THE CURSE


By KATZMAREK(C)


Chapter Ten.


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The Curse's second official CD was to be recorded at the Phoenix Studios with a producer imported from the States. It proved how far their star had risen since the days of Flyblown's basic facilities. Flyblown, itself, had been signed up by Sony Music as an 'associated label' - a means of picking up The Curse without having to buy out their contract. The next album seemed destined for an international release if Sony thought it was 'marketable.'


Mick and Freddie now had to deal with Sony's honchos at their production meetings. They wanted a fuller, more refined sound with higher production values. Sony wanted at least two hits from the CD - appropriate for mainstream rock radio formats. Like it or not, they were confronted with 'the industry' now, and its demand for profit.


It was tough finding a balance between the creative and the commercial. Although not necessarily mutually exclusive, the band felt loath to compromise their sound for the sake of record company demands.


The scratchy guitar sound had to stay, the band insisted. Simple is better, insisted Mick, and he talked long and hard with the American producer to find some agreement. The producer was under as much pressure, too, to produce a saleable product, both because of his reputation and his percentage of the gross.


Sony's A and R man would sit in with them during the initial sessions and Mick hoped he'd be able to please him enough to get rid of him as soon as possible.


Phoenix had a 92 channel mixer, sequencers, loopers and all the latest gadgetry to play with. The green room featured sofa's, a plasma TV and a bar with sea views. Cocaine could be had by simply asking, but Freddie insisted drugs be kept well away. He'd be a dominating presence throughout the sessions to make sure it was so.


A trickle of visitors came and went as they worked, including Roger the Dodger. Michelle grabbed him for some cameo backing vocals and he went away chuffed with himself. It'd been a good while since anyone had asked him to sing.


Mick wanted to get Sony's 'hit' out of the way so their people would leave them alone. The band endeavoured to give them a hook laden love song of Anna's called 'Bondage' - and evocative and ambiguous title - which Sony thought, contained the edginess they thought commercial. No matter that the song had nothing to do with fringe sexual practices but the enslavement of the heart, it was bound to be interpreted as a song about B and D and that suited the recording company fine.


It took them three days to nail the song, with two dozen takes and three final cuts from which to make a selection. The producer put on strings for one of the cuts over Mick's objections. A rush was sent off to Sony post haste and the word came back they were satisfied. The band could now relax and get on with the real work.


For the next song, they plugged Anna's voice straight into the sound desk a'la punk music. The song was a rapid, full tilt, punk song with a thundering bass and distorted guitars. Anna's vocals were aggressive and uncompromising. Compared to their 'hit,' it was fun to record and left the band in high spirits.


The following number the band felt was their tour de force for the album. Titled, 'You Burn Me' the words had been written by Michelle with she and Mick putting together the tune in their little studio. The lyric had blown everyone away and the tune had a haunting beauty. It was slow, rolling to a faintly Blues style, with a scorching solo from Mick in the bridge. The sound was sparse and reminded everyone of a rocky cliff overlooking the sea.


For the first time, either on stage or in the studio, Michelle duetted with Anna on the chorus. They sang together, side by side, on one mike in the vocal booth with their arms around each other. It was all too much for Mick and Freddie took him out and down to the pub after the session.


"When's she due, Mick?" he asked, "you coping?"


"Uh, ah, another month. Maybe the 10th? Something like that."


"Boy or girl, y'know?"


"You sound like Terry," he grinned. "All clucky, cribs, baby clothes and advice about four hourly feeds."


"Hey! I don't want to know about feeds," he laughed. "She breastfeeding?"


"Fuck you!" Mick smiled.


"That song," Freddie said, suddenly serious. "Not about you, is it?"


"How'd you guess?"


"'Soft and languid like a rose?' Oh yeah, 'a rose' Mick? Since when did you become a rose?"


"Yeah, well, thorny issue."


"Oh, funny! Bothering you is it?"


"Not quite what I thought 'settling down' was going to be like. 'Here's the missus and the missus's missus.' I get half, I suppose, and I should be grateful..."


"But?"


"Hell, what would you do if Terry..."


"I'd be happy for the piece and quiet," he laughed. "Give me a break from her nattering. Other cultures can have multiple wives, except, I guess, the shoe's on the other foot. Multiple husbands, er, I mean, a wife and a husband, er... what the Hell is Anna, wife or husband?"


"Um, beats me. The roles seem all mixed up with me slotting somewhere in the middle."


"Don't tell me you and Anna..."


"Nah!" he laughed. "She's all Michelle's."


"Right, so we have, lesbian, bisexual and hetero," he counted on his fingers. "Seems kind of a tidy set up to me? Very United Nations! Hey, do you get to play in the middle of that?"


"Fat chance!" Mick laughed. "I think if I grabbed a piece of Anna I'd wake up with a steak knife in my ribs."


"Ah, so you think Mal..."


"I dunno," he shrugged. "Michelle doesn't think she'd do such a thing but I'm not so sure. I reckon there's sides of Anna we haven't seen, nor do we want to."


"Yeah? You buy this Russian mafia thing?"


"Hell, no! That's the editor of The Echo trying to create copy. If there'd been any criminal connection Immigration would've bundled them all out of the country for sure. Nah, Anna's just haunted in ways we can only imagine. Imagine blowing away your own brother?"


"Many times, he's an arsehole!"


"For real? You live with that?"


"She's got this fantasy about him being killed by the Chechens. Don't sound like she's ready to deal with it. Kids do stupid things, tragedies happen, no-one's fault."


"What if she flipped out and shot him on purpose? Thought of that? What if she always was a little psycho? They had an argument, Anna grabs her old man's gun... blam!"


"Y'reckon?"


"Possible!"


"Then maybe she stitched up Mal, huh? Made it seem like someone else? She wasn't as wasted as she appeared. Someone texted the address and called home. Had to've been Anna, and she must've known what she was doing."


"Flipped into her catatonia afterwards? She's good at the drama."


"Sure is. She had the cops believing she was off her face."


"So maybe Mal had her bailed and she jabbed him? How'd she do that without leaving a trace of blood on her clothing? How'd she make the knife disappear, with, presumably, her fingerprints all over it?"


"Accomplice? Someone's covering for her and got rid of the evidence?"


"Could be," agreed Mick. "She's persuasive with men. I wouldn't be surprised if she got someone to take the rap for her as well. Maybe that Rumanian dude she hangs with, Dimitru?"


"That's fucking cunning, Mick. D'you suppose she's that cool and calculating? She'd really think nothing of dropping her pals in the shit?"


"Maybe, to protect her own arse. She controls everyone around her. Mal was beyond her control, so..."


"She control you as well?" Freddie asked. "Maybe through Michelle?"


"Yeah, probably, and through The Curse. She's knows how important the band is to me and Michelle."


"And she stumbles and you're there to pick her up, cover her arse, smooch up the press so they'll go easy? You know your way around the entertainment scene, you mentor her, refine the music and give her the vehicle she needs to stand on stage. It seems to me she'll outgrow you and then what?"


"I always thought it likely and some stage. I'm more worried about Michelle. She doesn't see what she's got herself into."


"Terry reckons Michelle grounds her - that without her she'd spin off past the planets."


"Shit, no pressure, right? And Michelle's so bedazzled by her, I'm not sure she wouldn't join her on Jupiter."


"Maybe the baby'll make the difference, eh, Mick? Bring her down to Earth?"


"Hope so, Freddie, hope so," Mick replied, shaking his head.


The drum booth at Phoenix was as big as Flyblown's whole studio. Karen not only had her Ludwig kit set up but had a variety of other percussion, including a large hanging gong. During the breaks she played around, with Junior always in attendance, smashing bottles and things to see how they sounded. It felt like they were a couple of kids and this was an ideal playroom.


Through the glass she could see Anna at the keyboard with Michelle on bass cooking something up together. They were waiting for Mick to get back from the pub so they could start the next session. Karen envied the girl's partnership. It was something she felt she couldn't quite be a part of. They communicated with each other like a couple of twin sisters - seeming to voice each other's thoughts.


Mick came into the studio looking happy and ready to begin. She felt reassured by his presence - he was the rudder that made everything come together. He took up his Gibson and strolled over to the girls listening to what they were doing.


The drum booth effectively put a wall between Karen and the rest of the band. Unlike the other instruments, the drum was an organic instrument and bled into the microphones and the pick-ups on the guitars - hence the booth. The booth allowed the producer to control the sound better - deadening the drums' natural reverb. 


But for Karen, the booth also isolated and protected her from the bickering and haggling that always took place during the creative process. Fatigue caused tempers to wear thin, especially Anna's, who was frustrated easily.


Nothing could move fast enough for Anna. Karen could see her grow more prickly with each take they did of a song. Mick could be something of a perfectionist, always insisting they ought to do another take just to see if they could do something better.


Michelle invariably supported Mick and generally managed to calm Anna down. When things got too heated, Anna would stump off to the green room and Mick and Michelle would work alone till she returned.


The American producer, however, told her that The Curse was a cinch to work with and he'd encountered much more difficult dynamics with other bands. At least they still talked to each other. Metalica, he claimed, fell out so badly once he had to bring them in one at a time to record their parts. None of them were on speaking terms with each other.


They worked well into the night with Anna sometimes napping in the green room. She felt fine, playing around in the booth with Junior when not needed to play. Catering ensured there was plenty of snacks on hand and cases of beer, which Mick and Freddie mostly drunk themselves.


In all Karen loved the studio, its equipment and facilities, and it was a comfortable place to work. After a few days, Sony's men didn't hang around and they were free to have fun.


Karen even contributed another song. It was a novelty, a filler, consisting mostly of the results of her experimenting in the drum booth. Mick, Freddie and Michelle laid on some impromptu rap, over clanks, gongs and bottles smashing, while Karen grounded it with a 4 beat on the bass and tom. Anna didn't take part, branding it 'silly,' and retreated to the green room during recording.


Last, and the least as far as the band was concerned, was their second 'hit' for the boys at Sony. It was pretty much a ripoff of U2's 'Vertigo' although changed around a little with new vocals written by Mick. It jangled along with a well-worked riff and text book hooks. There was little original about it and they did it to please their sponsors, not themselves. Tons of reverb on Anna's voice put Bono to shame, with their diva rarely sounding better. In all, one day saw the number come together and another day for callbacks. With that, the CD was in the can and they could go have a party.


Sony's young guns joined them all in the green room to shmooze and their chat was platitudinous and hip. Mick told Michelle that if the album bombed he doubted they'd be so sanguine. It'd go from, 'oh, yeah, really great, dudes,' to 'I always knew you guys sucked, but didn't want to say.'


True to his word to Catherine, Mick didn't let Anna out of sight. A couple of Sony men were set to whisk her away, but he told them the band needed to stay together this one night. Anna was for partying, but Mick talked her out of it. Instead, he whispered to Michelle to take her home and 'sit on her.' He knew that could be interpretted a couple of ways and Michelle caught the drift, glaring at him. However, she obeyed and got her into a taxi.


Mick wanted to get drunk and had an able assistant in Freddie. Soon the two were in high spirits and unsteady on their feet. A range of duets between the two drunks featuring old time hits ensured nearly everyone else left early. Karen and Junior, of course, had slipped out long ago.


Karen preferred her own party with Junior. When they arrived home she was still buzzing and very horny. Junior was happy to oblige and they made love like cats for half the night. Sometime around two in the morning she asked Junior if he wanted to get married. At 2.02am he answered yes and she noted the time in her diary.


"Uh, oh," she told him, "how do I tell my parents?"


"Phone, fax, Email, carrier pigeon, I don't know," Junior replied.


"Shit, they'll go fucking ape shit!"


"What about my mum?" Junior said, a look of trepidation on his face, "I can hear the screaming already. Lets just do it, Carrie, and not tell anyone?"


"No, I want to be given away properly. I want the full bullshit."


"Why?"


"Cos it's something that's only going to happen once in my life. I don't want to be an old woman saying, 'I'd wished I'd gotten married properly, with my dad, bridesmaids and a fucking garterbelt.'"


"Garterbelt? Oh, yeah!"


"Relax, sugar," she grinned, "you're suppose to biff it at the crowd."


"I thought the bouquet?"


"I want a garterbelt, Jun', and I want to throw it to Michelle so she'll have to marry Mick."


"Why? What do you care if she marries him?"


"I do, Jun'. She's really good for Mick. I want to see him happy."


"I guess. But it's not like you to worry so much about what other people do."


"Mick's special, and Michelle. Jun'..." she sucked in her breath, "...she's carrying my half sister!"


"Huh? What the fuck..."


"It's going to be a girl, I know it."


"You do? So, how come she's your half - um, I don't get it. You're not making sense."


"I'm adopted!"


"Ah, ha, uh, oh!"


"Oh, yeah, Jun', you're really making sense."


"Karen, could you dial me in?"


"Simple, Jun'. My dad's not my real dad."


"Oh, shit, oh, no!"


"You got it?"


"Oh, yeah, the fog's lifting. Holy cow, Karrie, does he know?"


"No! I was too scared. He'll be pissed at me for not saying anything. I don't know how to tell him."


"How do you feel - I mean, like, you're in the band, for Christ's sake, and there's your dad playing guitar and he doesn't even know he's your dad. Fuck! Michelle's like your stepmum and she's pregnant with your..."


"Half sister, yeah, kinda weird."


"Oh, yeah, you said it."


"I want my dad to give me away, don't you see?"


"Sure, but how long have you known?"


"Since I was eighteen. My mum's Israeli, Sabra Gideon-David. I was adopted at birth by the only Jewish family who'd have me. They never told me I was adopted. I only found out when I got the info from Child Services. My parents explained they wanted me to have as normal life as possible. They were too old-fashioned, Jun', but they did their best. I know they loved me - they even put money into the band when we were starting out. They said they didn't want anyone to know, but they weren't going to have their daughter begging on the streets. Typical of them, Jun', they've known the worst of times and they didn't want that to happen to me."


"So Mick'll be my father in law," Junior considered. "Michelle my mother in law - that's good, at least she's not a hag."


"Oh, sure, Jun' let's look on the bright side? 'I've got a blond babe as a mother in law, who's only a couple of years older than me.' Don't get any bright ideas, Jun'."


"Hey! Me?" he smiled innocently. "My sister in law's a baby and my dad and Mick will be, what?"


"Friends! Shit, I hope so."


"Bridesmaid? You can't have Michelle, so, what, Anna?"


"I guess so," she shrugged, "so how do you feel converting to the Jewish faith?"


"What?" Junior looked astonished.


"A quick Bar Mitzvah?"


"Huh? Do I have to?"


"And the circumcision?"


"Oh, no," he said, aghast, "not that, please, not that!"


Karen roared with laughter.


Mick woke up to the beeping of the phone by his ear. Michelle groaned and put a pillow over her head. Beside her, Mick swore long and hard before picking up the receiver. The time was 10 past 10 in the morning, unsocially early.


Before he had a chance to speak, Terry started. "Do you know what my fool of a son has done?" she yelled.


"What? Karen pregnant?"


"Worse, he's marrying her. He told me he's becoming a Jew but I think that was just his sick humour."


"Huh? What? Um, congratulations! Wish them both the best," Mick mumbled.


"He's not doing it. He's too young. He's not getting married at 18, if I have anything to do with it. Christ, what made him do such a thing?"


"Love, I guess. Ask him?"


"What does an 18 year old know about love?"


"I dunno, I'm not 18."


"Mick, can you talk them out of it? He won't listen to me - and Freddie's gone to the pub."


"Yeah? Which one?"


"He never said. Don't you bail on me, Mick Johnson!"


"Terry, calm down! You throw a fit and they'll just do it anyway and you won't get an invite. Tell them to make it a long engagement and maybe it'll blow over."


"Y'think?"


"I dunno, look, it was a hard night. I'm kinda tired and Michelle's flaked out."


"I'll bet!" she replied, reprovingly. "Freddie fell out the taxi at three in the morning. I left him on the couch. No way was I going to have the drunken bastard in our bed..."


"Look, Terry, this is all fascinating and I can't offer any advice at this time."


"But, you'll talk to them, please? Junior really looks up to you and Karen, well, Karen sort of sees you as a Father figure."


"She does? They do? Hmm, maybe later? I promise I'll call them and see what the game is."


"You do that, Mick, and thanks."


"Yeah, bye."


"Whazzat all about?" Michelle mumbled.


"Karen and Junior have announced their engagement!"


"Oh! Tell'm to wait till after little Mick's born. I gotta be careful about drinking alcohol."


"I will," he smiled. "Little Mick? You going to have a boy?"


"Sure of it - good night, babe!" 


With that she closed her eyes again.


Michelle's waters broke three days later. She was three weeks premature and Mick raced her to the delivery suite in the Camarro. Shortly after, Anna screamed up in a taxi and bustled her way in to join the couple.


"Did I miss anything?" she asked.


"Not yet," moaned Michelle, "he's taking his sweet time."


"C'mon," Mick said, "it's only been half an hour. Give the little bugger some time?"


Anna stationed herself on the other side and held her hand. "Remember to push - and breathe."


"I fucking know what to do," Michelle snapped. "I've been over it so many times - ow, fuck! Sheeit! That was a serious contraction!"


"Doctor, doctor!" yelled Anna, excited, "the baby's coming!"


"Not fucking yet, Anna! Y'see anything?"


Anna looked between her legs. "Um, it's kinda bulging!"


"What do you fucking - ow - fuck you, Mick fucking Johnson! You fucking put it there, get the fucking thing outa me - ow, sheeit!"


"Doctor?" yelled Anna, again.


"It's fucking too early so shut the fuck up, Anna! They're just contractions and they're too far apart still. See? Time me on that clock over there?"


Anna looked from Michelle to the clock. At least it gave her something to do. "Come's in batches, Mick," she said, "then buttons off a little. When I feel the urge to push, that's the time."


"Got it, babe!" 


"Try and get Anna to relax, huh? Nothing's happening that's not supposed to happen. Women have been doing it for ages. You alright?"


"Course, Babe."


"You're goin' to be a daddy, soon, lover. You gonna cope at your age?"


"Long time comin', sweetheart. You watch me!"


"Oh, shit, here's another one - ow, sheeit! It's, ah, strong - ahhh, Anna, get the fucking doctor, what's keeping you?"


"The time..."


"Fuck the fucking time - OWWW, shoosh, ANNA?"


"Ok, ok, I'm going!"


Twenty minutes later Emily Michelle Johnson popped out to say hello - a quivering, greasy, little bundle that announced her arrival with a bellow no louder than a cat's meeow. Anna burst into tears and cradled both the baby and Mother as Michelle put her to the breast for the first time. Anna seemed to have experienced every push and heave during the birth and Mick thought she looked as tired as the baby's Mother.


Mick went out into the waiting room to Freddie and Terry. While Terry zoomed in to coo and give more useful advice, Freddie took his old pal outside for the required cigar.


"Gonna get a look in?" Freddie grinned, "between all them women, I doubt you'll have a snowball's."


"Let 'em fuss," Mich shrugged, "there's always the footie on Saturday."


"She's a girl, you dummy."


"Is she? I haven't been able to take a look. Anyway, lots of girls play rugby. Maybe netball, then?"


"Teach her guitar?"


"Yeah, there's that! And I get to give her away when she gets married. They can't take that away from me," he grinned.


"You fucker! One more word about weddings and someone's going to get a punch in the face."


"Not looking forward to the happy day?"


"I'll be drunk as a skunk all day. You watch me?"


"I believe you!" he laughed. "I gotta officiate. Karen wants me to step in for her dad. I'm fucked if I know why. Apparently her folks are in Alaska, or somewhere."


"Yeah? Not coming over to see their kid married off?"


"Nope! Don't want to upset their holiday, I guess."


"I know how they feel. Jesus Christ, do I know!"


"Haha! Terry giving you a hard time?"


"She wants to organise everything. I mean, at one time she's all against it. Then, she flips and she's running around like a blue arsed fly. You watch her, I guarantee she'll have your little kid booked into school tomorrow."


"I think Anna's already picked one out!"


"See? They're fucking impossible when they're in this mood. All you can do is get out of the fucking way. Come to the pub with me? They'll be at it all day," he nodded towards the door. "Poor little thing," he added, shaking his head.


"I'll tell Michelle."


"I wouldn't bother, mate. She won't hear you over that racket."


Mick looked into the room and waved to Terry. She came over and he told her he was going to the pub and to pass on the message. Terry waved him away before going back to the huddle by the bed.


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KATZMAREK(c)
