The Tolerance Wars - 25
long second shift
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begin at the beginning—Chapter 1
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The Tolerance Wars
25.
long second shift
Two weeks in and the amazing continued.
We’d caught two brand new full band grooves that the singer felt she could work with later in a separate voice-only session at myplace, done with a scratch track of the lady in motion just to help us lesser mortals keep track of where we were while we were laying it down, though as usual there was some serious first take magic going on in the vocals. We spent most of one day finally settling on an approach to one of our favourite live pieces, a thing that’d taken so many different forms we’d maybe lost track of its beating heart while we turned it over and over just to show how many different ways it could sparkle in different light. And we got multiple fine takes of “Rain Me”, a new song that Tony taught us all to play and finished writing while the crew were sorting it out on the shop floor. “Gonna rain me,” she sang in the takes, sounding like a love song, but delivered so you couldn’t decide whether she was a gentle rain that soothed the soul or an acid rain that flayed the skin and left you with permanent scars. Because love can be like that. And we set ourselves up to start the next day with a free-flow of words and grooveage that might give the listener a sense of what we were like at full stretch in a live gig.
All of which was amazing. In all the ways.
Like all good sustained working sessions, we found ourselves evolving a natural pattern. In the morning I unlocked, turned on the gear and set the tubes to warm up, started coffee, sat down at the screen and made blank files on the system so we could press record whenever we were ready without any fussing around that would slow us down, then headed out to the shop floor to shift cables power up amps and clear away whatever was necessary to make it all feel like the space was ready for a new day. By the time I was done all that Tony would be sitting in the front office control room, coffee would be ready, and we’d sit for a minute to connect, get a sense of where we were at, and confirm whether our plans for the day still felt right or should maybe be shifted around to fit the reality of mind and body now that the day was actually here. By the time we were finished first cup the rest of the crew would start to arrive. Always Josie first, always with a world-class attitude that made it hard not to want to follow the tone she set. And why wouldn’t you? Then Waits and McShane would come in together, bringing just enough guy energy to be amusing, but not enough to get in the way, with none of that desperate need to be the most interesting or coolest or tallest thing in the room. This bunch had more sense than that. Their combined people skills made working with them a joy. Once everybody had checked in, warmed up and settled at their instruments, we’d start the day.
Then we’d keep going. Until we felt like we weren’t delivering any more. Then we’d pause. And decide whether we were finished for the day or just taking a break before second shift.
Today we were onto something. So we’d decided it was a long break followed by a long second shift, probably late into the night. Sometimes it’s good to know when to pause excellent work and trust that you’ll be able to come back to it fresh. We agreed that this felt like one of those times. It was only mid-evening, so we’d head back into town, split up for a while to each get whatever we needed, then meetup back at the shop at around the same time we’d be going onstage if we were at a gig. Body memory would take over from there. Yeah, it was a plan.
Tony dropped me off at myplace. It felt like a walkaround so I called up the scientist to see if she wanted to come with. That was a yes, so I hopped into the shower to hose off the indecisions of the day, grabbed a clean shirt and fresh jeans while munching one of the deli-meat sandwiches I’d put together for late night after sessions just in case, tumbled down the stairs and out the door, turned and locked it. And there she was coming around the corner heading my way. Which was the sound of two people definitely getting into orbit. Hopefully a good thing. For both of us.
Mid evening wasn’t the best of time to wander in the park, so we headed down the block, past the club and into the set of streets that took us just around the edge of the party zone. Near enough to get the sound of happy people having a good time, not so close to get any of it on you when it spilled out into the street.
“So are you still a genius?” She’d been talking with Tony and the two of them were clearly ganging up on me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
“I’m surrounded by people much smarter than me. And I’m managing to keep up. Gonna call that a win.” The last of the evening’s deep blue had disappeared and streetlights were throwing down pools of orange-pink on the sidewalk that bounced up into the night. And we were walking again. And I guess we were far enough away from all the things going on that I was starting to see everything. Without all the distraction. A good time for understanding. Without all that thinking getting in the way.
Nice too, that I wasn't walking off a gig. Nice to be fully present. I thought again how my friend was nice to be present with. No fun being around someone who's not really there. “Nice to be with you." Didn't cover it. But was true. Was also a little out of nowhere, but that’s how conversations go with me. Friends understand. And this was a friend, So I was probably okay.
She smiled. Then looked off in the distance. For a moment not quite as present. Another time maybe. Then she was back. And looked at me, slight tilt of the head, and smiled again. “You're good to be with."
“Where'd you go?"
“No place in particular." We walked on for a minute, I let her collect her thoughts. Don't crowd the singer, they'll come in when they're ready. Your job is to be ready. Then, ”I’m not always easy to be around."
We all carry a load. My turn to smile. “I spend time every day running grooves in my head, right there in the room, but not available for normal human interaction. Not everyone can be okay with that."
“You do have an annoying habit of actually listening to what i'm saying. I’m not used to that."
“You don't leave a body much choice. If I don't pay attention you're miles ahead of me, then I’ll never catch up. And you're usually saying something that actually tells me what's going on. Or how you're really doing. Or how I’m doing. Things're better when I actually hear the clues like that. It's a quality of life thing."
“I guess there've been too many parts of my life where nobody's been listening to me. So it can put me off balance when it's not like that."
“Maybe time for a new balance?"
A small laugh. “Maybe."
I waited again. No hurry. It's about pace. Walking with no destination in mind. Conversation likewise.
We talked. Eventually about walking. Turns out we’d both walked at some point in our lives. Of course you have to be careful. It can turn into a habit. She called it first. “So now I never know whether I’m walking away from a good thing because I really do know better, or because I’m just too scared to try. Walking away from a bad thing I’ve always been pretty good at. Well, except for the painter. But he was so good with his hands."
“He should've been a sculptor?"
She shook her head. “Would've been a waste. No, it worked out about right that way. Eventually I figured out that excellent technique and a fine sense of proportion were going to get even me only so far."
“After that?"
“You ran into his quaint notion that the feminist wars had all been won, so women could choose to continue to impose the glass ceiling on themselves, or do the sensible thing, which is to obey the biological imperative and stay home and have babies."
“That's clear."
“Didn't say I hung around because he was kind. But a fine sense of proportion."
“Excellent technique."
“Only so far."
We kept walking. I heard the roar of a small crowd in the middle distance, apparently I still had my microscope ears on from working the day’s session. Didn’t sound like a fight, more like one of those moments when a bunch of folks are settling whether they’re an audience or a mob. Felt like a double handful of people sharing a laugh. so I let the thought pass by. Somehow the conversation had become about me, which I don’t usually do in polite company. But we were being open with one another. So I let it roll. Even though we were into some of the hard stuff.
“It doesn’t surprise me that you have haters.” She looked over at me in a way that made it clear she wasn’t one of them. Funny how she could do that. “You live in a world where small people with small talent can choose to get angry. And take out that anger out on anyone who violates their sense of how the world works. Starting with people who are not small. With clearly more talent. They’d find that offensive.”
Sounded like she was talking from experience. “I’m guessing science can be that way too.” A small snort, then a nod. I rolled that thought around for a beat or two, then followed it up with the obvious question, “And haters?”
“Ohhh yeah.”
We compared notes. Nothing too deep, just small hits. Turns out her world could be just as petty as mine. Which made me feel sad for science. And scientists. Also turned out she was just as capable of gently directing conversation as I was. Because now I was talking about myself again. Or at least my experience, how you can have people hate you for all kinds of reasons. Work up a head of steam. Feel like they have every right to make your life miserable. then they do. Go out to a kitchen session ends up an audition. Only you don’t know that. Buddy’s playing the chords like they’re out of a box and singin’ the words like they’re still in the book. So you suggest the fun might be a little groovier if it was bent around this way. Not only is it an audition but buddy doesn’t take kindly to being told what to do. Here I thought we were sociably sharing musical ideas. My mistake. Now I’m a poser and difficult to work with. Still offended that I’m out there. Posing. Apparently. Eventually took to recruiting haters. And sending them my way. Get right inside someone’s head. Point them in my direction. Tried to sketch that out so it would make sense to my friend here and now. Mostly failed.
The last time someone had come at me out of the dark was about this time of night. Round the corner, dark figure, moving with intent. I felt myself start to go all tunnel vision. Wasn’t sure what I was seeing. I heard a scuffling, a “whuff!” landing, then her voice, “It’s going to dislocate and be useless.” More scuffling. “Your choice.” Headlights. Car pulls over. That was then. This was now. Breathe. No really. This is important. Breathe. Still standing, but I must’ve passed out. The next thing I know I see two eyes looking at me. Almost nose to nose. A hand on each shoulder. Not shaking me. Not shouting at me. Just looking. Hey… hey… hey… come back… it’s okay… you’re okay… hey… come on you… you’re okay… everything’s fine…
It’d been a long time since I was so scared. So lost. So alone. So wanting to be anywhere but here. Anywhen but now. Anyone but me.
I saw someone over her shoulder. I must’ve flinched.
I heard a voice, “He okay?”
Limner? Why was he here? Where was here? What was going on? Two eyes looking at me. Not angry. Eyes big and round. I’d made her cry. God dammit. That’s not cool. Come on goofball. Pull yourself together. You’re scaring the horses. And she’s gonna bolt. Then where will you be?
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this.” Two eyes. Big and round. And really glassy. A tear. God dammit. This is not cool. He’s gonna bolt. And have every right. Tell ‘er to go away. She’ll be safer. I felt myself go under again.
“Does he need a doctor?”
Two eyes shook her head slightly. Not letting me go. Not hands. Not eyes. “No. I don’t think so. Let’s give him a minute.”
Part of me wondered who they were talking about. Wondered if they were okay, Whoever they were talking about. Go away, I thought. Get safe, I thought. When the blow lands, don’t be there. There’s gonna be a blow. Don’t be here.
“Hey… hey… you’re okay.”
I heard myself try to speak. Don’t know why, but what I heard myself say was, “Are you alright?”
Two eyes. Two hands. And a smile. That slowly got a little bigger. And a little bigger. And a small nod. “I’m fine.” And a small tear down one cheek. I made her cry. God dammit. “I need you to come back. We have to go home. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. You’re fine. But now we have to go home. And I can’t do it without you.” I started to cry too. “So I need you to come back.” Two eyes. Two hands. One tear. One smile. I could feel a heart beat. Couldn’t tell if it was mine. Felt my vision clear. A little.
“Did he get hit on the head?”
Two eyes. A small shake of the head. “I think he’s just… scared?” Two hands. One tear. A small smile. Two hearts. Why was Limner here? Where am I? Suddenly I felt myself breathe. In. One part ragged small. Then another part deeper. Then a third part deepest of all. My body pushed out the air. Then I felt myself breathe in again, deeper again, this time in two parts. And somehow exhaled. I noticed my shoulders were shaking as I did. I felt myself blink. Felt like the first time in days. A normal breath. And out. Two eyes didn’t let me go. Breathe again. And out. Without knowing why I nodded my head. Twice. Slowly.
“I’m okay.”
Another small smile. “You are not. But you will be?”
I felt myself smile. Nodded small in return. “I think so. Just give me a minute.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why don’t you two get in the car, I’ll drop you off.” Limner? Why was he here?
Two eyes. Not moving. “I think that’d be good.”
Back door opened. Limner. Holding the door. Why was he here? “Mind your head.” Which seemed like a weird thing to say.
I remember Archer seemed to catch his eye.
“This has to stop.”
Must’ve been distracted, I found myself in mid-conversation. Felt like it’d been going for a while. Also felt like I just got there.
“I’m fine.” Things were still a little fuzzy, but I made a guess, “You’re not convinced.”
“I’m trying to understand a world where the definition of fine includes what just happened. Give me a minute.” So I wasn’t wrong. “You’re really going back to work?”
I didn’t remember saying that. But it felt like I needed to be somewhere. Recording. Right. “I’ve got people depending on me.”
“Yes you do.” Which sounded like I was missing something. Yeah, this might take a minute. “D’you want to try and explain what just happened?”
I tried to put together what I remembered into some kind of coherent whole. Still hazy. so I reached for one of the things I was fairly certain of. “Some guy…”
“Uh huh.”
Then there was a space in what I remembered. So I filled it with something that made sense. “…came at me.”
She tilted her head. Like she’d just had a new thought. Rolled it around for a second, then, “Are you sure?”
“There was a guy. Yes, I’m sure.”
Eyes in a rear view mirror. Seems the lady and I were in a backseat. Did I know that? “I thought he went for the scientist.” Limner. What was he doing here? No that was before. His backseat. I remembered. This has to stop. A shrug in the mirror, “Though I wasn’t at the best of angles.”
But Archer was back at the new thought. Staring off partway between me and the back of the front seat. Two eyes. Doing science. Probably what I look like working a groove. So. Don’t rush. Wait for it to come around again. And then it did. She nodded. “You need to go back to work.”
Not what I was expecting.
In the mirror, Limner neither, clearly. But, “Can I offer you a ride?”
I tried to shape the logistics in my mind. Not happening. It came out, “Tony…”
“…was going to pick him up.” Archer finished it.
“So, take you guys home, or back to the shop?”
Guess I was still puzzled. She took it again, “Home.” Though she checked in. Which was nice. i nodded. Which made me feel dizzy. Okay, maybe I still needed a minute.
“Alright then,” from the front, “Buckle up, we’re on our way.”
“We’re in the back seat.” Though I noticed we still both reached for seatbelts.
Eyes in the rearview, “Insurance.”
“Ah.” Then, “I notice you have handles back here.”
“Not a company car.”
Of course.
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