SOUND
(Seducer Part 2 - Chapter 33 of Senses)
As he had in the days before he met Karen, Jim worked in his basement studio alone. He would abide no outside interference and would lock the access door when he entered. The only other person with a key was A.J., and their project of two years earlier aside A.J. knew better then to enter while Jim worked.
An old friend of Jim's, Scott David, had helped him design and build this studio so that Jim could work alone. Jim could control the recording console with an elaborate set of foot pedals that he could move about the studio, and Jim would mix as he worked. With this set up Jim could work quickly, and would often finish a song in less than four hours.
Jim was working on a song he had written that same morning that brought a smile to his face every time he played it. The song's content was sobering to hear, as it was written in the style Jane's Addiction used on their second album. What brought out the smile was the title - "Saint Christopher". Jim knew the critics would jump all over it as being self absorbent, but the song was not. Not even close.
Jim tuned his twelve-string guitar and began to play the song. Once he felt he had rehearsed enough, he set up a tape on the 24-track console and set up the single microphone to record the guitar track. Once done, he put a test tone on the tape for later mastering purposes and check his levels on the mixing console. Once done he killed the air conditioner and entered the sound room, pulling up his guitar to begin playing.
Jim turned on the recording console and set the tape machine into motion, saying, "One...two...three..." Four was silent.
He strummed the first chord solidly on his guitar and broke three strings; the low E snapping around and cutting the back of Jim's left hand. He looked at his hand and his guitar in complete surprise. After a moment he looked to his right hand and saw why the strings broke.
Instead of a guitar pick, Jim held in his hand a razor blade, picked up from his editing console.
He stomped around the room for several moments after setting down both his guitar and the blade, shouting, "Shitshitfuckdamnshit! Where the fuck is my mind today?" Finally he sat down against a wall and began to laugh. "All right Paul, you win. I'm overworked!"
He waited a few minutes before getting up again, first checking his hand to see that the bleeding stopped. When he did finally stand he began to laugh again. He checked his watch and decided to take the day off to head for the bar. It would be extraordinarily early for him, but he decided it would be better than trying another take. He shut down the studio and threw away the razor blade, heading for his car.
When Jim arrived at the bar he was pleasantly surprised to find Angie serving the drinks. Angie handed Jim a Bushmill's which Jim quickly drank.
"So we meet again," he said.
Angie poured another drink. "See what happens when you wake up earlier?" she replied.
"Just finished work earlier than usual, and thanks Angie."
"You're welcome. And for your information, I work 3 a.m. to 1 p.m. Mike handles the rest."
"I didn't ask," Jim said, sipping his second drink.
"But you were curious," Angie shot back.
Jim smiled his ironic smile. "Well then, if you can read me so well, tell me more."
Angie picked up a glass to clean. "I don't do mind reading," she replied, "but if you do want to know, Joshua a.k.a. Mike owns the bar and tends bar during the long afternoon and evening shifts. I'm here at other times and I handle the books. I guess you could say that I'm the manager. We don't make enough money for more than that."
"You've been lucky this place doesn't need a bouncer," Jim commented.
"Damn lucky."
Jim had finished his drink. "Tell me this," he said. "I've been coming here for years. Why have I not met you before?"
"More luck. Good or bad, take your pick."
"Bad. Get my darts, would you?"
Angie set the glass down and reached below the bar. "At least I agree in your choice about luck," she said, handing Jim the darts. "Although I will give you the benefit of the doubt and point out that I've only been here a few weeks. You know, I would have liked to have met you before you became attached."
Jim laughed. "You trying to pick me up?" he asked.
"Why not?" Angie replied. "Girl can pick up on a guy as easily as a guy on a girl."
Jim sighed and shook his head.
"What's that about?" Angie asked.
"Darlin', if you could only see how obvious you're being. Pour me another."
As she did, Angie asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Jim sipped the offered drink. "Price of fame," he said. "People try to pick up on me often, regardless of the fact that I'm no longer on the market. Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm so used to it that it's almost boring."
"Too bad," Angie said as Jim finished the Bushmill's. "You have a cute ass, too."
Jim laughed. "from the shape of things, you have nice tits. Everything balances out." Jim stepped away from the bar.
"Where you going?"
"Dartboard," Jim replied. "I want to practice my triple eighteens."
"Have fun."
"I'll try."
Jim stepped up to the line and threw a round of bullseyes for practice. He then retrieved his darts and began targeting his shots. He practiced until the night bartender arrived, not missing a single throw.
Jim became aware of the world again when Angie was standing beside him, having been relieved from her shift. "I'm off now," she said. "Want to go someplace?"
Jim laughed. "You don't give up, do you?" he responded.
"You set your goals and go for it."
Jim collected his darts to return them. "You make me sound like a trophy."
Angie smiled and took the darts, returning them to the bar and grabbing an already poured Bushmill's. "Thanks Mike," she said to the bartender. She turned to Jim and handed him the drink. "A prize for the prize," she said.
Jim gulped the drink. "How do you intend to win?"
"Haven't worked that out yet. But I will."
"I'm almost flattered."
Angie smiled. "Good," she said.
Jim raised an eyebrow and smiled his ironic smile. "Mrs. Robinson, you're trying to seduce me," he remarked.
Angie gave Jim a playful shove. "Watch that 'Mrs. Robinson' stuff there buster. We're both approaching thirty."
"That's not what I meant and you know it. you're trying to determine my fuckability."
"I wouldn't put it so crudely but that's the general idea."
Jim shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, "but my fuckability has been claimed by someone. Exclusively."
"And you expect me to accept that?" Angie asked.
"That's right."
"But..."
"Why are you being so persistent?" Jim asked. "How many times do I have to say..."
"Jim!" The bartender interrupted with a shout.
"Yo, Mike!" Jim shouted back.
"Phone!"
"Bring it over!" There was an embarrassing silence as the bartender brought over the phone, but Jim was glad for the distraction. He took the offered phone and winked at the bartender. "Jim here."
"Hey big bro', thought you'd be there."
Jim stifled a laugh. "Your timing is impeccable as usual. What's up?"
There was a silence, then A.J. spoke. "Timing? What's going on over there?"
"I needed the distraction."
"You know, I've got to work more on my visual scan of audio waves. You can't get any good equations through a phone line."
Jim laughed. "Make a note of it. Why'd you call?"
"Come up to my place," A.J. replied. "I want you to see why I placed that bet."
Jim nodded. "On my way."
"Curiosity got to you, huh?"
"Damn straight. See you in a few." Jim heard A.J. hang up and handed back the phone.
As Jim turned to leave, Angie blocked his path. "Leaving?" she asked.
"Looks that way," Jim responded.
"Don't I even get a goodbye kiss?"
Jim laughed, more to himself than aloud, then smiled his ironic smile. He stooped enough to be face to face with Angie, only an inch from her face. He paused a moment, looking into her eyes.
"No," he said.
He stood and walked from the bar, not even looking back
to see if Angie was making faces at him.