Dylan Mercer's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Morning came gray and cold. Dylan walked the band across town to Bluewire Studio with eleven coins in his pocket. The studio sat on a corner, its windows patched with colored glass, a small sign above the door. Derek carried his snare. Hoot had his red guitar on his back. Luna balanced her fish-shaped bass across her shoulders. Tsuki walked behind them with her drum under one arm. Dylan had not slept. The engineer stood inside behind a padded counter. He was tall, thin, chewing a pencil. He named the rate without looking up. Twenty coins for two hours, paid before the tape rolled. Dylan set his eleven on the counter and slid them across. The engineer counted them with one finger. He pushed nine back. "Come back when you have the rest," he said. "I have a session at noon." Derek said, "We drove across town." The engineer shrugged. Hoot said nothing. Luna looked at the floor. Dylan felt the room tilt. He thought about the booker, the loft, the sound they had finally found. He thought about losing it before anyone heard it. Tsuki stepped up to the counter. She reached into a pouch at her belt and set one coin down beside Dylan's eleven. The coin was bright gold, polished, a horseshoe and a clover pressed into its face. It looked heavier than the others. The engineer picked it up and turned it in the light. His pencil stopped moving. "Where did you get this," he said. Tsuki said, "It was given. It counts." The engineer weighed it in his palm. He looked at Tsuki, at the drum under her arm, at the marks on her face. He set the coin down separately from the rest. "This covers the room," he said. "Two hours. Not a minute more." Dylan started to speak. Tsuki said, "Set up. Now." They moved fast. Derek built his kit on the riser. Hoot plugged in and tuned. Luna leaned her bass against the amp and checked her low string. Dylan stood at the mic. The room swallowed sound the way the loft had not. Every note came back clean. They ran the song once for level. The engineer nodded through the glass. They ran it again for tape. When the two hours ended the engineer handed Dylan a small reel in a paper sleeve. "That's your master," he said. "One copy. Don't lose it." Dylan held it with both hands. Outside on the sidewalk the band stood around him. Derek said, "We have a record." Hoot said, "One copy." Luna said, "So we can't lose it." Dylan turned to thank Tsuki. She was gone. He looked down at his hand. The reel felt light. He had a recording and no way to get it to the booker before she left town at dusk.