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LYNN
A little while later, I was back at the bar. I held the back door open and said goodbye to Jonathan. "Yeah, I can tell she likes you...so..." I said and turned to go. "Thanks, Jon. I'll see you a little later?" It was sunny, and I should have felt warm but instead, a chill crept over my collar as I stood in the doorway.
"Yeah, no problem," he replied through the van window. "Maybe, in about an hour or so," he added. He waved as he drove off.
-----
The door shut behind me quietly.
A dim bulb hung over my head on a long wire, and a chain ending in a guitar pick that swung just out of reach. Maybe my eyes hadn't adjusted yet, but I could only see the outlines of the doorways on either side. One room at the far end was open, the light shining to me like a beacon.
I quietly moved down the hall and peeked into each room as I passed it. The first one had stacks of boxes labeled 'BAND'. Another was a closet with a dirty mop and a wet bucket, along with some fire extinguishers. A few more were closed. I approached the open door with the light and voices as slowly as I could.
A few feet from the door I stopped and listened. A phone receiver clicked into its cradle, and I heard a floof, as if someone had just flopped onto a couch or chair. That song by Siouxsie and the Banshees was playing.
Golly jeepers
Where'd you get those peepers?
Peepshow, creepshow
Where did you get those eyes?
A woman spoke. "So, what was his answer this time?" She sounded arrogant, and a little familiar.
"He said..uh..he said he hadn't changed his mind. That he would stay here no matta what. That we should leave him alone." This speaker was male, and he sounded like a New Yorker from his accent. Brooklyn, maybe. "That we'd betta just give up."
"Well that's nice," she replied, and Lynn could picture a nose in the air. All the hairs on the back of Lynn's arms stood on end. This is not a woman I'd want to meet. I started to back away from the door. "Of course, for you, he has to pretend to be strong, but I know him. He'll come back. As soon as he realizes that he's been wrong. He's a smart boy. He'll realize that this back-country town is nothing, and his future is with me. He will figure it out today, I'd bet on it." Lynn heard clinking sounds, like marbles in a glass jar. "Want one?"
"No, Ms. Rachel. I had plenty candies," the male voice answered. "Of course. You are right, Ms. Rachel. He always comes back. And then we can finally rid ourselves of the old crap from the school, right?"
I gasped involuntarily. Ms. Rachel? So, this is the band, huh? And what do they mean by that, stuff from the school? I moved one step closer to the doorway, carefully placing one sneaker at a time on the floorboards.
"Yes, of course." replied the woman's voice. "You don't think I actually meant to keep this junk, did you? We'll drop the boxes over the bridge. Just as soon as he comes back. He'll be back. Today. I know it."
"That's good, 'cause I don't like playing dog. Guard-dog, I mean." the guy replied, and let out a huffing laugh. "I'm sick of this shit. This town sucks. This bar sucks. This green room sucks." Based on the snickering, it sounded like a few guys were in the room, not just Brooklyn and Ms. R.
Rhinestone fools and silver dollars
Curdle into bitter tears
I was close enough now to touch the doorway. I couldn't see in. The door was only resting on the frame, and I put one hand out, considering. If I push it gently, they won't see me, right? Maybe I could open it wider. I rested my hand on the door a few seconds, but then let go, changing my mind again.
The voices returned. "So," she said. "When is Jonathan due back? I thought he was bringing the new recruit. Go check the alley and see if the van is there." I heard the sound of leather squeaking, like someone was moving around on a couch. Or getting up. Uh-oh. I quickly backed away from the door, and glanced back at the other rooms quickly. The closet? No, there's no room, and it was full of junk. I'd make a racket hiding in there. I promptly moved to the other room and pulled the door almost shut behind me. It swung open an inch, and stayed. I stood very still, listening. I can't hear them, or the music at all anymore.
I blinked, and my eyes adjusted. A tiny, dirty window high on one wall was the only light. As I had seen before, the room was just piles of band equipment. If they came in here, I'd be caught for sure. Where to hide? There was a gap between one pile of boxes and the wall. I squeezed into the opening, and tried to slow my breathing. I checked my watch. 12:30pm. Jonathan is running late, I know he won't be in the alley yet. I'll give they guy a few minutes to walk to the alley, and come back, before I try to get out. Time to wait.
This would be easy. I just closed my eyes and imagined myself back home, standing in front of my record player. I mentally flipped through my record collection. Def Leppard. The Beatles. Bob Dylan. Pink Floyd. I rested my hands on Pink Floyd and imagined choosing Dark Side of the Moon. I unfolded the sleeve, then slid the record out. I carefully rested the record into the player. I could feel the edges of the disc against my palm, felt it sliding over and then nesting into the tiny rounded pin. The record fell onto the round mat, and I turned on the power. I dreamed that my fingers lifted the needle, and I blew on it gently to remove any lingering dust. Carefully I laid the arm into the first track, and watched the turntable spin. The music began.
After a few songs, I checked my watch again, then the doorway. I let myself take a deep breath of relief, and let my eyes roam over the boxes, which were piled into high towers all around the room. The tower nearest the doorway had a few with writing on them that I couldn't read in the muted light.
I tried to stand up without disturbing anything, and moved over to get a closer look at the writing. Another box was on the floor, that seemed to be of the same type, and it was all by itself. I opened the lid and reached inside, pulled out something hard and round, and held it up to the light to see.
They were headphones, big over the ear headphones with a long cord. There was a prominent label, which said, "Department of Music - Stonyfield University".
I quickly reached back into the box and pulled out another object, this one, rectangular. Holding it up I realized it was a cassette player, just like the kind from the music library.
Oh my gosh. Really?
I can't believe it. I leaned back against the wall, still holding the items in my hands.
The missing music, the stolen music is here? I turned the items over and over in my hands. They said school stuff, and it's right here, but I still don't believe it. Maybe I shouldn't have touched it, it's evidence in a robbery. What do I do now? Do I call the police? How?
Suddenly I felt the stack behind me sway, realizing too late that in the darkness, I had been leaning on boxes and not a wall. I leaned forward but too late to stop the mountain from collapsing. I screamed as I was pushed to the floor, and something heavy hit my head. Everything went black.
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