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Braving the dawn streets, my sneakers hit concrete, covering the distance from proximity parking. I was heading to Shadow Realm Records, to help out my friend Ana who owned the store.
Almost all the locals were on good terms with her, and her store was the main place in town to get Suspicious Activity releases. It was also an unofficial hang out for the community.
So, when the worst nearly happened— she was hurt by a gang of religious nuts who thought she was the devil for selling Metal music— and she needed some time away, I couldn’t be more honored when she asked me to mind the shop in her absence.
I still wanted to do some unspeakable things to the assholes who tried to burn her as a witch, but Sven had that covered. I instead focused on keeping her business running as she tried to heal physically and emotionally. The trauma was a lot to get over.
Careful on the steps, I reached the subterranean sanctuary. Then the lights came on with such blinding that it might put bats to flight.
Once I was behind the register, I prepared for the onslaught on customers. Weekends were particularly known for rushes. Everybody had just gotten paid from their day jobs and had time to kill.
It was no worse than usual today though and had settled down to a manageable trickle come lunchtime. Most of the usual suspects waited until the noon hour to show up, in a bid to avoid some of the more excited new converts.
That was something Seth really deserved credit for. Suspicious Activity and the community it belonged to were truly multi-generational. Members ranged in age from teenagers, to lifers like him who were suddenly in their 40s.
Everyone was welcome and safe. Any potential predators were quickly ejected from the circle, usually with a bleeding mouth and a couple cracked ribs. The core members were from some pretty tough backgrounds and had absolutely no time for that shit. The cops didn’t usually have time for us, outside of noise complaints, so we took the DIY ethos to a new level.
“Good morning, friend,” said the newest customer to appear at Shadow Realm.
It was Boo Slim himself, otherwise known as Professor Hernandez, or just his real first name.
“Hey, Eduardo,” I welcomed him.
He was one of the most talented men I knew, with several records to his name and some books published. On top of all that, he was a professor of art at the local college.
“I’m here to ask if you have a mint condition first pressing of my album Giving Up Hope For Lent?” he asked me.
“Not for a while now. Ana gave it to Sven and Claudia as a wedding present.”
“Oh, good, I wondered what happened to it. It’s one of only a few left, you know.”
“I do. Three of the others are in my den as part of my retirement fund.”
“Let’s hope it pans out.”
“Can I help you with something else?”
“Most likely; let’s see.”
There was nothing in nature like seeing Eduardo Candide Hernandez in the throes of a full-blown browse. He was focused to the point of majesty from which no force on earth could distract him. Stacking a pile of records nearly up to his neck, he approached at a wobble, trying to keep everything upright.
Eduardo was followed by a who’s who of the Metal scene, and the record store was starting to look a lot like one of Seth's famous launch parties. Even Lords of Sacred Shadow made it down, an event on par with a blood moon for its rarity.
“Hello,” the lead singer, Mordant, said to me.
His accent was strange, not only foreign but really unlike any language I’d ever heard. I thought maybe he was Estonian or from the Faroe Islands, but the research I had done didn’t end up indicating that.
Another hypothesis was that he and Ana were somehow related, because they had the same last name. If so, though, it was a secret she would take to her grave, because she had denied it several times when I’d asked her.
“Good afternoon,” I said with a slight bow.
“Is Ana back?”
“Sorry, no, it’s still just me. She should be back soon though.”
“Very good.”
The band members moped over to the bins, their favorite mode of travel, and began flipping the records inside them. The stacks that they might want to buy were getting bigger and bigger, which was something that could really only be done at Shadow Realm.
Most stores charged upwards of $30 for new vinyl. Ana was more honest than that. Her supply came straight from the labels, most of them priced between $10 and $15. It cost more for first pressings and other collectables, but no one was breaking the bank on new releases. Particularly with her policy of discount prices for friends.
It was difficult to fathom anyone not liking her. Even if I had it on good authority that there were some who didn’t.
