The Trumpet Player | Teen Ink

The Trumpet Player

September 10, 2013
By MrWasabhihead2 BRONZE, Los Angeles, California
MrWasabhihead2 BRONZE, Los Angeles, California
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The highest purpose of fiction is to show that all people are fundamentally worthy of mercy."


Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, he put on the fake smile that he knew too well.

He pushed the door open and walked into the club. Almost immediately, a Hispanic man holding a guitar walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” he said.

“Can’t complain!” Adam said with mock enthusiasm.

Adam went up to the stage, put down his case, and pulled out his trumpet. As he warmed up, his mind drifted. Like he often did, he focused on the bad things in his life, as much as he tried not to think about the depressing lack of cash in his pocket and food in his kitchen. Well, he thought, that would imply that there were good things.

People slowly shuffled into the club. At its best, the restaurant was only half full. The music started, and Adam began playing absentmindedly. He had been playing the same jazz standards over and over for several years now.

He began to focus on how he was going to pay the rent. Not this month’s. Last month’s. This gig would give him two hundred. That was barely enough to buy food for the next couple weeks.

He stood up for his solo, but his mind was still miles away.

Given the chance, he would trade his entire life away for…well, just about anything. Something exciting. Something out of the ordinary. Something where he didn’t do the same thing every damn night after night after night.

Anything else.

His solo was over. He sat down. He didn’t know how good it was. He wasn’t even listening.




It was 1:17 A.M. Adam packed up his trumpet and went into the manager’s office. He passed the Hispanic man in the hallway, who flashed a check in his face.

Adam knocked on the door.

“Yes?” came the voice from inside.

“It’s Adam,” he said.

“Oh, yes, come in.”

Adam opened the door and within seconds started choking. He waved the smoke away from his burning nostrils.

The manager sat in a chair that barely held him up. He was a large—very large—balding middle-aged man. He chomped down on a cigar. His shirt and overalls looked as if they were about to burst.

“Here’s tonight’s pay,” he said, handing Adam an envelope. “Good job out there.”

“Thanks,” Adam said weakly. He looked inside the envelope and pulled out a check.

“What?! Only a hundred fifty?!” Suddenly he sprang to life. His fake smile dropped away from his face. “I was promised two hundred for this gig!”

“Take it or leave it,” the fat man growled.

Adam groaned, stuffed the check in his pocket and walked out the door.

His legs were killing him; he would’ve loved to take a taxi home, but he knew he couldn’t afford it. So he walked. All the way across the city.

Even at two in the morning, the metropolis that was New York City bustled with life. Cars sped by in the streets, every other one a cab. People shoved their way down the sidewalk, hurrying to wherever they were going.

Adam stopped by an ATM. He tried to withdraw a hundred for the rent, but he had “Insufficient Funds.” He kicked the machine and shuffled home, dejected.

As he climbed the stairs to his third story apartment, he thought about his life ten years ago. He was happy then. He had a steady job, a nice house, a wife who loved him. Where did all those things go? Where did it all go so wrong? When did life get so dull and gray?

He looked up and saw his door slightly ajar. Alarmed, he held his trumpet case over his head, ready to bring it down on the head of whoever was unlucky enough to be in his living room. As he got closer to his door, he heard crying from inside. Puzzled, he pushed his door open, case at the ready.

He found his ex-wife sobbing, her head down on his kitchen table. He had a strange feeling in his gut, one he didn’t recognize.

He put his case down, and his confusion quickly turned to anger.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?!” he shouted.

Kate looked up at him. Her eyes were wet, her cheeks were stained with dirt, and her forehead was bloody.

Even through the dirt and blood, she was stunningly gorgeous. Adam remembered one of the reasons why he married her.

He also remembered why he broke up with her. She was clinically insane.

Adam closed the door and sat down at the table across from her.

“What’s going on?” he asked plainly.

“I…I’m in trouble,” she sobbed.

“I can see that. What happened?” He picked up a towel and gave it to her. She pressed it against her forehead.

“I accidentally saw some members of the mob killing a cop, and now they want me dead.” She started crying again. “I…I didn’t know where to go, so I just came…here.”

“Okay, just calm down.” He had no way of knowing whether or not she was telling the truth. For all he knew, she could have tried to mug someone and gotten a face full of fist as a result.

“Can you…please drive me to the train station? I need to get out of town, and I need someone to come with me,” she said.

“I don’t have a car.”

“We can take mine. You can have it after I leave.”

She knew him too well. It couldn’t hurt to drive her to the station. It’s not like he would’ve gotten any sleep anyways. Besides, he would get a car out of it.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said begrudgingly.

They walked out of the building and into the garage.




It wasn’t a particularly nice car, but it was a car nonetheless.

The two of them drove down the somewhat empty city street. They didn’t talk at first; each was alone with their thoughts. The sound of the engine sputtering and roaring filled the car.

“So, uh, how’s it going?” Adam said. He wanted to break the silence, but he regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“‘How’s it going?’” Kate repeated incredulously. “Not too well, Adam.”

“Yeah, sorry, that was dumb,” he said, resolving to shut up.

She laughed. “Yeah, kinda. What about you, though? How’s your life?”

“Not exactly where I hoped I’d be.”

“You’re still playing music, right?”

“Well, yeah, I guess,” he said. “I’ve got a steady gig at this run-down old club playing the same songs every night that doesn’t pay nearly enough, so if you consider that playing music, then yeah, I am.”

She chuckled again. Despite hating her guts, Adam still loved hearing her laugh. “I guess neither of us are where we hoped we’d be,” Kate said, a big, dumb smile on her face. Adam smiled too. He couldn’t help himself.

He thought about where it all went wrong. He got stupid. He bet everything on the racetrack, on sports games, on poker. And he lost it all. Every dollar. Gone.

So he had to start over. And he did. So far, it wasn’t going too well.

They pulled into the train station parking lot.

“Oh, crap,” she whispered and ducked down. “If they ask, I was never here!”

“What’re you talking about?” Adam asked. He looked around and saw two muscular men in suit jackets walking across the lot towards the car.

“Who, the—” He looked back, but she was gone.

He heard a tapping on the window, and one of the men was aiming a gun at him.

“Outta the car!” he shouted.

Adam got out of the car, his hands in the air.

“Okay, guys, no need to do anything rash,” he said calmly.

“Shut up!” the other man shouted. “Was there a woman in the car with you?”

“Uhh…no,” he said. “No, there wasn’t.”

The two men looked at each other, holstered their guns and walked away.

Adam exhaled, got back into his car, and pulled into a space. He looked to the side and nearly jumped out of his seat. Kate was back in the passenger seat.

“Jesus Christ!” he shouted. “How did you do that?”

She ignored the question. “What did you tell them?”

“That I didn’t know who you were. Who were they?”

“The mob, I told you!”

“Right, right.” So she was telling the truth after all.

The two of them got out of the car. Adam took her bag out of the trunk, and they began to walk towards the station.

They heard shouting. “Hey, stop!”

They turned, and the two men were running after them, guns drawn. Adam dropped the bag, and the two of them started to run, ducking their heads as they weaved in between cars. Bullets bounced off the cars around them, and riddled his new car with holes.

“Dammit! My car!” Adam whispered.

“Keep going!” she said. They ran into the station.

The inside was gorgeous. The ceiling was made of a stunning blue marble, and the floor was layered with black tile. Painted designs made their way across the whole room, filling it with an ocean of color. If he wasn’t being chased by gunmen, Adam would have stopped and marveled at the beautiful artwork.

But now wasn’t the time for admiration. Now was the time for running like hell.

Dodging what few people were in the hall, they made for the railway tracks. The men chased after, firing whenever they got a target.

Adam ran into a corridor and stopped.

“What the hell are you doing?!?” she shouted.

“I got this!” Adam cried back. He grabbed the giant double doors and forced them closed, locking them. “That’ll slow them down.”

As Adam himself slowed down, the blood rushed to his head, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears. The two of them kept running.

Eventually, they made it out to the tracks. Luckily, the train was waiting there for them. It seemed God wanted them to live through the night after all.

She boarded onto the long passenger train, but stopped and turned around with a worried look in her eyes.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“No.” He was surprised at his answer.

“You can’t stay here! They’ll kill you!”

“I can’t just up and leave! I have a life here!”

“Do you really? A life that you want?”

“I…no, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Because…when we lost all our money, it was completely my fault. I screwed up. It was my responsibility. I had to start over. A new life. Hopefully one that I could get right. If I leave with you…I’m running away. I’m giving up, and…I can’t do that.”

There was a pause. The air was heavy and smelled of smog. They stared into each other’s eyes.

Suddenly she stepped down and kissed him. He kissed her back. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he just did. It felt…right. Good. That was something Adam hadn’t felt in a long time.

A bullet ricocheted off of the train next to them.

“Okay, let’s go,” Adam said, pushing her into the car and closing the door.

“All aboard!” came the conductor’s voice. The train started to move.

The only thing the two Mafia men could do was shout at the passing train.

Adam and Kate sunk into two chairs opposite one another. And then they started laughing. A lot. Uncontrollably.

Then he remembered another reason why he married her. Anything and everything turned into a good time with her around.

They looked around. As expected, there was no one on the train. Actually, Adam thought, it was sort of surprising that the trains ran this late at night. Or this early in the morning, depending on how you looked at it.

“Okay,” Adam said. “So, I’m going to get off at the next station, and head back to town. Are you okay the rest of the way?”

“Wait, you can’t go back! They’re looking for you. They’ll find you and kill you!”

She had a point. “But I told you, I can’t just leave!”

“Adam, part of being a man is knowing when to give up.”

Silence. He let her words sink in. They echoed around in his brain. After a while, he wasn’t even sure what the meant anymore. Just that they were right.

“What about my stuff? My money? My trumpet?”

“I’ll buy you another trumpet, and you can get another job.”

“Where are we going, anyways?”

“Philly.”

Hm. He always had liked Philly. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He lay back in his chair and closed his eyes. They were safe on the train. He decided to get some of that sleep.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” she said. “Here’s your ticket.” She handed him a strip of paper.

“Wait, when’d you get these?” he asked.

“Yesterday,” she said as she walked away. Adam was a bit confused, but he drifted into slumber anyway. He couldn’t help himself.

He dreamt that he was a world famous musician. He was a household name, his career was beyond illustrious, and he was rich beyond his wildest dreams. More importantly, though, he was married to Kate again. Everything was perfect. It was the second time tonight that he had felt happy.

He was playing a concert at the Hollywood Bowl. He had just gotten into a roaring solo when the fat manager from the club waddled his way onstage.

“Hey, Adam!” he barked. “You’re nothing but a miserable failure, and you know it!”

Suddenly the world went black, and he was falling. He reached back, but there was nothing to catch. The fat man was still there, taunting him. His every word filled Adam’s head and bounced around on the inside of his brain.

“You’re a failure, Adam. You’re a failure. Failure. Ticket please.”

“What?” Adam asked.

“Your ticket, sir,” came another voice.

Adam shook himself awake. A train conductor wearing a blue uniform was holding out his hand. He had a hole puncher in the other.

He wondered how long he had been asleep. Judging by the fact that Kate wasn’t back yet, it had only been a few minutes.

“Your ticket, please. I don’t have all night.”

“Why not,” Adam muttered. “It’s not like you have anyone else’s ticket to take.” He pulled out his ticket and handed it to the conductor, who punched his ticket stiffly and gave it back.

As the conductor walked away, he ran into Kate as she was coming out of the bathroom. She gave him her ticket, which he punched.

And then Adam was jerked awake. He saw the butt of a pistol sticking out of the back of the conductor’s pants. He hadn’t been on many trains in his life, but he knew that conductors weren’t usually armed.

As she sat down, Adam whispered, “Let me ask you something. Don’t you think it’s weird that this train runs at this time?”

“Not really--”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re the only people on this train?”

“A little, but it is three in the morning--”

“And what about the fact that that conductor is carrying a gun?”

“He’s what?!” Alarmed, she turned around.

“Shh, shh. This whole train is a trap. What did you do to the mob?”

“I told you! I saw them killing a cop!”

Bull. They wouldn’t go through all this trouble for that. Right? She was lying. But that wasn’t important right now.

“Okay. We need to…I don’t know what. I guess head to the back of the train. I got it. If we can separate the cars, we can make our escape.”

“Good—good plan.”

They slowly got up, and, with Adam in the lead, made their way to the back of the train.

They walked cautiously through the car, past all the empty seats, into the next car. And they walked carefully through that car. And the next one.

When they got to the dining car, they saw a man in a suit reading a newspaper and sipping on a cup of coffee. He was wearing a bowler hat.

They stared at him as they passed by. He looked up, and they quickly averted their gazes. He shrugged and went back to his paper.

Adam breathed out in relief. They continued their journey towards the last car.

As they were passing through the mostly empty luggage car, a gunshot rang out. They hit the floor, but nothing else happened.

They got up and looked around. The car was empty, and there was no bullet anywhere. Adam realized it was just the train car itself, hitting a bump in the track and rattling.

Get it together, he thought. It’s just your imagination playing tricks on you.

They opened the door to the last car. But as Kate stepped through, there was a loud “bang,” and sparks exploded off the wall next to Adam.

This time, it wasn’t just Adam’s imagination.

Instinctively, Adam pushed her through the doorway, and slammed the door shut in front of him.

“Don’t move!” came a voice from the other side of the car.

“Adam!” Kate shouted through the window.

“Go!” he replied, and he pulled the emergency release switch.

The car detached itself from the rest of the train and skidded to a halt.

Adam felt the barrel of a pistol in his back.

“You move a muscle,” came the voice, “and we blow your goddamn guts out.”

Adam turned, and the conductor and the man with the hat took him away.




He woke in a chair in an empty, dull, square room. The walls were as ugly and monotonous a gray as possible. There was another chair across from him.

The last thing he remembered was the train stopping and the two goons taking him into a car that was waiting by the side of the railroad tracks. Then something hit him and he blacked out.

He grabbed his aching head. When he pulled his hand away, it was coated with dried blood.

A door swung open out of the wall, and in walked…the fat man?

No, that was just fatigue. It was a different fat man. On closer observation, he realized, it wasn’t fat; it was all muscle. This man was bald and wore workout clothes. He held himself like he was in charge, which he probably was. He was flanked by two men in fedoras and suits, no doubt armed.

The fat man sat down in the empty chair. They stared at each other for a good couple minutes.

Then the fat man spoke. “Do you know who I am?” He had a slight Russian accent.

“No.”

“Good. If you did, I would not be doing my job very well.”

“Where am I?”

“All in good time, my friend.”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Clearly. You helped one of my most powerful adversaries escape.”

“Adver—who?”

“Your little girlfriend.”

“Powerful? All she did was see you guys kill a cop! You probably do that twenty times before breakfast!”

The fat man uttered a deep, hearty laugh. It seemed to fill the room, since nothing else did. “Is that what she told you?”

Adam didn’t say anything.

“What’s your name?” the fat man asked.

“Adam.”

“Well, Adam, that is a lie. How do you know her?”

“She’s my ex-wife.”

He looked surprise. “Oh. Well you are a lucky man.”

“Was.”

“Hm. She did not see us commit a murder. She helped us commit many.”

Adam was stunned. “What?”

“She was one of us. One of my top lieutenants.”

“Why was she running from you then?”

“Because she had…a change of heart. She was going to turn us over to the FBI. But she made the mistake of telling a fellow criminal, who came and told me.”

Adam looked away. Did he believe this man? No. But it made more sense than what she told him.

“Why am I here?” Adam asked.

“Where is she?” the fat man replied.

“How should I know?”

“Surely she told you something. Where was she going?”

Adam didn’t say anything.

“You tell me, and I let you go now. If not…we’re going to have problems. And by we, I mean you, of course.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t betray Kate like that. Not after…her leaving him. Her barging into his house unannounced and dragging his life down into this ocean of chaos. True, he wanted more excitement, but this wasn’t what he meant. This wasn’t his fault. This wasn’t even his business! He wasn’t going to sit here and suffer for someone who didn’t even love him anymore! Someone who probably just kissed him to get what she wanted! Screw her! He would never even see her again.

“Philly,” he whispered, avoiding eye contact.

“One more time?”

“Philadelphia, you sonuva—”

“Thank you, Adam. Let him go.”

Adam got up and followed the two men out the door. They were in a warehouse in the city, but Adam wasn’t even paying attention.

The moon still watched over the sleeping city, guarding its residents from nightmares and villains. Its gaze missed Adam that night.

He walked all the way home. This time he didn’t even notice the soreness of his legs. His whole body was numb. His mind was far away. His stare was distant.

As he climbed the stairs to his apartment, he saw Kate running down the hall. He perked up, but he realized it was just his neighbor, chasing after her dog.

In an instant his remorse turned to anger, and he was filled with rage.

He slammed his door shut behind him and flipped the table over. He grabbed his bookshelf and threw it to the ground. He picked up his trumpet case and sent it flying into the television. All of his vases and glasses and plates went crashing against the floor. He grabbed a picture frame and slammed it against the wall.

Then he started crying. He dropped to his knees and sobbed. And as the sun came up over the city, he remembered that he didn’t even get the car.

For the third time that night, though, he was happy.



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