Chapter 1:
They say that being an adult means
doing things that you don’t want to do.
If such was the case then Cody Johnson was hardly an adult. At 25 years old he didn’t have much but he
enjoyed his life all the same. Playing
his guitar at night was as much a job as it was a joy for Cody, and while it
didn’t pay all the bills it helped bring in some cash doing something he loved.
To look at him a person would not
see something very extraordinary. Brown
hair cut kept short and brown eyes didn’t really set him apart from most
crowds. His casual and simple jeans on
shirts were nothing special either. He
was a average man of average height and weight that one could easily look over
because nothing stood out about him. His
choice of clothes were a pair of jeans, shirt, and a good set of shoes most
days and very rarely did he feel the need to dress up more than that. Not that he could really afford to.
With no family, Cody lived by
himself with his dog, a medium sized brown and white speckled mutt that he had
picked up at the pound and whom he named Bella.
With no one to help bring in an income he lived simply and fairly Spartan
which suited him just fine. His home was
a small apartment that was just big enough for him and his few meager possessions. His only real treasures were the guitar he
used to play and a notebook that belonged to his father, Andrew Johnson. The notebook was what he had written music in
and that Cody now added to.
His father had been a musician as
well. He worked as a janitor and night
guard for a museum as his day job, but gave guitar lessons during the
weekends. His mother had died when he
was young in a car accident leaving the two alone together. It wasn’t the easiest life but Andrew
provided for his son and taught him everything he needed.
“Learn how to handle your
instrument well,” his father would always tell him as he taught his son how to
play the guitar, “Learn it well and it can become the greatest thing you wield,
able to sway the hearts of tyrants and sadists, to pacify the most wrathful of
souls, and even ease the pain of those whose hearts have been torn by the cruelest
people and then cast aside into an ocean of despair.”
To Cody’s father the guitar wasn’t
just an instrument to play music. It was
an instrument to heal. The sounds that
came from his playing would fill a room and brighten up even the most down trodden
of people. He was often approached after
a performance by people thanking him for reminding them of some happy memory
they had long since forgotten and would sometimes ask him to come and play for
small functions for them later. People
who heard him play would always leave smiling feeling happier than they had
been before and when he would occasionally play a sad song even the most
hardened of people would turn away to shed a tear in silence.
Cody would often ask how he was
able to play so well and make people so happy and he would always say just
about the same thing.
“It’s just a matter of using what
you feel and connecting with others, son.
When you feel happy share that with people when you play and they’ll
remember the things that make them happy.
When you feel sad share that with people too. It’s from the pain that we learn and grow. Suffering and pain can be just as beautiful
as pleasure and comfort. Music is our
gift to the world and is something that every culture shares. You play a sad song in French and they’ll
still tear up in Taiwan.” He’d always
chuckle at his joke before he went back to doing whatever he was doing
before.
Andrew had been a good natured
man. Considerate, kind, compassionate,
and a loving father was how he was described by the priest who gave the eulogy
to his funeral when Cody had barely turned 19.
Another car accident killed his father one night as he was coming home
from his day job. It was a cruel
coincidence that left him without a family, but Cody stuck it out and didn’t
let the sadness of his loss drag him down for long. His father wouldn’t have wanted him to mourn
for any longer than was needed and that is what he did.
He sold the apartment the two had
shared for years and most of the things that he didn’t need. The car was the first thing to go, after all
that had happened to his parents he never wanted to drive a car unless he had
to. With the money it brought he was
able to rent out a small apartment in a good section of the city where he could
get around easily.
After that it was just a matter of
setting himself up and doing what he could to get by day to day. He found a job working with a construction
crew doing various odd jobs around sites and after he clocked out he would go
to random bars and restaurants to play for the people. While the tips varied from small to
substantial it never occurred to him to quit his day job to solely pursue his
music.
“Music should be about expressing
yourself and never about money. Once you
start to make music about money you start to sell what you are and you risk the
chance of losing that.” It seemed that
Andrew Johnson always had something to say about nearly everything and he often
spoke a lot to pass his wisdom onto his son.
It was with these thoughts that
Cody walked along the streets with his guitar bag hung over his shoulder and
carrying a small bag of food in his hand.
He had just gotten through playing a few hours for a new bar that had
popped up around his area and he had gotten a paid a fair amount along with a
free meal. The tips were also very
generous and he had gotten a lot of compliments from those around him.
He wasn’t surprised by what they
said. His father had been a great
guitarist and had taught him everything he knew and he used the guitar his father
had gotten him years ago to play his gigs.
His songs made people smile and the sounds of their applause brightened
up the evening no matter how dark and rainy it might have been.
Life was good for him and looking
up. As he unlocked the door to his small
home he thought about the gigs he had the rest of the week. It would earn him a good bit of money and
maybe he could splurge and take a vacation someplace. All in all as he sat down on his couch and
let his dog sit her head on his lap he was happy. Things were going well for him and as he
opened his to-go box and picked up his burger he thought that maybe he’d write
a new song about how a simple life could be the greatest life worth living.
“Yeah… a simple life suits us just
fine, right, Bella?” Cody scratched
behind her floppy ears as she looked up at him with those big brown eyes and
gave him a bark.
“Yeah, we might not have a lot but
we’ve got enough.” He chuckled and took
a bite of his burger thinking that there wasn’t anything bad that could come
his way that he couldn’t handle.
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