Gradually, the lyrics began to filter through along with a slow dark melody line. Reaching for his journal and a pen, Jake scribbled them down furiously then played over the piece of music a few times, singing softly under his breath to ensure the words fitted with the music.
His nephew had edged closer while he’d been writing.
“Like it?” asked Jake without looking up.
“It’s great,” replied Josh enthusiastically. “Kind of creepy. Scary creepy.”
“You think?”
“Yes. It’s like there’s fear in it.”
“Well done,” nodded Jake with a smile. “That’s the emotion I was after. A sense of dread. Fear. Fear of the unknown.” He paused, “That’s not a bad title.”
Quickly, he scrawled “Fear of the Unknown” at the top of the page in his journal.
“Are lyrics like poems?” quizzed Josh watching him.
“Sometimes,” replied Jake. “They don’t necessarily rhyme in the same way as poetry. They need to fit into the rhythm of the music and you need a chorus too.”
“Do you always have the music first?”
“Sometimes,” replied Jake. “I tend to go with the flow of my train of thought. Sometimes you write the melody or the hook or you have a piece that would make a great chorus. Other times you have words that are crying out for music to go with them. It’s not an exact science. I try to write from the heart and I trust my gut. If it feels right, it usually is right.”
“Sounds like you make it all up as you go along,” muttered Josh, looking a little disheartened.
“I guess I do but don’t tell anyone,” said Jake warmly. “You looking forward to our trip tomorrow?”
“Yeah but Mom won’t tell me where we’re going.”
“You and I are going to see a friend of mine over in Lewes after I finish school.”
“Just you and me?”
“Yes. Is that ok with you?”
“Sweet,” sighed Josh, obviously pleased to be getting his famous uncle all to himself for a while.
“I’ll get your mom to bring you out to the school and we can leave straight from there. Gives us more time.”
By the end of the school day on Tuesday, Jake was almost at the end of his tether. Nerves were setting in amongst his students and he’d spent all afternoon trying to reassure them that their songs sounded great and they were more than capable of performing them out at JJL. He almost let out an audible sigh of relief when the bell sounded at the end of class.
“OK, guys,” he called out. “I’ll meet you all out at JJL at nine tomorrow. Be here no later than eight-thirty. Miss Tonriverdi has arranged transport for you all. Remember to bring your instruments, lyrics and any other lucky charms you think you’ll need.”
Grabbing his own guitar case and book bag, Jake followed the last student out of the classroom and down the hallway. He waved to Nicole, who was working in the teacher base, on his way past then hurried out to the car park to meet Lucy and Josh.
Much to his surprise, he found Lori and the kids outside as well as his sister and her boys.
“Family outing?” he asked as he unlocked the truck.
“We’re going to the outlets for an hour or two,” explained Lori as she hugged him. “Do you need anything?”
“Can you pick me up some jeans and a pair of black Converse hi-tops?”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“If you see a shirt or something that would do for the memorial show can you grab it?”
“I’ll see what I can find,” promised Lori then, spotting a tall, dark haired woman approaching them, asked softly, “Who’s that?”
“Nicole,” he whispered before turning to face the head of the music department.
“Family party?” asked Nicole brightly as she reached them.
“Kiddie handover,” replied Jake. “I’m taking my nephew on an errand with me. The others are going shopping.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” prompted Lori, discretely eyeing up the tall slender music teacher.
“Sorry,” apologised Jake. “Nicole, this is my wife, Lori, my sister, Lucy, her two boys, Josh and Sam. The two little monsters in the back seat are my kids, Melody and Jesse.”
“Pleased to meet you all,” purred Nicole, not taking her eyes off Jake for a second. “Beautiful kids.”
“Thank you,” said Lori plainly. “You’ll need to come out to the house sometime. Jake’s told us so much about you. I hear you’re new in town too.”
“I’ve been here a few months,” replied Nicole, smiling sweetly. “Still trying to find my feet. Jake’s been a Godsend helping me out at the apartment. My ex always dealt with those kind of issues.”
“Speaking of which,” interrupted Jake. “Did you pick up those fuses?”
“On my way to Lowes now.”
“Great. I’ll fit them when we finish at JJL tomorrow. Now, Josh and I need to run or we’ll be late,” replied Jake hurriedly. “Lori, we’ll be back for dinner or do you want me to bring something in?”
“You could grab something from the fish restaurant,” suggested Lori. “I’ll message you when we get home.”
“Ok. Have fun,” he said. “Josh, you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
When Jake stopped the truck outside a house just off the highway on the outskirts of Lewes, Josh turned to stare at him.
“Who lives here?”
“No one,” replied Jake, switching the engine off. “It’s a music store.”
“A store?” echoed the boy, looking confused.
“Yes. The sign’s round the other side,” explained Jake grinning. “Come on. We’re going shopping too.”
As they entered the building, Josh let out an audible gasp as his eyes scanned the main showroom. Smiling, Jake ushered him inside. The shop resembled a standard house layout inside and what would have been the lounge room was a veritable Aladdin’s cave of electric guitars. Through an archway to their left, Josh could see the back room was lined with acoustic guitars.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the legendary Jake Power,” called out an older man loudly, approaching through the archway. “It’s been a while, son.”
“Mike! Great to see you,” said Jake, embracing the older man with obvious affection. “This is my nephew, Josh.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Josh,” greeted Mike formally.
“Mike was my first guitar teacher,” revealed Jake quietly to his nephew.
“And your best,” joked the older man with a hearty laugh. “Now, what can I do for you lovely gentlemen?”
“I’m looking for an acoustic guitar for this young man,” answered Jake. “Nothing too fancy. Narrow neck ideally. Nice warm tone.”
“Price bracket?”
“Seven. Seven fifty. Maybe a bit more.”
“Follow me,” said Mike, pointing towards the back room. “I’ve a few you can try out. Oh, Jake, I’ve one you might be keen to try.”
“What you got?”
“An old Gibson from the late 1940s. Picked it up last month at a house clearance in Maryland. Showed it a bit of love. Plays like a dream.”
“I’ll take a look,” agreed Jake, curious about the vintage instrument. “But, let’s get Josh sorted out first.”
It took them almost an hour but, after checking out several acoustic guitars, Jake made his final selection for his nephew, opting for a PRS SE Angelus acoustic. The youngster watched wide-eyed as his uncle haggled over the price tag and negotiated a hard case to be thrown into the deal as well as a discount of fifty dollars.
“Now, where’s this Gibson you mentioned?” asked Jake when they’d struck a deal.
“Grab a seat and I’ll bring her out,” replied Mike. “She’s not on show. She’s in the office.”
A few moments later, he returned and handed Jake a dark sunburst finish oversized acoustic guitar. Reaching into his pocket for a pick, Jake settled down to play. With a wink to Josh, he started with the song he’d
been writing the night before then ran through a few others, a mix of Silver Lake tunes and various other rock classics.
“Nice. Very nice,” nodded Jake after he’d been playing for about forty-five minutes. “No history with it?”
“It came with the original case and receipt,” explained Mike. “But, as far as I can tell, it wasn’t owned by anyone special. Suspect it’s been bought back then for someone to learn on and then found its way into the attic. Looks like it has barely been played.”
“I could be tempted….”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a find like this,” commented Mike slowly. “Would like to see this old lady find a good home.”
“Ok, let’s talk money, Mike,” conceded Jake, running his hand lovingly over the guitar’s smooth finish.
Carrying the two guitars, Jake led his nephew back out to the truck. He sat both guitars safely on the back seat before taking his seat behind the wheel.
“Thank you,” said Josh quietly as he buckled himself in
“You’re welcome,” replied Jake warmly. “My mom bought me my first ever guitar. I still have it. Still treasure it. It doesn’t matter how many you ultimately own, that first one is special. I’m honoured to have bought you your first one.”
“I won’t let you down, Uncle Jake. I’ll practice every day.”
“I’m sure you will. Once we get home and get dinner, we’ll have a lesson. Just you and me after Melody goes to bed.”
“Promise?”
“Promise,” said Jake, starting the engine.
As they descended the steep stairs down into the basement, Josh’s eyes scanned everywhere, drinking in the drum kit in the corner, the guitar racks and the various amplifiers and cabinets. Watching his nephew’s reaction, Jake smiled, thinking that, at his age, he’d have reacted the same way.
“Take a seat,” suggested Jake as he headed towards a rack of acoustic guitars.
“I didn’t realise you had so many different guitars down here!”
Laughing, Jake revealed, “This is only about half of them. The rest are kept out at JJL with the band’s stage gear.”
“Why do you need so many?” quizzed his nephew.
“Good question,” began Jake, stalling for time to answer him. “I guess I don’t, if I’m being honest, but they all sound different. They all play differently. Some were gifts. Some I’ve collected because they are unique custom models. Some are vintage instruments like the one Mike sold me this afternoon,” He paused while he lifted his own first guitar from the rack. “This one is precious. This is my first guitar.”
“Wow!” gasped Josh, eyes wide.
Taking a seat on the stool opposite the boy, Jake settled the guitar on his knee before strumming it to check if it was in tune. He made a few adjustments, then said, “My mom bought me this when I was eighteen. My dad and my brothers used to give me a hard time because I wanted to study music. My dad was hell-bent that I’d follow my brothers into the air force. Was never going to happen.”
He paused, debating how much to disclose to his young nephew. “Your mom was just a kid so she probably doesn’t remember but things were pretty tense at home. My dad always said I was such a disappointment. Nothing I ever accomplished was good enough. I could get straight A’s in school and he would still complain. The only one who believed in me was my mom.”
“Did you learn to play at school?”
Jake nodded, “I had a great music teacher in high school. He would give me extra lessons after class and let me borrow guitars that belonged to the music department. He was friends with Mike. You know, the guy we visited earlier?”
Josh nodded.
“I begged my folks for my own guitar for Christmas and birthdays for about three years. Waste of time. My dad always said “no”,” explained Jake, remembering all too clearly the disappointment on Christmas morning as a teenager year after year. “Eventually, in my senior year, through my music teacher, I got a part-time job at Mike’s store. I traded half my paycheck for private lessons with him. He spoke to my mom one night after work when she came by to pick me up. To this day, I don’t know what he said to her. She would never say and Mike’s always said it was none of my damn business.”
Jake paused again then continued, “The day of my eighteenth birthday, my mom made a big deal about wanting to collect me from school. When she picked me up, there was a huge flat box on the back seat of her station wagon. She said it was a surprise. Was a gift just from her to me and that I wasn’t to tell anyone about it. It was this guitar.”
“And you’ve still got it?” gasped Josh. “It looks brand new!”
“First rule, take care of your instrument. Treat it like you would a lady.”
Josh flushed scarlet in front of him.
“Are all guitars girls?”
“Mine are,” replied Jake warmly. “A lot of them have names too.”
“What’s this one called?”
“I named her after my maternal grandmother,” revealed Jake softly. “Her name was Katherine.”
“Can I name mine?”
“Sure,” said Jake, grinning at his nephew.
“What was your mom’s name?” asked Josh, running his hands over the body of his own guitar.
“Cynthia,” replied Jake, picturing his mother in his mind’s eye. “But she hated her name. She preferred to be called Cindy.”
“Cindy?” repeated Josh slowly. “I like that. I never knew what her name was. Mom never talks about her much.”
“Well, now you know,” said Jake, inwardly delighted that his nephew wanted to continue the family connection. “Ok, enough talk. Let’s play!”
Next morning, Jake arrived at JJL before eight o’clock. Having parked in his usual space, he entered the building ready for his first day in the studio with his students. Half out of habit and half in expectation at having to play, he’d brought three guitars with him. A welcoming aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the empty lounge.
“Jim?” called out Jake, setting his guitars and book bag down on the couch.
“In the office. Grab a coffee. I’ll be out in a minute.”
Jake had just stirred the sugar and half’n’half into his coffee when the producer appeared.
“Sorry. Early morning call with Jason Russell,” apologised Dr Marrs as he refilled his own mug.
“And how is Lord Jason?”
“Same pompous pain in the ass as ever,” laughed Jim. “He’s signed another British band. Wants to book them in here in January for six weeks.”
“Good for business. Lori says both here and the west coast studio are more or less booked out solid six months in advance.”
“Business is booming,” agreed the producer with a grin. “Now, what young talent are you bringing my way this week?”
“Ten seniors from the high school,” began Jake. “A couple have real potential. You’ll spot them soon enough. They’ve come up with five songs to be recorded. Pretty impressive stuff for high school kids but it needs the Dr Marrs magic.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” promised the older man. “Tour then bass and drums?”
“That’s the plan. Grey and Paul are coming in. I’ll go out back with the others for guitar and vocal stuff today. Garrett promised to drop in later this afternoon and Ellen will swing by tomorrow. There’s one girl I want her to coach for me.”
“Anyone else you’re bringing to the party?”
“Just the head of the music department. She’s wanting some time with Paul. Needs a drum clinic with him if we can squeeze it in.”
“Going to be a busy few days,” mused Dr Marrs.
“Gives them a taste of the real business. Shows them its hard work and not all about those two hours a night on stage,” countered Jake, sounding like the music teacher he was at heart. “Life lessons.”
“Well, if you can instil even half of your work ethic into them then they’ll be halfway there.”
Shortly before nine, Nicole arrived with
nine of the students. After a quick roll call, Jake asked, “Where’s Miss Riley?”
“Insisted that she was driving herself out here,” replied Dorrian before Nicole could reply.
“Ok. Grab a drink before we get started,” suggested Jake. “We’ll give you the full studio tour when Riley gets here then map out the schedule for the day.”
A few minutes later, the door flew open and Riley burst into the lounge, “Sorry I’m late. I had to stop for gas.”
“No harm done,” said Jake with a smile. “We’re just about to start the tour.”
Half an hour later, as he led the class back in from the rehearsal studio, they met Grey and Kola in the lounge. Politely excusing herself, the ever-shy Kola retreated to the sanctuary of the control room while Jake introduced Silver Lake’s bass player to his students.
“Plan for the remainder of the morning,” began Jake firmly. “Drums and bass, stay here with Grey. Paul will be in soon to support. Everyone else can follow me back out to the rehearsal studio. Bring your bags and instruments with you.”
“What about me?” asked Nicole softly.
“Do you want to hang out here for this morning?” suggested Jake, checking the time. “Paul should be here in about an hour. He could do with the moral support on drums.”
Nodding, Nicole said, “Works for me.”
“Ok. Golden rules, folks,” cautioned Jake. “If the light is on above the live room and the control room doors, you do not enter. You do exactly as you are told out here. Do not touch anything you aren’t told to. Be prepared to work hard. Be prepared to stay late if necessary. Any questions?”
“Will you be playing on our songs or singing with us?” asked Angel hopefully.
“Maybe,” replied Jake. “Right, let’s get to work, folks.”
By the time Jake reconvened the class in the lounge late afternoon, each of them was exhausted. They had had a productive day and three of the tracks now had bass and drums laid down. Out in the rehearsal studio, he had fine-tuned the guitar tracks with Garrett’s help. The older musician had dropped by after lunch and supported Jake as he worked up the five guitar tracks with the young musicians. Leaving Garrett to it, Jake had then spent the final hour with the vocalists. He’d pulled Riley aside for a few minutes to prime her for her early morning tuition with Ellen. Deliberately, he had avoided revealing who was coming into JJL next morning, advising his little green-haired songbird to be at the studio, fully warmed up, by nine o’clock for a one to one vocal lesson.
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