AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My mother had had a lot to do with that philosophy, keeping me far too busy to spend much time online. I didn’t agree with the ‘experts’ claiming net culture made kids deranged, but I was still happy for the focus.
As far as I could tell, the internet was no different than any other information medium and the current paranoia about it was basically akin to the anti-television propaganda in the 80s and 90s. But I did appreciate living in the real world even more.
Finally giving in to the digital gods for the first time that day, I checked my email, hoping for the best before mild disappointment started rolling in. There was nothing in my inbox from Thom, and I was reminded yet again of why I hated checking my email.
After I was done polishing off my morning smoothie, the gears in my brain shifted to my immediate needs. As someone who frequently got so caught up in the la-la-land of my mind that I often lost track of time in real life, I was happy to realize that this morning, there was just enough time available to get to work punctually.
The adjustment didn’t take long. Even though my imagination had run far away, once I was back in the workshop, the sight of the partially strung bow on the bench reminded me of my lot in life. I was often the fixer, rarely the player, as was so often the case— like writers who worked as editors because it was close to what they truly wanted to do and kept the creditors at bay.
Locking in tight to my work, I got into the zone, my fingers working almost automatically as the hairs in the string instrument’s bow grew thicker all the time. It was coming closer to resembling how it was meant to look with each passing minute.
The work, while a grind, was rewarding in itself, and I felt as if I was making a contribution to the music world in a different way than the musicians who played the instruments, I worked on were.
It was important work, like the crew in the theatre. They were rarely acknowledged in the culture but without them, the actors would be shouting naked in the dark.
Noon came faster than usual, so fast that it got to be ten minutes past the hour before I noticed. I was officially a contractor, setting my own schedule. As long as I had the work in a reasonable time, everything was gravy, but I did try and stick to a tight schedule of quickly completed projects.
I was glad I could leave and go to lunch, as my stomach was growling. Once I was greeted by the digi-bell, my usual order was already waiting on the counter when I got into the café. That was one of the advantages of having a regular haunt.
Gustavo was nowhere to be seen, but I suspected he had something to do with my sandwich being ready.
Once I was indulging in a carb and caffeine paradise— two of my very few true vices in life— the rest of the world seemed to fall away. A
t least until my phone rang.
“Hello?”
I sort of recognized the number, so there was reason to hope.
“Hi, Pauline?”
“Yes.”
“Thom Aaronsen here. I’ve talked to the guys, and we’ve all agreed we would like you to join us. Not just as a guest player or session musician, but as a full member entitled to an equal portion of the money. And you get voting rights, too.”
“Thank you,” I blurted, my natural manners coming through.
“You’re welcome,” he said brightly. “Our next gig is this weekend. Do you think you can learn the set list by then?”
“Um, sure. If not, I can just follow the score.”
“Great! I’ll send you PDFs of the sheet music tonight.”
“Thank you,” I said again.
It was like I was stunned into blissful near silence, the only two words coming out of my mouth being a repetitive utterance of gratitude.
“We have another practice tomorrow night,” Thom continued, “if that works for you.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Cool, see you then.”
Resisting the urge to break out into song and dance, I got the dial pad back up. Then I plugged in my best friend’s number, fully intending to gloat.
“Hello,” she answered breezily.
“Guess what just happened?” I exclaimed.
“Something that doesn’t involve fixing instruments all day?”
“Yes! You know me so well.”
“That’s so great. Tell me all about it. How have you been? I know I’ve been really busy with the little ones.”
“Yeah. No problem; I understand. Things have been good, but they just got better.”
“Ooh, tell me!”
“Tonight. I don’t want to say it over the phone.”
“Okay, I’ll play. Theo has the night off and can watch the kids. Meet me at the Black Friar?”
“It’s a date.”
Becca and I were thick as thieves in college, both going through different aspects of the music program. I’d gone through early, so we were roughly the same age but as she got her undergrad, I was finishing off my Master’s thesis.
