THE BAND PLAYED ON
By C. Shook
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Astonishing Stories, June 1942.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
I'm playing trombone in a little five-piece combo at Benny's Bar andGrill when it happens. At the time we are slightly enlarged by thepresence of four of Bill Gundry's boys who are working out at the parkand have dropped by to sit in after they have finished, and also wehave present Eddie Smith and Mart Allen, who are a clarinet and trumpetfrom The Pines.
Benny's is the local hangout for all the musicians in town, which isthe main reason I'm playing there; one night Whiteman himself shows,when his band is working a theatre job at the Palace.
During the early part of the night we play our own arrangements off thepaper, but after about one o'clock we are liable to be jamming withany of the boys who can find seats—like this night I'm telling youabout.
When I first notice it we are giving out on the Jazz Me Blues, whichis a fine ensemble number, and we are hitting it in a fast Dixieland.I'm ragging the beat and I can feel the old slush pump tremble, butI figure it's because I'm really solid at the moment and I keep onsending.
Well, we clean up the Jazz Me's and I'm still hot so I hit right onthe B-natural for Stardust, with the boys jumping in, and we take itslow and mellow through one chorus together. Then I stand up for a soloon the second, and that is when it happens.
I don't know exactly what takes place, but I'm riding as I reach outfor a high one that's really out of the world. I feel the pump trembleagain, and then what happens is that I am really out of the world.
I mean I'm actually out of the world!
The vibrations from the trombone shoot right up my arms, and thenmy whole body is shaking. I can't stop it. The lights fade away andI'm trembling so I can't even hear the music ... and then I'm notshaking any more, but Benny's is not there or I'm not there, and it isdaylight, which is crazy because it is only two A.M.
I am still kind of weak as I look around, and then I'm weaker still.The least thing, I figured, was that I had had a spasm or somethingand was in a hospital and it was the next day. But when I look aroundagain I know this is no hospital. I'm lying on a big flat rock and I amdressed just as I was at Benny's. I even have my slip-horn beside me.
But the thing that gives me the jumps is the grass. It is all purple.And the trees and everything around have purple leaves where theyshould be green. I look at my coat. It is a light blue. My pants areblack and my skin is white. Then I look at the grass beside me. Ireach out and pick a handful. It is plenty purple all right. And I'mthinking as I look at it there in my hand that there is no place in theworld where the trees and plants are purple. No place in the world....
I know I am not asleep, but tell myself, "whenever you read aboutanything like this happening, the hero always thinks he is asleep atfirst and pinches himself to find out whether he is or not." So I reachover for my slush pump and give it a good blast. I hear it all right.Just to make sure, I do pinch myself lightly, but it is no soap. I amhere and the grass is still purple. I get up off the rock and walkabout.
When I stand up I find that I am in a large meadow with nothing more insight than the rocks here and there and a few trees. The purple grassis nearly knee-high. There is no sense