Page 69 of The Music Demon

The space was the sort of funky quaint one might expect from a rocker on the edge of musical history making.

While Lyric squared perpetual payment away with the property manager, Shivaun asked Doo if he would be happy with the meager, worn furnishings that were there.

Doo looked around. “It’s okay. If things go well, I’ll only be here to sleep. Right?”

“Right.”

The manager, who was really close to Doo’s age, smiled at him when she handed over the key. “Welcome home, Texas.”

“Thank you. It’s Doo. Doo Darby.”

“Whatever you say.”

And with that she closed the door behind her.

Doo looked at the demons. “Home sweet home. What’s next?”

“Next,” Lyric said, “is getting settled in. You’ll have money to get clothes and food and such, but you’ll have to go to the bank to get it. During banking hours.”

“Why? Can’t I just go to an ATM?”

Lyric smiled. “If you can find an ATM, you’re welcome to use it.” Doo’s brow furrowed in confusion. “We’re still a few years away from widespread ATMs. We’re still a few years away from people conducting business with plastic. Cash is king.”

“Wow,” Doo said.

Lyric glanced at Shivaun. “Come to think of it, I guess I need to show you how to use a pay phone.”

“Pay phone?”

“Come on. We’re gonna buy some gear and have a rotary dial workshop,” Lyric said, holding the door open for Doo and Shivaun to walk through. He pulled Shivaun back for a minute. “You bored?”

“No’ a bit. Are you about to bore me?”

He grinned. “A definite possibility. Non-musicians don’t usually get off on gear browsing, especially not in pawn shops.”

“I see your point. ‘Tis no’ likely to be as much fun as the fair we just saw.”

“The fair?”

“Well, what would you call it?”

“A happening.”

“Okay.” She acquiesced in a way that said debating what to call whatever was happening in Haight-Ashbury was not on her agenda. “I think I’m needed at the Abbey later for trainin’. Perhaps I’ll go that way now?”

Lyric knew that Doo had descended three flights of stairs while they were talking and was waiting at the bottom.

“Let me tell the kid that I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I think I can find my way.”

“Even if I knew for sure you could find your way, I’d want to see you home. Yes. You can protect yourself from a nineteen-year-old human weirded out on LSD, but…”

“But what?” Lyric didn’t answer. “’Tis the second time you’ve suggested danger. ‘Tis no’ a mystery, right? At least no’ to you. So spit it out. What is the danger? How do I avoid it or feel it or fight it? You can no’ follow me around everywhere I go forever.”

Lyric cocked his head. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I would,” she said defiantly.

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