Battle Creek (eBook)
726 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-6030-5 (ISBN)
For years, Hal has been working to achieve his dream of forming a rock and roll band, but every time he gets a new member, they seem to acquire a new genre. With punk drummer Ryan, and metal-head Uli, (who ironically plays classical instruments), they only need one more man - a guitarist. After an unsuccessful day of searching at a music festival, a lone country guitarist catches Hal's eye as they eat dinner at a tavern. Country? Why not. That'll make a complete set. But, once guitarist Ricky joins them, they start getting hints that something is not quite right about him. He attracts animals like a magnet, frequently disappears at night, and doesn't seem to understand common aspects of modern daily life. As time passes and they start to find success in the music industry, the ability to keep brushing off Ricky's quirks becomes more difficult as evidence starts to mount. Finally, after a new 'talent' of Ricky's shows itself on the night of a big show, they can no longer make excuses. They need to find out what's going on. But, will forcing Ricky's secrets into the spotlight cause him to disappear into the night permanently, leaving the band in ruin without his incredible guitar playing skills? As leader, Hal has to try and reconcile fear and mistrust between his bandmates, and keep Ricky with them while also finding answers that could cause just as many problems as not knowing.
Chapter 2
(Bounce, Rock, Skate, Roll)
The crack of noon the next day found four hopeful musicians sitting in the living room of a modest craftsman house in the suburbs of Battle Creek, Michigan. The scene was a chaotic disarray of open luggage, dirty socks, empty soda cans, and half-eaten bags of potato chips.
“So, Ricky, have you ever played an electric guitar before?” Hal asked as he set a hinged case on the ground and pulled out a blue Fender Stratocaster.
“No, but kinda tried to play electric guitar-like stuff on a regular guitar.”
“Well, let’s see how well that practice translates onto the real thing,” Hal said as he handed it to him, then tossed the cord over to Uli, who plugged it into an amplifier. Ricky turned a few of the knobs, flipped the pickup switch a few times, and strummed a chord or two. “Feel ready for heavy metal yet?” Hal asked.
Ricky made some final adjustments to the settings, then immediately began plucking a fast pattern starting at the top of the neck of the guitar, then moving gradually down. He continued the complicated riff to nearly the highest frets at the bottom of the neck, then began to work his way back up again. His fingers were moving so fast they were nearly a blur, and when he finished, the room faded back to silence without anyone saying a word. Ryan raised both eyebrows in disbelief.
“Uh, was that okay?” Ricky finally asked.
“Um, yeah. That should… that should be fine for what we’re looking for,” Hal answered, trying to sound indifferent. He continued: “Um, so, I figured today maybe we could spend some time getting you acquainted with our original songs, and with some of the classics we cover too. Maybe you’ll already know some of them? Then, later, if you’re up for it, we could have a little jam session, and see if we come up with anything new and good. Adding a new person in always helps.”
“’Kay,” Ricky said.
“I’m actually feeling jam session first today,” Ryan said. “Just in that kind of mood.”
“Alright. That’s fine with me if it’s okay with you two,” Hal said, and Uli and Ricky both nodded.
“But first…” Ryan walked to the fridge and pulled out four bottles of beer, “…a bit of extra inspiration,” he said as he handed them over to Uli, Hal, and Ricky.
“Oh, no thanks,” Ricky said quietly. Ryan kept the bottle at the end of his outstretched arm in front of him.
“That’s real funny, Ricky. You’re kidding, right?” he said, then immediately realized from the uncomfortable look on Ricky’s face that it wasn’t a joke. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t tell me you don’t drink,” Ryan said.
“Uh… no…”
“Well, why not!?”
“Makes Ricky sick,” Ricky said quietly.
“Just one. One won’t make you sick.”
“It does…”
“Ryan, leave him alone,” Hal came to Ricky’s aid.
“Hal, how the hell are we supposed to get along if the guitarist won’t get shitfaced with us!? How are we supposed to compose anything decent if one of us is sober all the time? Don’t you get what this means for the band if he won’t drink!?”
“Uh, that y’all always have a designated driver and you can keep more of the beer for yourself?” Ricky interrupted. Hal and Uli struggled to keep a straight face while Ryan turned slowly to look back at Ricky. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“Prob’ly,” Ricky answered.
“ANYWAYS…” Hal interrupted, “…does anybody have something new they’ve come up with to start us off? And the rest of us can try to improvise something to go along with it? Ryan, you’re the one in the jamming mood, you got something?”
“Sure, why not,” Ryan said as he popped the cap off the bottle and sat down at his drum set. “I’m in a fast mood today, so I hope the rest of you can keep up,” he said as he started pounding a beat on his drums.
The squeak of the door opening a couple hours later was lost to the sound of music flowing from the living room. Cecilia set the bags of produce down in the entry and stood as a silent observer while pieces of a song came into existence. After a couple of minutes, she slipped unnoticed into the kitchen.
“Alright, let’s see how far we can get this time,” Hal said.
“Okay, here we go… 1, 2, 3!” Ryan shouted.
- “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)” by R. E. M.
The drumbeat exploded through the quiet room, quickly followed by Ricky’s guitar and Uli’s keyboard. It was a very fast paced song, and Hal sang his lines as quickly as he could without getting tongue-tied. Cecilia peeked out from around the corner and watched them again for a bit. Hal suddenly stopped singing when he noticed her, and the other three lost the rhythm one at a time and stopped as well.
End Song 7
“Oh, sorry guys, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Cecilia said.
“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting you there. When’d you get back?” Hal asked.
“About ten minutes ago. How long have you boys been at it?”
“Since noon.”
“The creative juices are flowing freely, I see.”
“Oh, yes,” Hal said.
“Amongst other things…” Cecilia said, eyeing the empty bottles on the floor.
“We’ll clean it all up,” Hal said.
“I know,” Cecilia said. “But this is your friendly reminder that you should consider putting something else in your stomachs besides beer. You want me to make you all lunch?”
“No, no, Mom. You made dinner last night. I’m the one who works in a restaurant. I’ll make something,” Hal said as he got up and made his way to the kitchen. “What do you want? Your choice.”
“How about a Turkey sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. Make some for you and your friends, too, to offset all the junk food.”
“Coming up,” Hal said as he began to grab supplies out of the fridge. Cecilia turned around with a smug smile on her face, and flashed a quick thumbs up to the rest of the room. They took a short break to eat, then went back to working on the song. They spent the rest of the afternoon making scattered progress on pieces of three different songs, and barely noticed the day had gone by until well after dark. By midnight, Ryan was passed out on the couch, and Ricky’s fingers were sore and bleeding from the new steel guitar strings.
“Your fingers going to be okay, man?” Hal asked.
“Yeah. They’ll heal,” Ricky answered.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention, but you should have said something before they got that bad. I didn’t realize your acoustic guitar had nylon strings.”
“It’s fine. Didn’t really wanna stop playing anyways.”
“Alright, well, maybe we can just spend a few hours writing lyrics or something tomorrow before I have to go back to work on Sunday,” Hal said, downing the last inch of the beer at the bottom of the bottle he was holding. “It’d be best to not keep re-opening the wounds every day.”
“Yeah, prob’ly not,” Ricky agreed.
“I’m going to bed,” Uli mumbled.
“Me too,” Hal said. He stood up abruptly and there was a loud pop. He paused for a moment before slowly bending backwards to stretch out his back. “Crap, that didn’t feel like twelve hours until now.”
“Should someone wake him up so he can go to bed?” Ricky asked, looking at Ryan.
“Nah. He behaves himself when he’s asleep. Let’s not ruin it,” Hal said as he gathered up all his notes. Ricky set the guitar gently against the wall and reached down and flicked off the amp. Uli unplugged his keyboard and started to fold up the stand. Hal waited at the edge of the room until both of them finished, then turned off the light as they headed upstairs. “’Night all,” he said at the top as they split to go to their separate rooms.
“’Night,” they both answered back.
Hal woke up a few hours later feeling the effects of all the beer he drank and got up to stagger down the hall to the bathroom. The subtle thunk of the front door closing stopped him dead in his tracks. He quietly grabbed a thick wood baseball bat out of the closet, and glanced around the corner down the stairs just in time to see a figure wearing a raccoon hat jog out of sight around the street corner. His hopes sank. Shit… shit, shit, shit… He thought to himself. Was it the incident with the beer? He seemed like everything was fine after that… He walked halfway back down the hall and peered into Ricky’s room. All his luggage was still half-unpacked on the floor. He wouldn’t leave without his stuff, right? He looked back out the screen on the upper half of the metal door. What the hell? Did I just imagine that? He tried to recall the number of beers he had earlier, but kept losing count after four. Confused, he gave up and decided to figure it all out in the morning, and headed back down the hall towards the bathroom.
When he next awoke, the sun was beating down on his bed through the upper window. When he got up to close the blinds, he remembered what he had seen earlier that night, and ran silently towards the guest bedroom. He peered...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 1.5.2023 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Literatur |
| ISBN-10 | 1-6678-6030-5 / 1667860305 |
| ISBN-13 | 978-1-6678-6030-5 / 9781667860305 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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