The trailer was quiet. Max and Mitzi and that imp of a bear, Puccini were spending the night with their dad while their mom was at work. He honestly didn’t know how they bounced from one house to another so easily. Truth was he liked his THINGS around him, he liked his bed. THAT MAN would only be there in their house for three days before he had to go back to Louisiana. Then, Munch would have his room, his house back to himself. He knew THAT MAN was looking to find a job closer to home, and every night he prayed that did not happen. He had tall doubts about such a prayer working. It seemed it probably went against Jesus teaching but he prayed it anyway, because maybe just maybe God might see things from his perspective. It was a long, long shot but it was all he had.

He glanced around the rummage room, which had been THAT MAN’s room when he wasn’t working off shore. There were the maps of Vietnam on the wall, with the places Grandma Toady’s boys had been stationed. One of Lolly’s uncle’s hadn’t made it home, just like Munch’s dad hadn’t made it home. There was a sewing machine in there too. It was a good one. Their were quilts in various stages either on a hoop or stacked on the work table. Grandma Toady was a fine seamstress and he admired that.

It had been an early night for all of them. Grandma Toady had gone to bed early. Mitzi had had a day and she, as usual she had shared it with EVERYONE. If Mitzi was happy everyone was happy, if she was pissed, she injected everyone with her piss. Grandma Toady said Mitzi wasn’t a thermometer she was a thermostat. What ever temper she set stuck and blew through every body in her vicinity. Once he had wanted a little sister. Now, not so much, not at all. His mom was old now. She probably couldn’t have a baby, at least he hoped not.

Through the window blinds he could see the stars. He had always loved stars. He climbed out of his sleeping bag and went to the window. After his dad was killed in Vietnam, he used to wonder if he could see him from way up there. He still wondered, he still hoped it was true. He really hoped it was true. For a long time he just stood there staring between the stars. Out here in the country a person could see stars upon stars...there were so many of them. He heard Fluff meow at the door and he let the let the fat cat in. Fluff’s eyes caught the light of the hall night light and they glowed. It was kinda freaky. He didn’t understand what made cat eyes do that. Fluff went to the sleeping bag and burrowed down into it. The big cat shut his eyes and began to purr. Munch didn’t feel the least bit sleepy so, he picked up the radio that was on the beside table. The cord was long enough for him to take it to his sleeping bag. Careful not to smush Fluff, he climbed back into his sleeping bag, turned on the radio and slid the dial to KTRU 91.7. The announcer was speaking. His voice was smooth and he sounded so cool. “News just in my friends, Astrodome Kool Jazz Festival this July. Featuring, Dizzy Gillespie, Marvin Gaye, Nancy Wilson, BB King and many more fine artists.”

Munch’s heart leaped up almost to the place of happiness. There was going to be a jazz festival in the Astrodome in Houston! Houston was not even an hour away. He had to go, he just had to go! The radio announcer said, “Now for the cool stylings of Nancy Wilson singing, The Masquerade.”

The soft voice of Nancy Wilson spun like magic out of the radio. The lyrics went straight through Munch, My blue horizon is turning grey/And my dreams are drifting away... that was exactly how he felt. What would it be like to hear her, see her in person? He might never get to see Etta James, but Nancy Wilson was coming to HOUSTON! The song Nancy was singing was so, so sad, it reached the sad place inside of Munch and held him.

There was a soft knock on the door. Lolly whispered, “Munch its me.”

Who else would it be? He whispered back, “Come in.”

The radio on the floor emitted a tiny bit of light, enough for Lolly to see his sleeping bag. He waited for her to ask why he was sleeping on the floor when there was a perfectly good bed, but she didn’t. She knew. He couldn’t bring himself to sleep in the same bed THAT MAN slept in, the bed he wished THAT MAN would have remained in for the REST OF HIS LIFE. Lolly did ask, “Have you seen my cat?”

Munch pointed at the lump in his sleeping bag. “He’s right there.”

“Silly old cat.” Lolly came and sat down on the floor beside Munch. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

She asked, “How come?”

The girl knew him too well. He didn’t have to say why.

Lolly answered her own question. “I feel weird about it too. I don’t remember my parents being married. So, I don’t know what this is going to be like. Its gonna be weird.”

It was weird already but Munch didn’t say so. She looped her arm through his and pressed her head against his. This was the first time, her head had ever touched his. She was always very careful with her head. Her warm skin pressed against his. He had always been tempted to touch her bald head, but he never did. She wouldn’t like it. But tonight, probably from a mutual place of fear and confusion, she had come this close to him. The nearness of her was a comfort. If only THAT MAN was not her pa, but he was. They sat in silence, neither of them speaking. They didn’t need words.

Another Nancy Wilson song came on. Lolly pulled away from him and said, “Her voice is so smooth.”

Munch nodded. “Yeah, she’s coming to the Astrodome Kool Jazz festival in July. I gotta go see her.”

“Yes, we do.”

“You would go to a jazz festival with me?”

“Of course.”

“But you don’t like Jazz.”

“That’s not true. I like her, I like Etta. I’m just not as into music as you are.”

Nobody was, at least nobody that Munch knew of. His dad had played jazz or the blues all the time when he was still alive. He would dance with Munch’s mom. The way he could twirl her was one of Munch’s favorite memories of his parents.

“Munch, are you okay?”

Softly he said, “Not really. I miss my dad.”

Lolly put her arms around him and hugged him. She didn’t say she was sorry for his loss or anything, she just held him. He felt a tear or two slip down his face. A lot of dads didn’t come back from Vietnam. He could still remember the day his mom got the telegram, and the men in uniforms that delivered it. His mom started to weep even before she opened the telegram. She knew what it said, she knew why the men were there. That was the day everything changed. It was the day he found out he lost his dad and he lost a good bit of his mom too.

The next Nancy Wilson song on the radio was, “The Very Thought of You.” It had been the song his dad sang to his mom. It always made his mom cry when she heard it. If only he could get his mom to take them to the festival. If only That Man would be out of state when the festival happened. He shared neither of these thoughts out loud.

Fluff squirmed out of the sleeping bag and Lolly and Munch broke apart. The big fat cat curled up between them and closed his eyes. His motor began to rumble again.

The next song on the radio was BB King singing, “Nobody loves me but my mother/ and she could be jivin’ too.” BB King was wailing it, and it was exactly how Munch felt.

Lolly asked, “Is that jazz?”

Munch said, “No baby, that’s the Blues.”

“It’s really powerful.”

It was, and some how BB’s voice and the song made him feel better. “BB will be at the festival too.”

“I want to see him and who ever’s playing that guitar. Its crazy wicked.”

Lolly didn’t usually say things like “crazy wicked.” Munch told her, “BB is playing that guitar.”

“Wow! I’ve never heard anybody play guitar like that before. You got any of his records.”

In the dark Munch smiled. “I sure do.”

“Let’s listen to them tomorrow after school.”

“Done.”

Fluff stretched, rolled over and sauntered to the door. He let out a meow.

Lolly said, “I guess we best get back to bed.” She squeezed his hand and stood.

Munch really didn’t want he to go, but he also didn’t want her to stay. He just felt so mixed up. After the door closed, Munch lay back down. Another BB King song began to play. BB’s blues washed over him and finally lulled him to sleep.