AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dr. R: Was he around much?
ML: More after Mama died.
Dr. R: Did he have a habit of ‘talking ugly,’ as you put it?
ML: Kind of. He bragged about those he’d taken into custody and how he forced them to confess.
Dr. R: He was in law enforcement?
ML: (unintelligible)
Dr. R: I’m sorry, I missed what you said.
(Matthew doesn’t respond)
Dr. S: He said the UCB. It stood for Upright Citizens Brigade, a faction of private citizens in the Midwest section of North America. They were also known as the Morality Police. They searched for those who engaged in same-sex encounters, tortured them for confessions and names of other homosexuals, then turned them over to authorities to stand trial.
Dr. R: And your uncle…
ML: I don’t want to talk about him.
Dr. R: All right. How did your mother seem to view your father?
ML: She was proud of him. I think maybe she idolized him. He was promoted at work once, and she got out of bed, though she had a fever. She spent the whole day cooking a special dinner to celebrate. It was the only time I saw him cry, when he came home and saw what she’d done.
Dr. R: What happened when she died? He didn’t cry then?
ML: No. That’s when he really became angry. That’s when he began to turn into the monster.
* * * *
Matt stared at the professional-grade recording suite newly installed in his music room. He barely dared to breathe, as if doing so would make it disappear.
It was far advanced of what he’d learned on during his short enrollment in college, but the configuration was familiar. For what he couldn’t figure out on his own, there was a vid tutorial he could reference, including demonstrations he’d follow better than any written instruction. What he’d forgotten, he could review with a spoken command.
His songs, and the twaddles that would eventually become songs, would be recorded like a real musician’s, thanks to the setup. He might be able to render the tunes as they sounded in his head. With it, the Martin, and the other instruments, he could produce actual music instead of demos patched together through an app.
He was aware the clan watched him, waiting for his reaction. He beamed at them, ignoring the flutter in his stomach insisting they’d done too much for him. It reminded him he was undeserving of such a gift.
“Even if I suck as a musician myself, I can offer studio services to others who don’t. Thank you for this. I’m really excited.”
“You’re welcome, and you won’t suck,” Avir said. He held open his arms, and Matt moved quickly into his embrace. “I hope you get a lot of enjoyment from it.”
“I will. I know I will.” Matt hugged him fiercely, then Kom and Masok. The full impact of elation hit him, and he squealed, “I hardly know where to start!”
They laughed at his enthusiasm, then Masok pouted. “Do we have to go to this meeting, Avir? I’m dying to watch him have fun.”
“Me too, but the Skadra contract has turned into a noose, and we’ll be hung out to dry if we don’t force them to negotiate immediately.” Avir was in danger of pouting himself as he gazed at the recording suite. “I’ll keep reminding myself I wouldn’t know what you’re doing anyway. I appreciate music, but its production is nowhere in my skill set.”
“I won’t be recording anything interesting except experiments as I learn the system.” Actually, Matt was hoping he’d remember and pick up enough basic recording techniques to lay down a couple of tracks of the song he’d lately concentrated on.
Kom scowled. He was due to leave soon as well. “You’ll be okay on your own? I can ask to reschedule this interview.”
“You said it would only take an hour. I spend longer goofing off in here without you guys…or at least, I used to.” Since they’d started having sex in its many enthralling variations, Matt had spent little time alone.
Grins erupted around him. “We’d better let him take advantage of this brief chance while he can.” Avir smirked and rubbed Matt’s ass. “The recording board might end up gathering dust as little as he’ll use it until we go back to our regular work schedule.”
Kom sobered. “Are you sure, Matt? I don’t have to—”
