Suburban Vampire: Book of Origins

SAMUEL WILSON, also known as FATHER

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

1927

The trumpet player hit a high note as the crowds went wild. Men and woman of various races, black and white, danced the Charleston as the jazz orchestra played loud and fast. A tall, thin black man in a conservative suit and tie jumped up on the stage and approached the microphone as the wild music came to a close. "Ladies and gentlemen!" The man said, "how are you all doing tonight?" The question was met with loud cheers. "That's good to hear! That was King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band with a very special guest on the trumpet, you all know him! Put your hands together for Louis 'Satchmo' Armstrong! I would like to welcome you to the Big City Country Club, the hottest music club on the South Side! My name is Samuel Wilson, and I own this place! I hope that you all enjoy the music, the food, but not the alcohol – that would be illegal! Now, get ready to set that floor on fire with more jazz dancing!"

As the band started up again, Samuel stepped down from the stage and headed backstage, where he was met by a shorter, stockier black man. "Well, that was some fine speechifying," the other man said. "You had to mention 'alcohol', didn't you?"

"It was a joke, Elijah," Samuel said. "Nothing more."

"Uh huh, and if some G man was out there listening, what do you think he'd say?"

"Well, hopefully he'd laugh right along with the rest of them, and not be invited to the speakeasy that is currently beneath our feet."

"Yeah, the speakeasy, like this club, that you own. What the hell was that?"

"Relax, brother. It was another joke."

"Yeah, well, I didn't find it too funny."

Samuel stopped and faced his brother. "Look, Elijah. You have been on me about my lack of enjoyment of life. And, it is true, I have not enjoyed life much at all, certainly not since returning from the war."

"Hell, I know that. You ain't hardly smiled since then, since... well, you know."

"You can say it, Elijah. I am at a point where I have accepted what happened, although there is not a moment that goes by that I don't miss my Esther and the girls. But they are gone. It is time to live again, brother. Time to enjoy life."

"And how enjoyable is it? By which I mean, how's the liquor supply?"

"It is diminishing."

"What the hell does that mean? Can you put that in some kind of language your brother might understand?"

"It is dwindling. Decreasing. Running out."

"Okay, okay, I got it. Our stocks are low."

"Make that non-existent."

"Ah, shit, Sammy! When I heard that the Volstead act was gonna be law, I stockpiled all the booze I could! Now you say we're running dry?"

"We are dry, Elijah. Dry as a bone."

"Then what you smiling for?"

"We are doing well! For now, anyway. Look, Elijah, look at those crowds, blacks, whites, all kinds of people, they all flock here because we really are the most exciting and most accessible jazz club in Chicago! Look at the pull we have! This is the third night Louis Armstrong has played here. You don't get that kind of talent if you're some flash in the pan. People come for the music, Elijah, and the food. Real southern country soul cooking! Where else do you get that combination in all of Chi-Town?"