Shattered Hearts

by Coral McCallum

  The students all nodded.

  “I’ll be out in the rehearsal studio,” continued Jake. “If Dr Marrs doesn’t need you in here then feel free to join me out there. Let’s have some fun today.”

  “Jake,” interrupted Dr Marrs from the control room door. “I need your input for about an hour first.”

  “You do?”

  “I do,” replied the producer formally. “These young recording stars and I were chatting. We feel you’ve not pulled your weight for this album for the school. We all think you need to lay down a sixth track for it.”

  “And when did you all decide this?” quizzed Jake curiously.

  “This morning,” said Nicole with a wink. “Will you record a song for us? The kids would love to see you at work in the studio. Plus, a Jake Power track will boost CD sales and help the school fundraising drive.”

  “Ok. Not a problem,” agreed Jake. “Did you all agree what I was to play too?”

  “The song you made us learn in an hour,” said Cody. “That was tough.”

  Nodding, Jake said, “Ok, I’ll record you an acoustic version of Depths. Give me half an hour to warm up.”

  “I’m feeling generous,” called back Dr Marrs. “Have a whole hour. Cody and Carlos, I need you guys in here for the first hour.”

  Mid-morning, Dr Marrs called Jake through to the live room to record Depths. Keen to see a professional at work, all ten of the students, plus Josh, Sam and Nicole squeezed into the control room to watch.

  Settling himself on a low stool with one of the studio’s acoustic guitars, Jake felt more than a little nervous.

  “Best of three, Jim?” he proposed hopefully.

  “Let’s see what you can pull out of the bag, Mr Power,” replied the producer calmly. “I’ll start the tape. Play in your own time.”

  Focussing on the guitar in his hands and the lyrics in his mind, Jake mentally shut out the rest of the world and played the Silver Lake classic track straight from the heart. He played it through three times without missing a note and was just about to start a fourth run through when Jim called through, “And we’re done. Thank you, Mr Power.”

  Grinning, Jake could hear the student applauding his efforts.

  “Thanks, Jim.”

  “We were done after the first take,” called back the producer. “But the kids were loving it so I let you keep going.”

  With a laugh, Jake got to his feet, declaring, “Was that payback, guys?”

  While Dr Marrs coached the students in their pairings through the production he was completing on their songs, Jake took the others out into the rehearsal studio for an impromptu jam session. Shortly before lunch, Paul arrived armed with cheeseburgers, fries and donuts for them all. Delighted to be included with the older students, Josh and Sam did their best to take part. Instead of Jake tutoring Josh, it was Dorrian who took the youngster under his wing and sat teaching him the rudiments. Once lunch was over, Paul called Sam over to the practice kit and spent an hour or so tutoring him. Everyone was relaxed and joking with one another. No egos on display. After some coaxing, even Nicole was convinced to deliver a drum solo.

  Finally, Dr Marrs called them all back through to the lounge.

  “Well, kids, you’ve done it. Six songs recorded. Congratulations!” declared the producer.

  The lounge erupted with wild cheering from the students.

  “Kola and I will finish working our magic on these over the next few days. I’ll let Miss Tonriverdi know when we’re done,” continued Dr Marrs. “Can I just add how impressed I’ve been with you all. If you keep with the commitment and discipline that you’ve demonstrated this week, you’ll not go wrong in this business.”

  “Class,” said Nicole calmly. “How about a huge cheer for Dr Marrs, Kola and Jake. Don’t forget Paul too.”

  Once the cheers and whistles died down, Jake shouted, “Class dismissed” prompting a fresh round of enthusiastic celebrations.

  As he gazed round the lounge, noting the happy students all smiling and laughing, Jake silently wished that Rich was there to share in the success of the workshop.

  Squeals of laughter echoed out from the house as Jake sat on the deck idly playing guitar. After saying goodbye to Lucy and the boys, he’d spent most of the next two days closeted away in the basement writing. With the pressure of the workshop lifted, he could finally relax a bit and regroup his focus on his own creative efforts. By combining some of the pieces from Rich’s laptop along with his own input, he’d added two complete songs plus two partially completed ones to the stockpile for the next Silver Lake album.

  Half listening to the kids enjoying a noisy bath time, Jake slowly picked out a melody line. His lyrics journal lay open on the table beside him, a half-completed lyric scrawled on the page. He was conscious that the songs he had amassed so far were all tinged with anger and that this one was proving to be no different. During his last guitar lesson with Josh before they had left for home, his nephew had opened up his heart to him about his dad. Listening to the pain behind the young boy’s words had torn at Jake’s soul. The half-written song in front of him was an open letter from the vocalist to an absent father. It had opened up a lot of his own parental scars, setting free years of pent up anger and frustration.

  As the music absorbed his thoughts, the kids’ squeals melted away.

  “Like that,” commented Lori as she set a cold beer down on the table beside him.

  Looking up, Jake realised it had grown dark and that the only background noise was the waves breaking down on the beach.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “It’s gone nine,” replied Lori, settling herself on the sun lounger. “Kids are sound asleep. Thank God! It’s been a long day.”

  “Sorry,” apologised Jake with a smile. “Guess I’ve not been much help.”

  “You’ve been working. It’s fine,” said Lori softly. “They’re just missing the boys. I met Maddy at the timber playground for an hour so that helped to wear them out. She said to remind you about the band meeting tomorrow at JJL.”

  “Shit, I’d forgotten about that. We’re meeting to agree the set for the memorial show,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair.

  “When do rehearsals for that start?”

  “August 25th,” replied Jake. “We’ve a couple of press interviews next week. Jethro mailed me dates, times and places. All local.”

  “Then its straight back into JJL, isn’t it?” checked Lori, worried that this was all happening too fast for him.

  Jake nodded, “Same day as Miss M starts school.”

  “Doesn’t seem that long since I was lying here giving birth to her,” mused Lori, thinking back to their daughter’s dramatic entrance into the world.

  “Both of them are growing up way too fast,” admitted Jake, laying his guitar down as he got to his feet. “Maybe it’s time we added another little battery to the Power pack.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Lori swiftly. “Lord knows how I’d cope with three kids!”

  Moving across the deck to sit beside her, Jake said, “You’d be fabulous as ever, li’l lady. You’re an awesome mom to those little guys.”

  “Flatterer!”

  Gently, Jake ran his hand over his wife’s flat stomach, “Wouldn’t it be awesome if there was another little person in there? Feeling them moving and seeing tiny feet jab out was incredible.”

  “No,” stated Lori firmly. “You try carrying an above-average sized baby around for nine months once never mind expecting me to do it for a third time. Those last few weeks before Jesse arrived almost broke me, rock star.”

  “I guess,” sighed Jake, acknowledging that his petite wife had a point. Jesse had been a ten-pound baby and been delivered by emergency C-section. He’d also been a very fractious baby, who rarely slept for more than a couple of hours at a time.

  “Let’s leave the baby-making to Grey and Kola,” laughed Lori. “She’s positively glowing just now despite the size of that belly
.”

  “Grey said they want at least another one,” confided Jake. “Think he’s secretly hoping for a boy.”

  “Kola said the same,” revealed Lori, sitting up. “Rather her than me.”

  “Come on, li’l lady,” said Jake with a wink. “If we can’t make babies, let’s make love instead.”

  Giggling at his cheesy comment, Lori allowed him to help her to her feet and lead her into the house.

  Mercury levels were rising again as Jake parked the truck in his usual spot out at JJL next morning. A dark bank of clouds was rolling in, threatening the area with a thunderstorm. Silently, he hoped it would be the only storm of the day. As usual, he was the last to arrive.

  “Twenty bucks in the pot, Mr Power,” called out Grey as Jake strolled into the lounge, his twenty-dollar bill held aloft.

  “I know. I know,” he said, passing the bill to the band’s bass player. “No excuses. I’m late.”

  “You’re always late,” said Jethro calmly. “One of these days, you’ll shock the hell out of us and be early!”

  “I admire your optimism,” laughed Jake as he fetched himself a coffee before joining them at the table.

  “Ok,” began Maddy sharply. “We closed the poll for the fan vote at midnight. Before I give you the results, how many songs are you planning to play? Are you adding any new ones? Any covers of songs that Rich would’ve wanted? Where are your minds at?”

  “Personally speaking,” started Grey. “I think we aim for eighteen or twenty songs. We need to give the fans their full two hours.”

  “I agree,” said Paul, drumming his fingers on the table. “Maybe we should throw in a couple of covers.”

  “Which ones?” asked Jethro.

  “Enter Sandman would get my vote,” replied Jake without hesitation. “Plus, I think we add in that new one we’ve been messing with.”

  Grey nodded slowly.

  “So, eighteen fan choices plus the Metallica cover and the new song?” checked Maddy bluntly.

  “Works for me,” said Grey, helping himself to a donut from the box in the centre of the table.

  “Me too,” sighed Jake.

  “And me,” added Paul.

  “That was easier than I thought,” commented Maddy with a sigh of relief. “Ok, so the songs the fans voted for are…”

  Methodically, the band’s manager ran through the list of songs that the Silver Lakers had chosen as their favourites. As they listened to the list, the three band members exchanged glances and the occasional nod. Some of the songs chosen by the fans surprised them; others were firm favourites and set regulars.

  “We can work with that,” acknowledged Jake calmly. “There’s a few in there that will need a bit of work. Been a while since we played some of those.”

  “Remember that you’ve a few guests coming along too,” prompted Jethro.

  “Yeah. That’ll help,” agreed Grey. “Not that any of them are bass players.”

  “I’m sure Luke would help you out,” commented Jake. “We’ve already got Ellen, Tailz and Cal on side. Plus, Garrett’s promised to play too.”

  “Maybe,” muttered Grey into his cold coffee.

  “So, who do you have confirmed as guests?” asked Maddy, her tone shrill and business-like.

  “The guys from After Life, Mikey, Garrett and I’m waiting to hear back from Tori,” rhymed off Jake.

  “When do you get to rehearse with them?” quizzed Jethro, trying to figure out the logistics in his head.

  “We don’t,” laughed Jake. “If there’s time at the soundcheck, we can run through some of it. We just need to be smart here. Let’s try to play songs with our guests that we’ve done in the past with them where possible.”

  “Makes sense,” stated Grey.

  “It’ll be fine,” added Paul quietly. “Give the three of us time and space to work on this. We’ll look at the running order and the timings. There’s a few big asks on that list musically and vocally.”

  “There sure are,” conceded Jake. “And I’ve not tested my voice since that last show in LA back in June. There’s a few songs on there that I might just struggle with.”

  “Has it given you any issues over the summer?” demanded Maddy sharply.

  “A few when I was out here with the kids from the high school. Nothing major. I’ll be fine.”

  “We can pace this one,” added Grey. “Leave the three of us in peace to work on this. We’ll pull this off if it kills us.”

  “We trust you boys,” said Jethro, keeping his stern gaze on Maddy. “Work it up then let us know the plan.”

  Pushing his chair out from the table, the band’s silver-haired manager said, “Come on, Maddison. We need to go call Lord Jason. He’s wanting facts and figures from us.”

  Once their managers had left, the three members of Silver Lake helped themselves to more coffee then sat working through the eighteen songs. After an hour of debate, Jake said, “Stop. We’re overthinking this shit.”

  “We are, Mr Power?” replied Grey, raising his eyebrows as he stared across the table at him.

  “Yes,” stated Jake firmly. “Let’s split this into three segments. First half dozen songs as normal, play an extended acoustic slot then have our guests in the final sector. We can close it out with Engine Room. Then we can do a three-song encore of Enter Sandman, the new song and close it all out with Flyin’ High.”

  “That could work,” agreed Paul, seeing the logic in the split.

  “We need to see if we can still remember how to play half of these,” laughed Grey. “Been quite a few years since we touched some of these.”

  “Sure has,” agreed Jake before adding with a laugh, “Rich must be pissing himself at us trying to sort this out.”

  “Well, as long as he’s watching over us on the night, we’ll be sweet,” growled Grey sourly.

  With only two days to go before the show, tensions were running high in the rehearsal studio at JJL. Silver Lake had been holed up there all week and, by Thursday lunchtime, nerves were beginning to show and tempers were short.

  “Fucking piece of shit!” yelled Paul as he split his third drum head of the week.

  Dodging a flying drumstick, Jake said, “A new batch will be here tomorrow. We know there’s s flaw with those. Chill, Paul.”

  “I know. I know,” he grumbled as he got off his stool to fetch a fresh drum head.

  “Let’s grab some lunch,” suggested Grey, aware of his stomach rumbling.

  “Can we run through Vortex first?” asked Jake as he adjusted the tuning on his Mz Hyde custom.

  “Ok, then I’m doing a burger run,” stated Grey. “Where’s Todd? We need him for this one.”

  “Restroom,” replied Jake. “When did we last play this one? Two? Three years ago?”

  “Must be,” nodded Grey. “Fans always did like it.”

  “Yeah but it’s a tough one to sing then carry off the rest of the set.”

  “You happy enough with it slotted in just before the acoustic set?” checked Paul. “We could move it up nearer the end. Swap it round with Another Turn Of The Screw?”

  “It’s good where it is. Tuning works for the guitar changes too.”

  Agreeing the running order of the eighteen songs had been an arduous task. The three musicians had spent the best part of a day in the basement at the beach house debating different combinations before finally agreeing on the setlist in front of them. Each of them had voiced their personal concerns then, when they’d shown Todd the plans, he’d added his fears to the mix. Although he’d played on a semi-regular basis as a third guitarist, the younger man was anxious that his presence on stage would be seen as an attempt to fill Rich’s shoes. Resuming teacher/mentor mode, Jake had spoken to him at length, reassuring him that the band needed him on stage and that it was what Rich would’ve wanted too.

  “Vortex!” called out Grey as Todd returned to the room.

  “Got it,” answered Todd as he slipped his guitar strap back across his shoulders.<
br />
  It took them three attempts before Jake was happy with the arrangement. Vortex was always a song he’d enjoyed a love/hate relationship with. While the vocals were all in his mid-range, the music was more technical and the solos were tricky.

  “Good job!” called out Paul. “Lunch!”

  “Great job on that solo, Todd,” complimented Jake sincerely. “You nailed it.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  “Ok, who wants what for lunch?” asked Grey.

  With their food orders placed, Grey and Todd left to fetch lunch while Paul said he was going outside to call Maddy. In need of some caffeine, Jake wandered back across to the main building. There was no one in the live room but Dr Marrs was working in his office. A familiar jacket and bag lay on one of the couches in the lounge. As he made a fresh pot of coffee, Jake could hear voices coming from the office.

  Just as he was adding the half’n’half to his coffee, he felt a movement behind him.

  “Hi, Jake.”

  There was a seductive purr to the greeting.

  “Hi, Nicole,” he replied as he turned round. “What brings you out here?”

  “I had an appointment with Dr Marrs to pick up the demo CDs,” explained the music teacher, taking a step towards him.

  “Jim gave me a copy last night. Sounds great.”

  “The kids are coming into school tomorrow to hear it. Want to join us?” she invited, inching closer. “They’d love it if you were there.” She paused. “I’d love it if you were there.”

  “I don’t know,” began Jake, starting to feel flustered by her close proximity. “We’ve still a lot of work to do out here before Saturday.”

  “We’re meeting at one-thirty,” continued Nicole. “See what you can manage.”

  Before Jake could stop her, Nicole had reached out and gently run her hand down his arm until she was holding his hand.

  “I miss working with you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “Nicole,” began Jake in protest.

  His words were lost as she kissed him full on the lips. Twisting her fingers in his long blonde hair, she kissed him harder, trying to prise his lips apart with the tip of her tongue.