Chapter
6
The
Clash
The
next morning Adrian woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and bacon that had
slowly working his way first into the cramped storage tent were he had been
sleeping. The smell had then invaded his dream where he was back in his home.
Actually he was just sitting in front of an old but charming kitchen table
surrounded by a dense fog created by his lost memories but he knew that he was
home. In front of him a delicious breakfast that now matter how much he ate
never manged to fill him. He was starting to get frustrated when he realised
that he was dreaming. While he had slight reservations of getting up the
thought of actually eating was stronger then his urge to turn around for a bit
more shut-eye.
When
he came out of the tent he was blinded by the bright light of the late morning
sun that was pushing into the the forest with all its fusion powered
dedication. Kim was sitting in front of the fire that was now down to a rather
civilised burn. She was in the middle of preparing a scrambled egg, with a
relaxed and peaceful expression that Turner had not seen in her face before. At
that moment poking around in the pan in front of her, while keeping an eye of
the other pots and pans and kettles hanging over the fire forming a cast iron
wind-chime, she was in her happy place. The intensity that had been such an
integral part of her personality was nowhere to be seen.
Adrian
decided to stay in front of the tent for a moment and watch her, he did not
want to disrupt her mood. It did not take long until Kim noticed him. To his
surprise she did not change her behaviour at all, instead she smiled and waved
him towards the fireplace.
“Goodmorning!”
she said. “Come and grab some breakfast.”
Adrian
walked over to were Kim now was distributing the scrambled egg onto two plates.
“Perfect
timing too, food’s almost ready. Slept well?” she asked as she was counting out
the strips of crisp beacon onto the plates.
“Surprisingly
so yes.”
“It’s
this place. Despite the occasional bear attack it is incredibly peaceful here,
since we arrived here there has not been one night were I did not sleep like a
baby. Do you like baked beans?”
“Sure.
But not for breakfast, thanks.”
“Your
loss.” she shrugged as she ladled some on her plate. She took slices of freshly
toasted bread from a grill, throwing them quickly on the plates. “Coffee?”
“Yes
please.”
“On
its way. Sugar and cream are over there if you want.”
“Thanks.”
For
a while the ate in silence. Adrian was perfectly happy listening to the quiet
sounds of the forest, while eating his breakfast. While his memories did not
show him what he had been eating on his way here his body was incredibly happy
to have a real, decent breakfast again.
“D.C.
still asleep?” Adrian asked after he was done eating.
Kim
snorted with amusement. “I wish. No he got up around dawn shaming musicians
throughout time and space. He is probably in his personal corner of the
forest,” Kim nodded towards the east. “preparing for you.”
“So
about this duel…”
Kim
just looked at him.
“How
exactly is this going to work. We’ll hardly are going to fight each other with
swords.” Kim remained silent. “Right?”
“No
no swords. I can’t help you with D.C. you have to go to him to find out what
you need to do to best him. He’s a bit of an intellectual crank. That might
help.”
“What
about you?”
“My
secret weakness are cinnamon rolls. Do you really expect me to tell you what
you need to do to win against me?” slowly the sarcasm was returning to Kim. No
that Adrian had seen her relaxed he noticed that her powerful personality was
not really aggressive, just strong.
“I
did tell you yesterday remember?” Kim asked. “You need to move me. You will not
be able to sway me with words or nice arguments, because without backing them
up they are just insignificant noise.” her deadpan face gave infused her words
with menace. Again Turner noticed that what was pushing against him was not
aggression but sheer force of personality. “If you should beat D.C. he will
tell you were you can find me. You will need to impress me. Good luck with
that.”
Turner
kept calm, even if he had gritted his teeth a bit without noticing. “Fair
enough. I will see you later then.”
Kim
smiled the forceful part of her personality falling away from her. “That’s the
spirit. Now shoo, shoo. Go and defeat D.C.”
“I’m
on my way. And thanks for the breakfast.”
“You’re
welcome.”
Turner
walked into the forest. He was wondering how hard it would be to find D.C.
without getting lost. He had left his giant monolithic backpack in the camp so
if he should get lost he would be in deep trouble. Kim had tried to calm him
down, telling him that he would not get lost. He just had to walk into the
direction she had shown him. For much of the way he would be able to see where
he was coming from. The ‘forest hall’, Kim liking that name had started to use
it herself, had ample space between its tress making it possible to keep things
in view for a long time. She pointed out to him some rather characteristic
trees on his way that he would be able to use as markers. Once he left the hall
it was not far to where D.C. was. She had also given him a small flare gun.
Mostly to make him feel better but also as a protection against bears, which
would be a greater problem for Turner than getting lost.
He
looked back every once in a while to make sure that he had not strayed from his
path. Every once in a while felling a flash of panic when all he saw behind him
was pure forest. It only took a few moments of hurriedly moving somewhat to his
left or right to clear the view back to the camp again. After a while he
started finally to relax again opening himself up to the atmosphere of the
forest again. It was nearly noon, dreams of a hot summer day were slowly
drifting from the canopy high above to the cool slightly humid forest floor.
Every once in a while he could hear some kind of bird calling. Maybe to claim
its territory, or complaining about Turner walking through her home or maybe
the bird were just bored.
Adrian
was surprised how easy it was to recognised the marker trees. He had been a
city boy all his life with his botanical expertise culminating in insights as
profound like: ‘trees are the brown narrow brown things that have that big
leafy afro on top’. You did not have to be an expert to recognise ‘the pillar
of heaven’. A tree almost perfectly straight with a perfectly smooth shinning
bark which alone stood out against the rough weathered barks of all the other
trees surrounding it. It was also impossibly tall its crown far above all other
trees hidden from view to all of those who were bound to walk the earth.
The
‘emerald tree’ was completely covered in moss turning into a column of perfect
green. And there was of course the ‘Fuck You’ tree. Kim had just told him that
he’d know when he saw it. He did. Were all other trees were tall with their
treetops far above, this one was much smaller, not reaching half as high as all
the others. Its trunk was massive implying that it was probably the oldest tree
around a survier of some ancient long past age. It had not many leaves to work
with left as the surrounding trees had slowly covered the sky above, leaving
only an open patch directly above the fuck you tree. It was there where the
tree was stretching the most towards what little sun it had left for itself.
From where the direction Turner was coming from the almost bare branches of its
crown and the peculiar way it had grown made the tree look like it was giving
the world the finger.
Not long
after Turner had reached the edge of the forest hall. The trees started to
become more diverse. There perfect ceiling like canopy started breaking up
giving rise to some spectacular patches of undergrowth and to his left a see of
ferns was growing in the dim forest light. Also the ground here was not
perfectly flat anymore but was now rising and falling with increasing
enthusiasm.
* * *
Turner
had just climbed a rather steep slope which he had chosen because he hoped that
it would give him at least some kind of overview. His fear of getting lost was
starting to return again. At least from up there he would be able to have an
eye on the sea of fern, giving him at least one point for him to orient himself
and if he was lucky he might even be able to see something that would tell him
where he would be finding D.C.
When
he arrived at the top he was surprised to find that beyond it was a rather
large plateau. It lay a few feet blow the point where Turner was now standing
making it impossible to see from any point below. The growth here was much ore
sparse again, with many squat wide crowned trees dominating the ground. Because
every tree took so much space for itself there were shafts of golden sunlight
everywhere. For a moment it looked to Turner as if the light was coming from
the ground drifting slowly towards the sky.
He
was still marvelling at the sights when he saw D.C. He was standing with the
back to him in one of the shafts of light. D.C. was leaning slightly back ward,
his arms held out to his sides, palms facing forward. It looked like he was
daring the world to have a go at him. The world did not move though. Neither
did D.C.
Turner
made his way towards him making sure that he was making sufficient noise with
every foot step, rustling through the leaves more than he needed to, stepping
on large dry looking twigs. The way D.C. looked Turner suspected that he might
not hear him approach otherwise. He was sure that frightening the life out of
D.C. was not a valid way to win his duel.
“I’ve
been waiting for you.” D.C. said almost frightening the life out of Turner.
“So
how are we going to do this?”
D.C.
relaxed his stance turning towards Adrian. “That depends on you really. In the
end you want me to join you, go out there and move the world with the power of
music alone. I like the idea. But everyone has great ideas. Sadly most are not
able to realise them. If you want me to join yours cause” as he said this D.C.
stepped forward out of the sunlight into the gloom of the forest, “you will
have to make me.”
Out
of nowhere D.C. had pulled out two guitars, handing one to Turner. The
instruments were attached to small portable amps which probably would have
trouble pacifying a crowd of six. But here in the quiet of the wilderness, with
just two people they were more than enough. Tuner gave he guitar a few twangs, tuning
it by ear and overtones, tweaking its settings and that of the mini-amp until
he could produce a bonsai version of what he liked to hear when playing on
stage. D.C. went through a systematic sound-check his fingers moving fast but
with frightening accuracy that would have impressed industry robots and
Germans.
“Make
your move.” Turner said when he was satisfied with his settings and D.C. had
stopped working on his.
D.C.
Plucked the deep string of his guitar. “I like silence and being alone.” he said
adding a few tones to melody to the bass note he had produced. “When I am out
here, all people far, far away, just me and” he repeated the base sound adding
more notes to his simple melody making a gesture with the neck of his guitar
encompassing the forest “this kind of nature around me. I’m happy.” D.C. closed
his eyes his music slowly growing more complex. His technique was flawless, his
delivery to the point. All of that was unimportant though, because the music he
played touched Adrian. The music carried the soul of D.C.s words. It carried
the peace he felt when he was alone, the solace it gave him to be far away from
everyone else. Just the words were flat and cheesy. Guy wants to be alone and
commune with nature. But the music carried the subtext. D.C. was not a hippie
that had been born decades late, there was no drive to go and hug trees. Nature
for him was wild and dangerous as well as beautiful. It simply felt right an
natural to him. Nor was he shying away from social encounters, he just felt
more like himself when he was alone.
Turner
listened to all of it. He was moved by it. The question that emerged from the
music he was hearing was ‘Who are you to take me out of here? What is so
important that you enter my sanctuary trying to coax me out of it?’. Words
failed him.
He
counted in his head until he found the right point and entered D.C.s melody. At
first it was hard, he had not jammed in ages. Playing sets on little cramped
stages now mercifully shrouded by his failing memory. In his core though he was
a musician, he felt his way into the song. Careful, slow, taking care not to
ruin the harmony by adding a disruptive note. Soon Turner was back in the flow.
First the melody was the same but it did not take long to play with the melody.
Turner
was growing, telling of his love of music. His playful approach to composing,
The simple joy of just making music happen. Like magic. Here he and D.C. were
in synchrony. Here he started to deviate. Being alone, is nice but what then.
His melody attacked D.C.s. ‘There you are playing for yourself’ it said ‘But
where does all that music go? What does it move? No one but yourself. Remember!
Your music did not come from nowhere. You listened to other peoples music and
became enchanted by it. Yet here you are all alone.’
D.C.s
answer were a few sharp notes contrasting to Turners new tune. ‘So what.’ they
interrupted ‘There is time. I have still a along way to go. Here I can grow.’
‘You
can’t live forever.’ Turner brought the melody down into the minor scale.
‘You
are the old one here. I have time.’ D.C. mocked him staying in the minor scale.
‘You.
Little. Bastard.’ Turner interrupted the simple melody with angry chords.
‘Hee.
Hee. Hee.’ giggled on the high E string.
Turner
played a little harmony thinking about how to convince D.C. As he did so D.C.
slowly faded out of it leaving him space to make his point.
Where
to begin? Well at the start. So Turner played. He played his youth. His sense
of wonder. His attemtps to emulate the greats, stumbling over greatness of his
own. First only by mistake or luck. Then more regularly. A slow build towards a
point where he got music. Not as a listener. As a creator. The greed that
followed. Never getting enough, always chasing the next high that came when
everything he played, all the lose ends came together, transcending the sum of
their parts.
The
deal with the devil.
Burning
with new found power. Blazing through the sky. Unstoppable. Out of control.
His
music was now raw, load, fast, full of power but slowly breaking apart at the
seams. D.C. by instinct started to play some little notes at the edges were the
melody frayed. Warning Turner that he was in danger.
Adrian
smiled. It was far to late for a warning but he appreciated the sentiment.
Fraying
but still out of control he attempted to keep on track. He found the note that
was to save him. That one last hope. He went back to the Devil and they played.
They played for hours, for days. Duelling. The Devil daring Adrian to be better
then him. Not unlike the situation he was in yet. The music suddenly stopped.
There
was a moment of silence. D.C. looked uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, but
decided to not to speak. Instead he played little notes, tiny sonic question
marks wanting to know how it ended.
From
silence sound. A jaunty little tune. A bit silly, a bit aggressive, a bit
funny, but also serious, different to all what came before. There was no
resistance anymore. The Devil had lost. And the little melody surged. It began
to rise outshining everything that had come before. A fire under control.
This
was the point where Adrian got stuck. That had been his finest hour. So now
years and years later there was not much he could add. He could only keep on
playing the initial brilliance slowly fading. Leaving behind just a diminishing
tune, spluttering in the growing dark… until it was gone.
Silence.
D.C.
waited.
He
hesitated. Between playing another note, or saying something.
Finally he
spoke. “And?”
“Nothing
‘and’. That’s it. This is why I need you because if I can’t convince you and
Kim to come with me, this is exactly what will happen to all of us. Not now and
not tomorrow. If that were the case we’d already be fucked. Something needs to
be done and I sure as shit not going to wait for someone else to take the
responsibility.” Turner looked D.C. straight in the eyes as he said this.
It
took some self control at first for D.C. not to look away. In the end he held
Turners gaze.
“I’m
in.”
*
* *
Adrian
returned to the base camp with the guitar D.C. had lent him.
“When
she sees you with this she will know that you won.” D.C. had told him.
Now
he was wondering how he was going to find Kim. He had not got any directions
this time. D.C. had said that he’d the path once he’d found it.
The
first sign he discovered using his superior observational skills was the noise.
At first he could not place it because it was so alien to this place. An angry
rumble of sorts. Was that a tremor or something?
It
turned out to be a little diesel generator hidden out of sight behind a tree
not far from the camp. From it led a thick black cable into the forest depths.
The path had become clear.
Kim
was waiting for him. She was leaning with a shoulder against the trunk of large
majestic tree. The trunk had a large oval hole cut into its side. The edges
carefully sealed with some kind of resin. There was a lamp deep inside the
hollow turning the hole into a strange shining eye.
“I
was hoping you’d make it this far.” Kim said instead of a greeting.
“You
hoped?”
“Yeah.
I was not convinced, but you beat D.C., so you have to have some kind of
skill.”
“I’m
not sure if I feel more offended for myself or for D.C.”
“How
about not being offended at all. At least we challenged you. I was also
convinced enough to have hope for you. And there you are with one of D.C.s
favourites and here I am pleasantly surprised.”
“What
exactly is this place anyway?” Turner asked nodding towards the hollowed out
tree.
“I
did tell you. Remember? I am here to find a tree, old and strong. Like this
one.” she said patting the tree she was leaning against. “I will cut into its
heartwood at its very centre and cut out the material I need to make myself a
bass. The bass will have the power of the tree and it will be linked to me
through my work.”
“Some
kind of sympathetic link?”
“In
a way yes. This is a strong symbol and through the work, the hard fucking work
me and the instrument become attached. Through the ritual I imbue it with
meaning. You can see it as a spiritual thing or a psychological trick. But it
works. For me. Also its awesome.” she said with a wide grin.
“How
do you want to do this? You’re a bassist. I’m on the guitar. Are we going to
match rhythms or something?”
“Adrian
Turner do not take me for some conjurer of cheap licks!” as she said that she
reached into the tree pulling out an unvarnished six string bass. It looked
very much like an electric guitar, only that its body was more massive, the
neck longer and as wide as a chopping board. Compared to it the guitar Turner
had brought looked like a child’s toy.
“This,”
Kim said “is Themis. She is not finished yet of course, but for now she will
do. She has got the normal bass strings and two higher tuned ones. So basically
she is tuned like your guitar. If you can play it so can I. You need to be able
to groove and have a melody going. It will be hard to impress me Turner. I
maybe not as old as you are but I have listened to a lot of music. I have even
made my homework and know the theory behind it. For several different cultures.
In a way that’s a bit shit. Most of the time I listen to something new I hear
something cobbled together by some ignorant amateurs who don’t even realise how
far of the mark they are. My heart is a rock Adrian. Try to move it.”
Turner
switched on his little Amp working hard not to let Kim’s words get to him. D.C.
had started with a bit of music, invited him into his world. In a way he had
opened up to Turner. Kim had pretty much greeted him with a punch to his face
and they had not played a single note yet.
He
started with a good rhythm. He may be a guitarist but he did could groove with
the best of them. Then he layered an infectious melody on top of it. It worked
well together. Turner was pleasantly surprised, he had not expected to be able
to pull something so slick out of his ass.
Kim
destroyed him. She took up his beat, her bass thundering, shaking Turner down
to the marrow, the like him she layered the melody on top. Where Turners guitar
was a high pitched song, what Kim played was a thick mellow rumbling. From here
Kim worked on the beat and injected some embellishment into the melody.
The
guitar now sounded like a talented child trying to out-sing a trained baritone.
Turner
stopped playing. Kim followed suit showing him her deadpan expression that held
an infuriating hint of a smile.
“What
the fuck?” Adrian asked.
Kim
just puled up her eye brows.
“That
sound? Where does it even come from?” Adrian looked around noticing that there
wasn’t and amp to be seen anywhere. He had not noticed it at first. When he
arrived Kim had not yet had her bass in hand. She certainly had not a small amp
clipped to her belt as Adrian had. The little things would work for guitars but
would fail miserably on a bass.
“My
amp.” Kim’s answer did not help at all.
“Where?”
“Right
here.” she said leaning with one hand against the tree that she had cut her
bass out of.
“The
tree?”
“Yep.
I did not want to fuck up so I did some test carvings. While I was doing that,
I thought that it would be quite a waste, a lack of respect not to do something
constructive with them. So I worked some speakers into them. It is only
fitting. It worked better then expected so I added a few into the trees around
the mother tree here.” Kim smiled her toothy smile “You are surrounded.”
Adrian
wanted to complain. Tell her that she was cheating. He resisted though.
Starting to whine would only result in him getting beaten. Kim had not sent him
away. True she was having fun at his expense but that was part of the
challenge.
Turner
played rhythms.
And
he was destroyed.
He
played chords.
And
he was destroyed.
He
tried melodies.
And,
now it wasn’t even depressing anymore, he was destroyed.
Whatever
he threw at Kim she took, turned into a Pretzel and threw it back at him.
Without breaking a sweat. Before she answered she listened to him play for a
while, head tilted to one side, then she’d start to play following Adrian’s
lead, taking it and strangle him with it. If he was especially good she’d even
nod before starting to play.
Hours
passed. It was getting dark as the night slowly rose into the forest turning
Kim into a dark figure wreathed in the shining light coming from the tree.
Turner was slowly reaching the point where he didn’t bother anymore, he was
starting to play what ever, just to see what Kim would turn that into. What
kept him going at that point was that Kim never declared herself the winner.
She was fighting a war of attrition simply waiting for Turner to give up
himself.
‘For
fucks sake’ Turner thought, ‘that girl could go to the crossroads and come back
with the Devil’s soul…’
The
devil… Adrian laughed.
“Are
you starting to enjoy being beaten or have you gone crazy?” Kim asked, slightly
puzzled.
“I’m
laughing because you have already lost. You have just not noticed yet. To be
fair neither did I.”
“Definitely
crazy.” Kim said mostly to herself.
Turner
started playing. A groovy rhythm, with a layer of a tight melody. Nothing to
complicated but catchy. While he played he watched Kim. Her dark silhouette
shook her head before plodding right in with her monster base, drowning out
Turners guitar, laying down a wall of sound.
In
that instant Turner attacked.
While
Kim was still playing he changed the way he was playing, moving high. Far
higher than the monster bass could ever hope to reach. But instead to try to
run away or change the melody, he now played something complementing what Kim
was playing. Now there was a new higher harmony where before there were two
voices fighting to their way to the top. Kim tried to follow Turner. It did not
take her two notes to notice that if she did that she’d ruin the new polyphonic
melody. Now Kim had to find her own way out of that problem, while Turner was
putting his own embellishments on top.
Kim
slowly worked her way around Turner’s melody. However when ever she did that
Turner changed tack weaving Kim’s lead into another complex piece. They
struggled with each other for a while. It was incredibly hard to do. Turner had
to stay hyper focused every second. It did not help Kim was slowly getting a
feel for how Turner waved his counter harmonies so that now she started to
feint or worse change into esoteric scales. Turner was sweating profusely now
but smiling. Kim laughed out loud when Turner pulled of an especially sneaky
stunt adding for a moment the theme of a children's show into their piece.
The
neck of Turners guitar was turning slippery and sticky. His fingers had started
to bleed. It took him a while to realise that because his hand long since
turned into a throbbing lump of unlocalised pain.
“How
about calling it a draw?” Adrian asked.
“Or”
Kim had to concentrate so much on playing that her words came out in bursts “if
we just… play for ten more… minutes. Until you give up?”
“Give
up? I am actually handing your the olive branch here young lady. I am playing
with bleeding fingers here and I don’t want you to be beaten by a cripple. You
know I want to be able to keep your dignity.”
Kim
laughed. “You motherfucker. But OK. Deal. It’s a deadlock.”
The
silence that followed was soothing.
“Grrrgmnnghhhnn.”
said Adrian. “My hand.”
“Ow.
Ow. Ow Ow Ow. Mine too.” Kim agreed.
“Can
you move yours?”
“No.
You?”
“Not
at all. I’m not even sure if I still have one. My arm suddenly ends in a ball
of pain.” Turner pressed through his clenched teeth. Relaxing somehow made the
pain worse.
“Maybe
we should go back to the camp and you know. Call it a night” Kim suggested.
“I
totally agree.” They walked back towards the camp.
After
they had walked in silence for a while Kim said: “You know what?”
“No”
“I
hope D.C. cooks dinner tonight.”
“Yeah
me too. And I hope its something you can eat through a straw.”
*
* *
As
they arrived at the camp D.C. was first relieved that they had finally
returned. It had taken Turner and Kim forever to settle things. Despite hearing
the growl of Kim’s bass he had started to worry that they may have taken the
whole duel thing to literally. Especially Kim.
Then
D.C. noticed their hands going ballistic. Turner was surprised at how much
outrage that quite young man could vent in any given second. D.C. went on
cussing all they way through bandaging their ruined hands and through making dinner.
He
only calmed down when dinner was served. Sitting around the fire they ate in
silence for a while.
D.C.
was the first to break the silence. Kim and Turner were still drifting back to
the music they had played today.
“You
convinced me and did what ever the fuck it was what you did with Kim. So I
guess that means that we’re a team now.”
“Yes.
We are.” Adrian felt joy rushing through him. He had been so busy the whole day
that he had somehow lost sight of what he was here for. Now that he realised
that he’d done it he felt incredibly relieved, flush with energy. It took some
self-control not to jump up to do a little victory dance. “We totally are.” he
said smiling.
“This
is all groovy and shit.” said Kim back to her usual behaviour, “But where do we
go from here?”
“Good
question. I think we should get the basics together before we go wild…”
“Net
stop Drummerburgh.” Kim declared.
“No.
Not a drummer. First we need someone else.”
“Whu…?”
asked Kim
D.C.
just let his face ask the questions.
“First we
need a keyboarder!”
No comments:
Post a Comment