The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

On Friday, I talked with Mr. Proilet after band class.

“I have an idea for the talent show.”

Mr. Proilet looked a bit surprised. “An idea?”

That look made me feel a bit sheepish. “Well, I was originally thinking about entering the talent show this year. When I told Sherry, she told me that if I entered, nobody else would show up. I think she was probably exaggerating, but she did make me think about it.”

Mr. Proilet smiled. “It could be intimidating to others to know that you are on the schedule to perform. What’s the expression? ‘Nobody wants to follow Jimi Hendrix?’”

I protested that remark. “I don’t even play the guitar!”

“You were saying that you had an idea for the show,” my teacher said, bringing us back to the topic at hand. “Do you really want to perform?”

“Actually, I had an idea,” I said. “What if we donated the services of the jazz band for the people who wanted to perform?”

“Donate?”

“The big problem I’ve seen with school talent shows is that you get a few people playing the piano, or a few of the musicians in the band or orchestra playing duets and stuff like that. There are a few people doing other things, like juggling or even telling jokes, but the majority of them do musical things.”

“Uh, huh.”

“I remember in elementary school, kids used to mouth the words to songs on a record. I think we might be able to get a few people to do that again... but with a band behind them, so that instead of just mouthing the words, they’re really singing.”

Mr. Proilet was quiet for a few moments. “Wouldn’t that turn it from showcasing the talents of the students into showcasing the jazz band?”

“We could use the band as the glue to keep everything together. Put on a show like Ed Sullivan... you know.”

Mr. Proilet laughed. “Maybe that could work. I don’t remember you bringing this up at the rehearsal yesterday.”

“I didn’t,” I said. “I had the idea last night.”

“You may want to find out how the other members of the jazz band feel about you volunteering them.”

“Actually, I figured that I’d just ask for volunteers and see who does. We have quite a few people, and this would be a good way to find out who really has the drive to play as opposed to simply being a part of something that’s become popular.”

“Hmm, that’s a good idea,” Mr. Proilet said, pondering that thought. “Let me talk it over with Mr. Ryan and Ms. Kendall. I think they’ll love the idea of the jazz band getting involved.”

Those two people were the orchestra leader and the chorus instructor, respectively. They, along with Mr. Proilet, were running the talent show.

I nodded. “Thanks.”

I had some other ideas about the talent show, but I decided to keep them to myself for the time being.

I saw Sherry at lunch, and she didn’t seem as disturbed as she was yesterday. I did notice some looks exchanged between June and Sherry when they didn’t think I was looking.

Sitting in the cafeteria, I kept thinking about the previous school year when I had Patty and Kristen at lunch with me. I really missed those two very much.

“What’s on your mind, Jim?” June asked, breaking me out of my reverie.

“I was just thinking about last year.”

“You were frowning... does that mean you are missing Kristen?”

I think I must have blushed as June knew exactly what I was thinking. “Yeah.”

June pulled me toward her into a hug. “Poor Oogie.”

This generated some giggles from the other cheerleaders at the table.

“Thanks, Juicy,” I said to June, as I got up from the table.

“Juicy?” Sherry asked, confused.

“Ask June,” I said, suppressing a giggle myself. I wondered if June would actually tell Sherry about that nickname that, up until now, I had only used with her privately.

“Where are you going?” Sherry asked. “There’s still another half hour.”

“I’m going to one of the music practice rooms. I want to see if I can put together some music.”

I could feel the heat on my back as a bunch of female eyes watched me leave.

Mr. Proilet looked up from his desk as I walked into the music room. I simply smiled at him as I walked to one of the practice rooms and shut the door behind me. I started to play, from memory, the piano intro to the song that had been playing in my head for a day or so now.

I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I barely heard the bell signifying the end of the period. I had music sheets everywhere all over the room.

“Shit!” I said, grabbing all of the sheets and trying to get them in some semblance of order.

It was only after I got out of the practice room and saw the familiar people in the music room that I realized that my next period was Music Theory... I was already in the room that I needed to be in!

My teacher smiled at me and saw the stack of papers that were in my hand. “Getting a head start on classwork?”

“Um...” I looked sheepishly at the scores in my hand. “Yeah... I guess. I lost track of the time...”

Most of the room laughed at me, including my teacher.

Mr. Proilet nodded toward the practice room. “You can go back to what you were doing, Jim. I’ll have somebody let you know when there’s about five minutes before the bell. All right?”

“Um... thanks...”

I went back to the practice room and continued scoring and doodling on the piano. I made a mental note to talk with the Swifts—preferably Charlie—later this evening.

At the end of U.S. history, my last class of the day, I watched Sherry and the other students walk out of the room. I was about to go when I remembered a question that I wanted to ask my teacher.

“Mr. Stiles, do you have a few minutes to talk about something?”

The teacher looked at me and smiled. “Sure, Jim. What’s on your mind?”

“I have a general question about history and wondered if you could help me.”

Mr. Stiles raised his eyebrows and said, “Hmm. What’s the question?”

“Actually, there are a couple of questions. First, have you ever heard the expression, ‘With great power comes great responsibility?’” I recalled hearing Sherry use that expression the other day.

The teacher smiled. “Ah, Spiderman and the eternal loneliness of the super hero.”

Ah, yes! That’s where I heard it. I nodded to the teacher and decided to take an alternate track. “We’ve all heard the expression, ‘Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts, absolutely.’ Does history really bear this out?”

My history teacher looked at me a bit strangely. “Hitler had absolute power.”

I was ready for that particular example. After all, I’ve spent many sleepless nights considering the power of the tickets and the repercussions of them. “It can be argued that Hitler was corrupted before he came to power. He wrote ‘Mein Kampf’ when he was in prison.”

This impressed my teacher. “You have a good point there. Why are you asking these questions?”

“I was wondering if the expression is true. I mean, what if you had absolute power, but knew the expression and tried to avoid corruption?”

“Your question sounds like one that you’d hear in an intro philosophy course in college.”

I smiled. “I took some college courses, but not philosophy.”

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Stiles said, smiling. “Jean Proilet and his music courses.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say next.

My teacher looked at me thoughtfully. “I think history shows us that Peter Parker’s dilemma does bear out. For instance, we have Leonid Brezhnev and President Ford as the world leaders with the most power. Each one has to walk on eggshells to avoid insulting the other too much. At the same time, they both have to appear strong to their constituencies, but not scare the rest of the world into thinking that another world war is about to erupt.”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“How familiar are you with the British?”

“Huh?” I asked, a bit surprised by the question. “You mean England?”

“Yes. They are ruled by a prime minister. However, they also have a queen: Queen Elizabeth. She was crowned in 1953, and before that, she was called the Heir Presumptive.”

I interjected. “Presumptive? I’ve heard of the term ‘Heir Apparent.’”

My teacher smiled. “If her parents had a son after she was born, he would have been entitled ‘Heir to the Throne.’ The titles are specific and are taken very seriously in Great Britain.”

I nodded, not truly understanding the traditions and terminology.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Queen Elizabeth is the Queen of England, a position that is now relatively ceremonial. However, despite that, she has to act like a monarch at all times. When royalty visits her country, the official position is that they visit the Queen. In addition, the Queen has to give royal affirmation before any bill from parliament becomes law.”

I nodded, not quite understanding where my teacher was going with this.

“In reality, the Queen’s job is to remain neutral in political matters. The Queen signs all laws as a mere formality. The Queen and her family still act in public as they are expected to... something that we in the United States sometimes consider pompous. However, the nobility in Britain take their titles seriously. Her son Charles, the Duke of Cornwall, became the Prince of Wales in 1958, although the ceremony didn’t take place until 1969 at the age of twenty-one. He is the Heir Apparent to the British Throne.”

“OK...” I said slowly, very much confused.

“I’m sorry for rattling on about this. It’s one of my passions, actually. Anyway, there is a term that is applied to people of noble birth. I forget the person that coined the term, but it’s called ‘Noblesse Oblige’—the obligation of nobility to act according to a noble code of conduct, just like the ancient knights—acting for the good of all the people without regard to yourself.”

“Noblesse...?”

“Noblesse Oblige,” Mr. Stiles repeated. “It’s French, and means, literally, ‘Noble Obligation.’”

“Noblesse Oblige,” I said, trying out the expression.

“I was explaining about power before, and it occurred to me that in order to wield power properly, you need to use it selflessly. Let’s take you for example.”

This last statement startled me. “Um... me?”

“You, Mr. Crittenhouse,” Mr. Stiles said, smiling. “You are an extremely gifted and talented musician. Jean Proilet raved about you even while you were in junior high school. Last year when you took over the Jazz Band, you could have used it as a platform to show everybody think you were great. I’ve seen other students in similar situations do things like that. However, you allowed your fellow musicians take their solos, and made each member look great. I went to every one of your concerts, and to each performance of the school musical. Not once did you take a solo! You were just at the podium, letting every other student shine.”

As usual, such praise from a teacher started to embarrass me.

“Now do you see what I mean by the responsibilities of power?” Mr. Stiles asked.

“Huh?”

“Instead of shining the spotlight on yourself, which would have been easy, you instead shined that spotlight on your fellow students.” My history teacher put his hands together. “Everybody realized that it was you behind the scenes that was responsible for the spring concert. You were there arranging parts, helping your fellow students rehearse, and, if my information is correct, even helping an athlete learn to read music in just a few months. You may not have known the term ‘Noblesse Oblige,’ but you were living it.”

I didn’t know what to say in response.

My teacher didn’t wait for any comment from me. He said, “If anything, power incurs responsibility. If not, nature has a way of rectifying things. If a leader is powerful and does not act in a responsible way, the situation will eventually be rectified. In the example of Hitler, who did indeed experience close to absolute power in Europe, his irresponsible actions caused one of his country’s allies to change sides, forcing Germany to once again fight a world war on two fronts. This directly led to his downfall.”

There was some silence as my teacher allowed his words to sink in.

“Hmm,” I finally said. “I’ll need to think about that.”

“That’s never a bad idea. A teacher always likes to hear that his students want to think about something!”

The two of us laughed, and it broke the tension that started when my teacher was lavishing his praise on my talents. There was something embarrassing about having those kinds of things told to me by adults.

The time was getting late, so I thanked my teacher, and he surprised me by shaking my hand. “I’m glad we had this talk, Jim. If you ever want to talk, whether it be about history, the British monarchy, or just about life in general, feel free to find me and we’ll set up some time together.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stiles. I’ll do that.”

The school was mostly empty when I got out of the building. I saw June and Sherry standing over by June’s car, patiently waiting for me to arrive. I saw them and waved as I walked over toward them.

Before I could get to where the two girls were, I was apprehended from behind.

“Jim! Can I talk with you?”

It was Roy, one of my closest male friends. I glanced back at the parking lot and saw the two girls getting into June’s car.

I turned around and said, “Of course. What’s up?”

“I have a personal question to ask you.”

I instantly got the feeling of having done this the day before with Sherry. My mind instantly flashed an image of Roy under the influence of the tickets, but I quickly dispelled that idea from my head.

“Is there anything wrong?”

Roy looked around and pointed to a bench that was empty. We walked to the bench, and Roy said, “Your sister is going to have a birthday party in a few weeks.”

“Merry?” I asked. “Um, yeah. That’s right.”

“The cheerleaders want to do something special for her birthday, and they want to make sure that you are involved.”

“Of course,” I said, smiling. “Kristen and I threw her a nice party last year at the park.”

“I’ve been asked to see if we could throw her a party at your apartment.”

I was a bit surprised by the question. Why were the cheerleaders asking me through an intermediary—and why Roy?

The cheerleaders were known to go to parties on a regular basis, but aside from their initiations and special parties, they were usually pretty tame. Was Roy implying that Merry’s birthday party wouldn’t be tame?

“Like the Halloween party last year?” I asked, remembering the off-duty policemen Kristen had hired to ensure that the party wouldn’t be too rowdy.

“Yeah, like that,” Roy said.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, but I’ll run it by Lynnette and Kris when I see them.”

Roy smiled. “Thanks, Jim.”

“Oh, by the way, my own birthday is on Thursday. Kristen and Lynette have something special planned for me after school that day.”

Nodding, Roy said, “Yeah, I figured that.”

“I’m just telling you that because I may leave rehearsal early.”

“I think people will understand.”

I got up from the bench and shook Roy’s hand. “OK. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Roy’s expression changed for a fraction of a second before he said, “Yeah. Monday.”

June and Sherry were over by June’s car. They both smiled at me as I approached them.

“Hey, Oogie!” Sherry said.

“Hi, Sherry... June.”

June smiled. “Hey. Sherry’s mother gave her permission to stay with me over night tonight.”

“Oh?” I asked, pretending to be surprised.

“Would you mind if we use the Recovery Room tonight? Sherry’s never been in a water bed.”

The pronoun that June used made me uneasy. I turned to Sherry and asked, “Do you want to be with June tonight?”

Sherry shrugged and didn’t answer.

“I don’t see any problem if the two of you want to use the Recovery Room tonight. Of course, I’d have to ask Kris and Lynette...”

“They don’t mind!” June said, hurriedly.

This confirmed my suspicion. “Then I guess it’s a done deal.”

Sherry smiled and started to get into the passenger seat. Just as I was about to get in, I saw June’s eyes narrowing at me. I don’t think she expected me to accept the idea of Sherry spending the night so easily.

After I got into the car, I turned to Sherry in the back and nodded at her gym bag. “Is that your overnight stuff?”

“Yeah,” Sherry said, sounding a little bit nervous.

I decided to take it easy with Sherry. After all, she wasn’t completely under control of the reasons that she wanted to be with me today.

June started the car, and gave me another quick look before backing out of her parking spot and headed toward the house.

Well, since June wasn’t going to level with me about Sherry, I wasn’t going to let her know that I was in on the secret.

When we got to the apartment, I excused myself from the girls and instead headed for the main residence. Harry greeted me at the door.

“What’s up, Jim?”

“Are Charlie or Daniel in?”

“Mrs. Swift is in the living room. Should I announce you?”

“No need for formalities unless she’s entertaining.”

Harry smiled. “She has guests. She’s planning one of her charity events.”

“Could you let her know that I would like to borrow something?”

“May I tell her what you need?”

“A record.” I told Harry exactly which one and he shrugged and left me in the foyer as he went to tell Charlie my request.

In about a minute, Harry returned with the requested album.

“Thanks, Harry! Tell Charlie I thanked her, too!”

“Of course, Jim.”

I left the residence and got back to the apartment. I took the album into the music studio. I had some cassette tapes that I wanted to integrate into a recording and this record was going to help. To get the cassettes onto the open reel tapes meant that I was going to have to reverse the hookups between the cassette and the four track. I knew from experience that recording from tape to tape added noise, but I hoped that the added noise wouldn’t detract from my recording.

I knew that I was going to need a good saxophone player to help me with some of the instrumental parts. There was an instrumental bridge in the song that was mostly a duet between a saxophone and trombone. I could play both instruments all right, but between the two of them, I really preferred the trombone. Then there was also a heavy bass riff on the piece. I was lost in thought trying to figure out who was in the band that I could enlist in this duet. Despite the fact I could play both parts, there was a give and take that two live performers could do that really couldn’t be duplicated by recording the parts separate.

As I was thinking about these things, I looked up and saw the signal light blinking. I went over to the intercom and said, “Jim here. Who’s that knocking at my door?”

There was a chuckle over the intercom in response and I recognized June’s voice. “Twelve minutes, Jim!”

“Sorry, Baby,” I said, truly sorry that I hadn’t noticed how long the signal was flashing. “I was working on a difficult track.”

“Can I visit?” June asked.

I wanted to increase the pressure on June just slightly. “Alone?”

June’s response was delayed. I think she knew that I implied that she had ulterior motives, and the subject of those motives were Sherry, who she invited for the night.

“Um, yes. Of course.”

“Give me five minutes to finish this track up. The DND light will go off when I’m done.”

“Uh... sure. Thanks.”

I heard the intercom click off. I wondered if I was being unfair to June, who probably thought she was doing me a favor.

Of all my paramours, June and Lynette had no idea about the tickets. I wanted them both to remain that way because I didn’t know how they’d react to the tickets. In addition, I was pretty sure that June was never under the influence of the tickets, something that Kristen, Lynette, Camille, or Patty couldn’t say. This sort of made June special in my eyes.

That being said, however, June was still well aware about the danger that Sherry posed toward Kristen and me... and even Lynette. I expected June to have more allegiance to us than to so casually put Sherry in between us.

I put Charlie’s record and my tapes away. I had a lot of work to do on this particular song, and I was thinking of maybe getting a recording of it by my birthday. I already made up my mind that maudlin was out, remembering Lynette’s reaction to my recording of Sea of Love a week or so before. In addition, I wanted to put in a bit of humor to avoid any emotional overload that my recording might cause.

Thinking about a special recording also made me remember June using my equipment to record me when I admitted privately to her how much Lynette meant to me when I thought I had lost Lynette for good.

It was obvious that June wasn’t naive at all, and my actions regarding Sherry and her must have triggered some alarm in her head.

The moment I turned off the DND light, there was a soft knock at the door to the studio. I opened the door and invited June in.

“What’s up, Baby?” I asked.

June locked eyes with mine. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Oh?” I asked, feigning innocence.

After a few moments, June finally lowered her glaze. “You’re angry at me, aren’t you?”

“What gives you that idea?”

Again, June stared at me. After another few moments, she sighed. “I should have known at lunch, when you called me ‘Juicy.’”

I cocked my head at the lovely cheerleader. “I thought we had a relationship based on trust.”

Once again June lowered her eyes. “Sherry has become sort of a friend.”

“You can only have one friend in your life?”

June’s answer was a simple shake of her head.

“Do you think I’m angry at you, June?”

No answer.

I waited patiently for an answer, and repeated my question when it was clear that June wasn’t going to answer.

“I... I’m not sure. You aren’t happy.”

“Actually, I’m quite happy that Sherry is here.”

This surprised June considerably. “Huh?”

“Sherry became a friend to me a long time ago—even before you and I became friends.”

“I know...”

“I’m simply hurt that you asked Kristen and Lynette and didn’t bother asking me until Sherry was already with you with her overnight bag.”

June nodded and I turned around to sit on the bench for my keyboard setup.

June’s voice as quite soft as she said, “I’m sorry, Oogie. I didn’t consider your feelings.”

“Despite the fact that I don’t mind Sherry sleeping over—with you, not me!—you could have put me in a difficult situation if I didn’t want her here. Do you think I would say ‘no’ to her face? Was that what you were counting on?”

“I don’t know... No! That’s not true. It’s just that... I mean...”

I started playing the rundown of the song from Charlie’s album, working from memory. Despite the fact that I hadn’t played Charlie’s record, I didn’t think I was playing the rundown in the right key, so I stopped and played it a half stop down. That sounded closer, but without hearing the original song, all I could do is guess.

I idly wondered if I would be able to score this song for the jazz band instead of recording it myself. Unfortunately, it required a single vocalist and despite the fact that it was a great swing number, it was more of a feature song for a singer and a couple of musicians, not really a full band.

“Jim?”

“Huh?” I asked. I had gotten so engrossed in getting the rundown correct that I almost forgot June was with me. “I’m sorry.”

“I was saying... Lynette and Sherry are pretty close, but it seems like Kristen and you keep Sherry at arm’s distance. I know how she feels about you, but she assured me...”

The rundown was coming automatic to me. “June, at one time Sherry was probably the one person that could drive a wedge between Kristen and me. I have no intention of giving up Kristen despite how much I like Sherry.”

“But Sherry...”

“Let me finish, Baby,” I said softly. “As I said, she could have done so, but instead she helped Kristen and me get over a silly fight and Kris and I are much closer now thanks to Sherry. I think that when Sherry did that, she gave up trying to cause problems.”

“She says she is happy to be your friend.”

“I know that,” I said, stopping my playing now and softly pulling June to sit down next to me. June came along freely and we both shared the small padded bench. I pulled June even closer into a hug.

“I’m really sorry, Jim.”

“I know. For your information, Sherry was here yesterday afternoon. I figured that you’d try to get Sherry here today.”

This was a bit of a lie. As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t want June to even suspect anything about the tickets. I could have told June the truth: that Sherry told me. However, if June checked with Sherry later, I knew that Sherry wouldn’t have any memory of telling me about June’s invitation. This would lead to complicated questions.

“I’ll be honest with you from now on, Oogie.”

“That’s all I want, Baby.”

“What’s that song you were playing? It sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Are you familiar with 1950s swing music?”

June’s response was a grimace. “I don’t think so. Archy might be.”

I laughed. “I was thinking of recording this myself, but I’d need a few more instruments. I’ve decided that it’s not really a good number for the jazz band, either.”

“Oh.”

I played the rundown again. I saw June’s head start to nod with the beat.

June finally remarked, “It’s got what Archy calls a heavy back beat.”

“It’s a vamp... it’s a technique borrowed from jazz where you play the same chord progression continuously.”

“I think I got it. You did something like that with that fisherman song.”

The two of us laughed. “Yeah. That was a vamp with different players taking solos until Merry came on and sang the words.”

I ran the chord progression to a minor key and then did a segue to a real jazz number called Satin Doll, made famous by Duke Ellington. This was a song I liked to play on the trumpet, but I was reasonably competent playing it on the piano.

“I know that one,” June said, smiling.

“Satin Doll,” I said automatically.

“Are there words for that one?”

“Yeah, but I’m not familiar with them.” I did a repeat of the first verse and sang the part I knew.

“... Out cattin’ that Satin Doll...”

I continued playing the song again, and when it was clear that those were the only words of the song that I knew, June started to laugh.

“I like that middle part.”

“Yeah,” I said, continuing to play. “It’s kind of famous.”

“Is that swing, too?”

“Jazz. I heard Archy’s uncle play that song in Chicago once when I was younger.”

“Are you thinking of recording that song? Archy might like that one if his uncle performed it.”

I tried to figure the logistics for that song. Unlike the rundown I played before, this particular song was well suited for the jazz band. “Perhaps,” I said, smiling at my lovely friend. “Would Archy think that I’m trying to compare myself with his uncle?”

June seemed surprised that I’d even think that. “Of course not!”

I became aware of a knock on the door. Instinctively, I turned around and glared at the DND switch, but I saw that it was off. I forgot to turn it back on when June came in before.

June saw my reaction, and jumped off the bench and went to the door.

It was Sherry.

“I’m sorry, I was wondering when June would be coming out. I didn’t mean to interrupt...”

I shook my head. “That’s all right, Sherry. The DND light wasn’t on.”

“Oogie forgot to turn it on, but he wasn’t recording.”

I didn’t mention to June that I wasn’t always recording when that light was on, but I didn’t think it was pertinent.

“Want to come inside, Sherry?”

Sherry looked at June before she answered me. “Sure.”

With Sherry in the studio, June acted a bit different. “Can you play Girl From Ipanema for Sherry?”

I shrugged and immediately played the intro, using the same key that I had used when I played in Purdue.

Of course, this was a singing number, although I could also do it as an instrumental. However, I think I knew what was June’s intentions were.

Sherry had sounded a bit wistful when she heard that Kristen and I did a lounge act in Indiana, and I think June was going to give Sherry a taste of what I sounded like at the time.

The keyboard and guitars from the trip hadn’t been set up in the studio yet, although I had already hooked up one of the new amplifiers to the mini organ. Despite that, the truth of the matter was that I was most comfortable using the older equipment that was already set up.

I looked at the two girls from time to time as I sang the song. A lot of the time, Sherry had her eyes closed, almost as if she was imagining herself in that lounge during our performance.

At the end of the number, the two girls broke out in applause. I gave a tiny bow while still seated on my bench.

I moved my bench to where my electric piano was set up. “Could you guys give me a hand? I want to replace this keyboard with the one standing up on the side of the room over there.” I pointed to the new Yamaha keyboard, which had a voice I wanted for my next number.

The girls let me disconnect the wires from my old keyboard and pick it up before they took it and placed it next to the new one. Then they brought the new one over.

Of course, the new keyboard required a different power cord, and a special adapter to fit my old amplifier. However, I found that it was easy enough to simply use the connector for the mini organ.

I played a few notes and fiddled with the gain on the amplifier to get the right volume. Finally, I played the introduction to Elton John’s Crocodile Rock.

Both girls smiled as they recognized the famous song.

I remember when rock was young,

Me and Susie had so much fun.

Holding hands and skimming stones...

Had an old gold Chevy and a place of my own.

But the biggest kick I ever got,

Was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock.

While the other kids were Rocking Round the Clock

We were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock!

Well Crocodile Rocking is something shocking,

When your feet just can’t keep still.

I never knew me a better time

And I guess I never will.

Oh Lordy mama, those Friday nights!

When Susie wore her dresses tight,

And the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight...

As I was singing this, I remembered Kristen’s excellent bass accompaniment at Purdue. In my mind I could still hear her playing a near perfect walking bass line to the song.

June started laughing as I sang the “Nah-nah-nah” parts, breaking me out of my reverie, and which also broke Sherry up. Even I started to laugh and I ended the song.

“You have a great gift,” Sherry said, still giggling. “Your voice almost sounds just like Elton’s.”

June nodded her head in agreement.

I realized that this keyboard, with the setting that still had the masking tape marked “Eerie” would be perfect for a song that I had tried recording a couple of weeks earlier.

“Would you girls like to hear me accompany myself using the tape deck?”

Both girls’ faces lit up. “YEAH!” they said together.

“One second...”

I went to my tape drawer and it took me a couple of minutes to locate the one I started. I had some notes on paper that said cryptically “134 / X1 Vocal / X3 trumpet / 4 Piano.” This meant that I had three of the tracks recorded, but I wasn’t satisfied with tracks one (vocal) and three (a stupid attempt at using the trumpet to do a rundown, which didn’t fit at all).

I threaded the tape onto the open reel and patched my microphone to track one, and the Yamaha into track three.

As a test, I played a C-minor arpeggio on the highest end of the keyboard and found that the sound wasn’t perfect, but it was better than any other keyboard setting that I had tried in the past.

I turned to the girls and warned them to be quiet as I was going to be recording this particular song.

“Which song is this one?” Sherry asked.

“You’ll find out,” I said, grinning.

“Did you play this one at Purdue?” Sherry asked.

“No,” I admitted. “I think you’ll like it, anyway.”

Sherry nodded.

I turned on the tape and quickly got back to my bench.

The piano track played the intro, and I started singing:

As I walk along,

I wonder

What went wrong,

With our love,

A love that was so strong.

And as I still walk on,

I think of

The things we’ve done

Together, while our hearts were young.

I’m a-walkin’ in the rain,

Tears are fallin’ and I feel the pain.

Wishin’ you were here by me,

To end this misery!

And I wonder...

I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder,

Why?

Why, why, why, why, why

She ran away.

Yes, and I wonder,

Where she will stay-ay-ay,

My little runaway,

Run, run, run, run, runaway.

At this point in the song, I played the famous rundown on the new keyboard. It wasn’t a perfect match for the version on Del Shannon’s Runaway, but it sounded pretty good to my ears. It was much, much better than the stupid trumpet attempt I made earlier.

I sang the rest of the song, occasionally looking back at the two girls, who were looking at me in awe. I’ve seen this look from both girls at different times, but this was the first time I saw them share it together.

After I completed the song, I put my finger to my lips to let the girls know that they should be quiet so I could end the recording. It was a good thing, too: June looked as if she was about to clap!

I stopped the tape and rewound it. I subjected the two girls to a repeat as I listened to the two new parts with a critical ear, trying to pick out any imperfections. I was surprised when I found that my performance was pretty good; I didn’t flinch at all during the playback!

“That was great! You sounded like what’s his name?”

“Del Shannon,” I answered automatically.

“How do you do that? Change your voice like that?” June asked.

“You know Roy, right?”

Both girls nodded.

“I taught him how to read chorale music in junior high, and in return, he taught me how to sing better. I never liked hearing my own voice when I played back recordings, so he taught me what he knew of imitating other people’s singing styles. He’s a much better singer than I am—he can even imitate Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra.”

Sherry shrugged. “He doesn’t sing and play at the same time.”

“I didn’t play much on that particular recording,” I pointed out. “Just the rundown after the chorus.”

“And during the last chorus, too,” Sherry said. She wasn’t going to let me convince her that I wasn’t the greatest singer in the entire world.

I conceded the point to Sherry. I knew it was fruitless to argue with her (or anybody, for that matter) about my talents.

I was saved by the bell, though. Well, the flashing of the intercom light.

“Oogie Woogie here with my groupies,” I said, pushing the button on the intercom.

The two girls giggled.

There wasn’t an immediate response from the intercom. This was strange.

It took about a minute for somebody to answer.

“Fifteen minutes, Oogie,” Lynette said, breathlessly and giggling.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Over in the play room losing to Kristen.”

I knew what this meant, and I said, diplomatically. “Sherry and June are with me here in the studio. Maybe we could meet the two of you in a few minutes.”

As Lynette pushed the intercom button, I could hear Kristen’s golden laugh in the background. “Um, yeah. A couple of minutes would be fine.”

I turned off the intercom, chuckling to myself. I turned and saw June chuckling as well. Sherry looked confused.

“Lynette needs to get decent. You know how Kristen plays pool. She doesn’t gamble with money anymore.”

Sherry still had a blank look on her face.

“Kristen and Lynette play for higher stakes,” June suggested to Sherry.

Suddenly, the light dawned in Sherry’s eyes. She blushed wonderfully and June and I laughed with her.

We waited the requested couple of minutes before leaving the studio.