Night Shifts Black (32 page)

“Hey, so what’s a
click?”

“The click track? It’s
that steady ticking you heard while we were playing.”

“Oh ok, that
metronome-sounding thing?”

“Yep. Keeps us all
together.” He gives me another smile. “You ready to see your boyfriend do his
thing?” he asks, and I suck in my breath. Now, I’m the one who’s nervous.

“Definitely. I’m
excited.”

“Alright, Casey, give
me quarter notes on the kick,” Jon says to the mic, and Casey starts pounding a
slow steady rhythm on the big bass drum. “Carl, back off the outside mic a bit?
Tiny bit more…ok…good. Casey, give me the snare next.”

Casey moves to the
smaller, horizontal drum and starts the same simple rhythm. They repeat the
drill for the “toms” and “hi-hats,” and then Jon has him play the entire kit to
do a check on the “overheads” and get the full mix. He finally seems happy with
what he’s hearing and makes sure Casey is ready.

Casey signals him, and
Jon triggers the scratch track.

I’m not sure I
actually blink during the five minutes that follow. My eyes are glued to Casey,
my ears ringing with an incredible barrage of percussion. I never in a million
years would have guessed the cute little song Casey played for me that first
day on that beat-up guitar would have this as its base. I can’t believe Casey
heard this in his head when he read my poem.

Casey wipes his face
with his t-shirt when he finishes, but doesn’t seem happy.

“Can we run that
again?” he asks.

“Yeah, no problem. Sounded
like a decent first take out here, but we can run it again.”

“Thanks.”

They do, and it sounds
no different to me, but I know it is because everyone else seems much happier.
Casey joins us in the control room.

“That was good, man. Great
take. What’d you think?” Jon asks.

Casey shrugs. “I don’t
know. I’m still not sure about the bridge. Can we hear it?”

Jon nods and starts
the playback. I watch Casey’s face closely as he listens and notice him cringe
a couple times. When it finishes, he moves back toward the tracking room.

“Yeah, we need to run
the bridge again. I don’t like the build.”

“You need a bigger
fill, Case,” Luke says, and Casey nods.

“Yeah. I also came in
too early on the chorus.”

“Ok. Let’s take it
from the turn after chorus two,” Jon says, and Casey returns to his kit.

He seems much happier
the third time through.

“Killer!” Jon calls
into the mic, and Casey salutes him.

“Yeah, I think we got
it that time,” Casey replies.

By the time Casey
makes his way back to the control room, Sweeny and Eli have joined us as well.

“Still tracking
drums?” Sweeny smirks. “Why? They’re just gonna replace it with samples
anyway.”

Eli laughs, and Casey
gives him an annoyed look. “Hilarious. Hey, how about you do something besides
stuff your face with donuts?”

Sweeny seems
surprised. “We ready for guitars already?”

“No. Bass,” Jon says,
pointing to Eli.

“You want my cab in an
iso booth?” Eli asks, and Jon shakes his head.

“No, you can set up in
the main room. We’re crunched for time, so we’ll just go direct.”

Eli’s face falls. “You
want to go direct?”

It’s Casey’s turn to
snicker. “Dude, we have an entire song to track in a day. No one cares about
making angels cry with your bass tone. Direct is fine.”

“Look, man, I promise.
It’s going to be killer. If it’s not, we’ll setup your cab, ok?” Jon soothes.

Eli grunts, but moves
into the main room and removes his bass from the stand. Carl hands him a cable,
and he plugs it into his guitar. He then adjusts the headphones on his ears.

“Alright, go ahead,”
Jon says, and Eli starts to play. Jon moves some buttons around on the console.

“He’s checking the
gain and compression,” Casey whispers to me.

I nod as though that
explains everything. I can tell by his smile he knows I have no idea what that
means.

“What was he talking
about ‘going direct?’ Why was Eli so upset about it?” I ask.

Casey grins. “Eli
wants to control his tone with his own amp. To really do that, they’d have to
set it up in one of those smaller rooms there called iso booths like we’re
going to do for the guitar cabs and vocals. Problem is, Eli is never happy, so
we could spend the rest of the day trying to get his tone right. Jon is saving
us a ton of time by having him go direct and controlling it himself.”

I nod. “Are they
really going to replace your drums with samples?”

I can see Luke and
Sweeny snickering, and Casey rolls his eyes at them.

“No. Not on this one,”
he says.

“What does that mean?”
I ask.

“Remember that
software I showed you on my computer in the office?”

“With the keyboard?”

He nods. “Exactly. We
could basically use that instead of what we just recorded. Makes everything
perfect.”

“They would do that?”

Casey shrugs.
“Honestly, if TJ hadn’t sent my own kit, I probably wouldn’t have minded. But since
we got a really good take, we’ll use my track. Right, guys?” Casey challenges
with a dark look.

They shrug, still
grinning, and hold up their hands.

“You ready?” Jon asks
Eli, and the rest of us quiet.

Eli says he is, and this
time the song coming through the monitors has Casey’s drums added to the
original keys and vocals. Eli plays along, but I don’t find this part as
exciting. The bass makes a big difference to the sound, but it’s not as flashy
as the drums, and Eli needs four takes until Jon is happy. I suppose that makes
sense since he’d only started working on the song Wednesday.

“What do you think?”
Jon asks Casey who joins him by the console.

Casey sighs. “Honestly,
he’s gonna hate me but I think we need to run the last chorus again. I just
remembered this sweet run he played last night when we were rehearsing. I’d
love to get that in there.”

Jon nods. “You want to
talk to him or should I?”

“I’ll talk to him.”

Casey leans over the
mic. “Hey, killer. Nice work on that last one. We’re close. You sound great.
One thing, though. Remember, that run you played last night on the final
chorus?”

Eli looks confused for
a minute and then raises his hand. “Right on! Forgot about that!” he says into
his own talkback mic.

“Sweet. Let’s just get
that in there and then we’re good.”

“You couldn’t remember
that two takes ago?” he fires back.

Casey grins and
shrugs. “Better now than on the way home!”

∞∞∞

Jon tells us to take five and grab a bite once
we finish with the bass track. We still have to do guitars, synths, and vocals,
but the guys seem happy with the progress, so I assume we’re making good time.
Personally, I’m exhausted, and I’m just watching. Every step seems so
meticulous, and I struggle to tell the difference between the “killer” takes
and the complete failures.

Casey and I opt for a
sandwich on a bench, while the other three go for something more formal at a
restaurant the next block over.

“What do you think so
far?” he asks, after we settle on our bench.

“Pretty amazing. I’m
tired, though!”

He laughs. “It’s a
long day for sure. We still have at least another six or seven hours.”

“Really? You’re
finished with your part, though, right?”

He shakes his head.
“No, I’ll help with the synth work after we get the guitars down.”

I let out my breath.

“I don’t understand,
though. If you’re playing drums, who plays the synths and keys at the shows?”

Casey shrugs. “We’ll
usually get someone to play a lot of it live, but we run some in tracks, too.
You just can’t get everything you want live.”

“And I thought music
was just a few guys strumming guitars.”

He smirks. “Yeah,
maybe fifty years ago.”

“I can’t wait to see
you play live,” I say, glancing over at him.

He smiles back. “It
might be sooner than you think.”

My face falls. “I
thought you didn’t have to tour for a few more months.”

He shakes his head.
“We don’t. But we’re still going to play some shows before then. With Luke’s
return, the Label is going to want to explode us back into the spotlight. I’m
sure we’ll do some high profile stuff to build up for the tour.”

“And you think I’ll be
able to go?”

He gives me a silly
look. “You better go.”

“Well, I want to be
there, of course, but I don’t know. I don’t want to get in your way. I mean,
with Luke just getting back into it, I don’t want to mess with the band
chemistry or anything.”

He studies me for a
moment and sighs. “Seriously? Is that really what you think? Look, maybe now
isn’t the best time to talk about this, but Luke and I had a long conversation
last night after you went to bed. He’s serious about coming back, but he wants
you to come with us. He needs you, Callie. You’re his rock, his support, at
least for now. He doesn’t believe he would have gotten here without you, so
he’s not ready to let go.”

I stare at him in
shock. “Wait, what? Are you serious? He said that?”

Casey shrugs. “It’s
true. Anyone who’s seen the two of you together can see how important you are
to him.”

I shake my head in
disbelief. “Wow…and you think the guys will be ok with that? The Label?”

Casey laughs. “Are you
kidding? To have Luke Craven back on the bus? They’d let him bring an entire
psychiatric team if he said that’s what it’d take. One girl from Shelteron, PA
is nothing.”

I swallow. “What about
you? What do you think?” I ask, searching his eyes. “I mean, I know this whole
thing is strange. Luke and I have a very complicated relationship, but you know
I’m crazy about you.”

Relief floods through
me when he smiles. “Hey, look, this whole thing is totally screwed up, I know
that, but I also think I understand it. I really do. What you and Luke have is
very different than what you and I have, and I think the two can co-exist.”

I take his arm, and
lean against him. “It’s true. But even for the whole touring thing? Are you
sure you’re ok with me being there?”

He kisses my hair. “To
be perfectly honest, I’m thrilled that Luke is taking the hit in demanding your
presence, because then I don’t have to look like the wussy boyfriend who wants
his girlfriend along.”

I grin and kiss him.
“So that means you do want me along?”

“Well, I mean, we need
our best writer, right?”

I laugh. “I suppose. I’ll
need something to do while you guys are busy signing bras and whatnot.”

∞∞∞

After lunch, Luke tracks the rhythm guitar
next, then Sweeny on lead. Casey does the synths and his computer stuff last,
and they’re finally ready for Luke’s vocal.

They set him up in an
iso booth, and Jon tells Carl to make sure he gets a Neumann vocal mic or
something like that.

“He’s clipping,” Jon
mutters to himself during the sound check, and makes some adjustments on the
console. “Hey, Luke, I think we got it now. You ready?”

“Ready.”

For the first time
that day, the entire band is gathered in the control room to watch. I’m not
surprised, and can feel the anticipation in the air. Most of us thought this
day would never come, and if they knew half of what Casey and I do, they’d
understand the full extent of this miracle. There’s a ghost in that iso booth,
stealing magic from a second chance he never dreamed he’d have. A month ago,
sure he wouldn’t. I promise myself I won’t cry, but when Casey grabs my hand
and squeezes, I know it’s going to be a difficult battle. He’s thinking the
same thing I am, and I can’t look at him out of fear I’ll lose it.

Jon starts the track,
and Luke takes over. From the second he starts singing, the song becomes his.
It doesn’t matter that Casey and I wrote it, Luke now owns it, and I finally
have to steal a glance at Casey’s face. He looks mesmerized, completely
transported to a different time and place, and it melts my heart.

“That’s it, isn’t it?”
I whisper when the song finishes. “That’s what was in your head.”

He almost seems dazed
and meets my eyes.

“That was it.”

Luke and Jon are
exchanging words, but I can’t even hear them. I’m too caught up in the moment,
thrilled for Casey, for Luke, for the world that’s going to be blessed with
this additional contribution to its rich tapestry of art. This piece of history
that had no business being created, but has now somehow transformed several
lives.