When did he become so irrational? Rey nearly talked himself out of his promise to the members of the band called Malaprop. He had enough of sullen teenagers in a normal work day. He didn’t even like taking students during the summer. So why must he associate with them now?
But a promise is a promise. He wasn’t going to back down. When he walked into the building where the practice rooms could be rented, he put aside his irrational reaction. From the laughter coming from an open door at the back, these kids were anything but sullen.
“So I said I’d pay fifty a month to get them out of the house,” said a brassy looking blonde with roots showing at her hairline. She leaned against a credenza on the back wall of an office. “So here I am.”
“But we aren’t that bad,” said a mousy girl Rey didn’t recognize an a quiet, hurt voice.
“Damn right we aren’t,” said the thug who played keyboard like an angel. “Dan, you know me. Would I hook up with just any old band?”
“No,” the guy who obviously ran the place said as he moved a paper weight from one side of his desk to another. “Not you.”
“I never said you weren’t good,” the brassy blonde said. “I said you were loud. There’s a difference.” She held up an index finger as she made her point.
“Oh. You’re here.” Tracy leaned around the brassy blonde to look through the open office door at him. “This is the guy who is going to pay the other fifty a month.” She pointed right at Rey.
He kind of liked lurking in the hall, but couldn’t very well continue this way. He stepped into the office and found himself surrounded. He hadn’t realized that both of the drummers, and the guitarist were also here. Along with the keyboard, bass guitar, the mousy girl and the brassy woman putting up money they filled office. The only one missing was their fantastic lead singer.
He looked again at the mousy girl. Same girl who came out of the bathroom right after the talent show that had blown him away.
“You wouldn’t happen to have worn a mask during the concert, would you?”
The mousy girl blushed a bright pink and everyone else laughed. Rey groaned. How could he have missed it? But how could he have known when the difference between that bold, rich-voiced vixen in the mask differed so much from this self effacing child?
“Masks are good for you,” he muttered.
“So, you see, we were telling the truth. We have two people willing to pay for our practice room rental. A hundred a month. We’ve got it covered.”
“One hundred a month is the price of our smallest rooms. A band your size isn’t going to fit.” Dan didn’t look happy about it.
The brassy woman and Rey looked at each other. No way she’d come up with more, and Rey had already gone out on a limb to offer this much. But maybe it was for the best for the deal to fall through.
“I can come up with ten a month,” Justin said.
Justin was a good kid. He’d played timpani in the band for all three years. He memorized his part quickly and played seriously at every class. Rey hoped he continued to take band in high school. Yet he was willing to put his meager allowance on the line for this band. It made Rey feel chastened.
“I can come up with more than that, but I never know when or how much,” the thug said.
Tracy nodded like this was only to be expected. “I’ll help if you want, but I never get any money at all. I’m lucky to have a roof over my head.”
“I have some saved,” the guitarist said. “I never felt right spending Mrs. H’s money, so I just kept it.”
“No, Gene. That’s for you to use for yourself.”
“This is for myself.” The guitarist gave the brassy blonde a piercing look.
Everyone jumped in with an offer, but when the dust settled, there was no real guarantee the room rent would be covered.
“If you’re good enough and if Bruce here plans to use his connections to line up some gigs, I could maybe let the extra cost slide for a while.” Dan fished some keys from a desk drawer as he stood up. “Let me show you what’s available.”
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When did he become so irrational? Rey nearly talked himself out of his promise to the members of the band called Malaprop. He had enough of sullen teenagers in a normal work day. He didn’t even like taking students during the summer. So why must he associate with them now?
But a promise is a promise. He wasn’t going to back down. When he walked into the building where the practice rooms could be rented, he put aside his irrational reaction. From the laughter coming from an open door at the back, these kids were anything but sullen.
“So I said I’d pay fifty a month to get them out of the house,” said a brassy looking blonde with roots showing at her hairline. She leaned against a credenza on the back wall of an office. “So here I am.”
“But we aren’t that bad,” said a mousy girl Rey didn’t recognize an a quiet, hurt voice.
“Damn right we aren’t,” said the thug who played keyboard like an angel. “Dan, you know me. Would I hook up with just any old band?”
“No,” the guy who obviously ran the place said as he moved a paper weight from one side of his desk to another. “Not you.”
“I never said you weren’t good,” the brassy blonde said. “I said you were loud. There’s a difference.” She held up an index finger as she made her point.
“Oh. You’re here.” Tracy leaned around the brassy blonde to look through the open office door at him. “This is the guy who is going to pay the other fifty a month.” She pointed right at Rey.
He kind of liked lurking in the hall, but couldn’t very well continue this way. He stepped into the office and found himself surrounded. He hadn’t realized that both of the drummers, and the guitarist were also here. Along with the keyboard, bass guitar, the mousy girl and the brassy woman putting up money they filled office. The only one missing was their fantastic lead singer.
He looked again at the mousy girl. Same girl who came out of the bathroom right after the talent show that had blown him away.
“You wouldn’t happen to have worn a mask during the concert, would you?”
The mousy girl blushed a bright pink and everyone else laughed. Rey groaned. How could he have missed it? But how could he have known when the difference between that bold, rich-voiced vixen in the mask differed so much from this self effacing child?
“Masks are good for you,” he muttered.
“So, you see, we were telling the truth. We have two people willing to pay for our practice room rental. A hundred a month. We’ve got it covered.”
“One hundred a month is the price of our smallest rooms. A band your size isn’t going to fit.” Dan didn’t look happy about it.
The brassy woman and Rey looked at each other. No way she’d come up with more, and Rey had already gone out on a limb to offer this much. But maybe it was for the best for the deal to fall through.
“I can come up with ten a month,” Justin said.
Justin was a good kid. He’d played timpani in the band for all three years. He memorized his part quickly and played seriously at every class. Rey hoped he continued to take band in high school. Yet he was willing to put his meager allowance on the line for this band. It made Rey feel chastened.
“I can come up with more than that, but I never know when or how much,” the thug said.
Tracy nodded like this was only to be expected. “I’ll help if you want, but I never get any money at all. I’m lucky to have a roof over my head.”
“I have some saved,” the guitarist said. “I never felt right spending Mrs. H’s money, so I just kept it.”
“No, Gene. That’s for you to use for yourself.”
“This is for myself.” The guitarist gave the brassy blonde a piercing look.
Everyone jumped in with an offer, but when the dust settled, there was no real guarantee the room rent would be covered.
“If you’re good enough and if Bruce here plans to use his connections to line up some gigs, I could maybe let the extra cost slide for a while.” Dan fished some keys from a desk drawer as he stood up. “Let me show you what’s available.”
If you enjoy Suzie’s House and would like to see more, please leave a comment. Suzie’s House is powered by its readers.
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