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“It’s just this funny trick I can do.”
“See?” says Candy. “Didn’t I tell you he knew cool stuff?”
Alessa nods.
“Cool doesn’t cover it,” she says.
“Fairuza introduced us. Alessa plays guitar. Like real guitar,” Candy says.
“Nice to meet you, Alessa,” I say, holding out my hand like a gentleman or a Realtor. She takes it and we shake briefly.
Alessa looks to be in her late twenties. She’s pretty. Her red hair falls just below her shoulders. She wears a lot of kohl around her eyes, probably trying to hide the lines at their edges, lines she’s too young for. My money says she had drug problems in the past. Meth, I’d guess. Fucked up her skin some, but the addiction wasn’t so bad she lost teeth. I can tell by her smell that she’s clean now. Her heartbeat kicks up a little when our hands touch, but it’s not that she’s all excited to meet me. She’s here to see Candy and talk music. They’re just getting to know each other and suddenly the boyfriend walks in and crashes their guitar geeking. That’s easy enough to fix.
“You should hear Alessa play sometime,” Candy says. “She’s awesome. Her old band toured with Skull Valley Sheep Kill. That’s Stark’s favorite band,” she says, leaning confidentially in Alessa’s direction. She smiles.
“What’s your favorite album of theirs?” she says.
“Plan Nine from Fresno. What’s yours?”
“That’s a good one. I like Cannibal Holiday.”
“That’s a good one too.”
“Hey, maybe you saw her open one of Skull Valley’s shows,” Candy says. She turns to Alessa. “When did you tour together?”
“It was just before we recorded our album. About eighteen months ago.”
I shake my head.
“Sorry. I wouldn’t have seen you. Eighteen months ago . . .” A quick flash of pain in my head. I picture the arena for a second. “I was out of town.”
“Well, if you’re interested we have some live stuff on YouTube.”
“What should I search for?”
“‘Django’s Coffin.’”
I’m starting to warm up to her. “Is Django your favorite western?”
She shrugs.
“My old girlfriend loved it. I like it, but I like The Furies more.”
“Barbara Stanwyck. When she takes away Rip’s derringer and points it at him.”
“It’s a good way to end an argument.”
“I’ve ended a few that way myself.”
“You should show me sometime.”
“Sure. You, me, and Chihiro can go by the L.A. Gun Club.”
She makes a fist and holds it out. I make one too and we bump.
“Alessa plays surf guitar. She totally kicks Dick Dale’s ass,” says Candy. She holds up an LP that’s a bit battered at the edges. “Look what she gave me.”
The cover is greenish, with a man holding a guitar case on a long stairway. A pagoda in the background. Printed on the front is RASHOMON. TAKESHI TERAUCHI AND THE BLUE JEANS.
