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Authors: Stephen J. Martin

Tags: #Fiction, #Humorous, #Rock Musicians, #General

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BOOK: Ride On
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Jimmy didn't remember.

‘Yeah, yeah,' he said. ‘That's tough.'

‘But anyway, how are things with you? It's been a while.'

Her voice was bringing it all back now. Thailand, Dublin, her laugh, the feel of her skin.

‘Three weeks and three days,' said Jimmy.

‘Wow. You're counting. I didn't think …'

‘Susan, why didn't you call?'

Fuck it, this was hard enough without dancing around.

‘Jimmy, it's … I'm … God, I wasn't expecting you to call tonight. Jimmy, I'm … I …' Big sigh. ‘I'm not enjoying this. Us. It's too hard. We're not even really a couple, are we? It's not one thing, it's not the other thing. I don't want to get … to be the one who … it's just hard Jimmy. And you never call. I know, I know, you're busy. You've got so much you need to do. I know that. I mean, it's great. It really is.'

Jimmy was sitting right on the edge of one of the hard kitchen chairs; elbows on knees, hand on forehead and the phone jammed up against his face. He was rocking back and forth a little.

‘Susan, I'm … sorry.'

‘The last time I called you, you were in such a hurry to get off the phone. I felt like I was just in the way.'

‘It wasn't like that Susan. I had a film crew costing a thousand quid an hour waiting to roll. There was a cranky make-up lady tapping her watch at me, and Aesop running around the TV studio in a towel and a Cradle of Filth t-shirt trying to find his lucky underpants. It was just bad timing.'

‘I know, Jimmy. You told me. But you never called me back.'

‘Well, you sounded pissed off. I thought I'd give you a bit of time to, y'know …'

‘How much time did you think I needed?'

‘I …'

‘Jimmy, I'm not sixteen any more, y'know? Going out with the lead singer in the band was all well and good when he was just on the posters on your bedroom wall and it wasn't real. But this is different. Even when I was in Dublin, the way people kept coming up to you in the street, I felt like I was getting in the way. Like I was taking up time you should have been spending with them. I'd just kind of stand to one side and try not to look too much like some groupie you'd just picked up.'

‘Ah Jesus, Susan, it's not like that. And it's all new to me too, believe me. I still get surprised when it happens and then I don't know what to say to them. I mean, this is Dublin, right? Half the time they just come up and go, “hey you, singer bloke, you think you're fuckin' great, don't ye?” and then walk off.'

She laughed. It was the sweetest sound he'd heard in weeks.

‘Susan …'

‘Jimmy listen to me. I told you before that not a lot of people can do what you can do. You have so much talent, God. I don't want to be the one who stops you showing it off. You deserve everything you have now. You should enjoy it.'

‘But I'm not. It's not like it was meant to be. There's something … fucked up about it all. Something's missing or something.'

‘What could be missing?'

‘I … I'm not sure.'

Don't fucking say it, Jimmy. It's not fair. Don't mess with her head like that. You're either in or you're fucking out. Where's your balls? There was another pause. Then …

‘I saw the “Strut” video yesterday.'

‘Oh, did you? So, what did you think?'

‘It's so weird to see you on the TV like that! You wouldn't believe it. But, no, it's really great! It's a good change after “Caillte”. Shows that you're versatile. Aesop smiles a lot when he's playing the drums, doesn't he?'

‘Depends on the song. You should have seen the head on him this morning when we played my latest masterpiece in the studio.'

‘You both looked great. Very sexy. I didn't see the Japanese guy you were talking about though. Is he not coming back to play with you?'

‘Probably not. Maybe. He doesn't know yet. It'd be great though, he's a great bloke.'

‘Who were the girls?'

‘Who?'

‘The girls in the video.'

‘Oh, just some dancers. We hired them for the shoot. Probably another reason Aesop was smiling like that.'

‘And you?'

‘Nah. Not my scene.'

‘Jimmy?'

‘Yeah?'

‘It's … I guess it's kind of hard to sit all the way over here and wonder. I mean, I know what Aesop's like. Amanda sent him a few emails, but I don't think he replied. I can only imagine what you guys are getting up to, the things that are happening around you now.'

‘Susan, it's not like that. I swear to God.'

‘Isn't it?'

‘No! Well, maybe a little bit. I mean it's there all right. Aesop is certainly enjoying himself. But I've known him since school and, believe me, he's been living this life since he was about thirteen. The only difference is that he doesn't have to borrow money off me all the time now. He's the rockstar. I'm just a musician, same as I always was. And I don't get caught up in all that shite. It's a bit distracting to be honest. I'm too busy. And anyway it's embarrassing.'

‘Jimmy, be a rockstar.'

‘What?'

‘Go and be a rockstar. Please. It'd make me happy to know that everything you've worked for all these years is paying off. Live the life and see what you think. You'll only get one chance to do it, right?'

‘Susan, I don't want that.'

‘Well … what do you want?'

Fuck it, he was walking straight into these.

‘I … just want it to really get going so I can … y'know …'

He heard her sigh.

‘Jimmy, Amanda's heading off tomorrow. I don't know when she'll be back and I need to spend a bit of time with her before she goes. She really hasn't been herself. I should go.'

‘Susan … can I call you?'

‘Of course. Hey, you owe me a song, remember?'

‘I do remember.'

‘Any progress?'

‘Well …'

‘Too busy I guess, right?'

‘Ah Susan, it's not like that … I just have all this …'

‘I'm only joking Jimmy. Look, I need to go.'

‘I'll call you. Soon.'

‘Do if you like.'

‘I will.'

‘I mean it Jimmy. Call me because you want to. Not because you think you should. Okay?'

‘Yeah. Sure. But of course I want to. I want to talk to you properly. Not like this. I need … I mean I want to …'

Susan laughed again.

‘Jimmy, I don't think you know what you want right now.'

‘Susan …'

‘Seeya Jimmy. Take care of yourself. And, hey, give me a wave from your next video. That'd be cool.'

She hung up.

He sat up straight and felt the sweat trickle down his back. His hands and the phone were slimey and hot. Susan was nobody's fucking idiot. She was afraid of the very same thing that Jimmy was. That he'd drift away from her, that he'd let the circus he was part of now pack up and leave her behind. He wanted so much to promise her that it wouldn't happen. But how the fuck could he do that? It was getting so big now that he felt like he was just one of the clowns.

*

Norman met Trish out in The Yacht in Clontarf. A few pints, a bit of dinner and a couple of pints, and then a few quick pints before they walked back along the coast as far as Fairview, where he stopped a taxi for her and held her hand as she sat into it. His heart was going nineteen to the dozen as she sat there looking up at him. He had no clue what she wanted to happen next, but he wasn't about to risk making a balls of the whole thing by opening his gob and so he just smiled at her and then cleared his throat.

‘So … would it be okay if I called you again, Trish? I had a great night tonight.'

‘Will you not be out in Baldoyle?'

‘Ah, I'm pretty much done out there. I will be anyway by the time you get back next week.'

‘Ah, that's a shame. What about our poor roses?'

‘Sure, it was only a small job. They'll be grand for another while. So …'

‘Give me a call next week. I'll be working but I should be able to get off again on Friday night. They're usually cool with the country girls getting home for the weekend if they can.'

‘So you'll be going back to Kerry?'

She grinned up at him from the back of the taxi.

‘Well … that might be up to you.'

His belly did a flip and then they heard another voice muttering.

‘Fuck sake …'

It was the taxi man.

‘Maybe you want to turn on your radio there?' said Norman, leaning down.

‘It's broke. Go on. Pretend I'm not here. I've heard worse in annyway. I'll start whistling if it gets too painful.'

Norman turned back to Trish.

‘So, maybe we can go for a meal next Friday? A proper one.'

‘I'd love to.'

Norman suddenly put his hands on his face.

‘Oh no! Fuck!'

‘Jesus. What? What is it?'

‘Oh God, sorry Trish. I just remembered I'm going to a gig next Friday. Feck it anyway. Unless … do you like music? Would that be okay instead?'

‘Is that all? Christ, I didn't know what was wrong with you.'

‘I just remembered. But what do you think? Would you be on for a bit of live music?'

‘Of course I would. Who is it?'

‘The Grove. You know them?'

‘Of course, yeah. But are they not over in England or something? Didn't I read that?'

‘Not for a while yet. They're playing in Vicar Street next week. Will you go with me?'

‘Do you have a spare ticket?'

‘I … eh … I know a fella can get me one.'

The taxi man stopped whistling.

‘Can he get me one?'

‘What?'

‘Can he get me one? My mot is mad into that shower. That Irish song they do, y'know? She's always singing along to it on the radio. She was trying to get tickets to that gig but they were all gone. You should've seen the pus on her. It used to be Robbie this and Robbie that, but now she never shuts up about yer man Aesop. Some shaper, that bloke.'

‘Eh …'

‘I'll bring you and your bird home for no fare. Where are yiz going?'

‘I … what? She's not my …'

‘Can you get two tickets?'

‘I don't know if I …'

‘Look, sit in there in annyway. I'll give you me phone number and if you can do anything you give me a call. If you can't, then no sweat. Right? Now where am I going?'

Norman didn't know what to say, but Trish moved along the seat, laughing. He sighed and got in.

‘That's it, you do what your bird says,' said the taxi man.

‘She's not my … bird,' said Norman.

The taxi man looked in his rearview mirror at Trish and then turned around to Norman again.

‘Well you better get your fuckin' skates on pal, before she's someone else's bird.'

Trish looked up at Norman with a big grin and put one hand on his leg. Norman caught a wink in the mirror from his new ally and just closed his eyes, his face burning in the dark.

Chapter Three

Aesop and Jimmy met up for breakfast two days later. They didn't usually bother hooking up outside the studio so early in the day, but today was going to be, hopefully, a landmark day for The Grove. There was still some mixing and tidying up to do, but they were going in to cut the last song. The album was pretty much done.

Jimmy sat opposite Aesop, half a fried tomato en route to his mouth.

‘Who?' said Aesop, frowning into the distance.

‘Jesus Christ,' said Jimmy, putting down his fork and shaking his head. He looked up. ‘Do I have to go through this every fucking time? Amanda! The girl you rode in Thailand, Aesop. English. Green eyes. Freckles. Friend of Susan, the girl I've been going mad over for the last six months, who came to visit me from London and got Peggy all excited because she brought a scarf from Harrods …'

‘Amanda … Amanda …' said Aesop, tapping the table in front of him. ‘Was she the one whose husband pissed off and took the car? A nice one too, wasn't it? A GT-R or something. Jimmy, that's got a steel turbine, ball bearing core, eighteen-inch …'

‘She wasn't married. They were engaged. But yeah, he took some dosh and did a runner. I don't know anything about a GT-R.'

‘I think she said it was blue. Did she not say it was blue?'

‘Fuck the car Aesop. Do you remember her? It's not even a year ago.'

‘I do yeah. I think so. So what about her?'

‘She's gone … she … ah, it doesn't matter.'

‘No, tell me.'

‘What's the point if you don't remember her?'

‘You were going to tell me, so just tell me.'

‘She's gone off travelling. I was talking to Susan the other day and Amanda is gone off travelling because she was let go out of work and I think she's still upset about yer man legging it. So Susan said she's gone off on a trip to get her head together or something. That's it.'

‘She's gone travelling.'

‘Yeah.'

‘Ah that's nice. Great. So … eh … so, where's she off to then?'

‘You have no fucking idea who I'm talking about, do you?'

‘I'm trying me best Jimmy for fuck sake. I remember the car.'

‘You never even saw the car! If there was one. Christ. Forget about it. It doesn't matter.'

Aesop relaxed and took up his coffee. Thank fuck that was over. Jimmy got all excited sometimes and Aesop would have to weather the storm till he got it out of his system and calmed down. Anyway, how are you meant to remember every single girl in the world you ever met or talked to or rode?

‘So what were Dónal's new band like,' he said. ‘What are they called? Feet?'

‘Leet. Yeah, they're pretty good actually. Y'know who they reminded me of? The Stranglers. Take something like The Killers, right? Add a big keyboard sound like The Doors and a bit of ska. They sound like that. Y'know what I mean?'

Aesop had his face scrunched up.

‘The Killers, Stranglers and the Doors. And ska.'

‘Yeah.'

‘I'll have to take your word for it Jimmy, at this hour of the morning. The Stranglers were fucking deadly, but.'

‘Add more Killers.'

‘Not Coldplay though?'

‘No. I don't know where Dónal got that from. They're not whingy like that.'

‘Thank fuck.'

‘Anyway, they're good. Catchy. Man, they've got some tunes.'

‘Do they know a bass player?'

‘Ah shite. Forgot to ask them. I'll ask them the next time. So c'mere, did you find anything when you were out shopping for your new den of iniquity yesterday?'

‘Nah. Actually, I went to the zoo instead.'

‘Dublin Zoo?'

‘No, Jimmy. One of our many other zoos.'

‘But what was in the zoo?'

‘Monkeys. Well, buff-cheeked gibbons.'

Jimmy just looked at him and said nothing.

‘Y'see, I read in the paper last week that one of them had a baby about two months ago and that this week would be the first week it'd be on display.'

‘So … what, you brought Phil's kids?'

‘No. They have football on Saturdays, sure. I just went on me own.'

‘What? Why for fuck sake?'

‘Man, monkeys are brilliant. Them fuckers make me laugh. The buff-cheeked gibbons don't use their legs. They just swing out of trees, the cages, ropes. Like Tarzan, y'know? It's amazing. They lash around the place, just swinging from arm to arm, and they never fall. The speed of them. And the baby, his name's Jai, was hanging onto his mammy for dear life and her pissing around the cage being chased by the daddy. I think he was after some sweet monkey love, but she was probably still sore from Jai and she wasn't having any of it. He ended up giving Jai a smack on the head and then went off into a corner to sulk. It was brilliant. You should see them.'

Jimmy shook his head.

‘I don't believe you.'

‘Which part?'

‘All of it. You reading the newspaper for starters.'

‘Sure, I go to the zoo every few weeks to look at the monkeys and chill.'

‘On your own?'

‘Yeah!'

‘Since when?'

‘I've been doing it for months now!'

Jimmy just sighed. He probably shouldn't have been surprised. Aesop had a thing for funny animals. He went to see ‘March of the Penguins' about five times when it came out and was probably the first person in Dublin to buy it on DVD. He'd come home from the pub, roll a big spliff and then stick on the movie and break his bollocks laughing at the telly for two hours before he went to bed. He did it at least three times a week. He had one about dolphins too.

‘You're a bleedin' looper Aesop.'

Aesop shrugged and picked up his coffee.

‘Isn't it better to go to the zoo for the afternoon than go out robbing shops?'

‘I s'pose it is. Who robs shops?'

‘Some people rob shops. Those fuckers were funny today, but. You should've seen them.'

Jimmy nodded.

‘You know you can't have pets in that place?'

‘Yeah, I know.'

‘So you're not allowed buy a monkey.'

‘Actually they're apes, Jimmy. If you want to be technical about it. Yeah, I know. I wasn't planning on getting one.'

‘Yeah, well I was just making sure. Look, we better go and get our arses to the studio. We told Sparky we'd be in at eight and you know the way he gets when people are late.'

‘I know. Hey, let's give him another fifteen minutes, will we? He'll be pacing around the place and kicking things and talking to himself. It's so bleedin' funny. He's like a caged animal when he's angry, isn't he?'

‘Well you'd fuckin' know, by the sounds of things.'

*

Jimmy and Aesop finished playing and looked up through the window at Sparky. He gave them the thumbs-up to say it was a wrap, and then they took off their headphones and started to yawn and stretch. Jesus, that had been a long session, but at least they were done. The rest of the work would be done by Sparky at the console, Jimmy lending a hand. Their debut album, which Senturian Records were going to release in the UK, would be winging its way to London and all the lads would have to do then would be wave and smile for the cameras. Everything was cool. Well, they had to find a fucking bass player of course. Jimmy had done all of the bass on the album except for the two versions of ‘Caillte', which Shiggy had already recorded in Dublin and in Japan when the lads were out there with Johnnie Fingers the previous year.

‘Aesop, there's a call on hold for you here,' said Sparky into his mike.

‘Is it the president of me fan club again? Will you tell her I have her pencilled in for Tuesday and Thurday evenings and not to be such an itchy trollop. And would she ever try and have a bit of respect for herself.'

‘I told you not to be giving this number out like that, didn't I? Anyway, it doesn't sound like one of your little floozies. It might be one of their Daddys, though, looking to kick the hole off you, please God.'

‘A bloke? Jaysis. Tell him to hang on, will you? I'm going for a piss.'

‘Hang on? I'll hang your bollocks off the monitors you cheeky prick. You can take it now or I'm cutting the fucker off. He's tying up the line for ten minutes, the cunt.'

Aesop nodded.

‘Where was that finishing school you went to again, Sparky? Switzerland, was it?'

‘You've five seconds.'

Aesop went in to take the call as Jimmy and Sparky started to tidy up. Leet were coming in a bit later to start putting down a demo that Dónal hoped would get Senturian interested in them. Jimmy was finding it hard to multitask like this – his debut album one minute, getting a deal for a bunch of kids the next. Dónal was out now at a meeting with some music lawyers.

‘Wotcha reckon Sparky?' said Jimmy.

‘Hopefully it is some girl's Da looking to kick the hole off him.'

‘I meant about the album.'

‘Tops, Jimmy. Here you go …'

Sparky took a CD out of his breast pocket and handed it across to Jimmy.

‘Unit number one.'

Jimmy took it in his hands. It was just a blank-looking CD, no artwork or anything. No indication that it contained a large part of his spirit, his soul, the musical ideas that had been with him since he was a teenager, most of his aspirations for the future. It was going to be called “Brazen Songs and Stories”.

‘So how long will you need to spend on it, Sparky?' said Jimmy.

‘By the end of next week it'll be in London. No problem.'

‘I'd say you'll be glad to see the back of it then, yeah?'

‘I'll tell you Jimmy, you've some good stuff on there. I'd say you'll do well out of it. But it's all down to the money and Senturian look like they're behind it. That's what's important in the end. If it's not being pushed along like a bastard, nothing will happen. That's the business these days. Good songs mean nothing.'

‘That's a jolly bleedin' thought.'

‘Sorry man. It's business. You see that fucking eejit that won Big Brother? Number one for the last six weeks and all he does is talk over a song that was shite when it came out the first time in 1966. More talent in my snot so there is. He'll have an album out now too, watch. Make a million quid. In six months time, no one will remember the cunt and we'll never hear from him again and that's the only good thing about it. Hand us those cans will you?'

Jimmy picked up his headphones and gave them to him.

‘You don't think much of the music industry, do you Sparky?'

‘Full of pricks, Jimmy. Always was, actually. These days more than ever. And I don't mean the likes of that gurrier in there on the phone. I'm talking about fuckers would sell their own mammies. Greedy bastards. It's got nothing to do with music.'

‘So why do you do it?'

‘Why?'

Sparky looked at Jimmy like it was the strangest thing he'd ever been asked.

‘Yeah,' said Jimmy. ‘I mean, if you think they're all bastards, why not do something else?'

Sparky laughed.

‘Like what?' he said. ‘Kindergarten teacher? Nah Jimmy, this is my job. The only one I can do. But I don't do it for the money.'

‘Why then?'

‘See that gobshite in there?'

‘Aesop?'

‘Yeah. Aesop. You know what I caught him doing last week?'

‘Oh Christ, don't tell me …'

‘Nah, it's not bad. He was loosening up before you got here. Playing that old Van Halen song he likes. You know it?'

‘“Hot for Teacher”? He plays that to warm up when he can get his hands on two bass drums.'

‘Yeah, well he was playing it the other day. I happened to be recording at the same time, just to get some levels for later.'

‘What happened?'

‘He played it perfectly.'

‘Yeah, he's good at it all right.'

‘No, Jimmy. Perfectly. I have that album on the computer. I brought it up and put the Van Halen intro next to his to check the waves. Identical. He didn't miss one single beat.'

‘Right. Eh … is that good?'

‘If you'd told me I'd have called you a lying cunt.'

‘Really?'

Jimmy looked back in at Aesop who was still on the phone.

‘It's that hard to do?'

‘It's not fuckin' easy. So anyway, that's why I do it Jimmy. Cos every now and then, when you work with artists, you come across something that you can't explain. That's God shining through, Jimmy. It's a little glimpse of God. I need that in my life. We all do. God is brilliant, so he is.'

Oh fuck, thought Jimmy. Sparky was going mad again. Steady … steady …

‘Of course,' continued Sparky, ‘then you look at the people that God chooses to use as his instrument. And, taking that fucker in there as an example, the holiness of it all kind of falls on its tits, doesn't it?'

Jimmy laughed.

‘I s'pose, yeah.'

‘But it doesn't matter, Jimmy. I heard it. He hadn't even taken off his jacket. He just pulls out the sticks and goes straight into it. He didn't even know I was in here. Thirty seconds of the intro. Then he stands up, sees me and goes, “Hey Sparky, is the kettle boiled? I'd a skinful of pints and two French slappers last night. Hairy yokes they were too, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy meself. Is there bikkies?”.'

Jimmy laughed.

‘Sounds like the Holy Spirit working through him all right.'

‘I know. But you can't question God, Jimmy.'

‘I don't, Sparky. I don't. But … I wouldn't have figured you for …'

‘Ah, I'm not going to stick a bible in your face Jimmy, but when I hit the bottom of the shitter twenty years ago and I couldn't climb out, it was God who reached down for me.'

‘Fuck. I never knew that.'

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