The Last Smile In Sunder City
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“There’s a new band in town,” the man said, his voice muffled by the paper bag he was holding to his face. “They’re called The Shimmering Sea.”
“Sounds like a folk group,” I said, flipping through the papers on my desk. “What makes them special?”
“Their lead singer is the woman who sings with that pop group.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “It’s rumored they’re going to be big.”
“And you want me to get their autographs for you.”
He nodded, taking another bite of his sandwich. “I know it’s not much, but it’ll help you out in the future.”
“Yeah, if I ever make it to the future,” I said, tucking away my phone and opening the file folder on my desk.
“You don’t think you can do it, do you?” he asked, watching me closely.
I glanced up at him. “Why would I think that?”
“Because you’re young,” he said, standing up from his chair. “But you’re a good kid, really. You’ve got the talent. I just hate to see you wasting your time here.”
I smiled and reached for the file. “Thanks for the encouragement. What did you say the name of this band was again?”
“The Shimmering Sea,” he repeated, nodding as he walked past me toward the door. “Well, keep it up. We’ll talk soon.”
***
I left the office after the lunchtime rush and headed for the record store. It was just before four o’clock, so there were still a few people around. The air smelled of smoke and coffee and the scent of vinyl.
The first thing I did when I got inside grabbed a cup of coffee from the counter and head for the back room. I pulled off my jacket and threw it onto the table.
“Hey, Kaitlyn,” I said, setting the cup down on the table.
She grinned. “Hi, Cal. What’s up?”
“Just came to check on a few things,” I said, pulling out the three band photos I’d been given earlier.
“What are you working on?” she asked, leaning over the table and examining the photos.
“The Shimmering Sea,” I said, handing her one of the photos. “They’re playing tomorrow night. I want to get their autographs for the kids.”
Kaitlyn looked up at me. “Whoa. That’s some heavy stuff. Why do you need to get their autographs?”
“The boss thinks they’ll be big someday.”
“Well, maybe he’s right,” she said, sliding the photo into a plastic sleeve and placing it in the book.
“Maybe,” I agreed, picking up another photo. “Anyway, I also want to see if anyone has seen them around the city. I want to know where they live.”
“And what are you going to do with all this information?”
I shrugged. “If they’re famous enough, I might be able to get their autograph for free.”
She laughed. “You’re crazy, Cal.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a living,” I said, pulling out the third photo. “And I’m not paying for anything.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll probably end up paying for that autograph, too.” She pulled out a few more photos and slid them into the sleeve. “It’s just a good idea to keep your eyes open and watch out for these guys. They might be young, but they have a lot of money.”
“That’s why I’m watching them,” I said, taking the last photo from her and sliding it into the sleeve. “And besides, I’ll be doing my job.”
“What about your own music?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Music is my hobby. This is my job.”
“Well, when you get famous, I’ll buy you an autograph,” she said, leaning over the table and giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks,” I said, pulling away from her.
“How about I buy you one now?” she asked, pulling out a record and handing it to me.
“What is it?”
“It’s the new album by The Shimmering Sea.”
I glanced at the cover. It was the band, standing in front of a dark stage with their instruments behind them. The lead singer stood center-stage, holding a microphone.
“Why would you give me something like this?” I asked, setting it down on the table.
“Because I think you might be right,” she said, pushing it toward me. “They’re good.”
“So you bought it just because I might be right?”
“No, I bought it because I liked it,” she said, moving away from the table. “And besides, I want to hear what you think of it.”
“Okay,” I said, picking up the album and turning it over. “I’ll give it a listen.”
Kaitlyn gave me a smile and headed for the door. “I’ll be back after work.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Yeah, a big hug,” she said, smiling as she turned toward me. “See you later.”
***
The next morning, I woke up early. I had a lot to do before the show and needed to make sure everything was perfect.
I went out to the truck and pulled out the case containing the drumsticks and other stuff I’d found in the back of the van. I locked up the van and took the drumsticks inside, placing them in my desk.
The next thing I did was make a phone call. I called the manager of the club where The Shimmering Sea was playing.
“Hey, Eric,” I said, sliding into the booth. “Got a minute?”
“What’s up?” he asked, leaning forward over the counter.
“I’ve got some questions about the band,” I said, taking a sip of coffee. “You know, in case they’re big someday.”
Eric laughed. “Sure, Cal. What do you need?”
“How many people are there in the band?” I asked.
“Eight, maybe nine,” he said. “We’ve been around for a few years now.”
“How much do they pay for an autograph?”
“Not a lot,” he said. “Usually a buck or two.”
“Any idea where they live?”
“Just the club,” he said. “And we don’t get that many requests.”
“Did you see them at all yesterday?”
“No, but I saw their van outside. It was parked across the street.”
“Can you tell me who’s in charge?”
“Well, I don’t know his name, but he’s usually the one holding the microphone.”
“Is he older, younger, black, or white?”
“Black, I guess,” Eric said. “He looks like a professional musician.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said, standing up.
“Thanks for calling,” Eric said. “If you have any more questions, just give me a call.”
I took the rest of my coffee with me and headed back to the apartment. I made a pot of coffee and pulled out the album.
I sat down on the couch, sipping on the coffee and listening to music. After a few minutes, I started to get the impression that The Shimmering Sea might be onto something.
I put the album down and picked up the phone. I dialed a number from memory.
“Hello?” a man answered.
“Do you know a band called The Shimmering Sea?” I asked.
“Who is this?” he asked, sounding irritated.
“Cal,” I said. “From the club.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said, smiling. “You’re the one who thought I might be right about those guys.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure yet,” I said. “But I’m thinking I might be.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if I’m right, I’ll buy you a beer.”
“A beer? You’re talking to a guy who owns a bar.”
“Well, it won’t be the best beer in town, but it will be free.”
“All right,” he said. “What do you want to know?”
“Where are they from?”
“They live here,” he said. “Why?”
“Nothing, just curious.”
“The drummer’s name is Donny,” he said. “And the bass player’s name is Sean.”
“Thank you, Mr. Riggs,” I said. “That was very helpful.”
“Cal, you don’t have to buy me a beer,” he said.
“I know,” I said, hanging up.
I finished my coffee and headed out of the apartment. I took a cab to the club and paid for parking. The band was playing at eight o’clock, so I had plenty of time.
I parked the truck in the back lot and went inside. I grabbed a stool near the stage and ordered a beer. It wasn’t long before the bartender brought it over.
“Hi, Cal,” he said. “What can I get you?”
“Just the usual,” I said. “No need to get fancy.”
He gave me a smile. “How are things?”
“Fine,” I said. “Did you see any of the band yesterday?”
“Yes, they were here,” he said. “And they signed autographs for the kids. I was on the other side of the room, so I didn’t get to talk to them, but they seemed nice enough.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll pay you later.”
“Sure, Cal,” he said. “Enjoy the show.”
I sipped on the beer and listened to the music. I couldn’t believe how good the band sounded. It was almost like listening to a professional group. The lead singer’s voice was haunting, and the guitar work was beautiful. They were having fun on stage, and their energy made me want to get up and dance.
It wasn’t until the end of the set that I finally saw the lead singer. He was standing in the center of the stage, holding his microphone and smiling. He turned and looked right at me. I could see him now.
Donny.
I knew it.
I stood up and walked over to the bar. I ordered another beer and waited for the band to finish. When they were done, I got their attention and handed them each a business card.
“The owner of this bar has asked me to check out your band,” I said. “He thinks you might be onto something.”
“What makes you think we’re not?” Donny asked, taking the card.
“Well, you’ve been playing around town for about six months, and I haven’t heard of you before now,” I said. “That’s why I’m calling.”
“We just started last year,” Sean said. “So it’s understandable you wouldn’t have heard us before.”
“Does that mean you want to hire us?” Donny asked.
“Yeah, if you want to,” I said. “You know, pay for your time and all.”
They both smiled. “Sure,” Sean said. “What do you want to hear?”
“Let’s start with something easy,” I said. “Something you can play on the first take.”
I gave them the chords to “Danger Zone” by Kenny Loggins. I watched as they played it, then took a sip of my beer.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Well, we did it once,” Donny said. “But it’s kind of hard to keep going.”
“How about ‘Rock and Roll All Nite by Kiss?” I suggested. “It’s pretty simple.”
“That’s a good idea,” Sean said. “We can do that.”
I handed them the chords and sat back down. They began to play, and I closed my eyes and listened. The lead singer had an amazing voice. And the way he sang the words was so different from the original.
“Now what?” I asked after the song ended.
“That’s one of our best,” Sean said. “And it’s kind of short.”
“Okay,” I said. “Give me something else.”
They switched instruments and began playing again. I watched as they switched back and forth between guitar and drums. I’d never seen anyone do that before. It was a little like watching a three-legged race. But instead of two legs, it was a couple of hands.
They played three more songs, and then I handed them another card.
“What do you want to hear next?” Donny asked.
“Anything you want,” I said. “Just give me something that blows my mind.”
Sean looked at his bandmates and then back at me. “How about ‘Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple?”
“You don’t say,” I said. “Let’s see how you do.”
I sat back and listened to their rendition of the classic rock tune. They sounded great, and the crowd loved it. By the end of the song, there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.
After the encore, I handed them each another card. “I’d like to work with you guys,” I said. “We’ll get together and talk about what we can do.”
“Are you sure?” Donny asked. “This is a lot of money.”
“Yes,” I said. “But I’m serious. You guys have something special here. I think we can make a real go of this.”
“Okay,” Sean said. “When do we start?”
“Tomorrow night,” I said. “Come by the bar around nine o’clock and we’ll talk.”
The End