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    Strong Hawk
    Strong Hawk
    Strong Hawk
    Ebook170 pages2 hours

    Strong Hawk

    By Gary Henicke

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Michael Turner is about to have a chance of a lifetime.

     

    Suddenly, Michael is living the dream only few people can imagine. A rock star life complete with a gorgeous girlfriend. Will tragedy destroy Michael's dream and his future?

     

    Buy Strong Hawk and find out.

     

    I rarely read books. I had a hard time putting it down.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGary Henicke
    Release dateMar 14, 2013
    ISBN9781497787056
    Strong Hawk
    Author

    Gary Henicke

    I specialize in writing realistic fiction; both historical and contemporary. I often get my ideas for stories from dreams. Some of my favorite authors are Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, H.G. Wells, John Steinbeck, Rod Serling, Richard Matheson (Twighlight Zone and I am Legend), and Earl Hamner (best known for "The Waltons"). In these times of mega novel series I think it's important to value the short stories, novelettes and novellas. A great story doesn't have to be the size of an unabridged dictionary.

    Read more from Gary Henicke

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      Book preview

      Strong Hawk - Gary Henicke

      Strong Hawk:

      A Rock Band Summer Dream

      Gary Henicke

      Text Copyright © 2013 Gary Henicke

      All rights reserved. Strong Hawk: A Rock Band Summer Dream is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

      Gary Henicke

      gary@henickebooks.com

      For Gena Turner; a childhood friend whose life was cut short by a senseless act.

      Strong Hawk is a story set in the 1980’s. The reader should be aware that in those days people used cassette tapes and VCRs. Almost no one had a cell phone so if you needed to contact a friend you called them on a land line or you went to their home or apartment. Texting and emails were nonexistent. On the music scene the MTV channel only showed music videos. Benefit concerts for hunger relief were very popular.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 1

      I had the same dream again for at least the fourth time this year. I’m onstage playing in a rock band. I recognize my cousin, Keith, but I don’t know the other guys with me. We’re playing in front of a crowd of at least two hundred people. I notice a pretty girl right in front of the stage. She keeps smiling and waving at me. In the dream I know she’s my girlfriend.

      A truck with loud mufflers awakened me and I realized I had fallen asleep in the back seat of my parents’ car. We were now on the freeway from San Antonio to visit my aunt and uncle in Austin. This time Keith, my favorite cousin, would be there since the spring semester of college was over.

      I sat in the backseat of my parents’ car and gazed at the highway’s slotted dividing line. My eyes tried to follow each line as it slipped by.

      Since Keith would be there I would not have to listen to boring talk of weather and physical ailments around my Aunt Marion’s coffee table. I also would not have to sit there and wait to field the two questions my aunt and uncle would ask, How did you like your first year of college? and, Are you going to get a job for the summer?

      It had been a year since I had seen Keith.  He and I were only a year apart and had pretty much grown up together. This was just before he went to New Mexico to go to college. I was anxious to see my cousin because he played lead guitar in a rock band back in New Mexico. From what I had heard the band was supposed to be pretty popular.

      I had bought an electric guitar about a year ago and was very interested in anything having to do with the guitar. I was excited to find out from Keith what it was like to be in a band.

      I turned my attention from the road to my parents. For some reason I got a real kick out of just watching them. My mother sat there with her eyes forward, hardly even glancing at the scenery. My father, on the other hand, seemed to have his eyes everywhere but the road. This was probably why my mother couldn’t risk looking at the scenery.

      When we pulled into the driveway, Uncle Billy was already waiting for us as he always does. He always comes out and sits in a lawn chair until his guests arrived. Uncle Billy had to do this ritual so that nobody would park directly behind his precious Cadillac like my father made the mistake of doing three years ago. My father nearly gave his brother a heart attack when he pretended to start to park behind the Cadillac. Uncle Billy started waving his arms wildly and pointed to the exact spot he wanted us to park. A great sigh of relief came over Billy when my father moved the car back to the other side of the driveway.

      As was customary, Billy kept my father outside while my mother and I were told to go on inside the house. Uncle Billy did this to inspect my father’s car and inform him of every scratch and imperfection he found. Uncle Billy will then turn to his precious Cadillac and tell about the time, some nut took a key and made a scratch on the fender some six or seven years ago. When my father was finally allowed inside, Uncle Billy would always enter the room bragging to him about how his car had never been in the repair shop. The routine was always the same.

      We all proceeded to the living room after everyone said hello to each other. My cousin Keith and I sat there listening to our parents complain about how every city but theirs was getting rainfall. As anticipated, Aunt Marion asked me how I liked college and Uncle Billy asked me about my summer job plans. Fortunately, Keith saved me from fielding these two intelligent and original questions by inviting me to see his new guitar. We quickly left the room while my father tried to explain to his brother that I had just finished the semester and had not had the chance to look for work.

      I breathed a sigh of relief as Keith shut the door to what was his old room.

      Thanks for getting me out of there, I said. Another five minutes and I would have died of boredom.

      Keith smiled and nodded. Keith had let his hair grow past his shoulders he certainly looked like somebody who plays lead guitar in a rock band.

      Keith’s room was like heaven compared to back in the living room. My eyes immediately focused on Keith’s guitars.

      The black one is my new one. That thing cost me $1100, and that was a really good deal.

      I was in awe. The guitar I had bought a year ago was a ninety dollar piece of junk.

      Keith waved his hand in front of my zombie-like face.

      Do you still play the guitar, Mike?

      Uh, yeah, but I’m not very good, I shamefully admitted.

      Well, then I’ll teach you some stuff. Keith held back a laugh. Unless you want to sit around and listen to our parents talk to each other.

      I quickly shook my head.

      No way man, you ain’t getting me back in that living room.

      Keith handed me his old guitar. In five minutes I learned two songs from the Rolling Stones. In an hour, I learned several more popular songs that were currently being played on the radio stations. Keith and I decided to take a break.

      I don’t understand. How do you know all those songs? I asked.  Some of them have just come out.

      It’s just a matter of experience and developing an ear for music. In other words, being able to translate what you hear on the radio, or in your head, onto the guitar.

      I nodded in agreement.

      That’s my problem. Sometimes I get these tunes in my head and I can’t work them out on my guitar. I decided that now was a good time to ask Keith a question that I had been dying to know. So what’s it like being in a band?

      Fun. Excitement. The applause gives you such a feeling. Keith leaned back in his chair and smiled at the ceiling. Beautiful women admiring you. Course, there’s the money aspect too.

      You’re lucky, I said in fun. You mean you get paid good money to have pretty women gawk at you?

      Keith sat back up. "Well, our job is to entertain and we give the crowd our best. I mean you try jumping around playing lead guitar for a few hours and you’ll see how hard it really is. All that other stuff is sort of a fringe benefit.

      That night Keith took me to a nightclub he used to play guitar at when he was in high school. The manager quickly came over to greet Keith and personally seated us. It seemed like everyone in the club came by the table to say hello to Keith. It was like he was a celebrity.

      A local band was playing on the small stage across the dance floor from our table. Keith had played in a band with the bass player. He explained to me how the guitarist performed each trick and sound effect that he did. I began to understand the techniques and could not wait to try them out on the guitar. Later, Keith talked with the band members during their break.

      After we left the nightclub, Keith showed me the other clubs he played in and where his old girlfriends lived.

      Before we called it a night, Keith promised me that he would teach me all the chords necessary to play and create my own songs before our visit was over.

      <><><><>

      The next day Keith decided to give me a crash course in reading sheet music. I had been trying to understand the sheet music I had bought, but was not having much luck. We were just getting started when Uncle Billy burst into the room.

      Hey, we’re going to the nursery to get some plants. Why don’t you boys come with us?

      That’s alright, Dad. I’m gonna take Michael to some music stores to look for sheet music.

      Alright, suit yourselves. Uncle Billy looked at Keith with disgust. He took out his wallet and handed him a twenty. Why don’t you go get a real hair cut, or get a skirt?

      I love you too, Dad, Keith said as he handed the twenty back to his father.

      Keith and I went to some music stores to look for sheet music. We returned with several books. Keith set up music class in his old room.

      Keith explained to me what everything on the sheet music meant. He also translated the sheet music into chord diagrams that I found much easier to understand. Next, my cousin showed me the various methods of strumming a chord.

      By evening, my head was completely full of chords, notes, and just about everything having to do with playing the guitar.

      I slid out of the chair and onto the floor. I was exhausted.

      I hope you don’t expect me to remember everything you taught me, I said.

      Nah, just practice the diagrams I drew for you and buy the songs you want to learn.

      So I can develop my ear?

      Right. Listen to the chords over and over till you get it in your head and then hum each chord or note as you try to find it on the guitar.

      I sat up off the floor suddenly.

      "All this time I’ve been here and you’ve been teaching me to play. I want to hear you play."

      Keith plugged his new guitar into the small amplifier he kept in the closet. He grabbed some headphones and handed them to me.

      I hear our parents out there in the living room. No use busting their eardrums.

      Keith played a couple of songs that I quickly recognized. I watched in total amazement as Keith ripped through the solos without a mistake. He was definitely a professional musician. It was like listening to the radio. Before I could compliment his playing, Keith played a song that his band had just written. It made me speechless. Although I would not admit it to anyone; I thought I was fairly good at playing the guitar. Compared to Keith, I was nothing.

      Man I’d like to hear your band. I bet you guys can really jam.

      Well, look Mike, if you’re not doing anything the next couple of weeks or so why not come stay at my apartment.  I’m flying back next week to start my summer job at the music store. We could fly over there and you could stay as long as you like.

      I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

      I don’t know; maybe another time. Who knows, I might get a summer job or something.

      "Are you sure, Mike?"

      Yeah. I got a lot of stuff I want to do at home anyway. You know how it goes.

      I don’t know why I told Keith all

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