chapter 6  Barry White

chapter 6 Barry White

A Chapter by zee

If Easy day ended up sweetly, Barry’s one was about to begin just then, at
night, when people usually relax and sleep peacefully.
When he opened his home’s door, an old scene welcomed him: John and
George were fighting about who was going to pick up the TV channels that
evening. Barry passed by his two brothers, smiling, and tapped them on the
head.
“Hi Barry” they said, stopPing to argue for a tiny second.
They were identical twins, and about eight years old. But they weren’t sons
of his mother. They were sons of someone else, who just like Barry’s mom,
couldn’t take care of them or whatever, and had left them on the doorstep
of Mama Sheryl. Sheryl was a known good hearted woman, living in a poor
neighborhood of New York, were mostly colored people helped each other
as they could.
Mama Sheryl’s big heart made her adopt six children: Barry, the oldest,
Mary, Trisha, Jeremiah, George and John. She decided the name for each
one of them, because they all came to her as babies. Except for Barry. She
knew he was named Barry White, and she still remembered the day when a
six years old boy knocked on her door, saying: “My momma says if I can
stay here ‘till she comes back”. He stayed for sixteen years.
But he wasn’t waiting for his mom anymore. He knew his true Mama was
Sheryl now, and he almost forgot even how Miss White looked like.
Each time Barry came back home, Sheryl was very happy: she knew he
worked a lot to keep his numerous family up. He was the man there, and
she just couldn’t thank him more, never making troubles, never asking for
whims. But of course, every young man has his dreams and passions, and
Sheryl knew very well what her son’s passion was: he liked to sing. 
With the excuse that they needed a second job than the one in the
bookstore, Barry worked as a waiter in a pub, to make some extra money.
But everyone in his family knew he went there to listen to the young
singers and musicians who tried to break through with their music.
Barry dreamed hard to be on the stage one day, just like them, and make
the customers listen to his voice. Sometimes even a manager or two went
to that pub to discover some new talents.
That night, Barry’s dream came true: he didn’t go to the pub to serve at the
tables. He went there to sing! He’d prayed the pub’s owner so longed to
give him a try, and finally he had accepted. Barry thought that he was giving
him a chance because he pissed him off too much, or just because there
was a missing place on that stage to fill. He just didn’t care. He was going to
sing!
He came home exhausted, but still he had some energy to go upstairs and
wear his nice black suite Mama Sheryl had given to him: it was of her dead
husband Patrick, and just fitted him perfectly.
“Wait a minute young gentleman!” Mama Sheryl said, before his son put
his feet on the stairs to up to his room. “You ain’t going to that pub before
you ate something, are you?”
“Mom, I just can’t. I’m late” Barry answered, although he knew he had
already lost his battle: when Mama Sheryl said something, she made it
happen in all ways.
“No “moms”, c’mon, Trisha’s prepared the dinner on the table. Everyone at
the table, hurry!” she yelled with authority. Dining all together was a very
important thing to her, because it was the only time of the day every
member of the family was at home. Mama Sheryl cared a lot about this,
and her sons knew why: it kept the family strong.
“Where’s Mary?” Barry asked when everyone reached his or her seat at the
table.
“Oh, she’s dining with her future in-law family” Mama answered: she was
sitting at the head of the table.
Mary was only one year younger than Barry, and she was engaged with a
young fireman who came two weeks ago to ask for her hand to Mama
Sheryl. Mama said he was going to be a good husband, and blessed their
marriage. They have never seen Mary happier since then.
“Okay now, all together, let’s pray” Mama said, and everyone took his
neighbor’s hand, forming a lovely circle. Sheryl used to pray a lot. She
believed God heard the prayers of all his sons and never left them alone.
And praying at the dinner table was another thing she cared about a lot.
Speaking aloud, she said: “Oh good Lord- and all her sons repeated after
her, as she has taught themwe
thank You,
for all you give
the food we eat
the lives we live”
And then, Mama Sheryl alone continued. She always added an extra part to
the prayer that changed from day to day:
“Good Lord, please help our Barry to make good, to show people the
strength and light you gave him. Amen”
“Amen” everyone followed.
After dinner, Barry went upstairs to change his clothes. When he opened
the door, he was very glad to found the suite on his bed, clean and ironed,
ready to be weared.
It was little bit old, but it still seemed pretty good to him. As he dressed up,
Barry imagined how was it going to be to stand in front of dozens of people,
singing aloud. Most people can barely speak in public, how was he going to
sing in public? What if he didn’t make it?
He pushed that thought away, and recalled her Mama’s words: “Just close
your eyes and sing. Sing, son. No matter what.”
That night the pub was even more crowded than usual. Barry entered
reluctantly and went to meet his boss.
“Berry! Where the hell have you been? Do you know what time is it?” he
burst out as soon as the poor Barry opened his office’s door.
“Yes, sir. It’s half past nine, sir.” Barry answered, trying to mask his fear.
“And do you know what time do you have to sing your damned song?”
“Nine thirty five, sir.”
“So what the hell are you doing here! Get to the stage, now!” he yelled out
to the poor Barry. The boss was always too sour to be loved. For a moment
Barry compared him to his other boss, Eddie, and he couldn’t help smile.
After the presenter had read his name aloud, Barry managed to reach the
stage, even if his legs were trembling. There was silence, like in a graveyard,
and a big flash pointed to his face. Barry looked at the audience: their faces
weren’t that friendly, but his eyes met the ones of a pretty young lady sat
at number 25. She was wearing a lot of make-up and gaudy earrings that
matched her coffee-and-milk like skin very nicely. He had seen her in that
pub very often, each time with a different guy, and each time he had
always found her beautiful. Singing in front of her was making things worse.
“Focus!” he tried to think. “Close your eyes and sing! No matter what.”
And so, he sang.



© 2017 zee



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Added on August 13, 2017
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Author

zee
zee

arbil, Iraq



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Hi I'm a very very new to writing and I am happy to hear from you and your advice hope you like it and have a good day or evening where ever you are ^-^ more..

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