Storymania - The Last Song Of Cold Steel Heart by Lawrence Peters

The Last Song Of Cold Steel Heart
Lawrence Peters

She saw the first drops of rain hit the sidewalk and thought "Ok that's two strikes... meeting canceled at the last moment, again, wearing her good luck last dollar she had suede shoes... where's the next one coming from?", then saw that she stood in front of a bar.
It was one of those hole in the wall places, that you never notice unless you either needed a drink or needed to get in out of the rain in. She looked into the sky, and ducked through the door.
It wasn't as bad as she expected, and as she sat down the bartender gave her a warm for-real smile. Again, unexpected. It bore none of the leering knowingness that she expected either.
"I guess this isn't the third strike, Jimmy, could you fix me up with a rum and coke?"
"Of course, ma'am, coming right up." The barkeep said.
As he placed it before her, he said, "But my name's not Jimmy."
"All my bartenders are Jimmy." she said.
"Then Jimmy it is." He said back, and turned to a small monitor next to him. He fiddled with the sound. "Hope you don't mind. Cold's downstairs and setting up something."
"Cold?" she said.
"Cold's our resident fixer... he's working on the karoke machine and finishing up some work on the stage he built. Might need something from up here."
"Your fixer guy's named Cold?"
"Friend of my dad's; only name we know him as or that he answers to is 'Cold Steel Heart'"
"What kind of guy goes by a name like that?"
"The kind of guy who... one sec."
"Hey Cold."
A mellow voice came over the speaker. "Yeah, Lexy?"
"Lady here wants to know about your name."
"Tell her that I gave so many pieces of my heart away there was nothing left but a tiny piece, so I had a mechanical one built around it to protect it. And me."
Jimmy turned to the Lady, "That's his standard answer. My dad loves him."
"Your dad must be some kind of guy."
"He is; he built this place from nothing into something. And most of the people that come in are like family."
"Nice to know."
"Tell the Lady if she tells me her name, the drink's on me." said Cold's voice from the speaker.
"What the hell. It's Parker."
"Parker." said Jimmy.
"Parker." said Cold. "Like Charlie?"
"Like Charlie?" said Jimmy.
"Like Charlie." said Parker.
Jimmy busied himself with another customer, eyed the rain which had turned to a downpour, then came back over to Parker.
"Food's on soon of you get hungry. Just ask, ok?"
"A real friendly place you have here Jimmy."
"Thanks, Parker, you're welcome." he bent forward conspiratorially "Want to know what kind of guy Cold is?"
She looked at her watch, then out at the rain, then said sure.
"My dad had this room out back that was there when he built the place. When a musician would be down on his luck, he'd pawn his instrument to my dad, knowing that it would be ok, and usually get it back. Sometime those guys wouldn't come back... you know how musicians are, especially back in the day. So he wound up with a roomful of instruments. Forgot about them, until Cold found the room."
"A pretty penny, I bet."
"See, that's what I thought. But Cold got my dad to ok a pet project: why not pair a local kid with one? Good for the kid, good for the instrument, good for the bar."
"Good idea." Parker said.
"But he didn't just give any kid who walked in one, he made them help build the stage. He got them together with local players, and boom. We have a stage, and a place for them to practice, and if they were any good, a place for them to play."
"Now that's smart. A nice thing to do, especially from someone named Cold Steel Heart."
"Just goes to show you, Parker, that you never know, do you?"
"Nope, Jimmy you never do." She looked at her watch. "Thank Cold for the drink for me, ok?"
"No problem, nice to meet you."
"Same here. And here," he handed her a paper bag. "Someone left these Totes here the other day. They'll protect those nice suede shoes you're wearing. Bring them back next time you pass, k?"
Parker nodded, because that was all she could do. For the first time in a long time, she was speechless. Instead of a strike, she'd got to Home.

Another rainy day, another meeting canceled, and she found herself next to the bar again, this time music came from inside. She found herself not so much needing a drink, but more needing a smile.
She got one from Jimmy as soon as she walked inside.
"Hi, Parker, how are you?"
"Fine, Jimmy. Could I get just a coke this time?"
"Of course. Hungry?"
She didn't have any breakfast, rushing to her meeting that wasn't, so said sure.
Jimmy called out and a plate appeared. Some chicken wings, sauce, a quick salad.
"Delicious!" she pronounced, and reached for her wallet.
"On the house." Jimmy said.
"You'll go broke like that."
"Want to know a secret?"
She hunched forward. For some reason, either the way he'd said it or the fact she loved secrets made her feel warm inside.
"Spill." she said.
"What my dad got for selling the corner building... we don't worry about that in here. No reason to. Gave me the bar as a birthday present. Plus."
"And what did he get for himself?"
"Big boat in Florida, and a slice of the ocean to park it in."
"Sweet."
"Sweet all around, Parker. HE looks younger than I do now."
"Why aren't you down there enjoying the sun with him?"
"Oh, I go, but Florida bores me. Need to do something, right?"
"Right."
"And how's our Mr. Cold Steel Heart been?"
A shadow crossed Jimmy's face. A hard look, not aimed at her, but at the outside.
"He's ok."
"Something happened?"
Jimmy looked around. A passing waiter caught the look and said "Cold's out back having a cig."
Jimmy leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice.
"Fire last week had this family out on the street. Cold walked past, the family had what they could salvage on the street, trying to make some money for a place to stay. There was this scorched toy piano... Little kid holding a scorched bunny... He gave them what ever money he had... came back here with the toy piano and man, the crowd in here dug deep. He really beat the drums loud for them."
"Beat the drums?"
"An old expression. Called everyone he knew and then some. One of the Wall Streeters gave him like two grand; the rest gave even more. He went, got a bunny and a new piano, got them an apartment..."
"A Cold Steel Heart."
"Don't forget there's that one piece left."
She smiled.
Jimmy went on. "But some junky crackhead stole the piano out of here..."
"Oh shit."
"I know... he really flipped over that one. Couldn't believe it. Never saw him like that... it was icy, you know?"
"Now that's cold."
"So he's finishing up here. He told me he's leaving. He's been so... quiet. Doesn't even want to sing or anything. Said he's done."
"He's a singer?"
"Yeah... well, not good or anything. He's one of those guys, like Dylan, that sings with his soul. Transcends all that. Comes from a very special place in a man."
"I'm a singer, too."
"Then you know what I'm talking about."
"Exactly what you're talking about."
"So he just skates around, like he always did, fixing stuff, keeping the kids together, practicing in the old instrument room, getting the guys to play almost every night now. But it's different now. He's different now. Before he did it for fun, but it's just not there now..."
Jimmy poured himself a drink and turned away. Turned back.
"Sorry to be such a lousy barkeep today. Usually people come in here and tell me their problems, their stories... it's all turned around today. Sorry."
"It's ok, Jimmy, you don't know me, but I'm glad you told me... all this. Makes me feel... well shit, I've only been in here twice, but it's good to know there's people out here in the world that treat each other like family."
"Family's the most important thing, especially to some of these people who don't have any, or have families that treat each other like strangers or worse."
"That's so true, Jimmy... Lexy. I have a family and they're great, but out in the world, you forget some don't have it as good as you do. Like you and your dad."
"Me and my dad are like brothers... I don't even know if Cold even has a family. He never discusses his past. I want him to feel like me and dad are here for him if he ever needs us, but some guy's are so... closed."
Parker's phone rang and she answered it.
"Jimmy, thanks for lunch... I have to go. See you soon, ok?"
Good to see you, Parker, and thanks again. You're always welcome here. But come see Cold sing soon ok? I promise you you won't regret it."
"Ok Jimmy I will."
"And bring those Totes back if you can... this rain doesn't look like it's ever gonna stop."

The rain kept on, and Parker was wondering when it would stop. She also wondered when her long planned and carefully executed meeting would ever happen. "Three time's the charm.", she kept telling herself, but she also kept finding herself receiving a last minute phone call postponing it. But in life you keep trying, and she was determined that one way or another it would happen. Meanwhile, she found herself again on the street of the hole in the wall bar, and the thought of a warm moment inside with a friendly face made her open the door and Jimmy's warm greeting told her inside that she'd made the right choice.
"So, do you work around here?" he asked as he put a coke and a spot of lunch in front of her.
"I'm trying to get a meeting with a company here that I want to do some business with, but they keep putting me off."
"Well, I guess that's lucky for us then."
"How do you mean?"
"Since you're not much of a drinker, it had to be something that made you come back. Besides, you're wayyy to beautiful to be here just to see me."
"Thanks for the complement."
"Thanks for taking it that way. Too many people would be calling their lawyers and yelling 'sexual harassment' these days."
"And thanks now for the good idea."
"No one, especially someone like you, needs money badly enough to get it that way."
"And I do drink, Jims, I just try not to do it before big meetings, or until I get the work. Especially before noon, too."
"As dad used to say, it's always noon somewhere."
"As a bar owner, I'd say that's good for him and good for business. And how's our Cold?"
"Still an iceberg. Wish I had some way to melt him, I'll tell you. Here, the mom of that apartment story made him/us a cake, want to try a slice?"
"What kind?"
"Chocolate."
"Ahhh," she sighed, "What the hell. Bring it on James."
"As you wish. Just don't complain I'm making you fat."
"Done."
As she tried it, sighing with each forkful, she watched the monitor, and saw Cold skating by as he worked.
"Does he always skate?"
"He freaking lives on those things... actually made the stage so he could jump up to it on those 'blades."
"Neat."
"When people ask, he always says, 'I skate cos I smoke and smoke cos I skate.'"
"He must smoke a ton to skate like that."
"Not really, but it is fun when someone who weighs like 200 pounds, drinks like a fish, then has the nerve to say something to him about it. It does keep him in great shape, and he told me once that all his life he didn't have any rhythm, until he learned to skate. He either skates everywhere, or takes them with him everywhere. He's..."
"Obsessed?"
"No, I was going to say free. But I think, Parker, that it's a little of both."
"I once knew someone who didn't have any rhythm. Thought he was kidding, but he said all the women in his family got the rhythm."
"Wonder what the men got?"
"Tired, probably, trying to keep up with all the dancing."
She laughed, and Jimmy smiled at the musical tone it made.
"You've got to come sing here sometime... what do you sing?"
"Anything."
"That's good to hear."
"I think singers are born, not made."
"Funny you say that, Cold just told me last night almost the same thing...but about writing."
"He writes too, your fixer-upper/singer/now writer Mr. Cold Steel Heart?"
"Said that 'It's not what I did; it's who I am. I'd do it on a cave wall with a sharpened stick. First please yourself, it's what matters."
"Pretty philosophical."
"'bout the only thing he did say, actually."
A man in a suit runs in, clutching a box, yelling.
"I got it I got it!"
Jimmy reaches to the bar back and pours a double scotch and pushes it forward. The guy puts the box on the bar and downs it.
"Find a cat or something, Frank?"
"Fuck you Lexy I got the fucking piano!"
Frank looks at Parker then says, "Sorry ma'am I'm sorry."
"No thing," says Parker. Jimmy looks at him in disbelief.
"Don't screw with me Frank."
Frank reaches into the box and pulls out a kid's toy piano, scorched from a fire.
Jimmy quietly says, "How, Frank?"
"Saw some homeless guy with it in a cart, bought it off him--"
"Bought it?" says Jimmy.
"Yeah I bought it. No, never saw him around before... if I thought he'd had the brains to steal it I would have pulled his head off and brought that back to."
Parker looks over at the 200 pound pale flabby Wallstreeter and smiles a 'yeah, right' smile at him.
"So here it is! Where's Cold?"
Jimmy picks it up and puts it in front of Parker.
"This is it." he says, "now how we gonna deal with this."
Frank looks at Parker, then at Jimmy.
Parker says "I'd put it on a barstool, in the dark, on the stage, and when Cold skates by, put a spotlight on it."
"Perfect." says Jimmy and Frank. Jimmy says to a waiter, "Find Cold, take him out back, give him a cig, a blowjob, anything, keep him busy for a minute."
"Ok," says the waiter and goes off.
Jimmy turns to another waiter, "Who's here in the music room?"
"Four, five guys and some kids."
"Get them on the stage, ready to play, tell them to make it happen and silent, comprende?"
"What you want them to play?"
"They'll know. Tell them it's Cold's Last Song. They'll know."
The waiter sneaks off like he's on a mission for the CIA.
Frank says, "Cold's Last Song?"
Jimmy turns to Parker.
"One night, the karoke machine was busted, we raided the back room and they played for like five hours, all kinds of songs. Someone begged Cold to sing this song... it was amazing, like nothing I ever heard. The band made it sound like they'd played it for years... now, I don't go in for a lot of things people like to listen to these days, but it struck--"
"A chord?" said Parker.
"Yeah, leave it to another singer to know again what I'm trying to say... it was magic. Cold said after, after the piano was took, that he'd never sing it again. First time I saw something like tears in that guy's face. I saw then and there it, the song, singing it, took a lot out of him... stirred up some old memories or something. I want to hear it again, once, before he goes. Once, before I die."
"Can I call a friend? I want her to hear it to." said Parker, caught up in the moment.
Frank was already busy on the phone, saying again, yeah I found it, and Cold's gonna sing, get your ass here now.

Soon people were pouring through the door, and drinks were poured, beers held tight. All sorts of people from all sorts of lives, here for the quiet expectation of the moment.
Jimmy held a piece of paper in front of Frank, his tab.
Then he tore it up, and shook him hand.
"Amazing, Frank, you're my hero."
Impulsively, Parker reached over and bussed his cheek, too. Frank beamed, he smiled, he was so happy he looked like he was about to explode.
Jimmy leaned over to Parker and said, "I don't know who you're trying to get business with, but Frank knows almost everyone with money to burn in this city. He may not look like it, but those guys listen to him. Looks like you made a friend. He's harder to get to than the Mayor, that's for sure.
Hearing a bit of it, Frank came over and gave her his card. "Yeah, you need something, you call me, ok?"
"Thanks." was all Parker could say... she again was so caught up in the moment she didn't know what to say. She'd thought she'd been everywhere and seen it all; chance was now having it's little joke with her, and giving her a warm hug. Inside, she knew that somehow walking into this place was Fate, capital F.

The musicians were now on the stage in the dark, when a shaft of light came through from the side door. Jimmy's hand stood poised on a switch.
Cold wasn't a big guy, not pretty, not too bad either. On skates he moved with the feline grace, the same grace he had when walking, like a big cat.
"Ladies and gentlemen, showtime." said Jimmy, and flicked on the spotlight aimed at the stool and the piano.

Cold whirled around at the flick of the light, and looked at the stage. Emotions flickered across his face, each having their turn, and one hand moved to pull the earbuds of his ipod as the other shut it off. He skated away, then in a great leap hit the stage, but even then, the silent crowd could see the main emotion on his face was wonder. He did a slow loop around the stool, almost not believing that the piano that sat upon it was real.
Cold then flicked a look around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. He caught movement in the shadows, and he cast them a very very cold cynical look. He turned towards the door from which he'd entered. There wasn't a sound from anyone in the room; it was so quiet. He skated the length of the stage away from the stool, towards the door, then turned and then rocketed towards the light. One hand swept up the piano, and the crowd exhaled as the heat of his smile, the force of the triumph of the moment held them. He held the piano aloft, spun in a slow circle as if to acknowledge each and every heart that was beating hard in the room. Fingers found the keys, and they picked out the beginnings of Cold's Last Song. The band, each one frozen in the moment, slowly joined in as the last notes of the scorched toy piano, the dream of hope, faded. They found a home in every person in that room, and they each knew now that they carried a piece of Cold's heart with them.
Cold stood in the shaft of light.
And sang.
Parker felt the tears rush down her face but she made no move to brush them away. She felt Jimmy/Lexy's hand briefly squeeze hers, and she returned it. His was shaking. Hers was not. She didn't know what had brought her here in the first place, but later, when she thought about it, and her memory played Cold's Last Song for her, she knew it didn't matter what had. She was glad whatever did was in her life.