By Christian
The Music At The Lavender Room
What motivates Holden to stay longer?
What type of music do they play?
Can I make a connection to the ducks?
How long does he stay at the Lavender?
What does he do after he leaves the bar?
After the goddam bartender refused to give me the coke and gin that I had ordered,. . . .**Continued under Comments
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I decided to take a step outside. It was cold as hell out there so I put on my red-hunting hat. As I reached into my pocket to get out a cigarette, I felt the cold harmonica in my pocket, the harmonica that stupid Stradlater used to play. He would play it every time before he went to sleep. I knew that I could play better than him, but he never let me show him.
I thought about how I never played a harmonica since I was living at home. I would always play it when I was little. My dad taught me how to play on his old harmonica from the 30's. It was pure silver with a little rust on the back from the old age. It had the words, Bluesband printed on the top. I never knew what that meant.
I grabbed the harmonica out of my pocket. I had forgot about the cigarette that I wanted to smoke. Stradlater's harmonica was much newer than my dad's harmonica. I started to play the only song that I could remember. It sounded horrible because I was so rusty. The song was called Coming Home Baby.
I learned it back when I was in fifth grade; my neighbor taught it to me. He was really into jazz. He and his wife were about 70 years old. I went over to their house a couple times and he would show me all of his records. I felt like smashing all of them. I really hated it. But somehow I seemed to remember that song he taught me on the harmonica.
While I was playing, that old jazz performer came out. He looked older than my neighbor. He just stood there and watched me as I played my harmonica. Just observing while I played Coming Home Baby. When I was done, he gave me a short applause and introduced himself. He said his name was Charlie Parker. He was wearing a big brown coat and some long pants that made him look really fancy and all. I hope he knew he was just playing at the Lavender.
He invited me inside for a drink. Of course I said yes. We sat down by his shiny gold saxophone. It looked as if it was brand new.
“How old is this baby?” I asked. It was sitting on this stand next to the chair that he sits on while he plays.
“Uhh, I had her for about 12 years. I remember I got her when I was 58. I sure got a good deal on her,” he said. He had a deep voice that was almost shouting at you. I'm not sure if he knew how to make it any softer.
When the waiter came with our drinks, Charlie had ordered us both scotches. He picked up his saxophone and started to play the same song that I was playing, Coming Home Baby. After he played the first two lines he stopped.
“I learned that song back in that day, during my jazz band courier,” he said.
“You played in a jazz band?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. Some of my high school buddies and I made a band. Just the five of us boys. We would travel all over the nation from San Francisco, to Boston, to Indianapolis, to Little Rock. All over the United States,” he said.
I could tell that he remembered each performance that he did. He probably remembered every song and everyplace they performed in, too.
“How long have you lived in New York?” I questioned.
“Oh since Jimmy, the trumpet player, passed away. Our band couldn't go on without him, so we just broke apart.” Charlie stated with softer voice for once. He must have been thinking of how they would play in big cities and have a lot of fun.
"Oh I am sorry to hear that." I asked. When he said that, my mind went racing to the Allie. “How did he die? If you don't mind me asking.”
“Jimmy had a stroke when we had a performance in San Francisco. By the time we got him to the hospital, it was too late.” He explained.
I was thinking about telling about Allie to sort of comfort him, but I didn't want to get into all that death talk. So I changed the subject.
“Do you know where the ducks in Central Park go when in the winter when the lake freezes over?” I asked. He was about the third guy I asked already since I been here.
“I haven’t the slightest idea. Why do you ask?” Charlie said.
“Well I was just wondering. I seem to be in a similar situation myself, not knowing
where to go when something stops letting you in. But we shouldn't get into that. It’s getting late and we should get home.” I answered. I really just wanted to get out of the place. I really did.
"Yes. Well it was nice to meet you, Holden. Keep practicing your Harmonica." He advised.
Little did he know that it wasn’t mine and I stole it. I just nodded my head, said goodbye, and walked out the door. Charlie Parker was a nice guy and I liked him. He could play the saxophone better than anyone I know too.
When I was outside of the Lavender, I lit a cigarette and headed back to my room. In the lobby of the hotel, I was the only normal guy around. I thought of calling Phoebe, but it was late and she was probably sleeping. So I went into my room to smoke a cigarette and go to sleep.
Analysis
I started out with the idea of finding out that Holden was very musically inclined. He would play all these jazz songs with the musician who plays saxophone at the Lavender. I had the idea that Holden would have a lot of respect for the musician because that’s what he has a passion for and that is what he likes. When Holden and the jazz musician talked, they would have a lot in common. Such as playing jazz and the death they experienced with their friends. I had an idea that Holden was into music and jazz because of the scene in the book when he dances with the three girls at the club. I could tell that he was enjoying himself when he dances.
Holden and Charlie had the connection where Holden's brother Allie died and how Charlie's jazz band member died. Holden and Charlie both don't want to talk about such a sad subject. So Holden brings up the subject of where the ducks go when the lake freezes over, like he asks everyone else he meets who lives in New York. But like everyone else that Holden asks, Charlie doesn't know.
I was thinking of having Holden going to Charlie’s house to hang out. They would have looked at all of Charlie’s jazz records, instruments, and pictures. But I thought about it and it wouldn't fit in because that isn’t something that Holden would do. That is something which someone wouldn't ask the first time you meet them. So I ended up writing in that Holden just goes back to the hotel, smoking a cigarette, and going to sleep.
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