“Cheers!” Mascaraed eyes blinking, Jessica clinks her shot glass against Chow Kah’s beer mug, its froth almost overflowing over its brim. “What’s your New Year’s resolution?” She takes a gulp of her tequila and a muscle quivers under her slender throat.
“To learn to play the Harmonica.”
Jessica’s eyes probe at Chow Kah’s face. "Why?” She crosses her shapely legs and her gilded toenails wink at Chow Kah from her open-toed strapped sandals. “What triggered your interest?”
Chow Kah and Jessica are slouched on the couch in the Platinum Room of Hot Legs Niteclub in Bukit Bintang, KL. Lavender from the air freshener sets the mood for a romantic evening.
“This song.” Chow Kah tugs out his cell phone “I listened to it on YouTube and was blown away.” His small eyes are hard, deep and dark in his face, its chin stubbled. “I’ll forward you the link.” He taps a few times on its screen.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Nq5oYUTBOk
Jessica listens to the song “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”
Her smooth long creamy fingers deposit her cell phone back on the coffee table. “Nice, but I’m not a fan of harmonica songs.”
“Compared to other instruments, a harmonica’s cheaper.” Chow Kah stuff his face with prawn crackers. “If I lose interest, I don’t lose much.”
“Yeah, you can also use the harmonica case to keep your wife’s jewellery.” A leer starts in Jessica’s eyes and moves in ripples across her face. “ That way, her jewellery won’t be stolen if your house is broken into.” From her sensuous red lips spout a voice with a mirthful edge.
“Aw, come on…” Chow Kah takes a gulp of his Asahi beer, the dawn of a grin upturning one end of his lips. “There’re benefits in playing the harmonica. Strengthens your lungs, also improves parts of the brain that control hearing, memory, and coordination. That’s what I read on the Internet.”
Jessica’s brows go up. “Proof?” They come down. Her forehead puckers and the whites her eyes gleam like pewter.
“Toots Thielemans was active—mentally alert, too— until he passed away at 94.” Chow Kah fiddles his cell phone again.
Jessica sits up straight, her body grazing his. “Who’s he?”
“A Belgian harmonica player— he was a legend. Awarded two honorary doctorates by two universities. Was made a Baron by the King of Belgium. Here, listen to him play.”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKnG_9q4crA
Jessica listens to the song on her cell phone. She tosses her head back, tawny-coloured curls shimmering beneath the overhead a chandelier as she blows wisps of stray hair from her eyes.” She puts her cell phone away. “The harmonica sounds good only in blues and jazz.”
“But it’s easy to learn.”
“That’s what harmonica instructors tell you. It’s like getting into a marriage. Looks easy until you try it. It takes years of practice to play those blues like a pro.” Jessica raises her knees and slouches. “Do you know there’re techniques such as tongue block and tongue slap? Practice makes your tongue’s tip sore and the tongue muscles tired. That includes the jaw, too.”
“Huh? How do you know?”
“My late Dad was a hobby-harmonica player. On occasions, he couldn’t French-kiss my Mum because his tongue was sore. So, he only pecked her on the cheek.”
“Great! That’ll be a good excuse not to French-kiss my wife!”
“You’re a real son-of-a-bitch." Jessica's eyes turn from warm chocolate-brown to cold rusty-brown. "Anyway, I won’t kiss you too when you play the harmonica.”
“Why not?”
“Risk of mouth bacterial infections if the instrument is not cleaned meticulously. A more serious danger is metal poisoning. If tiny metal particles get into your body, you’re headed towards Alzheimer’s Disease.”
“On the second score, I won’t buy a budget harmonica. I’ll go for a branded one, like Lee Oskar or Hohner. They’re stainless steel, corrosion-free too.”
“The harmonica has a negative image. So far, I’ve noticed that only old men and unattractive women play it. Can you name me a sex bomb who plays the harmonica?” Eyes glinting with a dare, she pauses for Chow Kah to answer but his eyes gaze into a blank look. “See? You can’t. But the piano, for example, is associated with elegance; the guitar symbolizes energy; the saxophone’s sounds ooze a sexy appeal. Back to the harmonica. What first comes to your mind when you think of a harmonica? As for me, pitiful bums busking for pennies on the roadside!” A giggle escapes through Jessica’s lips. “Haven’t you heard this joke? What do you call a professional harmonica player?” For a space of two heartbeats, she stares at his confused eyes. “Answer—a guy whose wife needs to hold two jobs.” Jessica chuckles, wilting her rosebud smile. “Your Toots' success—whatever his name—was a rare exception.
Chow Kah and Jessica flit their gazes to the padded door of the KTV room as it swings open. In trots Mummy Lulu on wedges shoes, accompanied by a blast of warm air from the corridor. Jessica shows a V-sign to Mummy, while Chow Kah winks.
“Good evening, Chow Kah!” Mummy Lulu flashes her big yellow teeth. “Glad you’re back with us after a long hiatus.” One of her gnarled hands is on the door knob; the other on her hip.
“The hiatus was yours, not mine.”
“Say, you know any harmonica player?”
“Why?”
“Our organ player’s leaving end of the month. I want a harmonica player to replace him. Recommend someone to me if you can.”
Chow Kah tilts his head in question, thin lips pursed in thought. “Why a harmonica player?”
“Business is no good.” Mummy Lulu’s face knits together, puckered like a yarn that has been pulled too tight. “A harmonica player’s much, much cheaper than an organ player.”
Chow Kah’s body curves like a soggy macaroni. “Jesus fucking Christ!” He flashes a gaze at Jessica and she sees the colour fade from his face. "I’m going to learn to play the saxophone instead."
Jessica shows her small, white teeth in a sensuous smile.
/end
