she's here," the waitress said, puzzled. "She don' work tables
though." She leaned on the table with one hand. "Can I get you
something to drink first?"

"I'll have a Coca-Cola."

The waitress left and came back with his drink. She set it lightly on
the table, with a battered cork coaster beneath, and slid it in front
of him. He ordered a few side dishes--words spilling willy-nilly from
his mouth while he glanced over the menu. He was uncertain how much he
should order and ended up ordering far too much food to eat alone--but
he felt that he really owed Mabel something. Plain Al showed up later;
Jurgen walked over to say hello, and to thank him for so kindly
allowing him to play the other evening. Remembering that he had plates
of untouched food, he invited Al over to his table. They ate together
and talked about the late George Gershwin.

"Pity how he passed away so suddenly, ain't it?" Al observed quietly.

"I'm sure he'll be counted among the greatest," Jurgen replied.

Jurgen joined the band and they spent the rest of the evening working
over tunes they all knew. Mabel came out and sang with them, and they
rounded out the evening with a few long numbers just for the enjoyment
of listening to each other. The crowd seemed more appreciative than it
had been before--Jurgen believed that anything would have been an
improvement. There were simply more people present, so he felt they
were more appreciative, but he guessed it was all part of the same
thing they heard every Saturday night in Calcutta. There were a couple
of other musicians--a hot young sax player with a large belly and a
low-hung belt that barely held up a pair of wool pants with worn knees.
There was a wrinkled old man, half blind, who played blues with his
beat-up guitar--he had a hole the size of a silver dollar in one shoe
and he wore no socks. It was far from the symphony, but Jurgen
thoroughly enjoyed his second evening in Calcutta.

* * * * *

Dropping into the Calcutta to play the evening away quickly became a
pleasant habit over the next few weeks. Jurgen came to consider his
previous life as having been sheltered from some of the finest
home-spun music he had ever heard, and he decided there was much to be
learned here. Whether they worked in factories or restaurants, or
tended stores in the neighborhood, the people who congregated around
Mabel all seemed to have one thing in common: concentrated m