“Let them shop!” one guy said. “Give them some space!”
“Y’all want a sno-cone?” the girl asked. “My cousin’s got a sno-cone stand at the end of the block. I can get you some sno-cones.”
“I’m fine, just happy to be here,” Jimmy said quietly. I could see that he liked the people who were helping us, but didn’t like being fussed over. Sheba, on the other hand, lingered with each person who shook her hand. She asked them questions: What’s your name? Did you grow up in Baltimore? Each person she talked to looked changed, like they’d been anointed, charged with some kind of power that passed from Sheba to them.
When we moved, we moved as a single mass. The big guy, whose name was Gabriel, was the leader. The bodyguard guys kept everyone who wasn’t part of our group back a couple of feet as the knot of us shuffled across the store.
We started in the Rock section.
“My niece needs her world expanded a little,” Sheba said about me to Gabriel, who was still holding Izzy.
“She’s got a hell of a voice.” Jimmy nodded toward me. “You’re gonna hear her on a record soon.”
“One of yours?” Gabriel asked.
“Oh yeah. Definitely.” Jimmy winked at me and I didn’t know if that meant he was kidding or serious. I couldn’t let myself think about it. I was afraid of ending up wildly disappointed.
Jimmy, Sheba, and Gabriel picked out records for me and handed them to a guy named Little Hank. I soon figured out he was Little Hank because another guy helping us was Medium Hank. I didn’t ask where Big Hank was; maybe it was his day off?
Little Hank sidled up to me and shuffled through what they’d picked out. “You’re gonna love this one.” I looked at the record he held on top of the pile. On the front was a woman with bluish hair, surrounded by a long accordian.
“Is Little Feat the band or is Dixie Chicken the band?”
Little Hank laughed so hard, he bent over. “No, man, Little Feat’s the band.” He shuffled to the next one. There was a photo of a grown man in a very small black bathing suit walking on the beach.
“Boz Scaggs Slow Dancer. Is that the band name or the album name?”
“No wonder they’re buying you music! No niece of Jimmy and Sheba should be so uninformed. Slow Dancer is the name of the album. Boz Scaggs is that guy’s name.” Little Hank flicked his finger on the bathing suit in the picture.
“A guy named Boz? Is that his real name?”
“Heck, I don’t know.” Little Hank kept shuffling through the records. He pulled out Steely Dan, who I’d heard of, and Rod Stewart, who I’d also heard of. I’d never heard of Dr. John, but the title of the album, Cut Me While I’m Hot, made me want to listen.
In the Folk section, Jimmy picked out John Prine and Gram Parsons. I’d heard of them both because Sheba and Mrs. Cone had discussed them one night. Jimmy handed Little Hank a Joni Mitchell album.
“Hell yeah, Jimmy!” Little Hank said. Then he leaned into me and almost whispered, “She’s soulful. I didn’t know who she was until I started working here, but Gabriel, man, he turns me on to every kind of music.”
I wanted to be Little Hank so I could hear every kind of music. Then I realized I already was a version of Little Hank, as he was now handing me—well, not every kind—many kinds of music. As much as I liked wandering the record store, I was ready to flee it so we could get home and start listening.
Little Hank and I rushed to catch up to the group. They had moved on to Soul/R&B. The bodyguards backed people away so we could slide into the inner circle.
“He’s getting Black music,” Little Hank said to me as Jimmy and Gabriel discussed different albums. “That’s what real musicians listen to.”
Gabriel handed Little Hank a stack of albums and Little Hank shuffled through them so I could see all of the choices.
“I’ve heard of Earth, Wind & Fire,” I said. “I think. Maybe not. Is there another band with a similar name?”
Little Hank thought I was hilarious. He laughed, shook his head, and showed me the rest of the albums: Al Green, Parliament, the Meters, the Isley Brothers, Sly and the Family Stone, Labelle, and Stevie Wonder.
“This guy is blind.” Little Hank nodded toward Stevie Wonder, on top of the pile. “And he plays piano. He’s cool. Everyone likes him.”
I’d heard of Stevie Wonder but hadn’t known he was blind. Maybe my mother would like him, since she believed that God had given blind and deaf people extra goodness since He took away one of their senses. A blind man attended our church and Mom always made sure he was seated near the front pew, close to our family, where she could help him in and out.