AZOTUSLAND chapter fourteen
That evening there was music in the Big Room scheduled for 8 p.m. and the band was a good one. Long-time veteran rocker-poets, the 77's arrived around 5:30 from Sacramento and began to set up.
Maugham and front man Mike Roe hung out on the deck and had beers while all was being arranged.
"Where's James?" Roe asked.
"About...elusive as ever Rodan."
In fact Jim had slid down to the gallery about the same time and had gone to the back and slided his key into the middle door and quickly closed it behind him.
He never noticed the sliver of clear tape at the bottom as it snapped.
He hit the lighted panel and it illuminated a large room. He walked across the thick Oriental rug and took out a butane lighter and lighted the gas lights along the wall. In the flickering light was an immense library of old books, probably at least 4,000, that ran all the way down the Southern wall. They ran from floor to ceiling. Down on the Western wall there was a large wooden drafting table with slits underneath for charts and artwork. On the Northern wall was a simple plasma screen and a small box mounted into eh wall with a big red eye. It was obviously modeled after HAL from 2001 A Space Odyssey.
Jim went over to the Desk in the middle of the room and sat in the big chair. He cried for a bit for reasons unknown to him. He loved his loneliness,. but it also tore at him a bit.
After a few minutes he got up and opened the small refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of dry French wine and pulled out the cork and took a swig then went hunting for a glass in the sink.
********
Upstairs the concert was getting under way and everyone in the he building new it, even Jim down in solo Silo 2. The room, while heavily soundproofed could still register vibrations.
Jim hit a switch, turned on the remote and flashed it at HAL. Frontman Roe was doing his usual bits, bantering witht he audience like a clown, then starting into some heart-wrenching existential ballad. Jim adjust the volume down low so he could read.
The desk was lighted up well with captains lamps but the rest of the room was near Medieval.
As he looked for his copy of Aelred of Rivaulx's Spiritual Friendship (a rare Cistertian text) Mike was playing in the background an acoustic number:
He found the book and looked up at the screen waiting for the next lines he knew so well:
With that he turned it down a bit more so he could read.
Yet he was distracted by the second email. He had not told Maugham about the second one on purpose because it struck a little too close to home and he wanted to think about who it could possible be who would have such information.
He walked to the end of the bookcases and into a small area of stacks. He grabbed a red journal from 1999 and cracked it open to check something. Then he brought it back, grabbed his glass of wine and sat on the floor against the bookcases. Behind him were rows of Russian literature. Doveschiavsky, Tolstoy, Pasternak, and others. In front of him, his desk to the right and the band moving into a surreal version of God Sends Quail:
"Art Garfunkel wanna-be" he muttered. Then he felt stupid. Roe was ten times more versatile than Garfunkel and his lyrics deeper. With that he turned it down further and began to read in his journal from in 1999.
*******
Upstairs all attention was now on the band. The Cafe above was utterly deserted. In fact, after 20 minutes or so, they just closed up and everyone came into the Big room which was packed far beyond legal capacity.
The only one missing was Andy, who was down in the IC trying to figure out a way to patch the music into the main computers so he could rip some copies for bootlegging.
The band had finished It's For You and moved straight into The Stellazine Prophecy, a funky courageous piece of philosophy rapped in a fairly good James Brown imitation.
As Roe did the Brown scream Maugham walked by Martine and whispered "Too hot in the hot tub! owwww!"
She laughed and he moved on and out the door to check the parking lot.
Even Hans had showed up, or stayed that night and the band played until near 11 and then finished with For Crying Out Loud.
Jim had come up a few songs earlier and Roe had given him a devilish grin when spied.
He gently made the rounds in the back to thank people for coming. He reminded a few to do their duty and make sure the band was well taken care of. Then he finally sat down as Roe almost yelped:
Maugham and front man Mike Roe hung out on the deck and had beers while all was being arranged.
"Where's James?" Roe asked.
"About...elusive as ever Rodan."
In fact Jim had slid down to the gallery about the same time and had gone to the back and slided his key into the middle door and quickly closed it behind him.
He never noticed the sliver of clear tape at the bottom as it snapped.
He hit the lighted panel and it illuminated a large room. He walked across the thick Oriental rug and took out a butane lighter and lighted the gas lights along the wall. In the flickering light was an immense library of old books, probably at least 4,000, that ran all the way down the Southern wall. They ran from floor to ceiling. Down on the Western wall there was a large wooden drafting table with slits underneath for charts and artwork. On the Northern wall was a simple plasma screen and a small box mounted into eh wall with a big red eye. It was obviously modeled after HAL from 2001 A Space Odyssey.
Jim went over to the Desk in the middle of the room and sat in the big chair. He cried for a bit for reasons unknown to him. He loved his loneliness,. but it also tore at him a bit.
After a few minutes he got up and opened the small refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of dry French wine and pulled out the cork and took a swig then went hunting for a glass in the sink.
********
Upstairs the concert was getting under way and everyone in the he building new it, even Jim down in solo Silo 2. The room, while heavily soundproofed could still register vibrations.
Jim hit a switch, turned on the remote and flashed it at HAL. Frontman Roe was doing his usual bits, bantering witht he audience like a clown, then starting into some heart-wrenching existential ballad. Jim adjust the volume down low so he could read.
The desk was lighted up well with captains lamps but the rest of the room was near Medieval.
As he looked for his copy of Aelred of Rivaulx's Spiritual Friendship (a rare Cistertian text) Mike was playing in the background an acoustic number:
I am a troubled man
Trouble is what I am
I am a troubled man
And I'll take all you can give me
I walk alone
Hand in hand with my trouble
But still nobody's home
I'm in the poorhouse forever
I'm in the doghouse forever
And ever with you
He found the book and looked up at the screen waiting for the next lines he knew so well:
I am a simple man
Simple is what I am
I am quite simply mad
And not particularly glad to be
You were a simple friend
I complicated you, then
I lost a simple friend
All complications unending
I think alone
I could use some good help
With my thinking
It's so far from home
I could think of you forever
I could think of us together
But never mind
With that he turned it down a bit more so he could read.
Yet he was distracted by the second email. He had not told Maugham about the second one on purpose because it struck a little too close to home and he wanted to think about who it could possible be who would have such information.
He walked to the end of the bookcases and into a small area of stacks. He grabbed a red journal from 1999 and cracked it open to check something. Then he brought it back, grabbed his glass of wine and sat on the floor against the bookcases. Behind him were rows of Russian literature. Doveschiavsky, Tolstoy, Pasternak, and others. In front of him, his desk to the right and the band moving into a surreal version of God Sends Quail:
You failed
You sunk like Jonah to the whale
Big mouths follow behind you
Still small voice swallowed up by you
You failed
You picked the right time to fail
Got your past behind you
Got your future in front of you
You can't go back
You can go on
"Art Garfunkel wanna-be" he muttered. Then he felt stupid. Roe was ten times more versatile than Garfunkel and his lyrics deeper. With that he turned it down further and began to read in his journal from in 1999.
*******
Upstairs all attention was now on the band. The Cafe above was utterly deserted. In fact, after 20 minutes or so, they just closed up and everyone came into the Big room which was packed far beyond legal capacity.
The only one missing was Andy, who was down in the IC trying to figure out a way to patch the music into the main computers so he could rip some copies for bootlegging.
The band had finished It's For You and moved straight into The Stellazine Prophecy, a funky courageous piece of philosophy rapped in a fairly good James Brown imitation.
As Roe did the Brown scream Maugham walked by Martine and whispered "Too hot in the hot tub! owwww!"
She laughed and he moved on and out the door to check the parking lot.
Even Hans had showed up, or stayed that night and the band played until near 11 and then finished with For Crying Out Loud.
Jim had come up a few songs earlier and Roe had given him a devilish grin when spied.
He gently made the rounds in the back to thank people for coming. He reminded a few to do their duty and make sure the band was well taken care of. Then he finally sat down as Roe almost yelped:
And the days drag out
And the nights never end
And you're tired of talking it out
On the phone with all your friends
Look up, and cry out
Don't be afraid to scream
Don't be afraid to shout
Look up
For crying out loud
You've both been waiting for this day
For a long time now
Long time now
Long time now
posted by Obi-Mac BakDon | 5:14 PM
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