Page 26 - The Gluckman Occasional Number Four

The next evening a new trumpet player sat in with the Moldy Fig
Quintet at a small jazz club in Greenwich Village. It was Arturo,
appearing incognito. He couldn’t stay away from music: it was his
life, his love, his living. He knew he had the ability to improvise in
the manner of jazz musicians, but he’d never had a chance to try it
in public. He was excited.
Again, Arturo was
an instant success. His
ensemble work was
flawless, his sense of
rhythm impeccable.
But it was the
elephant’s brief solos
that drew the most
attention. He could
play the blues now,
after what he’d been
through. The fans had
never heard such wild