Chapter 2: Band on the Run

After working for a day hauling bags of wheat, Bob had a few silver coins to go to the Red Rooster with. Bob was familiar with the Red Rooster. It was a little famous for being the watering hole for some local laborers and the students at the local Bard College. Sometimes, there were fights between the two groups, but for the most part they got along alright.

Bob walked in and went up to the bar and ordered a lager. When the publican brought it over, Bob asked if someone was looking for a band member. The publican looked him over and said we don’t assist adventurers with jobs here. Try the sword and shield near the river. Bob looked at his muscles. He was definitely bigger than even the average laborer here. Actually, he was exceedingly stronger.

“Nah, man, I ain’t no adventurer. I’m a drummer.” Bob then pulled out two sticks and rat-a-tat rapped them on the bar with impressive dextrous skill.

The publican’s eyes grew large. “Yeah, I think I know a guy who is looking for a drummer. Just a minute.”

The publican sauntered back with a slightly sauced half-elven looking guy. “This is Jazz Lee Starr.”

“I’m Bob.”

“Bob what?”

“Oh, I forgot, some call me Bob Brave. I can drum.” And, with that Bob did another rat-a-tat-tat with his sticks.

“I dig it,”Said Jazz,”Yeah, you’ll do. Put a little make up on you and you’d fit in just fine.”

Bob and Jazz started getting together nightly in a little practice place behind the pub, as they worried that their loud jams might annoy others, especially before they got them right.

“ Hey, we are getting pretty good,” Bob said.

“Yeah, we can get a groove on, can't’ we?” said Jazz, “So, what should we call ourselves, Jazzy Jazz and the Brave One?”

“ How about Waking the Dead?” suggested Bob, “We are loud.”

“Nah man. That can really happen. You don’t want to test fate,” said Jazz.

Well then, let’s call ourselves one,” said Bob, holding up a single finger. “Since, we are going to be number one!”

Jazz laughed. “Nah man, round here, we better call ourselves Twenty, that is more what people want,” said Jazz, still laughing.

Bob laughed as well. “Well, how about Hope, that is what people really want.”

“Hmm...it is a little too simple. How about Hope on the Run, that is more likely what people find,” countered Jazz.

“We could always abbreviate it H.O.T. Run!” suggested Bob.

“I guess that works for now,” said Jazz, “everyone needs a start with a run of hope if you ask me.”

“Cool. Being a musician is so much more fun than being a soldier,” said Bob.

“Were you a soldier, Bob?”

“Umm...I just like the name Run of Hope. So, what do we do next?

“There is a big talent show coming up. The prize money is really huge! But, it costs a gold piece to enter."

“A whole gold piece! The two of us could work for a month and not get that kind of money. Why is it always so hard to start things?”

“Maybe we really do need a run of hope!”

Jazz and Bob started to laugh.

“Anyway, I think I know where we can get the money,” said Jazz, “Lefty is always generous with the loans.”

“Who or what is Lefty?”

“Lefty and Mute Mike are two cats that hang out in front of the Student Union at the Bard College. Mute Mike don’t say anything. Mike says he is funnier that way.”

Bob mouthed: cats? funnier that way?

“ Well, they are not really cats. Mute Mike is not even human. He is a puppet.”

A puppet? Mouthed Bob.

Yeah, a puppet. Lefty said the nobles really enjoy his act. He says they think it is real original that the puppet can’t speak. They say it is so different that they love it!”

“If you ask me, the nobles around here are a little screwy.”

“Shh...don’t say that. We’ll get into trouble if someone hears us.”

“Aren’t bands supposed to get into trouble? Aren’t the most famous Bards the one’s that know how to make fun of the nobles the best?”

“Nah, bands only get into trouble if it makes them money, and we haven’t made any yet.”

Bob looked to the ground with that.

“Anyway Bob,” Jazz said, “Lefty has connections. And, if the students at the Bard College need anything, they go to Lefty. It comes at a price, but he’s pretty affordable, and my fellow students tell me there is nothing he can’t get. I’m sure he will lend us the money.”

Yeah, but how will we pay back Lefty?”

With the prize money of course.”

“What if we don’t win?”

“Good bands win. Bad bands get in trouble. Either way we win.”

“Can I shout: the nobles aren’t!”

“Only if we lose, Bob, only if we lose.”

“Deal.”

Bob and Jazz headed off for the student center at the Bard College. There they see this short

creature with a hoodie over his face, slouched, seemingly bobbing to some unheard music. He had a puppet on his right hand.

“Hey lefty, what’re you dancing to?” asked Jazz.

“Bouncing Bard. He kicks,” responded Lefty.

“Yeah, he’s alright.”

“ Alright? No one slays a lute like the Bouncer!”

“ Yeah, but that’s my point. He still plays a lute. That is like so yesterday.”

“No point ruining perfection, man. What can I do for you anyway? I don’t think you are here to discuss music history with a low life like me.”

“Umm…”

“I guess you are not looking for tickets to Bouncing’s concert, can I get you some Madness enthused Wine?

“Umm…”

“What’s up with you are you shy? You need some company for the evening? Something unusual? Is that why you’re shy?”

Just umm…a gold piece.”

“A gold piece! Yeah, I can get that for you. When can you pay me back?”

“Next week.”

Lefty pulled out a little bag, and pulled out a coin. It gleamed in light. “Here you are. A whole gold piece.”

Bob stepped forward. “Can I ask a question?”

“No.” said Jazz, shaking his head.

What’s up with the puppet?” asked Bob.

Jazz’s face fell.

Lefty’s face beamed. Then, Lefty lifted his left hand with the puppet toward Bob’s face. The puppet’s mouth opened and closed a few times.

What’s it saying?” asked Bob.

“Bob!” said Jazz in a muffled screamed.

“He is saying mind your own business. You overgrown turnip. You are so dumb, you think a book is something to wipe your bottom with. If you were a vegetable, you’d be a rutabaga."

“ A rutabaga?” questioned Bob.

“See. You don’t even know what a rutabaga is. That is how dumb you are.”

Bob turned to Jazz. “Did that puppet just insult me.”

“I am afraid so,” said Jazz.

“ Can we put the puppet in our show, Jazz?”

“I don’t think we can afford him, Bob. Maybe after we win the contest.”

“Got it. Nice to meet you Mute Mike. Stay mute. I don’t think speaking is your best suit.”

The puppet still in Bob’s face started opening and closing its mouth.

“Now, what is the puppet saying?” asked Bob.

“ Bob! Stop asking what it is saying!” said Jazz.

“Mike here is just saying that your judgement is so poor, your ma asks how many cockroaches you want with dinner.”

“Okay, I get it,” said Bob, “never talk to a puppet.”

“ Yeeeaaah…” responded Jazz. “Come on. We got our gold piece. Let’s get ready for the contest.”

“You nervous?” asked Jazz.

I’m good. We’ve been practicing nearly around the clock. We rock,” responded Bob.

"Hey, that sounds like a good idea for a song! Anyway, we really sound good, so don’t worry.”

“When are we up?”

“Should be soon. At least we don’t have to follow any puppets.”

“ Good point. We’ve got to win. Otherwise we are going to owe Lefty a gold piece. Then, what?”

“Best to not think about it. Anyway, I am not worried I think we sound pretty good!”

Yeah, we do, don’t we?

“Exactly. Let’s kill ‘em!”

What? With my sticks?

“Yes, but with a rat-a-tat-tat that you do. Your adventuring days are done.”

"I never told you I soldiered.”

“You didn’t have to. I went to Bard College. I can tell.”

Oh…”

“Okay, that is us. Time to work.”

Bob started to beat on his drums. From nowhere a light fell on Jazz. His arm went up...as if to strum his lute, but it didn’t go down.

“Jazz,” whispered Bob, “you going to play?”

Jazz’s hand once again lifted up.

"Jazz!” more audibly whispered Bob. “You are supposed to come in.”

Before Jazz’s hand came down, he turned and ran off stage.

The crowd started to boo.

Bob stopped drumming. Those faces don’t look happy. I am out of here, too.

The MC jumped on stage. “Let’s hear it for the Band on the Run!”

A scattering of claps and boos emanated from the audience.

“And, an act I think you will really like Babenksha and his dancing Psuedo Dragon!”