They Can’t Take That Away From Me
Lucy looked around the stage. “Is Shamika getting ready?”
Lois nodded. “She’s doing her usual pre-gig ritual, running through all twenty-six snare rudiments on a practice pad in the dressing room. Christie’s in there with her, too. They’ll be ready when the curtain goes up.”
Lucy exhaled and rotated her shoulders. “Sham’s always ready. I’ve known reliable drummers who couldn’t keep a beat if they were wired to a metronome and great drummers who couldn’t show up on time for their own funerals. But Shamika is the most reliable good drummer I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t trade her for anybody in the business.”
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
“Don’t you dare! If she finds out what I really think about her, I’ll never hear the end of it!”
Lois chuckled and peeked out from behind the curtain. “Good crowd tonight. Hope our money man is out there somewhere.”
Lucy snorted. “I just hope he can tell rhythm and blues from his elbow and shoes.”
Connie slid her head between the sisters. “Anyone see Malcolm out there anywhere?”
Lois snapped her head around. “What? Malcolm?” She peered out towards the soundboard and scanned the area. “No. Maybe he’s getting something to drink.”
“I hope so,” sighed Connie. “This is the most nerve-wracking gig I’ve ever had.”
Lucy nudged her. “Even more than the first night after Jennifer left and Lois and I started playing with the three of you?”
Connie’s eyes rolled up into her head. “Oh, please, that was easy compared to this. We lost a selfish and untrustworthy bass player who was ready to go out on her own at any moment anyway, and you and Lois lost a boy singer who was scared of his own shadow. The two of you slid into the group like we’d all been rehearsing for a month, and we clicked from the very first intro. It was total synchronicity.”
Lucy grinned sideways. “I’m glad you remember it like that.”
“Don’t you?” asked Connie. “I thought the whole two weeks at Marlowe’s was fantastic. You two couldn’t have played better.”
“Yeah, but you guys didn’t want me at first.”
“And we were wrong! You and Lois are exactly what we needed, both of you. And we were exactly what you needed, too. Admit it!”
Lucy lifted her hands and grinned. “Hey, I’ve always said that the five of us getting together was perfect timing. It was even better than Stevie Nicks and Lindsey Buckingham joining Fleetwood Mac when they did. And look where they went.”
“We’re not going to have the same kinds of trouble they did, though,” answered Connie. “For one thing, none of us do drugs or drink, and for another, you’re just not my type.”
Lucy chuckled and nudged her with one elbow. “Too bad for you, girlfriend. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Lois turned and gave her sister a mock frown. “Cut it out, Lucy. If there were any guys in this band, we’d have to chain you to the bus to keep you away from them and you know it. I still say you’re the one who scared Tim all the way back to his mommy.”
“Sure I did,” countered Lucy. “You know I wouldn’t have actually done anything to him, even if he’d wanted me to.”
“Yeah, I know, Punky. When it comes to guys, you’re all hat and no cattle.”
Lucy stifled a laugh. “I can’t help it if I’m a traditionalist at heart. But I still think Tim hooked up with Jennifer’s band. Of course, she needed him like she needed another hole in her head.”
Lois grimaced. “He’s not playing with her. Last I heard, Tim was going to school to become a computer programmer. And according to the latest issue of Downbeat, Jennifer’s latest album is going to be shipped gold.”
Connie raised her eyebrows. “Shipped gold? Wow. I guess she’s doing pretty well, then.”
“She is if you don’t count her divorce from her manager. She and Albert Townsend get along fine in business but not as real people.”
Connie sighed. “Too bad for Jen. She always did have dollar signs in her eyes. Along with a morbid fear of her fortieth birthday.”
Lucy lifted one eyebrow. “Should we send her a card?”
Connie snorted. “Oh, yeah, she’d love that. How about one that reads, ‘Have a great fortieth birthday! Sorry your career is almost over!’”
Before Lucy or Lois could stop laughing, a worried-looking Ramona entered the backstage area. “We have a problem.”
It was Lucy’s turn to roll her eyes. “Christie’s stoned again, isn’t she?”
“No, she’s fine, or at least she’s as fine as she ever is. Shamika managed to keep her sober after rehearsal. It’s a little more serious than that.”
Lois’ brow drew down. “What could be more serious than Christie drunk or stoned?”
Ramona took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Malcolm is busy calling Ralph on the porcelain telephone.”
Connie paled. “He’s WHAT!”
Lucy and Lois exchanged a puzzled glance to make sure that neither one knew what Ramona meant before Lucy asked, “What are you talking about? What does that mean?”
Ramona lifted one eyebrow. “It means that Malcolm is in the men’s room leaning over a toilet trying to throw up yesterday’s breakfast.”
Lucy sputtered incoherently. Lois growled, “You are talking about Malcolm Hood, the Metro Club sound tech, the guy who moves the sliders on the board and mixes the house and generally makes us sound as good as we can?”
“Very good, Sherlock,” answered Ramona. “You got it on the first try.”
Connie’s hands clenched into fists. “What are we gonna do? We have to have a sound tech! We can’t play without one! We do too many changes to set it and forget it!”
“What about Willie?” asked Lucy. “Isn’t he the backup sound tech?”
“He is when he’s not in jail for violating his parole,” answered Ramona. “The cops picked him up early this afternoon. And before you ask, Virginia is out of town visiting her mother. All three of the house techs are unavailable.”
“Great!” Lois threw up her hands in disgust. “I keep telling everyone that we need a full-time permanent sound tech, but no, we can just use the house tech wherever we play and – “
“That’s enough!” growled Ramona. “Save that discussion for a later time. Right now, say something constructive or don’t say anything.”
Lois glared back but took a deep breath and relaxed slightly. “We have to find a replacement,” she said.
Ramona sighed again. “I know, I know. Easy to say, not so easy to – wait a minute. Wait a minute!” She grabbed Connie by the shoulders. “That bartender!”
Connie frowned. “What bartender?”
“Charlie! The one who isn’t gay! Didn’t he say he used to mix sound in college?”
Connie’s frown slowly turned upside down. “Yeah. Yeah, he did! I bet he’d be great, too!”
“What?” cried Lois. “You’re willing to put our sound – our professional future – in the hands of some half-drunk mostly-deaf washed-up bottle-dropping brainless stumblebum?”
Ramona released Connie. “You have a better idea?” Lois’ mouth opened but no words came out. “Thought so. Lois, you and Connie go talk to Charlie.”
“What? Me? Why?”
“Because Shamika has to keep tabs on Christie, and Lucy and I need to double-check the stage setup and the cable placement so he doesn’t have to guess who’s singing into what mic. Besides, if Connie can’t charm him into it, you’re the only one of us who might scare him enough to actually do this.”
Lois followed Connie as Ramona and Lucy started checking the equipment. “I still think this is a mistake, Connie.”
“Maybe so, but it’s better to go down in flames than just give up without a fight.”
Lois might have mumbled something about them being dead either way, but no one called her on it.
*****
“Charlie! Hey! Yeah, you, Charlie!”
Clark hesitated for half a second before looking up. He hoped that no one noticed that he hadn’t immediately responded to his cover name.
Then he saw who was calling to him and he really hoped that the two women bearing down on him with something close to desperation in their eyes hadn’t noticed.
Lois, the one with the short, feathery dark hair – the very attractive one with the very interesting shorthand notes – pointed at him. “You told Ramona you ran sound for a band in college, right?”
He frowned in confusion. “Yeah, but that was – “
She abruptly grabbed his bartender’s vest and pulled him away from the bottles he’d been arranging. “Come with me!”
He took two stumbling steps before he recovered his balance and stopped moving. He disengaged Lois’ hand as gently as he could, then looked from one woman to the other. “What are you two maniacs doing?”
Connie stepped between him and the crazy bass player. “Please, Charlie, we’re desperate! We don’t have a sound tech for tonight’s show and we have to have one. Won’t you help us?”
Clark’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “Sound tech? For you girls? Tonight? With no rehearsal? You gotta be kidding!”
“No, Charlie,” Connie pleaded, “we’re not kidding. But we really are desperate. We have to have someone at the board who knows what he’s doing. You’re the only other person in the club we can ask to do this. Please?” She stepped closer, then put her hands on his chest and lowered her voice a register. “Please, Charlie? For me?”
Behind her, Lois rolled her eyes. “He’s not buying it, Connie. You sure he’s not gay?”
Clark ignored Lois’ last remark and lifted his hands to either side. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but I was hired as a bartender, not a sound tech. It’s not my decision to make.”
Lois planted her hands on her hips. “Fine. I’ll find Toni Taylor and ask her. Will you do it if she okays the switch?”
Clark shrugged helplessly. “Yeah, I guess so. Sure. If Ms. Taylor says it’s okay, I’ll give it a try.”
Connie pulled his head down and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Charlie! You’re a prince!”
“Just don’t expect any miracles, okay?”
“No problem. Hey, come on over to the board and I’ll go over the set list with you. Lois, can you find Toni and let her know what’s going on?”
Lois blew out a short blast of air. “Sure, fine. This guy better not be lousy, that’s all I have to say.” Then she spun on her heel and strode away.
Clark followed Connie to the sound booth, which was really just a raised dais near the back of the room just off the dance floor. “Twenty-four main channels, four sub-mixes, one main mix. That’s the house level. We don’t do any stereo stuff and all the instruments come through the board, including the drums. Everything’s labeled with names, not just numbers.”
He looked over the board and nodded. “Two monitor mixes? One for the stage and one for the drummer?”
She beamed at him and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yes! That’s exactly right! And the stereo fifteen-band equalizer is set up for the mains on the left and the stage monitor on the right. The monitor signal for the drummer goes through the separate equalizer and amp over here.” She grabbed his collar and pulled him down to her level, then kissed him enthusiastically. “Oh, Charlie, you’re going to be great tonight!”
He shook his head. He just hoped he wouldn’t turn out to be lousy. And if one of them had to kiss him, why couldn’t it be the brunette?
*****
Toni waved her hands between herself and Lois. “Wait, wait! Tell me all that again, a little slower this time.”
Lois frowned at her. “Malcolm is the only sound tech in the building tonight, and he’s barfing in the boy’s room. He can’t work the show. Ramona thinks that the new bartender, Charlie something – “
“Charlie King?”
“Yeah, him. Anyway, Ramona thinks he can mix for us. He doesn’t want to do it without your permission. Something about not being hired for the job.”
Toni allowed herself a small smile. Charlie certainly seemed to be following all the rules so far, so she could afford to bend this one for the girls in the band. Maybe she could get him to bend the one about management and labor not dating, too. It had been a while since she’d been with a man who was interested in her as a woman and not her as a means to an end.
She suddenly realized that Lois was still waiting for her answer. “Yes, of course. If Charlie can help you out, he can run the board tonight.”
Just then the new waitress, the blond who’d been in the conference room when Johnny had shot off both his mouth and his handgun, ran up to her. “Ms. Taylor, we gotta call an ambulance. Malcolm is still tryin’ to toss his cookies but nothin’s coming up, and now he’s runnin’ a fever. One o’ the other girls thinks he’s got food poisoning or maybe something worse.”
Toni nodded at the girl – Linda, that was her name, the new girl with the bladder control issues. “Okay. You stay with him until the ambulance gets here, but then you get cleaned up and get back on the floor. We’re going to be short one bartender tonight with Charlie helping the band, and we can’t be short on wait staff too.”
The girl’s eyes landed on Lois and narrowed for a moment, then she nodded. “Yes ma’am! I’ll go make that call.”
As Linda trotted off, Toni turned to Lois and said, “Maybe Charlie can run sound for more than just one night.”
Lois hesitated, then shook her head and refocused on Toni. “That’s assuming we don’t kill him for screwing up our show first.”
Toni laughed. Lois didn’t.
Then Lois added, “And that’s also assuming the union doesn’t pitch eleven kinds of hissy fits over a non-union guy doing a union job.”
Toni shook her head once. “I’ll take care of that. If Charlie survives the night and you need him tomorrow, I’ll make sure he gets his local card.”
“Thanks, Toni. You’re a peach.”
“No problem. Now you girls go knock ‘em dead.”
Lois’ eyes flickered – just for an instant – then she grinned and spun away. Toni wondered about that eye flicker. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen it. Was there more to Lois Lane than just a nice body, great voice, and spider fingers on her bass? Did she know something specific about the Metro Club’s real businesses? Was that why she always seemed to hear more than Toni had meant about knocking them dead?
Toni shook her head. No time for that now. There were hungry and thirsty customers waiting for the band to go on so they could dance the night away, and she had all the beans she could stuff in her mouth at the moment without borrowing any more trouble. Besides, she still had to make sure Christie was sober enough for the second set, and that was getting to be a bigger and more time-consuming chore every night.
****
Lois forced her heart to slow down as she crossed the club floor back to the sound booth. She’d dodged another bullet, maybe a literal one. If Linda had recognized her, she hadn’t said anything. Maybe enough time had passed and Lois’ looks had changed enough so that Linda wasn’t sure and wouldn’t do or say something stupid and get Lois killed.
Either way, she had a gig to play. And with a rookie sound tech. What else could go wrong?
Lois tapped Connie on the shoulder. “We got Toni’s okay. He can run the sound tonight.”
Connie waved over her shoulder. “Great! Look, Charlie, you do it like you’re talking about it and you’ll be just fine.”
Lois leaned closer. “It’s time for the first set, Connie. He’d better be ready right now.”
Connie turned and grinned at Lois. “I think he’s gonna be great!” She turned back to the bartender-turned-soundman and pointed both index fingers at him. “Be great, man!”
He gave both women an electric smile. “Break a leg!”
Lois nodded shortly and turned to stride to the stage, trying to shake off the impact of that smile. “What – uh – what were you two talking about when I walked up?”
Connie skipped closer to Lois. “We were talking about mixing, about how he does it. He blends the bass in with the drums to lay the foundation, then lays the rhythm guitar and piano above that, then the vocals with lead guitar or the piano on top if it’s taking the lead, and it’s like a cake with all those layers! I’ve never known a sound guy who thought that deeply about what he does.”
“Yeah? I just hope we don’t have to deal with feedback roaring through the monitors all night.”
“If you’d only let us use those in-ear monitors – “
“No! Hate ‘em! I can’t hear what I need to hear with those things, and I’ve never known any house tech who’d take the time to mix them right. Just give me a floor wedge or a hot spot with the lead vocal and my voice and I’m happy, as long as I can hear my amp and get in the pocket with Shamika. I can move around to change what I hear with stage monitors, but I can’t do that with the ear buds. If we ever get a permanent sound tech, maybe, but until then, definitely not.”
“Okay. Sheesh, you haven’t gotten any less picky with age, have you?”
Lois stopped short. “Not tonight, Connie, please. No teasing tonight. This show is way too important to me.”
Connie lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay! I’m sorry, Lois. I was just trying to ease the tension.”
“I know. Let’s just save it until after the last set. I’m sure I’ll need some of my tensions eased by then.”
Connie’s mouth twitched. “I bet Charlie could take care of that, too.”
“Cut it out, Connie!” That hit closer to the mark than Lois was willing to admit, even to herself.
Connie laughed. “Okay, okay! Come on, let’s get strapped up and plugged in. Maybe Christie won’t be too far gone to follow the arrangements tonight.”
Lois snorted. “As long as you’re asking for miracles, why not wish up that album deal?”
“Sure. And for Lucy to get about three inches taller so her whole face will show up in the cover photo.”
Lois hid her smile behind a sigh. “If we’re gonna wish for the moon, let’s ask for Ramona to develop a sharper sense of humor.”
Connie elbowed her in the side. “And maybe a boob job for Shamika?”
Despite her trepidation, Lois burst out laughing. Still, there was something about this guy Charlie that didn’t sit quite right with her, something that didn’t fit the image he was working hard to portray, something that compelled her to look closer. And for the first time in a long time, she wanted to look closer at one particular guy. A lot closer.
But there wasn’t time to puzzle it out now. She could only hope that he didn’t deafen the customers with feedback or electrocute the band on stage. Anything more than that would be gravy.
