One Week Gig

Rufus Jr. Curry

Description

Fiction / Romance / Adult

Caught in the crossfire between justification and knowing, Chapman Sweet, Jr. works to untangle the present mess he finds his life in. Surrounded by a smorgasbord of feminine opportunities and advisors, the leader of the Chapman Sweet Band stands in the middle of the crossroads to Heaven and Hell. Three beautiful women tarry in the hall of his desire, waiting for his decision. Desperate measures rise as the sole option, in the quest for a One Week Gig. Music, friends, food, laughs laced with tears, combined to pave the way to what could be.

* Can a husband and wife have their dreams and be happy in marriage at the same time?
* She is supposed to make me happy!
* He is supposed to make me happy!
* If she won't, I know somebody else will.
* God said...?

Sujets

• R 'n B
• Styles
• Genres
• Soul
• Music

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 21 février 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9780982281154
• Langue: English

Extrait

One Week Gig
 
 
Written by
 
Rufus Curry, Jr.
 
 


 
Copyright © 2009 by Rufus Curry, Jr.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except for the inclusion of brief in a review, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.
 
Published in eBook format by Be Reel Productions, LLC
Converted by http://www.eBookIt.com
 
ISBN-13: 978-0-9822-8115-4
 
One Week Gig
 
First Printing March 2009
 
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Curry, Jr.
 

 


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
 
I give thanks to God (Love) who deliberately created me for this time. To His son, Jesus, the Christ who is my example of what a man is and can be. He is never bound by dogma, and is Love without beginning or end. To love like Christ is my goal.
I honor my grandmother, Lucille “Big Mama” McSmith Morley , for enduring my endless questions, my endless kisses, and my request for her to tell her stories to me again and again. Big Mama looked deep into me and saw something worth mining for…so she dug until the day she died. In honor of my father, Rufus Curry, Sr ., who was in my life 4 years, 4 months, and 14 days (Never enough!). My Daddy gave me his name, his DNA and as much of himself as he could during our brief time together. My love and honor of good music and my ability to see “The Creator” in creative expressions, the spirit of an entrepreneur, creativity, and my ability to Dream Big, was instilled in me in just 4 years, 4 months, and 14 days. Honoring my mother, Doris Morley Curry , she is my example of a great woman, a mother and a wife. My mother offered her life as a living sacrifice, for me and my sister Bonita. She is the mother who stepped up and performed some of the duties of a father. She is my champion, coach, and the mother who boldly prepared me and sent me out into the world, when others advised against her actions. She knew in her heart what I had to become, as her mortality approached on the horizon. Mama, I still remember, the last time, you looked at me and drank me in with your tired eyes. I did not know it then, but, I do believe you knew…it would be the last time you would see me in this life. Mama…Eternal Love is what I have for you. I love you.
Mount Hermon AME Church , Fort Lauderdale, FL (Sunday school, Young Peoples Department), Mrs. Ivey Patterson-Calloway , my 9 th grade English Teacher/Angel…you could have crushed me…but you didn’t. Thanks! Mrs. Edwina Cargill my 12 th grade English/Black Humanities teacher, you don’t know what you did for this drifting nomad of a student, in the desert of his life. When I stopped at “Oasis Edwina”, you made me believe I had something of value to offer. Priceless! Coach Carl Ferrara , convinced me to believe that if I am doing what I was born to do, even the hard work will be fun. Coach Maulty Moore (Bethune-Cookman College, Miami Dolphins, Super Bowl Champions ’71, ’72) your conversations, rides home in the 1939 Dodge, and taking me to my first NFL game (Dolphins beat the Colts, Orange Bowl 1979). Priceless! Mr. John Gray (Southern University, Negro League Baseball Star) rides home in the Volkswagen van and the lessons to live by. Thanks for the words of encouragement.
Florida A&M University, (Division of Bands) Dr. William P. Foster (Director of Bands Emeritus) , Dr. Julian E. White (Director of Bands) , Dr. Shaylor “Prof.” L. James , Mr. Lindsey Sarjeant and Mr. Charles S. Bing . Dr. Shelby R. Chipman “…I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked”, Psalms 84:10 (I would rather stand on the sideline and hold the ladder for the director of bands of the FAMU Marching 100, than to be the head drum major in another university’s marching band.). FAMU ROTC: LTC Charles “Charlie” Hobbs , you were right. Sign me up again. COL Bernard “Bacon Fat” Hendricks , I choose to be a Superhero. It has not failed me yet. Airborne!
Friends: My love affair with ALL of you will never end. Bro. Jeff “Oatmeal” Turner , Jonathan and David ain’t got nothing’ on us. Psalm 133, friendship. My Mastermind partners/friends, Ms. Beatrice Louissaint and Ms. Angela M. Williams (International Mastermind Organization), both of you held my hand and cracked the whip. Mark 11:24 You all are my Sister Soldiers and The Optimist Creed is our mantra. Chaplain COL Alvin E. Miller, Sr. U.S. Army (My Spiritual Battle Buddy) you foretold of this day. Psalm 23:1, keep the good news coming. “Friendship is essential to the soul” Omega Psi Phi, Fraternity, Inc. To the souls of all individuals and organizations, your friendship is essential to my soul.
Gone but not forgotten: Bro. Rufus “Mike” Michael Mosby , there is no one in the world more qualified to sit in the back of the school bus with me, and sing “Happy Feelings” by, Frankie Beverly and Maze. FUN! Bro. Rick McFadden , a road trip will never be the same (we clocked some miles…Didn’t we?). Bro. Norman McKinley Wilkerson , you could see the good in a basket of bad (Optimism). Uncle Benjamin “Benny” Curry , thanks for seeing me when I became invisible to others. Uncle Leroy L. Morley , for rides to school on your shoulders, for always making a space for me in your already full house and making me your practice son. You taught me what COOL is and you never forgot my mother, Bonita or me. I love all of you.
Dorothy “GuGu” Baxter Wanton (Mother-in-law), Harvey “Papa” L. Wanton (Father-In-law) and Tia Wanton (Sister-In-law). GuGu, I typed my first screenplay and the genesis of One Week Gig on your first computer. Thanks for believing in me (don’t cry). I know my mother appreciates you all for taking me in, and Lovin’ me right. My sisters Bonita and Linda , there are no greater promoters of
 
Thanks a million. To my family ( aunts, uncles, cousins , nieces, nephew and God children ), I am happy to be a part of your lives. Thanks to my Aunt Gloria Morley Franklin for embracing my wife and children and to my Uncle Rev. Benjamin “Benny” Franklin, Sr. , for providing the spiritual, philosophical and intellectual stimulation I hunger for. Uncle Benny, I love Jazz! Thanks.
Brianna Valarie Curry , you are just what I prayed, dreamed and hoped a daughter would be. I am becoming the kind of man I pray for you to marry. I love you. Micah Rufus Curry , (My Big Brother) you are the result of seven years of prayer and my mother’s last verbal directive to your mother and me before she passed on (“You all need to have a boy.”). I want to grow up to be just like you. I am reliving my boyhood through you. I hope you don’t mind. Brianna and Micah…Animated Love! Valarie H. Wanton-Curry , you are my concrete evidence that God loves me. Pastor Ed Bacon said, “Mercy is what we do not deserve, and Grace is what we absolutely do not deserve.” I do my best to do “IT” for you. Let the record show that you do “IT” for me. You are my friend, my wife, my lover, and the mother of our children. You believe in me even when I question myself. Napoleon Hill states in the book Think and Grow Rich , “No man is happy or complete without the modifying influence of the right woman.” Continue to grow for yourself, me, our children and the universe. With rhapsodic love, girl, you are My Muse !
To anyone who has assisted in making me what I am becoming, words cannot describe my gratitude. I honor and acknowledge all of you.
 
Cover Design: James Miller
Cover Photography: Sergio Camero
Female Model: Darshane Johnson, Actress / Model
Male Model: Rufus Curry, Jr.
Editor: Robin Pendleton, M.S. Author / Editor
Typesetter: Dr. Mia Merritt, Ed. D, Principal / Teacher / Author
Proofreader/Editor: Tracey L. Willis
 
Introduction To Conflict
Chapter 1
 
 
I stood in front of my beginning band class as they fumbled through the music for the halftime show that just happened to be two weeks away. As they played, I cut them off and gave them a look that if it were a gun, I’d be doing quadruple life for the massacre of a class of what were supposed to be some of the finest, middle school musicians in the state of Florida. I thought to myself, “Damn, somebody sure pulled the ole switch-a-roo on me.” I tapped the music stand in front of me with my baton.
"Okay ladies and gents, let’s take it from letter D. Now sing through those horns. Remember the horn is an extension of your voice.”
I snapped my baton up crisper than an overdone saltine cracker. The students’ response to my baton was less than acceptable. “Is that the best that you’ve got? Do it again, so we can see how many laps it takes to render a freshman band student unconscious.”
I raised my baton crisp again, and the snap up of those instruments looked so sweet, I had to do it again just to be sure it wasn’t a fluke. I counted them off, “1,2,3,4”. Man, they sounded as if someone had switched the band while my head was down. Now here we were playing Getaway by Earth, Wind & Fire. I doubt if any of the kids even know who EWF are.
Believe me before their four years at Freedman High are up, I’m going to have all of that old school music pumpin’ through their veins. Well, we made it through another rehearsal.
“I expect all of you to go home tonight and put in two more hours on this music. All songs will be memorized by Thursday, and we shake the tree for the starting line up on Saturday morning. Any questions?” I see a hand in the back.
“There is no way to remember all fifteen of these songs by Thursday, and my Mama said I need to go shopping for back-to-school clothes this weekend too,” squeaks little Willie McFadder.
I pause for a moment to let little Willie McFadder’s question marinade on the brain cells of those who face the same dilemma. It’s amazing how dumb a freshman can look. I guess it comes with the territory. Be you fresh meat in high school, college, or even the military, it’s all the same. I’m going to take my time with this one, because if there’s one thing I hate when dealing with young musicians, it