Traveller by L.W. Samuelson (english reading book TXT) đź“•
Excerpt from the book:
A teenager, bored and alone on a spaceship, seeks adventure in a virtual reality unit. He finds relief in a competition with his adult friend, Porter Tellez.
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- Author: L.W. Samuelson
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were numb, the beer tasted delicious. No one noticed when he finished the first beer and got another from the fridge, they were too busy eating pizza.
For the first time since he had started working, Traveller relaxed. He sat at the table by himself. The rest of the group had piled plates with slices of pepperoni pizza before going into the living room. Even Jesse had forgotten about him as he stuffed his face.
This is why my comrades at work drink beer, so they can forget that they’re trading a good portion of their life for food and shelter. It’s a sedative. I don’t have to think about anything except how relaxed I feel. I can’t feel my sore muscles anymore. No wonder they drink beer every night. It’s a reward for sacrificing themselves.
Traveller’s head hung down as he stared into his beer thinking. When he looked up Lori was standing over him with her hands on her hips. “Are you sure you should be drinking that?” she asked.
“I’ve already had one little lady,” Traveller said in a perfect imitation of John Wayne.
“You’ve been watching too many movies, Tex,” she said smiling.
“Si senorita, me gusto cervesa,” he said in another perfect impersonation of an obscure character. He took a healthy gulp of beer to demonstrate.
“You sure are a pretty little philly,” he said reverting back to John Wayne’s voice.
“That beer is making you silly,” Lori concluded.
“Let’s listen to music,” Jesse yelled from the other room. He turned the stereo on. Carole King’s voice filled the house, “You just call out my name.” After the first line Lori and Traveller joined the people in the living room. Everyone sang the next line, “And you know wherever I am.” They continued singing the lines from the song. When the stereo came to the last two lines, Jesse turned it off. Without the music people eventually quit singing until only Traveller was left crooning with his eyes closed.
“Oh my God, he sounds exactly like Carole King!” Jesse exclaimed.
Traveller stopped and looked around the room embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been teaching myself to play Lori’s guitar. I’ve learned this song by heart. It’s my favorite.”
“Well go get the guitar bro’. We wanna hear you play,” Willy suggested.
Traveller looked at Lori, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’m the one that suggested you play. I showed you where to place your hands. It’s all my fault if you fail and I take full credit for it if you succeed,” Lori said smiling.
When Traveller came back, Willy quieted everyone down. The alien strummed, tuning the guitar to his voice. He picked the strings with a beautiful improvised introduction before singing “You’ve Got a Friend.” The only difference between Traveller’s rendition and King’s was that she played the piano. He imitated her perfectly down to the intonation, timing, and syllables.
No one clapped, they were too shocked. “That was totally amazing!” Tim said finally breaking the silence.
Always the opportunist, Jesse said, “That’s our ticket. We’ll start a rock band. Can you play anything else?”
The room quieted again as Traveller started strumming. He began the song with Bob Dylan’s nasal voice before singing in his own tenor, “The answer my friend is blowing in the wind.”
When he finished, Jesse said, “Forget about imitating someone else. You can make millions with your own voice. Start growing your hair out, you’re going to be a star!”
“I get keyboards!” said Tim.
“And I’ll play the drums. Lori can do back up vocals,” Jesse said.
“I play the harmonica,” said Willy.
“You guys are jumping the gun,” Lori said. “How do you know Traveller wants to be a rock star?”
“As opposed to loading boxcars?” Traveller said. “My hair is getting longer as we speak. I can see it now; we’ll be called the “Working Class Fools.”
“I always knew we was fools,” Willy said. “Now we gonna get paid for it.”
“Beer, Willy?” Jesse tempted.
“Naw man. I’m in training.”
“Just checking,” Jesse grinned.
The group laughed and visited until well into the night. By the time it ended, the pizza was gone and they had toured the world and made millions on the music circuit. Traveller finally stood up and sang, “Turn out the lights, my friend, the party’s over.” He sounded just like Don Meredith on Monday Night Football.
Willy soon forgot all about playing in the band. After substituting in his first three games, he became a starter. Averaging twenty-four points, twelve rebounds, and six assists, he not only became a starter, but for the four games leading into the NCAA tournament, Willy became ISU’s star player. They hadn’t lost a game since he returned to the team. He was so busy playing basketball that he only saw his friends after the game when they sought him out for congradulations. Chapter 34 - The End of Working Class Fools
Lori liked the idea of being in a band so much that she traded her acoustic guitar in for an electric bass guitar. She practiced every night while Traveller was at work. The tips of her fingers gradually became calloused as she also became a credible bass player.
Jesse wasn’t allowed to bring his drums into the dormitory, but he had begged one of the school’s music teachers to allow him to keep them in the band room. It was almost always empty from four o’clock in the afternoon until six. He rarely missed practicing at that time.
Tim also practiced. He had given up playing the keyboard when he entered college, but a trip home to retrieve his Yamaha and he was back in business. He practiced before, after, and between classes in his dorm room.
Traveller continued working. With Lori’s help, he had purchased an electric guitar and amplifier. She had co-signed the loan for over a thousand dollars. Work didn’t seem so bad now that he had a purpose.
He practiced all day while she was at school or work. Of all his friends, he was the most single minded. Determined to play, he practiced for hours. Not only did he listen to tapes and play by ear, but he also taught himself to read music.
Soon Traveller was playing songs by Steppenwolf, The Doors, Jim Brown, B.B. King and Eric Clapton. He was drawn to the blues, but he also learned to play and sing a wide variety of other songs, like “The Impossible Dream” or “Send in the Clowns.” He loved Ray Charles’s rendition of “Georgia on My Mind.” He played in dark glasses mimicking the head movements and mannerisms of Ray Charles.
The band’s first practice started with an argument. “I think we need to change our name,” Lori suggested.
“Why?” Jesse said. “I like Working Class Fools.”
“So do I,” said Traveller. “Any one that works for a living is a fool, man.”
“That’s exactly why we need to change it. It’s condescending. No one wants to be called a fool,” Lori said.
“Come off it, Sis. No one will care.”
“No, I see what she means,” said Traveller. “So do you have a better name?”
“How about the Benwarian Blues Band?” Lori said.
“That’s it!” Tim exclaimed. “What do you think, Jesse?”
“I like it,” he said rattling his drums for emphasis. “We’ll be the only ones who know what a Benwarian is. Not only will we sing the blues, but our lead singer will actually be blue.”
Traveller broke into song, “Can’t get next to you. It’s makin’ me blue. But what can I do? You’ll never be true.”
“If that isn’t John Lee Hooker’s voice,” said Jesse, “I’m deaf.”
“Would you like to hear Hank Williams? I’ve been listening to him all week,” Traveller said as everyone tuned their instruments.
“Go for it,” Jesse encouraged.
Traveller picked up an old cowboy hat from behind his amplifier. When he placed it on his head, his whole demeanor change. He was now Hank Williams. “You’re cheatin’ heart will tell on you, it’ll make you sad, it’ll make you blue.”
The whole group stopped what they were doing to listen. For over a half hour, the alien performed Hank Williams in a flawless imitation of his voice and actions. When he finished the group applauded.
Lori, ever the task master, brought everyone back to the purpose of the rehearsal. “That was an amazing performance, but we have a whole list of songs to get through if we’re ever going to be ready to perform together. Let’s start with “Magic Carpet Ride.”
“John Kay,” Traveller said. He replaced his cowboy hat with a long haired black wig before slapping sunglasses on. They practiced the song several times before moving on to “The Pusher”, “Good Morning Little School Girl” concluding with “Born to Be Wild.” Traveller left the band behind when it came to his favorite song.
“I’ve got this one,” he told his friends. “Head out on the highway, lookin’ for adventure, in whatever comes our way.” This song so reminded him of his own decision to leave the comforts of his culture and the confines of Ship that he had to perform it alone, unfettered by the missed notes and restarts of the band. When he finished, he said, “I’m going to take a break. You guys practice the song for a while on your own.”
Traveller left the garage and walked back to Lori’s. He rushed up the stairs and then into the kitchen. He opened the refridgerator, pulled a beer out, and then drank almost half of it before coming up for air. He slapped the can down on the table before turning the stereo on. He listened to the Doors as he finished his beer. He had learned to relish beer now that he considered himself to be a working man. He drank another while listening to the rest of the album. When he left the apartment, it was as Jim Morrison.
The Door’s portion of the program started with “Light My Fire.” When they finished, Traveller pulled the microphone from the stand and staggered around, “No one gets out of here alive,” he screamed. They played the next song, “Road House Blues” before launching into “Ship of Fools.”
“Nobody gonna come up and love me?” Traveller asked signaling the end of the Doors songs. “Wake up!” he screamed, “Wake up!”
Traveller paused dramatically before wailing, “Bring out your dead. Bring out your dead.” It sounded like he had brought the stereo from the house so true was his imitation of Jim Morrison.
Lori watched as Traveller’s eyes blurred into a drugged expression of depression before singing, “This is the end. My only friend, the end . . .” He ended the song with his voice reverberating.
“And with that it’s time to call it a wrap,” Lori said. “It’s two in the morning.”
It became unbundantly clear to everyone in the band that they had hitched themselves to a great talent. He had given them a list of songs that included the Beatles, Eric Burden and the Animals, and Bob Dylan to prepare for the next rehearsal. To a person they knew that they would have to practice long and hard to keep up with this star from the stars.Chapter 35 - The NCAA Tournament
The Western Regionals were scheduled to begin on March, 20th 1976. ISU was seeded 8th as winner of the Big Sky Conference. They would play the perennial powerhouse UCLA in the opening round. On the day before the game, Willy was so excited that he tried getting rid of his nervous energy by walking the six blocks to Lori’s. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear Paul McCartney singing, “Yesterday.” The music stopped abruptly when he knocked on the door.
Traveller pulled the
For the first time since he had started working, Traveller relaxed. He sat at the table by himself. The rest of the group had piled plates with slices of pepperoni pizza before going into the living room. Even Jesse had forgotten about him as he stuffed his face.
This is why my comrades at work drink beer, so they can forget that they’re trading a good portion of their life for food and shelter. It’s a sedative. I don’t have to think about anything except how relaxed I feel. I can’t feel my sore muscles anymore. No wonder they drink beer every night. It’s a reward for sacrificing themselves.
Traveller’s head hung down as he stared into his beer thinking. When he looked up Lori was standing over him with her hands on her hips. “Are you sure you should be drinking that?” she asked.
“I’ve already had one little lady,” Traveller said in a perfect imitation of John Wayne.
“You’ve been watching too many movies, Tex,” she said smiling.
“Si senorita, me gusto cervesa,” he said in another perfect impersonation of an obscure character. He took a healthy gulp of beer to demonstrate.
“You sure are a pretty little philly,” he said reverting back to John Wayne’s voice.
“That beer is making you silly,” Lori concluded.
“Let’s listen to music,” Jesse yelled from the other room. He turned the stereo on. Carole King’s voice filled the house, “You just call out my name.” After the first line Lori and Traveller joined the people in the living room. Everyone sang the next line, “And you know wherever I am.” They continued singing the lines from the song. When the stereo came to the last two lines, Jesse turned it off. Without the music people eventually quit singing until only Traveller was left crooning with his eyes closed.
“Oh my God, he sounds exactly like Carole King!” Jesse exclaimed.
Traveller stopped and looked around the room embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been teaching myself to play Lori’s guitar. I’ve learned this song by heart. It’s my favorite.”
“Well go get the guitar bro’. We wanna hear you play,” Willy suggested.
Traveller looked at Lori, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’m the one that suggested you play. I showed you where to place your hands. It’s all my fault if you fail and I take full credit for it if you succeed,” Lori said smiling.
When Traveller came back, Willy quieted everyone down. The alien strummed, tuning the guitar to his voice. He picked the strings with a beautiful improvised introduction before singing “You’ve Got a Friend.” The only difference between Traveller’s rendition and King’s was that she played the piano. He imitated her perfectly down to the intonation, timing, and syllables.
No one clapped, they were too shocked. “That was totally amazing!” Tim said finally breaking the silence.
Always the opportunist, Jesse said, “That’s our ticket. We’ll start a rock band. Can you play anything else?”
The room quieted again as Traveller started strumming. He began the song with Bob Dylan’s nasal voice before singing in his own tenor, “The answer my friend is blowing in the wind.”
When he finished, Jesse said, “Forget about imitating someone else. You can make millions with your own voice. Start growing your hair out, you’re going to be a star!”
“I get keyboards!” said Tim.
“And I’ll play the drums. Lori can do back up vocals,” Jesse said.
“I play the harmonica,” said Willy.
“You guys are jumping the gun,” Lori said. “How do you know Traveller wants to be a rock star?”
“As opposed to loading boxcars?” Traveller said. “My hair is getting longer as we speak. I can see it now; we’ll be called the “Working Class Fools.”
“I always knew we was fools,” Willy said. “Now we gonna get paid for it.”
“Beer, Willy?” Jesse tempted.
“Naw man. I’m in training.”
“Just checking,” Jesse grinned.
The group laughed and visited until well into the night. By the time it ended, the pizza was gone and they had toured the world and made millions on the music circuit. Traveller finally stood up and sang, “Turn out the lights, my friend, the party’s over.” He sounded just like Don Meredith on Monday Night Football.
Willy soon forgot all about playing in the band. After substituting in his first three games, he became a starter. Averaging twenty-four points, twelve rebounds, and six assists, he not only became a starter, but for the four games leading into the NCAA tournament, Willy became ISU’s star player. They hadn’t lost a game since he returned to the team. He was so busy playing basketball that he only saw his friends after the game when they sought him out for congradulations. Chapter 34 - The End of Working Class Fools
Lori liked the idea of being in a band so much that she traded her acoustic guitar in for an electric bass guitar. She practiced every night while Traveller was at work. The tips of her fingers gradually became calloused as she also became a credible bass player.
Jesse wasn’t allowed to bring his drums into the dormitory, but he had begged one of the school’s music teachers to allow him to keep them in the band room. It was almost always empty from four o’clock in the afternoon until six. He rarely missed practicing at that time.
Tim also practiced. He had given up playing the keyboard when he entered college, but a trip home to retrieve his Yamaha and he was back in business. He practiced before, after, and between classes in his dorm room.
Traveller continued working. With Lori’s help, he had purchased an electric guitar and amplifier. She had co-signed the loan for over a thousand dollars. Work didn’t seem so bad now that he had a purpose.
He practiced all day while she was at school or work. Of all his friends, he was the most single minded. Determined to play, he practiced for hours. Not only did he listen to tapes and play by ear, but he also taught himself to read music.
Soon Traveller was playing songs by Steppenwolf, The Doors, Jim Brown, B.B. King and Eric Clapton. He was drawn to the blues, but he also learned to play and sing a wide variety of other songs, like “The Impossible Dream” or “Send in the Clowns.” He loved Ray Charles’s rendition of “Georgia on My Mind.” He played in dark glasses mimicking the head movements and mannerisms of Ray Charles.
The band’s first practice started with an argument. “I think we need to change our name,” Lori suggested.
“Why?” Jesse said. “I like Working Class Fools.”
“So do I,” said Traveller. “Any one that works for a living is a fool, man.”
“That’s exactly why we need to change it. It’s condescending. No one wants to be called a fool,” Lori said.
“Come off it, Sis. No one will care.”
“No, I see what she means,” said Traveller. “So do you have a better name?”
“How about the Benwarian Blues Band?” Lori said.
“That’s it!” Tim exclaimed. “What do you think, Jesse?”
“I like it,” he said rattling his drums for emphasis. “We’ll be the only ones who know what a Benwarian is. Not only will we sing the blues, but our lead singer will actually be blue.”
Traveller broke into song, “Can’t get next to you. It’s makin’ me blue. But what can I do? You’ll never be true.”
“If that isn’t John Lee Hooker’s voice,” said Jesse, “I’m deaf.”
“Would you like to hear Hank Williams? I’ve been listening to him all week,” Traveller said as everyone tuned their instruments.
“Go for it,” Jesse encouraged.
Traveller picked up an old cowboy hat from behind his amplifier. When he placed it on his head, his whole demeanor change. He was now Hank Williams. “You’re cheatin’ heart will tell on you, it’ll make you sad, it’ll make you blue.”
The whole group stopped what they were doing to listen. For over a half hour, the alien performed Hank Williams in a flawless imitation of his voice and actions. When he finished the group applauded.
Lori, ever the task master, brought everyone back to the purpose of the rehearsal. “That was an amazing performance, but we have a whole list of songs to get through if we’re ever going to be ready to perform together. Let’s start with “Magic Carpet Ride.”
“John Kay,” Traveller said. He replaced his cowboy hat with a long haired black wig before slapping sunglasses on. They practiced the song several times before moving on to “The Pusher”, “Good Morning Little School Girl” concluding with “Born to Be Wild.” Traveller left the band behind when it came to his favorite song.
“I’ve got this one,” he told his friends. “Head out on the highway, lookin’ for adventure, in whatever comes our way.” This song so reminded him of his own decision to leave the comforts of his culture and the confines of Ship that he had to perform it alone, unfettered by the missed notes and restarts of the band. When he finished, he said, “I’m going to take a break. You guys practice the song for a while on your own.”
Traveller left the garage and walked back to Lori’s. He rushed up the stairs and then into the kitchen. He opened the refridgerator, pulled a beer out, and then drank almost half of it before coming up for air. He slapped the can down on the table before turning the stereo on. He listened to the Doors as he finished his beer. He had learned to relish beer now that he considered himself to be a working man. He drank another while listening to the rest of the album. When he left the apartment, it was as Jim Morrison.
The Door’s portion of the program started with “Light My Fire.” When they finished, Traveller pulled the microphone from the stand and staggered around, “No one gets out of here alive,” he screamed. They played the next song, “Road House Blues” before launching into “Ship of Fools.”
“Nobody gonna come up and love me?” Traveller asked signaling the end of the Doors songs. “Wake up!” he screamed, “Wake up!”
Traveller paused dramatically before wailing, “Bring out your dead. Bring out your dead.” It sounded like he had brought the stereo from the house so true was his imitation of Jim Morrison.
Lori watched as Traveller’s eyes blurred into a drugged expression of depression before singing, “This is the end. My only friend, the end . . .” He ended the song with his voice reverberating.
“And with that it’s time to call it a wrap,” Lori said. “It’s two in the morning.”
It became unbundantly clear to everyone in the band that they had hitched themselves to a great talent. He had given them a list of songs that included the Beatles, Eric Burden and the Animals, and Bob Dylan to prepare for the next rehearsal. To a person they knew that they would have to practice long and hard to keep up with this star from the stars.Chapter 35 - The NCAA Tournament
The Western Regionals were scheduled to begin on March, 20th 1976. ISU was seeded 8th as winner of the Big Sky Conference. They would play the perennial powerhouse UCLA in the opening round. On the day before the game, Willy was so excited that he tried getting rid of his nervous energy by walking the six blocks to Lori’s. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear Paul McCartney singing, “Yesterday.” The music stopped abruptly when he knocked on the door.
Traveller pulled the
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