The Wheel was an original Providence, RI band playing an eclectic mix of blues, folk, groove and rock & roll. The Wheel played in and around the Providence, RI area frequently in 2002 and 2003.

The band

Tod McKenna – vocals, bass
Nando Neves – vocals, percussion
Brendan O’Tool – vocals, guitar
Shu-Wei Tan – vocals, keyboards

The Story of How it All Came to Be (In 3 Parts)

Part I – The Meeting

In the backwoods of Ohidaho lived an infamous deer hunter, Elooto Nadnerb. With his keen eyes, merciless attitude and impeccable skill, he quickly gained the reputation of being the greatest hunter in all of the land. He lived deep in the woods along a river that’s fed by an underground pool of crystal clear water. In his parlor (a rubber, octagon room no less) rests the stuffed heads of deer, bear, wilder beast, buffalo, fox, prairie dog and field mouse. He has worked hard over the years for this amazing collection. There is one creature, though that eludes him to this day; a furry little being that manages to keep off his wall: The rabbit.

Nadnerb needed help. In all his years he has managed to trap, shoot, knife, corner, poke, slap, and dance with the greatest of beasts on his own. He isn’t getting any younger so now is the time to look for aid. He knew that he must head into town and gather a group of strong-willed men to aid him in his quest.

So one day at Phoebe’s (a local seafood restaurant in a pleasant location), Nadnerb was seated alone mumbling nonsense to himself. Little did he know that sitting in the next booth was Commander Seven. C7, as he is called in his native land, is a classy, well-dressed individual best known for his many gadgets and electronic toys. Today, he is trying out his new mini-gyrokryoespionager (model GKE-4229er). This device can translate languages on the fly and send the translated transmissions directly into a chip in embedded in his head. He was eavesdropping on Nadnerb.

After a few frustrating minutes, C7 finally decided to intercede. With his tall, slender frame he leaned over the divider separating the booths: “Excuse me sir, may I ask what you are mumbling about?”

“What?” a surprised Nadnerb scowled.

“I mean…You look a little silly mumbling all this nonsense to yourself! I’m sure everyone here can hear you. My name is Seven, Commander Seven.”

“I am Elooto Nadnerb, great deer hunter of Ohidaho.” Nadnerb said with pride while pumping his fist twice in the air.”

“What seems to be on your mind, Nadnerb’ great deer hunter of Ohidaho’”, asked C7.

“I’m here to find a group of men to help me hunt rabbit. You are a commander, have you ever hunt rabbit before?”

“No sir, I have only hunted the Verize Huns – a foul race of beasts that speak only in the static tongue. I was a great commander in the fifth brigade. I have many medals, some of which look great under a black light. As far as rabbit hunting goes, I have no experience. Perhaps there is information online that we can download.”

“Really? What is this, ‘on-line’ you speak of?” questioned Nadnerb.

“I know little of it myself, but I do know of a man who knows a lot about it.” Replied C7

Nadnerb looked over to C7 with a curious eye, “And this downloading may give me the help I need?”

“I would suspect so.” Assured C7.

“Ok then C7, I would be honored to have your help in hunting the rabbit.”

After taking a seat, C7 explains to Nadnerb who he thinks may help, “His name is Schwat-Em Pale, a mystical man from the highest peek of the Blue Ridge Mountains.” C7 leans in toward Nadnerb and whispers, “I think he dabbles in sorcery.”

“Really?” grinned Nadnerb, “Cool. I like stuff like that!”

“Oh yeah, me too. I think he is living just south of Lexietown near an old diamond mine.”

They sat together for an hour or so and talked strategy. After a few drinks and a head of lettuce, a man approached them from across the room. He was wearing baggy pants, a flannel shirt, a fisherman’s hat and a blue scarf. His big reddish beard completely obscured his lips. “Hello strangers, I am Pigeon-Toad.”

“You are?” asked C7, looking down at his feet.

“No, that is my name. Pigeon-Toad. I come from a long line of Toad’s. My father, Long-Toad was a great poet. You may have heard of him?”

“No.” C7 and Nadnerb replied in unison.

“Well, anyway I overheard your conversation about rabbit hunting. I have traveled throughout the western frontier. I have worked as a farmhand, built rafts and traveled the nations longest river. I know many things and have been many places. Now I am living back east but would like to embark on one final adventure. If I can help in any way, I would love to be involved.”

Nadnerb and C7 look at each other not sure of what to make of the stranger.

“Come on now, let’s be not as blank. Am I in?” asked toad once again.

After another moment of silence C7 asked, “Do you know where Lexietown is?”

“Why, yes I do. I had a girlfriend there once. Her name was Louise. I gotta tell you, her daddy hate me!” letting out a big chuckle.

Nadnerb stood up as straight as he could and extended his hand, “Welcome Pigeon-Toad. I would love to have your help in hunting the ever-elusive rabbit. We will need your help. Please join us.”

Toad sat down and the three men talked into the night. The next day they packed, and repacked. Organized and reorganized. They would need to travel to Lexietown at noon – a journey that would take a day and a half. Most of which would be on boat across the Funky Sea. They still have not figured out how to convince this great Schwat-Em Pale to help them get online and download. The three men had nothing to offer him. To make matters worse, Nadnerb feared that without his help, hunting rabbit would be almost impossible.

In a dark room with grey walls and cobblestone floors, cluttered with beakers, vials, glasses and burners, sits a diminutive man hunched over a glass sphere. His long white hair, tiny glasses and billowing robe make him look just as mysterious as his name suggests, for he is The Great Mysterious Schwat-Em Pale.

“Ah, indeed they come fo me. I must get weady”, he says in a weak, raspy voice.

He looks deep into his milky sphere, scratching his chin vigorously. Then with a quick move he reaches to a bookcase fifteen feet away. A single book floats toward his outstretched arm. “I must get weady.”