Chapter Twenty-Four

Dewitt, Willie and T. P. sit around a large dining table, having just finished a big meal. They are relaxed and satisfied and voicing appreciations to Michael as he clears the table.

Dewitt extols the evening meal.

“That was good! Yum!”

T. P. looks at Willie and gives a confidential chuckle.

Michael returns and announces, “I bring dessert now. We have special dessert, fixed by Mister T. P.!”

T. P. jumps up from the table, excited.

“I’ll get it; let me get it!” he says.

Michael smiles and holds the door to let T. P. pass into the kitchen.

Willie asks Dewitt, “Doc, you like dessert?”

“Yeah, man, of course. You’re telling me... ?”

Willie nods.

“T. P.?” he says. “One of the best pastry and cake makers this side of the state. Learned everything in the pokie. – Who says you can’t re-habitate people?”

“Well,” laughs Dewitt, “I see he’s still at it. The criminal side, I mean.”

“We ain’t got no down payment to open up a shop, Doc,” says Willie, sadly.

Dewitt looks towards the kitchen door.

“Hey, no file in the cake, I guess,” he wonders.

Willie laughs.

“Right. No file in the cake. You can’t escape. You’re funny, Doc. I hope Mister Nickels likes you when you and he meets.”

Michael swings open the kitchen door and T. P. enters triumphantly, carrying a beautiful coconut cake.

T. P. smiles toward Dewitt.

“Hope you like coconut!” he says.

Dewitt assures him he does.

“I wish it was somebody’s birthday!” extols T. P.

“Yeah,” says Willie, “Then I could play ‘Happy Birthday’ on my mouth harp. You know, Doc, my harmonica.”

Dewitt answers wistfully.

“Bet you play ‘The Blues,’ Willie. You know, the twelve-bar blues,” he says.

“You kiddin’?” replies Willie. “I’m there! – You play, Doc?”

“Well, I did see that ol’ piano in the living room. Looks like it came out of a brothel,” laughs Dewitt.

“It did,” says Willie. “Mister Nickels won it in a poker game, I heard. Years ago in Nevada. – We’ll play, like, a duet or somethin’, okay, Doc?”

Dewitt gazes out toward the living room and sighs. He rubs his chin. He finally answers Willie.

“Uh, what’s that you said?”

“Willie asked if you-” starts T. P. but is warned with a small wag of the finger from Willie.

Willie drops his head, as do T. P. and Michael. Dewitt rubs the fingers of each hand together, silently.

“It’s been awhile,” he says, a bit choked up. “You know, I... I’m just afraid I’d be rusty, that’s all.”

Dewitt swallows hard. Willie nods his head and reflects.

“Doc, my daddy once told me, once a man plays ‘The Blues’ he never will forget. Nor will he ever be without friends the rest of his days.”

Dewitt brightens.

“Hey, why not? I’m not going anywhere. Let’s do it!”

“Okay, Doc,” beams Willie. “Doctor Deee-witt! You and me’ll play away them blues till them blues is played away!”

Everyone looks at the cake again. Willie turns toward Michael.

“Michael,” he says, “let’s eat our cake in the living room. You join, yes?”

Michael happily replies, “I join you, yes.”

Michael reaches to pick up the cake but notes, “Cake very big, Mister Willie. I cut in two.”

“Hey,” says T. P., “then it’s not like the old saying after all.”

Dewitt and Willie look at him, questioning.

“You can half your cake and eat it, too!” says T. P. in all seriousness.

Dewitt and Willie chuckle. Neither T. P. nor Michael “gets” it. They look at one another to see if the other knows what’s funny. They shrug their shoulders.

The four men head for the living room, Dewitt wheeling nicely along, his head swaying to some yet to be played blues number.

In the living room of the ranch, Dewitt sits in his wheelchair at the piano, with T. P. along side on the piano bench, his foot resting on the piano’s sustain pedal. Willie is off to the left, sitting in a chair, as Michael listens, fascinated, from across the room.

Dewitt starts in on the blues, a slow twelve-bar blues. His eyes are first on Willie, who is nodding in time with the rhythm. But soon his eyes are closed and he plays without a wisp of effort.

T. P. keeps good time on the sustain, looking silently ahead, his head ticking like a grandfather clock to the steady rhythm.

And Willie? Willie just plays his harmonica, listening to the rhythm. Listening to the rhythm and playing.

The Blues.

T. P. said later, you just had to be there, but it was Willie who captured it best: It was just one of them Kodiak moments.