Scale by Keith Buckley

Author:Keith Buckley
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Rare Bird Books
Published: 2015-11-13T23:07:23+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A month after the show, I received a call from the head of an independent label based out of Los Angeles, California called Elegy Records. They said Matt had sent them a copy of my demo. They said I would make a perfect addition to their roster. They said they would give me a budget of ten thousdand dollars to record a full-length record as long as I could assure them that I would tour for at least fifteen weeks out of the year, and they said that what I didn’t spend on production was mine to keep in addition to a five thousand–dollar signing bonus, which was recoupable from the merchandise I sold on tour. The 5k alone was more money than I ever knew existed in the world, but the fact that I would record my own songs meant that the 10k was also mine to keep. So as the owner of the label explained the terms and conditions, my mind left the earth on a magic carpet made of cash. I saw myself acquiring, conquering, hoarding, reaping, and, most importantly, controlling. I was not in the hands of fate, nor vulnerable to the precocious currents of time. I would eat when hungry. I would drink when dry. My needs that had been slowly fulfilled over time would be replaced by wants that were met immediately. I had domination over the fantastic territory of my childhood dreams, and that child answered for me before my adult mind could shut its mouth.

“Yes. Absolutely. I will do anything,” I told the label’s owner at the end of our phone call.

Of course, there were things that my inner child did not take into consideration, but being rational was not the duty of the inner child. It was there only to answer the call that an adult who has been deafened by obligation might not hear. The adult me was enrolled in college, while the child me whimsically strummed a guitar. The adult me had a hardworking father who was paying for my education, while the child me had a father who brought home flat vinyl circles into which were carved the voices of different gods. The adult me had made a commitment to a beautiful girl, while the child me was loved by all. The adult me had no time. The child me had eternity. The call was too loud, and it rendered the adult me inconsequential. I needed to break the news to Claire.

After her classes that Friday, Claire would, as she had been doing recently, arrive at my house with a travel bag. She spent Monday through Friday in her dorm room focused solely on her studies, but she became a temporary roommate to me, Frank, and Evan on Saturdays and Sundays, and her presence was a much needed change of scenery. She and I were young enough to still be excited about conjugal visits, and Evan and Frank welcomed the sight of a stunningly beautiful art student lounging in her underwear on the couch, smoking pot, and screaming at the football game.

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