Jamie had always been the kind of person who started the day with flair and... well, also a little clumsy. He was the kind of person who knew what he was doing very well, but sometimes he wasn't fully present while doing it. This morning, the calendar hanging in his kitchen—one with landscape photos of Iceland he'd never been to—reminded him that he had an important gig at the local theater. Supposedly, a celebrity was going to be there. Or so one of the guys in the band said, though Jamie wasn't sure if it was true or just to apply pressure. The fact was, there was no room for error. But with Jamie, the margin wasn't so clear-cut.
He woke up late. Not so late that he panicked, but late enough that he had to hurry without breakfast. He put on his clothes halfway from memory, grabbed his guitar and the music folder, and went downstairs, feeling like he was forgetting something. As always. A neighbor said something strange to him, something like, "Today's your big day," as he closed his door. Jamie just smiled, unwilling to answer. He called a taxi. He was tired of being late waiting for the bus. He loaded his guitar and music into the trunk of the car and got in. The driver didn't say much, which was appreciated when you were mentally reviewing what you had to do. Jamie only managed to say, "To the theater, please," and stared out the window as if the cityscape could clear his head.
Everything was fine, until he got out of the taxi. He did so with the same haste with which he had gotten up, and of course, he didn't notice that the trunk was still closed with his things inside. He entered the theater and the first thing he saw were the faces. Some were half-concerned, others were simply waiting. Someone asked, in a tone somewhere between incredulous and annoyed, "Where's your guitar, Jamie?"
And that's when the world stopped. Or so it seemed. Because it wasn't just an instrument; it was his guitar. His only copy of the sheet music, too. His heart sank as if he'd suddenly realized he'd left the house without pants. He tried to think. Had he left it at home? No. In the taxi? Yes. In the trunk. Great. He called the agency. They told him the driver had already finished his shift. That the car was at the base. As if that would help. They told him the address, but it sounded so far away, like he was in another city. Then a friend of the band showed up. One of those guys who show up when everything's halfway down, not with pep talks, but with a motorcycle and a helmet.
He offered him a ride. Jamie didn't think much of it. Getting on a motorcycle when you're nervous isn't ideal, but it was either that or sitting idly by while the minutes slipped away. The truth is, the ride was a kind of punishment. The traffic, the endless lights, the feeling that the entire universe was conspiring to make him late. And all the while, his mind was wandering: "Why didn't you check? Did you really think today was going to be any different?"
They arrived at the base. He ran downstairs, asked about his car, and luckily, the guy at the front desk was quick. Everything was there. His guitar, his folder. In one piece. As if nothing had happened. Jamie breathed, though his body was still tense. They returned on the motorcycle. They didn't speak. Just the sound of the engine and the invisible ticking of the clock. When they arrived at the theater, Jamie walked in as if he didn't want to make a sound, even though everyone already knew what had happened. He said nothing. He took his place, tuned up, settled in, and waited. The concert began. And it went well. As if nothing had happened before. The notes sounded where they were supposed to, the band settled in, and the audience... well, the audience had no idea what had happened. They just listened.
Afterward, backstage, when everything had calmed down, a few laughs could be heard. Not jeers, just that collective relief that comes when something miraculously goes right. Jamie didn't make any dramatic comments. Nor did he feel he'd learned a transcendental lesson. He just thought, "Next time I'll check the trunk twice."
Credits: The images used are free to use and royalty free. They were taken from pixabay.