London Harmony: Feel the Beat (7 page)

I sounded like a bloody git I know, but it was hard to describe. “So sound to me is an experience, something I can't escape. It is always there, enveloping me, touching me. But it has structure, like music. If I assemble what I'm seeing and feeling with it, it makes music. That music is ever present and I love to let it take me away with its beat.”

She hadn't said a word and hadn't moved. I was botching this all up. I raised my hands to her cheeks and said softly, “Here, close your eyes.” She did.
Is she blushing?
I asked, “What do you hear?”

She tilted her head and shrugged. “I can hear some cars and some nearby people talking.”

I smiled. “Okay, those are the obvious. Now listen to them.” I grabbed her hands and flattened them on her hips. “The cars are like a swishing ripple in the water, giving a blue brushing sound that increases as they approach and recede, like waves lapping up on the sandy beach of lake shore.” I started brushing one of her hands on her hip, increasing pressure as cars passed by before decreasing again.

I continued, “The people speaking...” I started tapping her hands to the syncopated rhythm. “...The purples and blues of their voices bubble around the rocks. Punctuated by the deep blues and browns of deeper voices.” I kept one of her hands moving in time with the traffic as I helped her tap out the cadence of the voices, a pattern started to emerge.

I whispered, “Keep going,” I released her hands. She did and I grabbed her hips and started her swaying in time with the beat. “Now listen carefully, do you hear the birds calling?” Her brow furrowed then she nodded when she caught them.

I said, “Good. Hear how they cheep? Bright red and yellow spikes in the spectrum. We can pull those in with it. Every time you hear one, sing Bop bop ba daah.”

She did and a warm wave of pink and purple reverberated inside of me like that guitar string was vibrating in my soul again. I whispered, “Your voice feels like a warm towel fresh out of the laundry, it smells of honey. Now let's see what we can do with this music. We'll just ignore the hundreds of other sounds I can hear right now.”

She was swaying and tapping out the beat and adding in the bops. I hummed with it, going against what I told her about ignoring the rest, soaking in the sounds of life, and I had it. I closed my eyes and let myself be enveloped by the colors and feel of the world. I started ad-libbing a song, and would harmonize with her bops from time to time. I grinned to myself as I made it a song of long summers, of chasing that ice cream van, of youth and innocence. I opened my eyes to see her smiling too with her eyes still closed.

I brought us to a stop. She opened her eyes and excitement and amazement were written on her face. I said sheepishly, “And that is how I feel the beat of the world. The music is always with me.”

Her eyes looked watery as she looked away and asked, “That's how it is for you at all times?” I nodded. “And you can hear even more?” Her head was cocked trying to listen more intently.

I nodded. “Sometimes I follow a color leaking into my vision before I hear what was causing it. There is beauty out there in the sound.”

She quickly wiped her face with her sleeve and said, “That was amazing. I've never stopped to actually listen, the world has always been simply background noise to me.” Then she squinted. “Do you see the colors and feel the sounds even when your eyes are closed?” I nodded and she smiled and whispered, “It must be amazing.”

I started to blush and looked down. “You have a choice when you are constantly bombarded by it. Either let it drive you crazy or let it flow through you so you become a part of it, swept away by the current, becoming part of the music.” I straightened and met her eyes. “I chose the music.”

I couldn't read her smile but then she smirked and with a good approximation of the knight in one of those Indiana Jones movies, she said in a deep voice, “You have chosen wisely.”

I giggled and bumped her hip, then she stopped smiling and said, “Really though... thank you.” My smile died off too and I just nodded in earnest, lost in her eyes.

Then out of the blue, she caught me off guard by asking, “Are you gay Abigail?”

I blinked, wondering why she was asking. I had been getting conflicting vibes off of her since I met her. I couldn't read the blank expression on her face. So I played it off. “Gay? I'm as happy as a platypus on a water slide.”

She looked slightly disappointed by my evasive response but smiled anyway. “Got it, too personal. Sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own.” Then she was unlocking the cargo box and pulling out my gear, not meeting my eye. “Let's get you set up shall we?” I had cocked up hadn't I?

I exhaled. “Right.” She wouldn't let me drag my case, she just grabbed the handle then beamed a smile at me that washed away all my sudden unease and induced the collywobbles in my stomach. I vowed to do whatever I could to see that stunning smile again.

She just offered her arm and I placed my fingers lightly on it and suppressed a sigh. I didn't much like people leading me around but she could lead me into the pits of Tartarus and I'd follow. I'd even bring the marshmallows.

As I brought her deeper into the Garden, she re-initiated our prior conversation about our lives. It devolved into a fun sarcastic banter between us. I didn't know when it happened, even looking back at it now, but my hand on her arm turned into me hugging her arm as we walked. Me holding Percy's lead in one hand instead of the service handle on his harness. Belle didn't seem to mind.

I grinned as we approached a corner, I could hear familiar harmonies coming from just around the building. I moved away from Isabelle, still holding her arm at arm's length and walking backward, tugging on her, urging her to hurry. Giving her my best smile.

We stepped around the corner to see a small crowd gathered around the Robinsons. Amy was harmonizing Water Gypsy by Tabby Cat with a sped up version of the operatic Ave Maria, which her brothers were vocalizing. Just how the heck are they able to take two things that nobody in their right of mind would ever think are similar and make them mesh seamlessly like that?

I gave a tiny wave to them and Amy waved me over with a grin. I looked at Belle. “Watch Percy? I have to say hi.” She nodded, and I couldn't read her expression as she looked at me then Amy. I pulled her through the gathered people to beside my friends. I was already dancing and swaying as I tapped out a beat on Belle's arm.

I handed her Percy's lead then stepped beside James, the youngest brother and shoulder bumped him, he grinned and nodded at me as he sang. I opened my mouth and harmonized with the warm purple undulations of Amy's voice. I twirled behind the brothers, rolling my back against Amy's and dropping my head backwards over her shoulder to belt out the refrain with her.

She grinned and I rolled around to beside her then bumped her hip and she started to move like me, bumping her brothers to get them dancing as we all sang. After a moment I giggled and stepped away from them, now they had their bodies into it, much better! I winked at them then stepped back to an annoyed looking Isabelle.

I retrieved the lead and hugged her arm with a questioning look on my face. I smiled at her and the look on her face melted away into a reluctant smile. Then she brightened and the smile reached her eyes. The Robinsons finished their number and we and the crowd clapped. Amy bounced over to us, literally, she hopped like a bunny, it was cute.

She said in a chipper voice, “Hi Abi!” Then she gave Belle an appraising look turning her head to talk to me but not looking away from the blue haired vixen. “This your girl? Very nice.”

I started to say, “She's not...” but Amy, hyper as ever blurted out as her hand shot out to Tink, “Amy Robinson. Part of The Robinsons vocal group. These are my brothers. Good on you landing our Abigail here, it's about time someone did.”

Shell-shocked, Tink shook her hand and started, “I'm not...” But Amy was already talking again, “Oh! We should double date. Jake and I were thinking about karaoke later this week. You two game?”

It took both of us a couple seconds to realize that she had stopped talking.
Where to start? Well before I embarrass Belle too much, I need to set the record straight.
But she started before I could Tink replied, “Isabelle, Isabelle Riker. But just call me Belle.”

Then she shot me a wicked grin while still talking to Amy. “And we'd be delighted to join you and Jake.” There was a playful glitter in her eyes as I cocked my head at her in question.

Amy clapped her hands together then said, “Great. I'll call you later to set things up Abi.” Then she turned to Tink. “It was a pleasure meeting you Belle, but I better get back to work, we only have the corner for another five minutes.” Then she was gone and the Robinsons started another inspired number.

I blinked at Belle. “You realize she thinks we are together.”

She shrugged. “Well we best not disappoint her then.”

I stared at her for a long time, not breathing. Then I blurted out, “Isabelle, are you gay?”

In answer, she tucked my hand into the crook of her arm and grabbed my equipment case and started dragging me along with her. Then she threw my own words back at me with a self-satisfied lilt to her voice, “Gay? I'm as happy as a platypus on a water slide.”

I grinned down at her smug look. Then it hit me. That look she had on her face when I was singing with Amy. She was jealous. I tested the waters. “You realize they'll think we're dating.”

She didn't even look at me and just smiled smugly with that bloody dimple threatening to overheat me. “The 'date' in double date would imply that.” Then she pulled me to a stop and locked eyes with me, both of hers on my right eye, and spoke in a serious tone. “I've been trying to figure out if you were gay or not since I saw you because quite frankly Abigail...” She raised a hand to my cheek. “...you took my bloody breath away when you walked into the shop.” Dear Lord all I wanted to do was lean into the heat of her touch.

Then she started walking again while I tried to breathe. She grinned. “Then Amy confirmed my suspicions and asked you out on a date for me in one fell swoop.”

I stared down at her gape-mouthed. “It's a date?”

She scrunched up her face cutely. “Do try to keep up Abi, we've already established that.”

A warmth spread through me and I scrunched my head down to my shoulders and smile and found I had a little skip in my step as I nodded and said in a tiny voice, “Okay.”

Then I waggled my head and repeated. “It's a date then.” I was panicking on the inside, I had only dated once, back in secondary school. Lyra. Until her parents pulled her from school to enroll her in a private academy to keep us apart. They were some of the most hurtful and bigoted people I think I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. They spoke as if being gay were a disease. They even spoke with my mum, accusing me of tricking their daughter into thinking she was a lesbian. They wouldn't believe the fact that it was Lyra and her awesome freckles who had seduced me, even though we both told them so.

I hadn't thought about her in years. She made me feel okay with how I was, even though, my prosthetic eye grossed her out. She rarely met my eyes. The other girls I have been attracted to were always taken, or worse, were straight. Rayleigh being a prime example. I've gone out on blind dates a time or two that friends have set me up with, but they either wanted sex on the first date or never called back.

I was brought back to the present when Isabelle changed the topic. “So tell me about how busking works. Isn't it just street performing for money?”

I shook my head, was she wondering if I were a beggar? I couldn't read her expression as I guided her deeper into the Garden to find a good corner. I shook my head thoughtfully and said, “In the most simplistic of terms. However, it is more to hone our performance skills in front of an audience, than for the lolly. I mean, sure we can support ourselves on the money people donate, but we earn every quid of it. If they appreciate our performance, that is how they choose to express that appreciation.”

She nodded equally as thoughtfully, taking in what I was sharing. She grinned and cocked an eyebrow as a way to prompt me to continue. I rolled my eyes and hugged her arm tighter and said, “Okay, where to start... Busking 101.” My attention was split between talking and the little voice inside my head jumping around and whispering, “She wants to date me!”

I started at the beginning. “Most people who aspire to become performers learn quickly that hard work and practice are the only way to become more proficient. On that same token, you may sound great in a controlled environment of a classroom or studio where you can rehearse your music.”

I tilted my head thinking about how to proceed then added, “But there is a huge difference between making music in that controlled environment and performing in front of people. That is where a lot of performers fall apart.”

She nodded understanding and I continued, “So street performing is a dual purpose exercise. It lets you gauge the reactions of the audience to learn what works and what doesn't, thus allowing you to adjust and mature as a performer. Then you have the added benefit of building on your practice and experience as you hone your craft.”

Then I smiled wistfully. “Then there is the side effect that I find the most satisfying. If you can bring joy to someone listening to your music, that makes everything worth it. If I can see someone smile and forget about the tedium in their lives for just a moment, it warms me and gives me a sense of peace and oddly, vindication.”

She was just looking at me now as we walked, a soft smile on her face. Then I shrugged. “Most boroughs or neighborhoods require permits and sometimes auditions in order for you to perform on the streets. This ensures the quality of the performances and keeps their areas in a positive light. Nobody wants a performer who makes your ears bleed, driving people away. Sure there are plenty of performers who don't get the proper authorization, but they are usually chased away by the bobbies or other performers.”

She nodded and asked, “So that's the permit you have inside the lid of your case?”

I grinned at that. “Yes, it is. Covent Garden is the strictest borough in the city since it is the heart of the art district, and most performers are turned away. You can imagine how chuffed I was when I passed the audition and they issued a permit.”

She used her arm to squeeze my hand as she beamed at me. I blushed then added, “There are rules that must be observed. Not just for the businesses around the area but between the performers so that everyone gets a fair shake.”

I held up a finger. “You mustn't be too loud as to be a nuisance, people are, after all, trying to conduct business in the buildings or markets.” I held up another finger. “You can only stay at one location for forty-five minutes. This is to ensure one performer does not monopolize the 'sweet spots' and makes it fair for everyone.” I held up a third finger. “The most important is that you never, under any circumstance, ask for money.”

Her brow furrowed. “But every street performer I pass has people giving them money.”

I nodded as I dropped my three fingers. “We never ask for the money, it is always appreciated if someone wishes to express their appreciation for our music by giving us a quid or two. Think of it as a tip for services rendered. It isn't compulsory and we don't ask for it. That would constitute begging and there are many statutes against that in the city.”

She tilted her head in thought. “That seems a fine line.”

I shrugged. “It may be, but again, the lolly isn't the reason we do it.” Then I added, “True it does constitute the bulk of my income at this time. Singing backup for local bands doesn't pay well. I'm saving the money to get a flat of my own and to make a demo disc to send out to record companies. I hope to sign with one one day.”

She smiled at that then asked, “What kind of music do you perform?”

I was feeling playful and pulled her to a stop on a corner. “This is a good place to set up. I sing the music of life. Let me show you.”

I took the case handle from her and let go of Percy's lead. He leaned into my leg as I unpacked my equipment. I noted the meter on the new inverter showed a full charge on my deep cycle battery, Tink must have charged it for me.

I grinned as I placed the new pedal assembly in front of me. I took a moment to run my hand across it. I noted that the pedal switches were spaced almost the same as my prior setup even though it was in one sleek unit instead of multiple stomp boxes ganged together. That would make it easier for me to adapt to with my glasses off.

I set up the mic stand and then grinned like a bloody git when I looked at the mouse ears on my case. I pulled out the cables on their spools and plugged them in then I just stood there blinking. Belle cocked her head and furrowed her brow. “What's wrong.”

I blinked again then looked at her and I felt my smile grow on my face. “Actually, nothing. I'm done setting up. That was amazingly fast.” Then I bowed my head slightly at her in deference. “Thank you, this will allow me to make more music before I have to move on.” The satisfied grin I got in return warmed me up inside.

I looked down at the pedals and frowned then sighed. She tilted her head. “What's wrong?” I noted that she had more than just those brilliantly colorful sleeve tattoos when I saw the top of a tattoo peeking out from her shirt collar when she did it.

I was beyond curious what it depicted. Her sleeve tats were all bright flowers and leafy trees with little elf houses carved into them, with a cartoon dragon winding her way through it all. Its head was on one arm and her tail with its pink spade tip was on the other arm. It gave the illusion that the dragon was draped over her shoulders like a shawl. Somehow she made the bright and bubbly depiction look sexier than it should.

I realized I was gawking and looked away quickly and said as I blushed. “Umm... it's nothing, I generally like to sing with my glasses off so that I'm immersed in the music, so I can feel it without being distracted by the things I see. I'm not familiar with the stomp assembly yet so I'll have to keep them on for a song or two.”

She looked thoughtful then nodded in understanding. She looked around and backed up to a light post and leaned back against it, one leg propped back against it as she crossed her arms over her chest. I noticed she had colorful letters on her knuckles for the first time, but couldn't quite make them out from where I stood. Percy laid down at her feet.