Authors: Jim Fusilli
“Bowie, this man . . .” She began to sputter. “This man, he represents everything you could ever want. He isâWho is bigger in your field, Bowie?”
Bigger? What is that?
“Could you explain what the options would be? If you say no to this man, where do you go?”
“Mom,” he said softly. “The only part of it I enjoy is making music. Spinning is the cost, so I do that too and I don't mind. But all the rest? It makes my skin crawl.”
“He will give you everything, Bowie.”
“I'm trying to explainâ”
“What's your option? You open up a shop on 3 Mile Road where you can sell your little records?”
Bowie said, “Mom, don't. Please.”
“You'd better make up your mind, Bowie. Ionic Strength is coming tomorrow. He's coming, and you're going to appreciate what he's trying to do. Or you will live with regret for the rest of your long goddamned life. Nobody gets three chances.”
Kim flung open the car door, jumped inside and squealed away.
T
HIS
TIME
NO
SHOCK
AND
awe when Ionic Strength arrived, no über-cool staging. To keep it earthbound, Bowie made sure his father would attend. Kim vetoed a meeting in the shop, but otherwise was resigned to Ben's presence.
Neither Ben nor Bowie knew Kim had invited Ion to come back to the UP. Once he agreed to fly east, she envisioned a role in Bowie's management. She saw a house in Venice Beach, and a reserved table at the Roxy, the Viper Room, the Troubadour. Velvet ropes would be brushed aside. She felt clever and delicious. Something had reawakened.
Bowie had gone about his business: homework, too quickly; and then back to the digital work station, where he was tidying up a piece he called “Karlheinz” that he'd been working on for weeks. The piano part had been looped to unfurl in reverse, and Bowie, Fender Jazzmaster in his lap, was trying to insert a kind of wet Bootsy pattern between the notes. Given it would hardly be audible among seventy-two tracks, it didn't matter very much if his playing wasn't perfectâhe could fix it with the softwareâbut he wanted to get it right, even if only he knew he had done so. He cursed himself for being such a crappy bass player.
Upstairs, Ben and Kim negotiated in whispers. Their positions, not quite entirely oppositional, were clear. Ben considered it a concession on Kim's part when she agreed that they would do only what Bowie wanted. “I'll go with him this time,” she said, “to LA.”
Of course
, thought Ben, who wondered if she would return. For years, he had assumed she would leave after Bowie set out for college.
The white stretch limo eased in front of the house at sunset. As Kim retrieved Bowie, Ben stepped outside in flannel and jeans, ignoring the icy chill.
The driver who had betrayed Ionic Strength hurried to open the door.
Rising out of the car, Ionic Strength, mustering gravitas, slipped into a long gray fox coat.
As Ben Thomas thrust a calloused hand toward his visitor, he saw Emily, Bowie's little classmate, marching with purpose, arms swaying, her toque bobbing. She walked directly to the producer.
“You suck,” Emily shouted. “Leave everybody alone.”
“âEverybody'?”
She raised her fists.
As the driver moved in, Ben held out an arm. He said, “I've got her.”
Squeezing past his mother in the doorway, Bowie rushed toward them, crunching rock salt with bare feet. He was bone-thin in a Ramaaker T.
Ben said, “Emily. Emily.”
She struggled to escape his bear hug.
“Emily,” said Bowie Thomas, arriving. “Dad.”
She wriggled and kicked.
Whoa
, thought Ben, as he lifted her.
This girl enjoys her music
.
“I'll take her, Dad.”
“I suck?” Ion asked no one.
His arm around her shoulder, Bowie led Emily past snow mounds toward the house.
Mortified, Kim stepped aside as Emily began to sob.
“Sorry about that,” Ben said. Now he and Ionic Strength shook hands.
“Bah,” said Ion. “Teenage drama. She's too young to know.”
“Let's get out of the cold.”
W
ITH
E
MILY
DISPATCHED
TO
B
OWIE
'
S
room and the tea kettle about to whistle, Kim Thomas offered to take Ion's fox coat.
“Mom,” Bowie said, “he might not be staying.”
“Your pop ever work security?” Ion asked. He was remembering the time in São Paulo when a DJ pulled a gun and took a shot at him for knocking his set, the bullet pinging the cash register behind the bar. Then there was that night in New Orleans. . . .
“Ion, I think I'm going to stay home,” said Bowie Thomas.
Ionic Strength pointed toward the Ramaaker logo on Bowie's chest. “He stays home. Losers, they stay home.”
The producer had a hand to play. He looked at Kim Thomas as he dug into his pocket, produced his cash, removed the clip, and spread the fresh bills on the kitchen table.
Ben Thomas knew men at the Elks who put a twenty around ten singles and called it a bankroll. Hollywood led with a hundred-dollar bill and backed it with at least thirty more.
Turning to Bowie, Ion said, “You think I'm on about that?” He pointed at the cash. “That is nothing. Tip money. I'm talking about opportunity.”
Bowie had yet to look at the cash on the table.
“Kid, I know you. You're a stubborn little Eskimo,” Ion continued, “spinning in my face at Chalk like that. All right. Be stubborn. You don't bend. Fine. It pays.”
Ben inched past the producer and took his seat at the table.
“Bowie,” said Kim, as the tea kettle called. “Listen to the man.”
The boy turned and cut the flame under the boiling water.
“You spin Saturday night at Chalk,” Ion said. “Show Rakesh you respect his tastes.”
“He does,” said Kim. “He respects. You don't know him like I do.”
“Kim . . .” Ben said softly.
Ion shrugged. He was thinking Kim Thomas didn't know as much about Boy Wonder as she thought. The big guy, though: trouble. He sees. Maybe Rakesh would pay out for a million-dollar desk.
Meanwhile, Bowie calculated. Ion was telling him he had to spin tracks by RM Global clients, but the subtext was that he didn't have the muscle to force him to do it. “I respect Mr. Malik,” he said. “But it's not my time. Not yet.”
“Let the people decide,” Ion said.
Kim leaned against her son. “He's right. People know.”
Some did, Bowie thought. But five minutes in a crowd while an A-list pop EDM producer spun proved it was the scene, not the music, that they craved.
“You want to advance the culture?” Ion asked. “Win a while and then do what you think you can do.”
Ben studied his son. The producer had raised a fair point. Given a platform, Bowie could take it wherever he wanted to once he was established.
“Thank you, but no,” Bowie said.
If tarred with an associate with Ion and crass EDM, he knew he could never recover. To the commercially minded, any move toward making original music would seem a step down. And the musicians he admired would view him with suspicion.
“Bowie . . .” Kim moaned.
Ion reached for the cash. “There's always another, you know. Another you.”
“Maybe so,” Bowie said.
Oh no there isn't
, thought Ben.
Ion needed an exit line. “I'll send the plane. Bring the folks.”
“I've got a gig,” Bowie told him, as he walked toward the door. He was going back to the warehouse. Two sets: all ages at 8 p.m.; and then he'd return at midnight.
As Ben stood, Ion looked at Kim. He had a mind to turn her in, but he saw she was broken. It rarely paid to be kind, but he was thinking he might be coming back to the UP. EDM was going to die one day. Maybe a Bowie Thomas would have a different kind of currency.
Ionic Strength ran a finger along Bowie's cheek. “You want the hoodie?”
Bowie smiled, said no.
By the time Ion's limo pulled away, Bowie was in his bedroom.
Sheepish, her cheeks glistened with tears, Emily stood surrounded by his gear: the synths there, the bass in its stand, his drum pad on his swivel seat. A photo of Ramaaker was his screen saver. His bed was a tangle of comforters and sheets.
“Emily,” said Bowie. “You are one harsh critic.”
“Did Iâ”
“But not wrong.”
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTORS
GALADRIELLE ALLMAN
is the author of
Please Be With Me, A Song for My Father Duane Allman
. She studied writing at Sarah Lawrence College and lives in Berkeley, California, where she is working on a novel about teenage love and punk rock music.
A lifelong New Yorker and recovering journalist,
PETER BLAUNER
is the author of seven novels, including the Edgar-winning
Slow Motion Riot
and the
New York Times
bestseller
The Intruder
. His short fiction has been anthologized in
Best American Mystery Stories
and on NPR's
Selected Shorts from Symphony Space
. He has been a writer for several television shows, including
Law & Order: SVU
and
Blue Bloods
. His novel,
Proving Ground,
will be published in summer 2017. Website:
www.peterblauner.com
Called a hard-boiled poet by NPR's Maureen Corrigan and the “noir poet laureate” in the
Huffington Post
,
REED FARREL COLEMAN
is the
New York Times
bestselling author of Robert B. Parker's
Jesse Stone
series. He has published twenty-five novels in several series and standalones including the acclaimed
Moe Prager
mystery series and the
Gus Murphy
series. He is a three-time recipient of the Shamus Award for Best PI Novel and a three-time Edgar nominee in three categories. He has also received the Audie, Anthony, Macavity, and Barry awards. Website:
www.reedcoleman.com
DAVID CORBETT
is the author of five novels:
The Devil's Redhead
,
Done for a Dime
(a
New York Times
Notable Book),
Blood of Paradise
(nominated for numerous awards, including the Edgar),
Do They Know I'm Running
(“A rich, hard-hitting epic”â
Publishers Weekly
, starred review), and
The Mercy of the Night
(“Superlative”â
Booklist
, starred review). His novella,
The Devil Prayed and Darkness Fell
, appeared in 2015, and his story collection
Thirteen Confessions
was released in 2016. His book on the craft of characterization,
The Art of Character
, has been called “a writer's bible.” He's a contributing editor for
Writer's Digest
, and his nonfiction has appeared in
The New York Times
,
Narrative
, and
Zyzzyva
, among others. Website:
www.davidcorbett.com
TYLER DILTS
is the author of the
Long Beach Homicide
series of crime novels featuring Detective Beckett. The son of a policeman, he grew up wanting to follow in his father's footsteps. Along the way, his career goals changed, but he never lost his interest in the daily work of homicide detectives. Now an instructor at California State University in Long Beach, his novels include
A King of Infinite Space, A Cold and Broken Hallelujah
, and, most recently,
Come Twilight
. Website:
www.facebook.com/tylerdiltsbooks
BRENDAN DuBOIS
is the award-winning author of twenty-one novels and more than 150 short stories. He is currently working on a new novel and works with award-winning
New York Times
bestselling author James Patterson. He is also a
Jeopardy!
gameshow champion and a co-winner of the trivia gameshow
The Chase
. Website:
www.BrendanDuBois.com
BILL FITZHUGH
is the award-winning author of nine novels, ranging from comic thrillers to social satire to humorous mysteries. He has written for radio, television, film, and the theater. He lives in Los Angeles. Website:
www.billfitzhugh.com
JIM FUSILLI
is the author of eight novels, including
Closing Time
and
Tribeca Blues
, and several books of nonfiction about music, including
Catching Up: Connecting With Great 21st Century Music
. He is the rock and pop music critic of the
Wall Street Journal
and is the founder of
www.ReNewMusic.net
, a music website for grownups. He lives in New York. Website:
www.jimfusilli.com
USA Today
bestselling author
ALISON GAYLIN
has been nominated for the Edgar, Anthony, and ITW Thriller awards and won the Shamus award for her
Brenna Spector
suspense series. Her ninth novel,
What Remains of Me
(William Morrow), is out now in hardcover and paperback. Website:
www.alisongaylin.com
A. J. HARTLEY
is the British-born international bestselling author of mystery/thriller, fantasy, historical fiction, and young adult novels, including
The Mask of Atreus
,
On the Fifth Day
, the
Darwen Arkwright
children's series, and, most recently
Steeplejack
, a young adult alternative detective series. He is currently the Robinson Professor of Shakespeare studies at the University of North Carolina, Charlotte, where he specializes in the performance history, theory, and criticism of Renaissance English drama, and works as a director and dramaturg. Website:
www.ajhartley.net
CRAIG JOHNSON
is
The New York Times
bestselling author of the
Walt Longmire
mystery series, which has garnered popular and critical acclaim. Titles include
The Cold Dish
,
Death Without Company
,
Another Man's Moccasins
,
The Dark Horse
(
Publishers Weekly
Best Book of the Year),
Junkyard Dogs
,
Hell Is Empty
(
Library Journal
Best Mystery of the Year), and
As the Crow Flies
. The
Walt Longmire
series is the basis for the hit A&E drama,
Longmire
. Johnson lives in Ucross, Wyoming, population twenty-five. Website:
www.craigallenjohnson.com
DAVID LISS
is an Edgar- and Macavity-award winning author of ten novels, most recently
Rebels
, the second book in the
Randoms
trilogy. His previous bestselling books include
The Coffee Trader
and
The Ethical Assassin
, both of which are being developed as films, and
A Conspiracy of Paper
, which is now being developed for television. Liss is the author of numerous comics, including
Mystery Men
,
Sherlock Holmes: Moriarty Lives
and
Angelica Tomorrow
. Website:
www.davidliss.com
VAL McDERMID
is a best-selling, award-winning Scottish crime writer best known for her mystery, detective, and suspense novels including series featuring Dr. Tony Hill, Kate Brannigan, and Tony Hill with Carol Jordan. Her recent novel
Out of Bounds,
is
The Sunday Times
number one bestseller
.
Website:
www.valmcdermid.com
Born under a bad sign,
GARY PHILLIPS
must keep writing to forestall his appointment at the crossroads. He writes comic books, novels, short stories, novellas, scripts, and anything else he can get away with. He is currently president of the Private Eye Writers of America. He lives in Los Angeles. Website:
www.gdphillips.com
NAOMI RAND
has published three
Emma Price
mysteries including
The One That Got Away
,
Stealing for a Living
, and
It's Raining Men
. Her fiction and literary criticism appears in many small press magazines, among them
The Flexible Persona
,
Other Voices
,
Melus
, and
North Dakota Quarterly
. She has contributed to
Hard Boiled Brooklyn
and has written for numerous magazines and newspapers including
Redbook
,
Parents
,
Ladies Home Journal
,
The New York Times,
and the
Boston Globe
. She lives in Montclair, NJ, twelve miles west of New York City. Website:
www.naomirand.com
PETER ROBINSON
is a Canadian crime writer born in Britain. He is best known for his crime novels set in Yorkshire featuring Inspector Alan Banks. Several of the novels have been adapted for television under the series title
DCI Banks
. His work has received a number of honors including the Edgar, Anthony, and Arthur Ellis Awards. Website:
www.inspectorbanks.com
ZOÃ SHARP
opted out of mainstream education at the age of twelve and wrote her first novel at fifteen. She began her award-winning crime thriller series featuring bodyguard Charlotte âCharlie' Fox after receiving death-threats in the course of her work as a photojournalist. She now writes fiction full-time, interspersed with stints as an international pet-sitter. She lives in the English Lake District. Website:
www.zoesharp.com
MARK HASKELL SMITH
is the author of five novels including
Moist
,
Delicious
,
Salty
,
Baked
, and
Raw: A Love Story
, as well as the nonfiction books
Heart of Dankness: Underground Botanists, Outlaw Farmers and the Race to the Cannabis Cup
, and
Naked at Lunch: A Reluctant Nudist's Adventures in the Clothing Optional World
. He lives in Los Angeles. Website:
www.markhaskellsmith.com
WILLY VLAUTIN
is the author of four novels:
The Motel Life
,
Northline
,
Lean on Pete
, and
The Free
. He is also the main songwriter for the bands Richmond Fontaine and The Delines. He currently resides in Portland, Oregon. Website:
www.willyvlautin.com
ERICA WRIGHT
's latest crime novel
The Granite Moth
(Pegasus) was called “brisk, dark, slinky” by
USA Today
. Her debut,
The Red Chameleon
(Pegasus), was one of
O, The Oprah Magazine
's Best Books of Summer. In addition to crime writing, she is an acclaimed poet, and is the poetry editor and a senior editor at
Guernica Magazine
as well as an editorial board member for Alice James Books. Website:
www.ericawright.typepad.com