Chapter 13: We Called Him Budder
“His real name was, Roger.”
Big Man back in the booth.
Big Man talking with head down, eyes closed, Stick a good man, he understood, he had two more shots waiting when he came back.
Stick knows, been there, asks no questions, Stick knows there aren’t any real answers anyway.
“Give me a second Stick,” Big Man starts to get up from the booth, “Hey, do you have any quarters.”
“Um, wait, um, two, you want them.”
“Yep”
Two quarters get slid across the booth table.
Big Man picks the money up and walks to the front of the bar.
Big Man drops both quarters into the jukebox slot.
Hits two buttons: Q and 4.
Walks away.
Big Man sits back down in the booth, Slick starts to say something, but Big Man puts one finger to his mouth and says, “Shhhhh…”
Jukebox song starts to play.
“Once, there was a way
To get back homeward…”
Big Man sits in the booth, Big Man leans back into the back board of the booth, Big Man eyes are closed, Big Man starts to sing in a whisper…
…Big Man starts to cry.
Stick bows his head stares at the table top.
Give the Big Man time.
Time.
“The black guy’s name was Roger, he was my best friend, all the guys, me too, we all called him, “Budder” …
Stick just listening.
“…he grew up on the street, Mama had several kids with several daddies, to many mouths, too little money.”
Big Man rocking slightly back and forth to the music.
“Roger, skinny, heavy breeze damn near carried him away, he said he weighed 150, maybe so but that only possible if he was holding a 25-pound weight.”
Big Man rocking slightly back and forth to the music.
“He pretty much grew up on the streets of Houston, did odd jobs with odd people, had some Juvee issues, nothing serious, drafted, didn’t fight it, said why not, never pass up a free meal, free bed.”
Big Man rocking slightly back and forth to the music.
Big Man starts to whisper the lyrics…
“Once, there was a way
To get back homeward…”
And so, we sat.
Talked some, listened some, silent some.
Never told Stick this though.
When Roger was hit and I was holding him waiting for the medics…
…softly…
…just between me and him…
…quietly so no one would hear...
…I sang to him…
…this:
“…Once, there was a way
To get back home
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry
And I will sing a lullaby…”
…it is what he heard…
…when he died.
R.I.P…..
…Budder.