Gone Bad (5 page)

“We shouldn't get involved with small-time operators like that,” Alex said, as soon as we told him about Barry.

“What could it hurt?” Kelsey answered. “We haven't exactly signed any deals. He just offered to record our stuff. At least we might end up with a good demo.”

“What was he driving?” Alex asked.

“A Volvo,” Kelsey said. She didn't tell Alex that it looked like a Volvo that had been driven through the streets of Baghdad during the Gulf War.

“I still think we should polish our material and hold off for a while.”

“Let's just do it,” I said. I was getting pretty sick of people who had to discuss everything before they acted.

“Kids are asking to hear more of our songs, Alex,” Kelsey said. “If we could get some good tracks down maybe we could even burn some CDs to sell at our gigs.”

I guess the idea of making a few bucks from our music appealed to Alex. He gave in.

The session was weird but cool. It wasn't exactly a basement studio. Barry lived in the basement of an old apartment building. He had a couple of dogs in there that he'd taken off the street. They sniffed me pretty seriously as I walked in. The place was a real dump. You should have caught the look on Alex's face. But after making friends with the dogs (I got down on the floor and sniffed them), I decided I liked this guy.

He did have a fairly sophisticated digital recording setup but we had to spread out all over his ratty little apartment to get arranged. Kelsey ended up in the kitchen with her keyboard. Through the mic she said, “Barry, why does the only woman here have to get stuck in the kitchen? Isn't this just a little bit sexist?” He got the joke. She had to explain to me later the thing about putting the only woman in the kitchen. So maybe it was funny, I don't know.

Alex ended up in the bedroom with his guitar and both mangy dogs, who seemed to thrive on the sound of an electric six-string.

Wouldn't you know it? I had to set up in the bathroom and keep the door closed. “Otherwise, you'll be too loud, Cody. If I want to mix this properly, I need to have you all isolated from each other.”

Talk about weird. We were a band trying to play without seeing each other. The headphones helped but it was hard playing without being able to watch Alex or Kelsey. I swore it was the last gig I'd ever do in somebody's bathroom.

We recorded “The Condom Song” and “Downtown Dangerous,” Kelsey's song about her days living on the street. We played it together and then one at a time while listening to the other tracks already recorded. I was thinking it was all a waste of time, a big joke. Barry was just a hack amateur who had been bullshitting us.

But then we heard the mix. It sounded very good. In fact, it sounded too good. “That's us?” I asked.

“Scream Static just got a little bit better,” Barry said.

Barry invested some money into promoting the band online. Alex didn't trust him, but that was Alex. We hadn't signed any contracts. But I thought Barry was okay. Maybe he'd help us get our sound out there.

Then CKDU, the Dalhousie University station, started playing “The Condom Song.” People all over Halifax and Dartmouth were hearing it. Alex couldn't deny that we were getting attention. I could handle the glory. Clearly, if CKDU was giving us airtime, we were cutting edge.

In fact, a guy from CKDU called up Kelsey and invited us all in for a live interview. Now, it wasn't exactly MTV or anything but it seemed like a step up. Even Alex was impressed.

So we went down to Dal and I had on my shredded pants and studded belt. I had on a chopped off t-shirt with a picture of Hitler on it. It was short enough to let my gut hang out a little and there were no sleeves so my armpit hairs stuck out. Some rockers probably take years to achieve this look, but for me it comes naturally. I am just lucky that way. Alex had on these John Lennon type shades and Kelsey looked . . . well, just hot. Even university kids were looking at us like we must be important as we walked into the Student Union Building. The only thing missing was the stretch limo, but I knew that pretty soon we'd be getting driven around in something better than Barry's old rust hulk.

So we went into the studio and I nearly freaked. There was Jeffrey working the sound board. He and Kelsey hugged and I wanted to gag. Maybe now was my chance to finish the job on his face with my boot.

“You go to school here?” Kelsey asked him.

“No, I just volunteer at the station,” he answered. They were still hugging.

“It is great to see you,” Jeffrey told her. But then he saw me standing there.

What was I gonna do?

I'm sure he had never realized that the drummer of Scream Static was the guy who wasted him, the one he described to the cops. He looked at me and I saw fear creep into his face. Then he looked at my watch — well, his watch. Yeah, I was still wearing it. It had brought me good luck. But as he was looking at it, I turned my hand into a fist and silently thrust it in the air. I'd kill him if he messed up this scene for us. But I also knew that he had me. If he wanted to call the cops and have me arrested, he could do it.

I tried to get eye contact. I wanted him to know I meant business. Blab on me, little brother, and you'll soon regret it. But he looked away. “Time to get you guys on-air,” he said to Kelsey and opened the door to the studio.

The interview went okay. I didn't say much. Kelsey sounded tough and sharp. Alex came off like the mommy's boy he is. All I got to say was that I learned everything I knew about drumming from playing drums since I was about twelve. The truth is, I was sweating it because I was there in this little room with no place to run if Jeffrey wanted to call the law on me. I could feel a dribble of sweat sneak out and trickle down from my armpit hairs. It made me really angry that a little worthless piece of nothing could get me worried like this.

On the way out, I was relieved to see Jeffrey was gone. I reckoned my silent threat was enough for a wimp like that to not take chances with getting me in trouble. I was doing okay after all.

Things only got better after that. During lunch at school, a couple of kids let me know they loved our tunes. Someone even tried to play a song of ours with the other lame music on the sound system in the cafeteria. But it was quickly cut off. Alex tried to protest this to the school principal but it didn't do any good, of course. And even the local newspaper had a story about our tune being censored in the school.

Kelsey and I thought the publicity for the band was pretty decent. The paper said “The Condom Song'' had “brought back to life the dead issue of installing condom machines in the school washrooms.” But some parents were “offended and deeply disturbed by the language on the two songs.” Alex was quoted as saying that the music was an expression of “freedom of speech.” Mr. Alphonse had made the case to the press that it was “the music itself that had turned out to be such a bad influence on what was once one of the top students in the school.” This was a reference to our boy Alex, just so you don't get confused. Not me.

It was all just fine with me. I could handle the hassles from any old bat or bean counter who wanted to call us names. Trouble was what I liked. Trouble was my middle name. Kelsey didn't seem to mind it, either. She was getting tougher by the minute. “People do listen to the words,” she insisted.

Meanwhile, Alex had to put up with his mother and father telling him that his fellow band members were flushing his life down the crapper. He was having second thoughts about being in the band.

Kelsey and I never saw it coming at all. I guess his parents had really done a number on the guy. He was looking down at the floor when he told us. The words hit us like a hammer to the skull. “I'm thinking of quitting,” he told us. “It's costing me too much.”

But Alex didn't quit. He knew we had too much going for us. He missed a couple of practices and by then it was too late for him to make us change our minds about Barry. Kelsey and I both liked the guy. We all had this in common: we lived for the music. What came out of the recording sessions in the basement was nothing short of a miracle. Barry knew we were ready for a live audience. We were flying high when he announced, “I've got a job for you.”

Barry had managed a couple of bar bands before. I figured he must have lied about our ages and got us a booking at a tavern or something. “We get free beer with it?” I asked.

“No. No free beer. Sorry about that, Cody. It's not that sort of gig.”

“We'll settle for juice and cookies,” Kelsey said. “What is it?”

“I rented a hall. We'll promote it on CKDU, put posters up all over town. I think we can pack the joint.”

“How much we gonna make?”

“Depends on how many people come through the door. First we pay off the rental, then you guys get all but ten percent. Agreed?”

It sounded okay to me.

“What if nobody shows?” Kelsey asked.

“Then I lose my shirt,” Barry said, “and you hoodlums get a great place to practise for the night.”

The night of the gig, the place was packed, jammed tight with all kinds of people. I'd never been so nervous in all my life. We were set up, ready to blast the place. Barry had even rented a dynamite sound system that he was monitoring. It was like big time.

It was a really weird mix of people — street kids, straight kids from school, Black kids from here in the North End . . . and then I spotted my thug friends, Eric, Jordan, and Logan. What were they doing here? Unfortunately, I could guess the answer.

We started off with “The Condom Song.” That got everybody revved up because it was what had established our rep. Then we peeled off into a couple of Kelsey's other tunes and I was working away at the drums, feeling like I had just become a superstar. We had all come back together with the music, despite recent differences. That was the way our band was. We fought. We argued. We disagreed. And then when it came down to the music, we worked at it until we were right on the money. Tonight we were like gold.

But, like my old man used to say, “You go flying too high with the birds and you're gonna crash.” The night was going too good.

I noticed Jordan had more than just Logan and Eric along. He had scraped up some other dregs to join him. They were hanging around the back of the hall like the scum line after you drain the bathtub. Our music was loud so we could drown out their insults, but between songs Jordan and his boys were shouting some really nasty stuff. It was mostly directed at Kelsey — you know, the kind of stuff guys say. Kelsey was trying to ignore it but I knew that wasn't her style. She looked at Alex and said the name of the song I hoped she wouldn't under the circumstances.

Too late. Alex was already launched into the wailing guitar lead of “Downtown Dangerous.” I had no choice but to pick up the beat and get into it. “I want to dedicate this one to the boys in the back,” Kelsey said. Bad news. Whatever happened to the old days when women knew when to keep their mouths shut? I tried playing so loud that maybe no one would hear the lyrics, but tonight Kelsey had volume. Barry had already cranked up the vocals so even I couldn't whack hard enough on the drum kit to drown her out.

Kelsey was looking straight at the boys when she sang the lines:

Problems on the street are the people you meet,

animals, cannibals, racists, and creeps,

so stupid and weak they can barely speak

so they beat up on us, they'll pick anyone,

then hide in the dark or they chicken and run.

That was Kelsey. Never knew when to keep her opinions to herself. I'd heard the lyrics over and over. I knew where I fit into it but I figured it was only a song. It didn't mean anything. Just a bunch of words. And I liked the way the tune went. I had a great little drum solo near the tail end of it. But now, I guess, this song about the street had gone political.

I looked out into the crowd. Maybe we could just keep the instrumental part of the song going for like a really long time, maybe seven hours. Eventually everybody would just go home. Nothing would happen. Unfortunately, I saw more people coming into the room now. Some of Alex's buddies from school — real clean-cut front-row types. I saw some really fine looking babes come in too. And then, haunting me like a ghost — Jeffrey. Couldn't the guy take a hint?

The song ended. Alex leaned my way and said, “I'm gonna take a real quick break. I'll be right back.”

Before I could say anything, he was off the stage, heading towards the door to meet his friends, Danny and Craig. I guess he was going to have them come up front or something because they had never come to hear us practise. This was a big deal that some of Alex's buds had arrived. But it was mighty bad timing.

Kelsey's words had thrown Jordan's maniac lever into high gear. He and his buddies saw Alex coming. To Jordan, Alex and his friends were a bunch of emo whiners. That's just the way his mind worked. So Jordan figured it was a great time to move in. The goons followed. In a matter of seconds, Alex, Danny, and Craig were surrounded.

Eric quickly knocked Danny to the floor and yanked off his jacket. Jordan was calling him names. Logan tripped Alex and Craig looked for an exit, but one of Eric's friends shoved him back into this little arena. This was their game and they knew how to play it well. I knew what they were trying to do. They were trying to wreck our big event. Man, I wasn't going to get down there and get involved. Whatever happened, I knew that I'd end up losing so I stayed put.

Barry was trying to get at the centre of things. All the kids had circled around but nobody really knew what was going on. Then I saw Jordan about to punch Alex in the face only to have his fist grabbed by Jeffrey. Oh my god, this was going to be ugly. If it wasn't for the fact that it was ruining the music, I would have loved this scene. I had a great seat up on stage. I could see everything. But tonight was different.

Before Jordan could get a good hold on Jeffrey, Kelsey was off the stage like a bolt of lightning and barging into the middle of things. She drove a fist into Jordan's crotch and told him to let go of Alex. “Get out of here. All of you!” she shouted.

I think Jordan actually felt the punch because he let go of Jeffrey and stood there staring at her in total disbelief. His cronies were laughing at him now and I knew that we were moving into hurricane season.

Realizing I now had no choice but to get into the middle of things, I reluctantly left my drums and shoved my way into the middle of the arena.

“You touch her,” I told Jordan, “and I'll hit you so hard your eyeballs are going to squirt out your ears.”

Yeah, it had to come down to me and Jordan. He had about fifty pounds more than me on his side and he carried knuckles and maybe a knife. He wouldn't lose any sleep if he killed me. If anything happened to him, he had a very loyal gang with him who would settle up the problem by dismembering me in front of the crowd. So I wasn't exactly the happiest guy on the planet.

I knew Barry was screaming at me to not get involved but his path was blocked by part of the Jordan gang. Craig and Danny were getting up off the floor. Alex was looking for a safe escape route. Kelsey was screaming something at Jordan that was less than complimentary. And I took the first punch hard on my left ear. I felt my brain kind of slide from one side to the other, until I could get my balance. Then I planted a big one in Jordan's gut, knowing that he was very proud of his bloated pot belly and that this was the place to injure his pride.

Jordan just smiled and reached out with two hands like a pair of lobster claws and tried to get my head into a vice lock. I tripped him, then tried to tromp on his face only he rolled away and pulled me down, then drove a knee into my back. When I found my way back up onto my feet, I hit him in the jaw. He hit me back and I felt the first dribble of blood sliding down my chin. That was when I realized we were both smiling. I hadn't had this kind of fun in a long time.

We were both breathing hard. We heard Eric yelling at us. He had Jeffrey in a headlock. “Guys, you're wasting your energy. Stop hassling each other. Look who I got here. Come on. Have some real fun.” I looked at Jordan and suddenly it was like old times. We felt like brothers. We smiled. I'd forgotten all about the music. Eric said, “Come on, Cody, you first. You did it before. You can do it again.”

I didn't like that. Now it was out of the can. Kelsey was watching me like a hawk. Okay, okay. I started towards Eric. The least I could do was make him let Jeffrey go. We didn't need this. But I guess Kelsey wasn't so good at reading the look on my face when I had one puffed up eye and a drizzle of blood. Suddenly she charged at me and bit hard on my arm. I yelled and nearly wonked her one but caught myself just in time. She really thought I was going to batter poor Jeffrey.

Well, that's when the cops showed up. They moved towards us through the crowd. Somebody with a megaphone told everyone to leave the building and to get off the property. Our first gig was over.

I tried to just fade on back toward my drums and pretend I wasn't involved. But a pair of cops had circled round and “wanted to talk” to me as well as to Jordan, Eric, Jeffrey, and Kelsey.

One of the policemen recognized Jeffrey. “You want to tell us what was going on here?” he asked.

I wondered then if Jeffrey, too, thought I was ready to trash him . . . to trash him again. He had no reason to believe otherwise, I guess. All he had to do was say the words and I'd be arrested. I realized I was still wearing his stupid watch. He could have nailed Jordan and Eric as well. Typically, Logan had squeezed through some rathole and made it clear of the hall before the cops got us.

I waited for Jeffrey to point the finger and for the police to collar me. “It was all a misunderstanding,” he said. “That's all it was.”

The same cop looked at Kelsey. “You wanna explain this?”

“It's like he said. It was just a misunderstanding.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed my arm where I felt the indentations left by Kelsey's teeth.