The Forgotten Bard
by Michael Ashlock
It was quite a walk on the Sunset Strip to audition at the Roxy, at least for people in this world. I used to walk wherever I went. It seemed like such a long time ago when I was abruptly dumped here by magic, attached to a curse. Can’t forget the curse. I stopped to get bottled water at the Pink Dot. The cashier eyed the guitar on my back.
“You a musician?”
Fernando was the name of the cashier. We had talked many times before, but he didn’t remember me. Nobody does. “Yes, I’m headed to an audition now.”
“I’m Fernando Reyes. Good luck on your audition.”
I looked for any hint of recognition or any other sign that the spell had weakened, but as usual there wasn’t any. “I’m Derek Marsh. Thanks, Fernando. Have a good day.” I walked out of the store and knew that Fernando had already forgotten me. I had tried everything. One day I walked in and out several times, each time was the first encounter for Fernando meeting Derek Marsh. I had used several names. It didn’t matter, none of them were remembered unless they were written down. I didn’t have time to try to get people to remember me today. I had to get to the Roxy.
The man at the door was Chandler Davis. I told him that I had an audition. Like Fernando, he had no recollection of our many meetings or backstage partying after I played.
“I don’t remember you. I also don’t remember any auditions at this time.”
“I’m on the list. Derek Marsh. Check it.” My voice was calm. I had learned to live and adapt to the curse.
Chandler frowned as he brought to bear the clipboard that he always kept close by. In spite of this, he never actually checked the list and prided himself on his good memory.
“Huh. Sure enough, here you are, Derek Marsh. Sorry, man. Enjoy your audition. Just relax and be yourself.”
“Thanks.”
I went directly to the stage to set up. All the people in the club were known to me. This was the worst part of the curse. I have all of these shared experiences with people who should be my friends, but nobody knew me.
Chandler and a couple others sat in on the audition. I knew Chandler was fond of the old rock ballads, so I played a ballad I wrote. It was a learning curve switching from a mandolin to an electric guitar, but it turned out to be an advantage. Nobody here had to hone their craft as a traveling bard, or go hungry. Many musicians I met had great talent, but didn’t know how to tell a meaningful story. In my song I spoke of a deep love that transpired between two lovers, but it was broken up by a powerful jealous suitor. The song was new and based on a true story, my own. All three stood up and clapped when I finished. I smiled and bowed as usual. They told me to show up tonight and they would have a spot for me. I made sure I was on the list.
♫
The Roxy was alive with enthusiastic people. After the list was checked I was let in. I warmed up in a back room before I waited backstage ready to come on. The emcee, Randy Wallace, walked up to me.
“How do you want me to introduce you?”
“Introduce me as ‘The Forgotten Bard’.”
Randy went out and grabbed the microphone. “Give a big welcome to ‘The Forgotten Bard’!”
The Roxy was packed as usual, but I was only playing for one person tonight. I just hoped that she was out there. People had phones out and were recording, but as I found out before, I couldn’t be recorded. I believed once that was the solution, and that if I were on this thing called video the curse would be broken. That was not the case. Video of me disappeared. I searched for hours for the stream the first time. After that I didn’t get my hopes up. My music was used by other artists and it was annoying, but I couldn’t blame them when they couldn’t even remember who inspired them.
My set was three songs. The first two were hard rock songs that would break a novice’s fingers if they tried to play them. The crowd roared. I looked for a certain woman with long black hair and green eyes in the audience. This was the last song. The one I played at the audition. Just before I started the ballad I found her and looked into her eyes. I had my best opportunity to break through the spell tonight, if this new plan was to work at all. I started the song.
Our love soared into the sky from the start.
My songs stole beautiful Marrilyn’s heart.
I broke the spell that caged your soul.
We believed our fate was to be whole
Our words said we would forever be
Fate laughed at us both and replied “We shall see.”
Your former love spoke a curse to shatter you and me.
Jealous magic tore us asunder and cast us into another world’s embrace.
One was cursed to search for the other, although she lacked memory of my face.
The other’s fate was to be an unknown, though his lover’s face was clear
I just wanted to let you know, my love, that I am standing right here.
I had sung to her before, but this time was different. I could see a small realization flash in her eyes, then uncertainty. My singing continued with all my heart. She looked at me like she was trying to see through a fog. I sang with all the talent I could muster. The crowd was in a frenzy and demanded a few encores, which I provided. That was the best part of life these days. The brief recognition for a performance. It reminded me of playing in taverns where everyone knew the bard known as Breslin the Bold. The moments were bittersweet and not lasting, but these days it was all I had. The three years of loneliness had taken its toll and this was the last chance. The last thing I could think of. The audience recognition that kept me going had become the thing that was too much to bear when it went away.
I waited backstage in hopes that Merrilyn would rush back there and say the spell was broken, but after a time disappointment once again won the day. It was time to start the walk home. People backstage congratulated me and I was thankful for that, but it would soon fade along with their memories. The walk home was filled with looks back to see if Merrilyn followed. The curse was strong. Brascarri, the mage who cursed me, must have given a huge sacrifice for a spell this potent. I hope his soul burns. Back at the apartment, the loneliness dug deeper into the pit of despair. Tonight it was using a big shovel. I gave all that I had onstage and still the curse held.
The knock on the door was unexpected. I dragged myself to the door. It was probably the drunk tenant next door, who sometimes got the wrong apartment by mistake. Lee Roman was a twenty-something who enjoyed drinking and rambling on. Any interaction was a welcome one tonight. I opened the door. Lee stood there unsteady on his feet and looked surprised like before. He broke out into a smile.
He said in a too loud voice as he pointed to me. “You’re famous.” Lee fumbled with his phone and began scrolling.
I pointed to the right with my thumb. “I believe you live next door.”
“Just a minute.” Lee had to focus on the phone in front of his face. His swiping consisted of intense concentration combined with squinting. Lee’s tongue hung out to the side during the process. As usual he reeked of alcohol. “Got it!”
Lee turned the phone around so I could see it. First I heard the music I played earlier in the night. I steadied his hand and saw a video of myself on stage.
“You are The Forgotten Bard. I knew it.”
While I stood there in shock, Lee seemed to forget he was in a conversation and stumbled the short distance to his door. He reached for his keys in his pocket and pulled out a note instead. Lee’s eyes went wide.
“This is for you. Lady outside earlier…” Lee waved the note at the end of his outstretched arm. “Read that.”
I couldn’t believe this was real. My mouth hung open, but no sound came out of it when I took the note from Lee’s hand. The note was folded and sealed with wax. I broke the seal and began reading.
Dear Breslin,
I hope that you are the person I am looking for. I have searched for so long only to be disappointed time and time again. If you believe you know me then come to the Bold Brew coffee shop down the street. When you approach me, say my name. I will be there for a couple hours.
I felt like the chains were broken and before I knew it I was running toward the coffee shop. I didn’t need to approach her; Merrilyn sat at a table facing the door. She jumped up and leapt into my arms before I could take two steps or speak a word. The acknowledgment after all of this time was too much. Tears of joy ran down my face, followed by relieved laughter. We were free.
_______________
Michael Ashlock currently resides in Oklahoma. He has served in the Marine Corps and ever since a 5th grade short story assignment he has loved to write. He currently is working on a novel, and a couple screenplays to enter into contests.