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CHAPTER 32 Chatha Darling was being Lora Logic. For the past half hour, the only sound in the recording studio had been Chatha's attempt at the sax line for Oh Bondage, Up Yours. Darius had been laughing for the first fifteen minutes, but even he was sitting against the wall with his head in his hands now. What amused Kim most about this was that if Chatha noticed, she didn’t even begin to care. She just kept playing, dancing around the big white room, her face bright red from the exertion. Ebony had left the room long ago, along with her silent fiancé, and Jessie was lying on the floor, staring up at the white ceiling while Kim paced beside her. None of the other grrls were in the building. Geneveve hadn't even been found that morning. As Chatha was about to start up the sax line again, Kim held her hand up. “Wait, Darlin’.” “Yeh?” “If you’re going to do this, do it right.” “How?” Kim cleared her throat, then started speaking in a matter-of-fact, childish voice. “Some say little girls should be seen and not heard. I say--” “Oh bondage, up yours!” Chatha called out, then she went at the sax line with more energy than any of her previous tries. Kim smiled, content with the results, then she headed for the door. She nudged Jessie with her foot on the way past. “I’m escaping the sound. You want to come?” Jessie sat up slowly, stretching her arms. “I think I’ll feel deaf if I leave this room; I won’t be able to hear anything quieter.” “Please, Jess. We have to talk.” Kim offered Jessie her hand, then helped her to her feet. She led her half-American bassist out of the room, not letting go of her hand until the door was shut behind them. Even then, it took her a moment to realize she shouldn’t still have such a steady grip on the hand of anyone from her group. Jessie narrowed her eyes, not wanting to guess at what was wrong this time. “We have to reapply your streaks soon.” “Gwen made her first and last reappearance, Jess.” The silence was response enough. Kim shook her head and backed a step away from Jessie. “And you won’t even be here for me through this tragedy, will you? Not when it’s Gwen. She wouldn’t have anything to do with you when we were together, now you won’t have anything to do with her when we’re apart. If you bloody well want to hate each other so much, do it, but don’t put me in the bloody middle.” She turned around and headed toward the nearest exit. “Kim, wait.” Jessie didn’t move from her place in the hall. She let Kim stop and turn to look at her. “What, Jess?” “Ms. Kissably, things never happen the way we want them to. People are cold. They don’t care about anything past themselves, not unless they’re a very special person or it’s a very unique case.” “But you care, Jess. You care so much, I’m not sure how it hasn’t killed you by now. You bloody well stand by me through all my insanities... How do you do it?” “I don’t always do it. You were just about to stalk out on me because I’m not reacting properly to the news of Gwen’s return.” “But there is no proper way to respond, Miss America. I’m just a mess right now. I don’t know what I’m saying, don’t know who I’m attacking... Don’t know where to turn. Don’t bloody well know anything.” She shook her head, then did her best to smile. “You go find Eb and make sure she doesn’t get herself impregnated before she at least sets a date for the wedding, awright? I wanna’ observe Chatha’s flair for old school grrl punk s’more.” Jessie, deciding it was safer not to press the issue, headed down the hall to search out the whereabouts of Ebony and Raine. Kim watched her go, then stood motionless in the hall for a long time afterwards. It wasn’t until she noticed new sounds from the recording studio that she moved again, rather curious as to why it sounded like someone was torturing an animal in that room. There was Darius, blushing under the scrutiny of Chatha, trying to play her bari-sax. She was making faces and talking too quickly to understand, gesturing vaguely to try to explain what he should and shouldn’t be doing with the instrument in his hands. Kim sat down on one of the guitar amps with her legs crossed and watched with a smile on her face for a while before Chatha noticed her. “Ah know we won’ e’er have any guy or anythin’ in th’ group, bu’ I’m thinkin’ ah migh’ ‘ave him join up wi’ tha’ jazz club I was doin’ work wi’ while th’ band had that two month breather, y’know? Bu’ he’s bloo’y difficult! Doe’n’t know ‘ow t’ play worth a lick, an’ ‘e’s no’ a quick learner, neither.” Darius blew a sour note in protest. Kim leaned forward. “So aside from driving each other insane musically, how is the happy couple doing?” “We’re qui’ contently drivin’ each othe’ bloo’y well mad!” Chatha grinned, then elbowed Darius. He made an almost musical sound with the sax, then lowered it, smiling. “A man of little words, I see.” Kim drew her knees up. “You compliment our little Chatha quite well. I just want to know... How could you two have ever fallen in love?” Chatha, who had stated quite plainly to Kim just a few days ago that it was love (maybe even better), just shrugged. “I’ happens. Y’find someone ‘oo’s righ’, an’ i’ jus’ clicks int’ place. I’s no’ like w’tried t’make i’ happen.” She smiled over at him. “I’ jus’ did.” “So can you tell me what love is?” Kim wasn’t quite sure why she was out to torture herself. Chatha blinked, looked at Darius, looked back at Kim, then blinked again. “I s’ppose... I’s... Well, it’s...” Kim sighed. “Great. If an innocent doesn’t know, who can?” Chatha gave her a reproving glance and reminded her: “I ain’t innocent n’more.” With another sigh, Kim got off the amp. She was quite prepared to leave, and was halfway to the door before stopping herself. “Chatha?” “Yeh?” “We’re doing an American tour. I talked to Carroway about it already.” There was a surprising silence from the pink grrl for a while. It wore off quickly enough when Chatha launched herself at Kim, attacking her with a hug that took away her breath. “American tour! Y’sure?” Kim smiled, detaching herself from the excited sax player. “Yes.” “Oh... Ah’ve always wan’ed t’ go t’ L.A.... Y’know, fer Hollywood! An’ oh, Seattle... I’s go’ an underground ci’y! An actual real one! An’, an’, an’, there’s New York fer Broadway! Can w’ go t’ Broadway! I wanna’ sing on Broadway... You should sing on Broadway! Oh, and there’s New Orleans! W’hafta go t’ New Orleans! For... For... Well, fer New Orleans, y’know?” Kim shook her head, still smiling. “You’re a traitor to your country, Darlin’.” “’Least ah ‘ave fun doin’ it.” *** Back in her apartment, Kim was sitting on her bed, staring blankly at her tape recorder. She had listened back to her lyrics over ten times now, and even though it numbed her every time, she now knew the tune. And she knew it would be on Blackened Princess. Because Gwen would buy that album. Because she missed Kim’s voice. Kim closed her eyes. She eased herself off the bed, testing the ground to make sure she didn’t step on anything and twist her ankle. Leaving her eyes closed, she walked very slowly to the closet. Once there, she opened her eyes a slit. It was open, which gave her enough confidence to close her eyes again. She walked into the closet and held both her arms up. There was something in here that she knew she should be able to sense without her vision. After standing there for a minute, with rushing feelings in her body almost making her fall over, she grabbed the nearest thing to her and pulled it off its hanger. Staring at a short black jacket that had been designed by some big underground name, Kim bit her lip. It’s what she had been thinking of. Given to her by Gwen during the first few months of their relationship. Without making a sound, she tore at the jacket. With much effort, she was finally able to leave it in three pieces on the floor. She stalked back to the bed and grabbed the tape player, hitting record. “Here’s an addendum. Put it somewhere toward the middle.” She took a breath. “I close my eyes and the world just got brighter. With bloodshot tears, it’s easy to find you. And I killed you inside my mind, babe, but I could never make it true. “Baby, is there love beyond this? Baby, is there love beyond shame? Baby, show me love beyond pain. Oh...” She hit stop, then nudged the tape recorder over the edge of her bed. If it broke, so be it. One less way for her to torture herself.This
chapter includes lyrics from X-Ray Spex's Oh Bondage, Up Yours. I'll get back to
you on copyright details as soon as I find them. |
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Talk to LL,
the author. |