Focussing on the guitar in his hands and the lyrics in his mind, Jake mentally shut out the rest of the world and played the Silver Lake classic track straight from the heart. He played it through three times without missing a note and was just about to start a fourth run through when Jim called through, “And we’re done. Thank you, Mr Power.”
Grinning, Jake could hear the student applauding his efforts.
“Thanks, Jim.”
“We were done after the first take,” called back the producer. “But the kids were loving it so I let you keep going.”
With a laugh, Jake got to his feet, declaring, “Was that payback, guys?”
While Dr Marrs coached the students in their pairings through the production he was completing on their songs, Jake took the others out into the rehearsal studio for an impromptu jam session. Shortly before lunch, Paul arrived armed with cheeseburgers, fries and donuts for them all. Delighted to be included with the older students, Josh and Sam did their best to take part. Instead of Jake tutoring Josh, it was Dorrian who took the youngster under his wing and sat teaching him the rudiments. Once lunch was over, Paul called Sam over to the practice kit and spent an hour or so tutoring him. Everyone was relaxed and joking with one another. No egos on display. After some coaxing, even Nicole was convinced to deliver a drum solo.
Finally, Dr Marrs called them all back through to the lounge.
“Well, kids, you’ve done it. Six songs recorded. Congratulations!” declared the producer.
The lounge erupted with wild cheering from the students.
“Kola and I will finish working our magic on these over the next few days. I’ll let Miss Tonriverdi know when we’re done,” continued Dr Marrs. “Can I just add how impressed I’ve been with you all. If you keep with the commitment and discipline that you’ve demonstrated this week, you’ll not go wrong in this business.”
“Class,” said Nicole calmly. “How about a huge cheer for Dr Marrs, Kola and Jake. Don’t forget Paul too.”
Once the cheers and whistles died down, Jake shouted, “Class dismissed” prompting a fresh round of enthusiastic celebrations.
As he gazed round the lounge, noting the happy students all smiling and laughing, Jake silently wished that Rich was there to share in the success of the workshop.
Squeals of laughter echoed out from the house as Jake sat on the deck idly playing guitar. After saying goodbye to Lucy and the boys, he’d spent most of the next two days closeted away in the basement writing. With the pressure of the workshop lifted, he could finally relax a bit and regroup his focus on his own creative efforts. By combining some of the pieces from Rich’s laptop along with his own input, he’d added two complete songs plus two partially completed ones to the stockpile for the next Silver Lake album.
Half listening to the kids enjoying a noisy bath time, Jake slowly picked out a melody line. His lyrics journal lay open on the table beside him, a half-completed lyric scrawled on the page. He was conscious that the songs he had amassed so far were all tinged with anger and that this one was proving to be no different. During his last guitar lesson with Josh before they had left for home, his nephew had opened up his heart to him about his dad. Listening to the pain behind the young boy’s words had torn at Jake’s soul. The half-written song in front of him was an open letter from the vocalist to an absent father. It had opened up a lot of his own parental scars, setting free years of pent up anger and frustration.
As the music absorbed his thoughts, the kids’ squeals melted away.
“Like that,” commented Lori as she set a cold beer down on the table beside him.
Looking up, Jake realised it had grown dark and that the only background noise was the waves breaking down on the beach.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“It’s gone nine,” replied Lori, settling herself on the sun lounger. “Kids are sound asleep. Thank God! It’s been a long day.”
“Sorry,” apologised Jake with a smile. “Guess I’ve not been much help.”
“You’ve been working. It’s fine,” said Lori softly. “They’re just missing the boys. I met Maddy at the timber playground for an hour so that helped to wear them out. She said to remind you about the band meeting tomorrow at JJL.”
“Shit, I’d forgotten about that. We’re meeting to agree the set for the memorial show,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair.
“When do rehearsals for that start?”
“August 25th,” replied Jake. “We’ve a couple of press interviews next week. Jethro mailed me dates, times and places. All local.”
“Then its straight back into JJL, isn’t it?” checked Lori, worried that this was all happening too fast for him.
Jake nodded, “Same day as Miss M starts school.”
“Doesn’t seem that long since I was lying here giving birth to her,” mused Lori, thinking back to their daughter’s dramatic entrance into the world.
“Both of them are growing up way too fast,” admitted Jake, laying his guitar down as he got to his feet. “Maybe it’s time we added another little battery to the Power pack.”
“I don’t think so,” said Lori swiftly. “Lord knows how I’d cope with three kids!”
Moving across the deck to sit beside her, Jake said, “You’d be fabulous as ever, li’l lady. You’re an awesome mom to those little guys.”
“Flatterer!”
Gently, Jake ran his hand over his wife’s flat stomach, “Wouldn’t it be awesome if there was another little person in there? Feeling them moving and seeing tiny feet jab out was incredible.”
“No,” stated Lori firmly. “You try carrying an above-average sized baby around for nine months once never mind expecting me to do
