a few of my co-workers, well former co-workers now, who were standing around talking to each other. I smiled and nodded but they just turned away and kept talking with each other. Well, golly gee, yesterday we were friends and now because we’re not working at the same place anymore you won’t give me the time of day. I was sure going to miss them and my old job.

As I arrived at the building where I had been Vice President just the day before the door opened and I walked in to look around. It looked different somehow. A man walked up to me and seeing that I didn’t have any shoes on just bent down and took his own shoes off. Then he smiled and said it looked like there was going to be a change in the dress code. I nodded and said it looked that way. 

I was going to miss my old job. I had to admit that, to come to grips with it. Time would now be taken up with financial matters and the big picture. The job of a corporate President. My creative side would have to be left at the door, along with my shoes. The door with the new company name on it. Golly G.