All She Ever Wanted Ch. 05

Howdy Hayes couldn't think of the word that described how he felt. But he knew it wasn't good. His insides were tied into knots, making him feel scrunched and small. He didn't like it one little bit.

It was about twenty minutes after four in the morning and he was sitting in Rita's All-Night Diner having his usual early breakfast before heading over to the radio station to relieve Gina, the night DJ, at five. He hadn't slept well the night before. Over and over he relived the painful end of Trevor's reception yesterday. They'd left him standing there, feeling like a fool.

And this was on top of the other worries he had to contend with. He knew the signs. Here he was stuck at a podunk independent station that was scrambling to stay on the air in a third class market. The big boys with their canned programming couldn't be far away. He could almost sense their cold breath on his neck.

It had taken him almost a year to find this job. A year that had nearly bled him dry. A year that had reduced his pride to tatters. He was fifty-one years old and he didn't know how many more times he'd have the chutzpah to start all over again. It got harder every time.

"More coffee?" Denise, the waitress assigned to his table, stood nearby with a coffee pot in her hand.

"Sure," he said. As she moved closer he reached out to put his hand on her behind. She grabbed his wrist and held his hand away from her body, while pouring his coffee. It was a game they played. He didn't know how she felt about the game and he didn't really care. He watched as she turned her back on him and walked away. For a moment the smooth motion of her hips made him forget his troubles. Sex was good for that. There was a certain kind of woman who was turned on by the fact that he was a voice in their radio. But Denise wasn't one of them.

He took a sip of his coffee. And then poked at his eggs with his fork. It was easy for some guys. Success just seemed to jump into their laps. Guys like Daniel Burnham and Trevor Trent. He'd had a taste of that ambrosia. Playing bass with The Winston Valley Boys when their single 'Sweet Evangeline' had cracked the top twenty. Those were heady days. Lots of booze, lots of women. But they'd fired him. Said he'd missed one too many gigs but he knew it was really because they'd wanted to give the spot to one of their buddies. He shoved his plate away, his face twisted with anger. For the next two years The Winston Valley Boys had had a string of top ten hits and they were still touring. While he'd drifted from one mediocre band to another. Damn! The thought of just how close he'd come still tore up his guts.

As he stood he snatched the check off the table, grabbed his jacket, and stalked to the cash register. He noted with a bitter smirk that Denise made a point of letting one of the other girls take his money. 'That's all right darlin',' he thought. 'No tips for you because you didn't earn one.' He stepped out into the cold darkness.

It was in Florida that he'd got into radio. That's where he'd become Howdy Hayes. Somehow changing his name changed his luck. For awhile. For a good long while, he had to admit. He used to do this Minnie Pearl thing when he came on and people ate it up. That was in the early 80's when Country music was all the rage following the release of the movie Urban Cowboy. Quasi Country, anyway.

He sat in his icy car for a minute after turning the key, waiting for some warmth. Piece of crap car. He'd had a Cadillac convertible in Florida. A sweet piece of machinery. The girls had loved that car and he'd loved the girls. But those days were gone.

For some reason he couldn't fathom, for the life of him, he thought of his mama. Jesus! That was a long time ago. He'd grown up in Missouri. The buckle of the bible belt, his older brother used to say. Lord how his mama used to go on and on about the healing power of God's love. She'd made him go to church until he was seventeen and in all that time he sure as hell hadn't seen any evidence of such a thing. To the contrary. To the contrary! As far as he could see people were just out for as much as they could get. And it didn't have much to do with God's love.

As much as they could get... Who did they think they were anyway? Guys like Daniel 'the pansy' Burnham. They weren't anything special. He'd seen so many of guys like him up close and personal and they were just like anyone else. Frigging frauds. It all came down to who you knew in this business. Like Trevor 'white trash' Trent. Everybody knew it was payola and the big boys with their canned programming that made hits. Trevor was just the pretty face on the package.

God he hated them. Humiliation. That was the word he'd been searching for. He'd felt humiliated. And sometime, somehow, he was going to make Daniel Burnham pay for making him feel like some kid who didn't get invited to the party. Oh yeah. Cut old four eyes down to size.

He put the car in gear and drove the few blocks to the radio station. When he unlocked the door and walked in he could see Gina in the studio. She had to have seen him enter but she didn't make any sign of welcome. Hoity toity bitch. He was nearly fifteen minutes early so he got a cup of coffee from the pot in the break room and sat at Judy's desk. He thought of watching Judy sit in this very chair. A couple of minutes before five Gina switched the sound of the broadcast into the house speakers and came out of the studio. An old George Strait song, "Marina Del Rey", was playing.

"Morning Howdy."

"Yeah." He looked at her. She wasn't his type at all. Way too big. And too old. He watched as she quickly got into her coat. It amused him to see that she bunched her keys in her hand like they were some kind of weapon before stepping outside. Fat chance that was going to stop anybody. Hell, her face would stop them first. And then she was gone. Good riddance.

He pushed into the studio and slid into the chair in front of the microphone. It was still warm from Gina's big butt. She was good for one thing anyway. He punched up the mic as the song ended. Howdy Hayes was on the air.

FROM HER DESK Judy Jenks could see Howdy Hayes in the studio although she looked in that direction as little as possible. He gave her the creeps. The problem was that he could see her too and sometimes she could almost feel his eyes on her, like insects crawling over her body.

Howdy, she'd observed, liked women half his age who looked a certain way. Unfortunately she fit the pattern. She really liked her breasts, for the most part, but whenever she was around Howdy she made a point of hiding them as much as she could. He had a way of looking at her front when he talked to her as if he owned them and had a perfect right.

"Hello gorgeous," someone said, breaking up her thoughts.

"Hi Michael," she said, turning to smile at him as he closed the front door. "Wow, it's that time already?" She added, glancing at the clock. Almost time for Howdy's shift to end.

Michael D was another kind of man entirely. He was light and flirtatious and very married. But, even though he really wasn't her type, he made her feel good. Unlike Howdy who rubbed against her ego like a piece of coarse sandpaper.

"Well, you know how it flies," Michael said. "Though I don't imagine you've been having too much fun." He gave Howdy a broad smile and cheerful wave, that she could see was quite false, through the thick glass. Not that Howdy would notice.

Michael's wife Heather also fit the pattern so Judy figured she'd given Michael the low-down on his colleague's treatment of women. A Brad Paisley song came through the house speakers.

"I guess it's showtime." Michael said.

Judy pulled her loose vest across her front, hunching down slightly, as Howdy and Michael changed places.

"Hey beautiful," Howdy said, his voice smooth.

"Hi."

"What did you think of the big to-do yesterday?" He asked. "Having those two famous guys right here in this room?"

"I liked it," she said. "My friends are jealous because I got to shake hands with Trevor Trent."

"Well, don't let to go to your head, darlin'," he said. "Neither of them is anything special. Even if they are raking in the dough."

"I feel sorry for Daniel. It's so sad about his wife."

"I have to tell you I'm a little sick of the sensitive artist routine by now," Howdy said. "It seems to me that he's just milking it for all he can get at this point. But did you see the dumpy chiquita he's hanging out with now?"

Judy, who'd focused primarily on Trevor, had to put some effort into a hazy recollection of Melissa. "Yeah, I saw her." The realization that Daniel might be making a lot of money took a little longer to sink in. "You mean, Daniel's rich now?"

"Hell yeah," Howdy said, picking up on Judy's naivete. "He's got a number one song. And long after Trevor Trent's just another has-been Daniel's going to be raking in the bucks. Right now Trevor's busting his butt trying to pay off the advance on his recording contract." The phone rang and while Judy was answering it Howdy plucked his coat off the rack and, with an abrupt wave, headed out the door. But, after hanging up, Judy stared at the wall in front of her and put a good deal of thought into what Howdy had said about Daniel. A man who was single, and rich, after all.