Suzie’s House 321 : Like Axel Rose, or Something

If she’d known it was going to happen, Emma would have worn a mask. So obvious; she didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before. Of course the teacher would recognize her if she showed up and the mystery singer for Malaprop didn’t.

”Don’t worry. He isn’t going to say anything,” Justin said with a smile. “Right, Mr. Ungar?”

“Hmh?” The band teacher looked over at them while they walked down the hall, but you could tell he’d rather be talking to the guy who was going to let them rent a practice room.

“Emma needs to know you won’t ever tell anyone that she’s our singer. If you can’t promise that, we might lose her.”

“Really? Oh. Then certainly, I’ll keep it to myself.” He went into the practice room with barely a glance at her.

Like a promise made Emma feel better. It wasn’t like she could be all serene and fearless the way everyone else in the band seemed to be. If anyone knew it was her on stage, she’d die of embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s not like any of us antacided that he’d recognize you.” Tracy hovered by the doorway while everyone else went in.

“You mean ‘anticipated’,” Justin automatically corrected. He went in.

“Yeah. That word.” Tracy waved everyone else through, then waited for Emma.

The room was about the size of Emma’s bedroom, which wasn’t much. Not when you had to fit two sets of drums along with six bodies in it, though the school stage hadn’t been much bigger.

Imagine everybody having to rub up against each other. It would be like a musical orgy. Emma put her hand over her mouth and looked down because she could feel her face get hot and she didn’t want anyone to see her grin. There were singers who did that kind of thing. They’d get all raunchy with the other guys on stage. Could she do that?

In her mind she was Axel Rose, only toying with everyone in the room, not just one. Wouldn’t Justin be shocked? Or Tracy. That would be something, shocking someone like Tracy. Even Gene… No. Emma was pretty sure nothing would shock Gene.

She came out of her reverie to catch phrases like, “…and this is one of the bigger ones.” and “That still leaves you $30 per month short.” So maybe they were back in Mrs. Hammaker’s living room. Except one of the people with them today was someone willing to pay for them to not be there.

Did that mean the band wouldn’t have a place to practice? And if they couldn’t get together to practice, would they still be a band? Emma felt a sudden chill. Maybe… maybe she actually needed the band.

“Tell you what I’ll do,” said the guy renting out the practice rooms. “Play for me right now. If I like the way you sound, I’ll let you have it for six month at only a hundred a month. That’s less than half what I normally charge. After six months you play in my concert for free and we’ll call it even.”

“But we don’t have our instruments,” Kate said.

“I do.” Bruce grinned and patted his backpack.

“I can’t fit my drum kit in a backpack,” Kate snapped.

“I have instruments. Come this way.” The rental guy led them out to a room with a huge window on one side and recording equipment on the other.

There was only one set of drums. Kate and Justin had a stare off. Emma was kind of surprised when Justin backed down because Kate wasn’t normally that pushy. With a ‘tsk’ he said, “I’ll do percussion.” He grabbed some weird kind of bell.

Next thing Emma knew, the whole band was ready, but what about her? She didn’t have a microphone, or even a mask. Could she really sing like this? No one even asked her to. They just kind of looked at her like they knew already and didn’t expect anything, and just played without her.

Afterward the rental guy looked down and pursed his lips for a long time. “Well, that wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. But you have to have something real special to make it in the music biz. I’m not sure….”

“You haven’t heard her sing yet.” Mr. Ungar pointed at Emma. “That’ll make all the difference.”

“What?” The word burst out of Emma’s strangled throat out of sheer panic.

“Don’t worry. I got this,” Bruce said with a grin. He reached in his backpack and pulled out a mask.

This one was pink satin with a fringe of the kind of dangly string you’d see on an old fashioned lamp and a row of feathers along the top. It was silly and stupid, and Emma loved it.

“So you got no excuse now,” Bruce said. “You’ll sing, right?”

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