Contacting Johnny ‘Fast Fingers’ Ferguson

Contacting Johnny ‘Fast Fingers’ Ferguson

Alvin Lee Bridgewater looked at his friend Stevie Ray Howe with a gambler’s grin.  

“Well, you gonna be chicken?”

Stevie Ray looked up at his friend and gritted through his teeth.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

“If we stick to the plan we should be fine.”

Stevie Ray nodded his head.

“I gotta go home and get ready.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

They slapped palms hard and then left.

“I can’t believe he agreed to spend the night in the graveyard where Johnny ‘Fast Fingers’ Ferguson is buried.” He flashed a sweet smile.

The day knifed out slowly and the hours before darkness seemed like an eternity away.

Then, the sun began to set and the night chill started to descend slowly at first and then hard like an egg plopping down on a solid ceramic tiled floor.

Alvin Lee, sporting a sleeping bag, his guitar, a blanket and some food supplies headed out.

Stevie Ray was armed with the same stuff when they met on the street corner. They were going to take their bikes but that was sissy stuff according to Alvin Lee.

“You scared?”

“Only of your face.”

Stevie Ray kept walking looking straight ahead.  

“It was like ten years ago that he was wiped out in that car accident.”

Stevie Ray nodded his head.

“They say, that when he crashed his spirit lifted up and sailed away leaving his mangled, blood covered body behind.”

“If you say so,” hummed Stevie Ray.

“And when they found him, they said that he was clutching his guitar with the bloody hands. Some of his fingers were cut off and were never found.”

“Are you going to be a moron your whole life?”

Alvin Lee smiled at first.

“What do you mean a moron?”

“Don’t like the word moron? Would you like me to call you a simpleton?”

Alvin Lee just shook his head.

They walked in silence the rest of the way.  

When they arrived at Templeton Memorial Gardens, it was dark and creepy.  The wrought iron gate appeared forbidding.

They walked inside and the darkness swallowed them.

Since they had been there many times there was no problem finding it. However, they had never been there in the dark.

“Here it is.”

“Yeah, man here it is.”

There was a moment of hesitation.

“Okay, let’s get settled in.”

They did just that laying out their sleeping bags. The guitars came out next.

They had brought their beat up old acoustics instead of the fancy electric stuff. After all, they were in a graveyard.

“So how do you want to contact 

Johnny ‘Fast Fingers’?”  

“I guess we could play one of his songs.” Alvin Lee smiled

“Sure which one do you know?” It was Stevie Ray’s turn to grin.

Alvin Lee was Johnny ‘Fast Fingers’ greatest fans. Once he had hitchhiked five hundred miles just to see him play. He knew every song inside out.

In fact, the two had met at a party three years ago. Alvin Lee was sitting on a picnic table strumming the same acoustic singing one Johnny’s songs. A lot of the girls were there enjoying the music. 

This ruffled the feathers of an ugly dude named Bruce Jones. He went over and tried to pick a fight. He tried to grab the guitar.  

Alvin Lee put the guitar down and it looked like there was going to be a fight. Except Bruce didn’t fight one on one; he always had backup. Things didn’t look real good for the guitarist when Stevie Ray arrived with his brother in tow.

His brother Brian was one of the toughest guys in town. He had quite the reputation as a badass. Both Stevie Ray and his sibling were guitar players and would back one up anytime.

The supposed fight which would have been three against one turned quickly. Bruce backed off when he saw Brian.

After that, Alvin Lee and Stevie Ray started to hang together and became friends.  

Stevie Ray was amazed that Alvin Lee knew every one of Johnny’s songs. They jammed on them for many nights making up new lyrics and having fun.

“Which song do you want to play?”

“I dunno.”

So Alvin Lee started to play “Hanging With a Pretty Blond.”

Stevie Ray smiled. 

He had a cousin, Leslie who was a very pretty blond and thought of all the fun times they had shared. She was a sweet, fun loving girl always ready to tease the boys and able to take a joke. There was no doubt with that hot body and beautiful face she was a girl, but the female blended in and was one of the guys.

They had driven to Texas the three of them on spring break and it had been a great time. 

Stevie Ray didn’t sing along or touch how guitar. He just listened and smiled.  

One song merged into another and the cemetery was filed with Alvin Lee’s fine guitar work and passable voice.  

Eventually, Stevie Ray joined in adding a very definite second voice to the original. The boys played their hearts out for a long time.

A couple of hours later they were out of songs.

“That was cool.”

“Yeah, that was really cool.”

They sat there and remained silent for a long time.  

“You know, I wasn’t sure that this was going to be cool, but it is.”

“Yeah, but like for real we aren’t going to contact his spirit.”

“That would be really hard. Besides, I’m not sure that I would want to see his ghost. They say a ghost looks exactly the way they did when they died.”

“Yeah, that would be really gruesome.”

Soon, they started to get sleepy and closed their eyes.  

When they woke up it was nearly dawn.  

“His ghost might have shown up.”

“I doubt it and if it did we were sleeping.”

“Yeah, that was a bummer.”

“Anyway, let’s go.”

“Did you think we were going to contact his spirit?”

Alvin Lee hesitated.

“I don’t know. I mean, like I’m not sure I believe in all that stuff, but it could be true. And, if we did then great. Maybe he liked our singing and playing?”

“Yeah, maybe, cause that would be really cool.”

“Yeah, it would. Ready to go?”

“Okay.”

They packed up their gear and left.

As they left, the ghost of Johnny was sitting on the gravestone waving at them.