"Howard Waldrop - Ike At The Mike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Waldrop Howard)

"That's a lie!" said Pops. "You could be my father."

"Maybe he is!" yelled Perkins, the guitar man, fiddling with the knobs on his
amp.

Ike nearly swallowed his mouthpiece. The drummer did a paradiddle.

"Hush, hush, you clowns!" yelled Pops.

Ike smiled and looked up at the drummer, a young kid. But he'd been with
Pops's new band for a couple of years. So he must be all right.

Eisenhower heaved a sigh when no one was looking. He had to get the tightness
out of his chest. It had started at George's funeral, a pain crying did not
relieve. No one but he and Helen knew that he had had two mild heart attacks
in the last six years. Hell, he thought, I'm almost eighty years old. I'm
entitled to a few heart attacks. But not here, not tonight.

They dimmed the work lights. Pops had run into the back kitchen and blown a
few screaming notes, which they heard through two concrete walls. He was
ready.

"When you gonna quit playing, Pops?" asked Ike.

"Man, I ain't ever gonna quit. They're gonna

have to dig me up three weeks after I die and . break this horn to stop the
noise comin' outta the ground." He looked at the lights. "Ease on off to the
left there, Ike. Let us get them all ready for you. Come in on the chorus of
the third song."

"Which one's that?" asked Ike, looking for . his play sheet.

"You'll know it when you hear it," said Pops. He took out his handkerchief.
"You .s taught it to me."

Ike went into the wings and waited.
The crowd was tasteful, expectant. .

The band hit the music hard, from the opening, and Armstrong led off with "The
Y King Porter Stomp." His horn was flashing sparks, and the medal on his
jacket front caught the spotlight like a big golden eye.

Then they launched into "Basin Street Blues," the horn sweet and slow and
mellow, .. the band doing nothing but carrying a light line t behind.
Armstrong was totally absorbed in his music, staring not at the audience but
down at his horn.

He had come a long way since he used to hawk coal from the back of a wagon;
since he was thrown into the Colored Waifs Home in New Orleans for firing off