Page 62 of The Music Demon

“’Tis very modern of you. Considerin’ your advanced age, you’ve done a fair job of keepin’ up with the times. I’ll add it to the list of things I like about you.”

Lyric looked interested in that. He was about to ask to hear the list when Doo slid into the third chair waiting for him. And the moment was gone.

“How’d you sleep?” Shivaun asked.

It was the sort of question Lyric would never think to ask. Shy’s human background had its advantages.

“I’ve had better nights.” Doo scrubbed a hand down his face. “There’s lots to remember.”

“How many songs do you know?” Shivaun asked.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I mean songs that you know the notes and the words.”

“Lyrics.” Lyric corrected.

“Lyrics,” she repeated. “A hundred?”

Doo smirked. “More.”

“Well that means you’re smart enough to remember lots,” she said. “What will ye be havin’ for you’re last meal?” The smile on her face told him it was a joke intended to lighten his mood.

“Funny. Ha ha.” He looked at Lyric. “What don’t they have where I’m goin’?”

“Well, let’s see. Avocado toast. Chicken and waffles. Although they could make it. Yogurt and granola would be iffy. They’ll have plenty of meat, eggs, pancakes. All the things that would make your colon wince. So I’m told.”

Doo brightened a little. “Since I don’t want yogurt, granola, or avocado anything, I think the past and I will get along fine. At least where breakfast is concerned. So. What’s next?”

“I guess that means your final answer is that you’re in,” Lyric said.

“Guess so,” Doo repeated.

“Am I sensin’ some hesitation?” Shivaun asked.

“I just…” He glanced at Lyric before again lowering his head to study the menu. “It’s just my grandmother used to say that if somethin’ seems too good to be true, that means it is. Seems right to me. So I just keep waitin’ for the, uh, catch. You know?”

The server arrived, poured coffee, and took orders. After watching her slide her tabpad into the large front pocket of her apron and hurry away, Lyric said, “It’s not that there’s not a price to pay. There always is. It’s just that you don’t consider it enough of a price to be a deterrent.”

Doo looked like he was trying to decipher code. “You mean that I can’t get back? To now?”

Lyric nodded. “That and that you will have no more than thirty years. I’ve observed humans for a long, long time. I know that, at your age, you can’t imagine caring about life after fifty-three. But you will feel differently when you reach that age.”

“But I don’t have a lease on life even if I stay in this time.” He looked around at the café, at the street outside the window then at Shivaun. “I could die this afternoon.” She nodded her agreement.

“You could. But let’s not kid ourselves. You don’t believe you will,” Lyric replied.

“No.” Doo met Lyric’s gaze. “I don’t believe I will. I’ve given this an awful lot of thought. Yeah. It’s not perfect. I’ll miss my sister. I’d love to see my niece grow up. I’ll worry that Cass doesn’t have enough company. But the thing I keep comin’ back to is that I’ll always wonder what would have happened. And I’ll never be happy if I don’t go find out if there was music to be made.”

With a smile worthy of a proud parent, Lyric tapped the table. “Well said. Let’s talk about more important things.”

“More important things?” Shivaun couldn’t guess what might be more important than Doo’s life or death, his family, and his future.

“Yeah,” Lyric said. “Like guitars.” Doo grinned. “Have you done a little research on what was available in 1967? Know what you want?”

“You mean if money was no object?”

“When it comes to guitars, money is no object, but if you show up in this neighborhood in 1967 with a guitar only a Rockefeller could afford, people are not going to take you seriously at best and steal it from you at worst.”

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