SALVATION chapter 5

Salvation
Chapter 5

San Diego, California

Nick pulled between faded white parking strips outside his apartment shutting down the Harley.
Unstrapping the helmet his cheeks filled like balloons before exhaling fatigue.
He checked his watch under dreary carport lighting. It read 11:20.
The night air was sultry..It hadn't rained. Cloud cover insulated warmth left from the day.
He yawned, walking across the lot then stopped and turned.
A sudden chill pushed at his back riding a cold breeze out of the north.
He shivered. The sudden change crept passed as if searching for a home.
The unnumberable recollection of Michelle's warm body pressing close to his back returned.
After exploring the studio they decided they were hungry.
The local diner was open until ten giving them plenty of time.
Michelle insisted paying half, and Nick insisted she didn't.
It was a frolic fight.
They compromised, each saving face. He paid for dinner, she left the tip.
Shop talk was deliberately left out of conversation.
He wanted to know her.
She the same about him.

Her surname was Mc Allister.
He learned she'd recently celebrated her thirtieth birthday in August.
Less than a month ago.
She was born and raised in Aspen Colorado where both her parents still reside.
Her formative years were spent in private schools..
Both Father and Mother supported Michelle's early interest in music.
She'd learned piano before the age of puberty.
She spoke freely, openly, concerning her childhood, parents, and love for winter sports..
Figure skating, snow skiing, sledding, snowmobiling which led to her interest in motorcycles.
She was the product of the great American dream..Loved, educated, admittedly, a bit indulged.

Listening to Michelle's life story was like the unfolding of a fairy tale.
Nick shook his head..'Down in the boon docks' a pre British invasion pop song toyed with his self
esteem.
Seeing himself as a poor boy in rags hopelessly pursuing the rich girl from across the tracks.
In romance novels those hurdles of culture and social status where often overcome by the power of love.
In Nick's world, birds of a feather still flocked together.

His was a world where people started life at zero.
Anything added was done so by the laws of cause and effect.
The cause was survival.
The effect was survival.
What made Nick different from most people starting at zero was his definition of the term.
Survival simply meant creation.
Fulfillment was centered in the act of creation.
So much so that even as the development of a music composition came nearer to completion.
It's initial non matter form shaped and honed, constructed and forged into the material world.
Nick's interest would wane. The piece become something of less value than at it's conception.
Until, by the end of the process, he would have already moved on.
Unlike others who kept adding space between themselves and zero in the form of 'things' gained.
Nick began everyday from the same initial starting point.
His family never understood it.
His friends never understood it.
The society he survived in didn't understand it.
And Nick never quite understood himself for it.

Sitting across the table from this beautiful woman.
A woman fully enraptured by all that life offered.
Things and non things equally exciting, equally enriching.
He felt alone.
His difference separating him.
He saw in his mind's eye how that difference would disappoint her, and fill her with sadness.
Not today. Not tonight, but soon..Very soon.
When she was finished with the Nick she thought she wanted to know.
When she finally realized, and shrank back in fear, the zero-ness of his life.

"Where are you?"..
He looked up.
Her eyes were searching him. Eyes that smiled saying, "I am proud I've found you."
"Are you alright?"..
His body moved without thought.
He stood and slid next to her in the booth seat taking her hand.
"Right here..Right now..This time..This place..This second..I am definitely alright."
He kissed her.
Hating himself for not protecting her. For not choosing to save her.
For falling in love with her.

La Mesa, California

Utopia Records exists as a sub label company under the parent Universal Music Group Corporation.
It's single moderate office is located in a somewhat unique area of university avenue zoned for both residential and commercial use.
The north side of the street consists of 1960's era two bedroom stucco track houses.
Today, practically every other structure has a business sign posted in it's front yard.
Income tax services, chiropractics, palm readers, insurance companies, dental arts, florists, among others.
On the south side of the street, the general atmosphere of the business district is one of hard working independent business proprietors catering to middle class America.
Laundry mats, discount groceries, auto repair shops, thrift stores, liquor stores, strip malls with 'for lease' signs in over half the available offices.

Utopia Records is on the north side of the street.
Ed Hoffman's littered office is located in a converted back bedroom..
The main reception area and front desk were at one time, someone else's living room.
Mr. Hoffman's office smells like the stubby cigars that burn consistently in the abalone shell ashtray sitting on his desk..
There seems to be a verifiable fascination with Venetian blinds through out the office.
As with most establishments gracing the north side business sector of university avenue..
Perhaps due to the Venetian blind cleaning service and discount factory outlet located at the end of the block.

Ed Hoffman is a big man.
Now in his early 50's, a life well aquainted with the slings and arrows of
outrageous fortune.
Over sized posters of Green Bay Packers football teams adorn the walls and halls..
Bitter sweet reminders of what could and should have been.
Slated to be drafted into the National Football League as an offensive guard.
His left knee blew out in a time modern sports medicine techniques were yet unimagined.
The disappointment and suffering in his own life may have been the driving factor fueling his desire to help struggling musicians realize their chosen dreams.
His oversize face, now drooping with age, still retained large sympathetic brown eyes akin to a basset hound.
A voice moderately high pitched. Mismatched in comparison to his 300 lb. frame.
Clients were often mildly shocked when meeting Ed for the first time.
Especially after initially speaking with him on the phone...
The tenor quality left to the imagination a young twenty five year old executive with sleek black hair, Italian designer clothing, and turbo charged BMW's.
Often was the case.
Black and silver clad musicians would involuntarily seek beyond the 6 foot 6 inch man standing before them in shorts, scuffed running shoes, and faded Charger's jersey advising him, "I am here to see the 'other' Ed Hoffman."
Currently he was on a phone conference with a Universal executive located in Atlanta Georgia concerning one of the acts Ed represented.
He leaned back in the oversized office chair blocking a third of the wall behind him.
A wall covered with 8x10 framed photos of bands and individual artists he'd handled over the years.
"Sure Sal, I can get in touch with them...
Well, they've been active mostly in the L.A. area..
Their sales?...Some..Mostly in the micro market..
They've got a decent fan base working for them off the LALA site..
This year?...To date?
Just a sec....I can give you that.."
He leaned forward wedging the phone receiver between his shoulder and right ear.
Bringing up account software on the computer as he spoke..
"Yep here it is right here..27,830 mp3's off LALA...
With an additional 4,900 full album down loads. Mostly off the first album..
Ok, and here's Amazon..They've got 6,100 on mp3 singles, and 1,443 album down loads."
He paused, listening..Then responded hesitantly..
"Really...I am surprised actually..Pleasantly surprise of course.., just surprised.
Well, I mean Universal has been leaning heavily into rap the last few years."
He paused listening again..
"What do you mean, have I heard the new single?..I was there when they mixed it down Sal.
I am not getting defensive Sal..I am just not quite sure what you getting at."
He suddenly felt he was being evaluated..He decided to choose his next words carefully..
"I think the new song is fine..It's just..Well, pretty much in the same vein they've been writing in.."
What he heard next made him pause..
"Oh, really?..Ken likes it that much?
What?...Your shittin' me!...Last night?...Oh, shit man..Oh, shit..
Ken didn't seem the type...I mean nobody loved the industry more than he did.
This Friday?...Sure..Yes, I'll fly out..
Wow!..So, your taking over the rock division?..As of today..
I see...Congratulations are in order.
I'll see you come Friday then..Right...Right, I'll have Margie get the details...Ok Sal.."
He hung up.
The left knee strained as his weight pressed down walking to the reception area.
Margie was working for a change..On the phone.
A second line blinked holding..The receptionist's pink dyed pixy hair danced as she spoke.
"Yeah girlfriend, this weekend..at Indio's in the valley.."
Fair skin, black lipstick, blue fingernails, nose, ear, tongue piercings..
She could chew gum and talk at the same time..
In Ed's eyes that made her a cut above her predecessors.
"Have I heard it?...Hello!..We are their record label, duh.."
She hung up looking at Ed.
"Wass up, bro?"
He pointed to the phone.
"You've got another call waiting."
She held up a 'hold on' index finger to him and picked up the phone.
"Utopia records Margie speaking....Uh huh.."
She shook her head as if in agreement as she spoke.
"Friday, Saturday, Sunday at Indio's in the valley...San Fernando..Right...Bye."
"Busy day?" Ed smiled.
"Duh!..Haven't even had time to do my nails!"
He chuckled. "Margie I need you to hook up with the Corporate office in Atlanta.
Get me details on a funeral for a Kenneth Anderson."
She raised her eyebrows.."Somebody died?" She said popping a big pink gum balloon.
"Yeah, an exec I knew at Universal...It was suicide actually."
Her eyes widened, "Jumpin' Jesus!"
"Yeah..Anyway I got to fly out there Friday and attend the funeral."
Her eyebrows raised again. "That mean I don't got to work Friday?"
He ran the palm of his hand over a short cropped salt and pepper scalp.
Too much input in too short a time, he thought.
"I don't know about that yet Margie.." turning back to his office..
She pushed.
"Yeah, cause if I don't have to work some friends of mine are goin' out."
The phone rang..
She rolled her eyes picking it up. "Utopia records Margie speaking."
Ed could hear her voice rise to squeaky excitement as he limped into the office.
"Oh my God!..Your the fifth person in a row to ask me that!"..Believing once and
for all in the serendipity of the universe.

He sat down heavy in the office chair, making a mental note to prepare for rain in the next day or so..
The soft tissue damage in his knee advised it..
He put both hands on the sides of the throbbing knee and slowly massaged.
Then did a double take at the computer.
He'd left the sales totals up on the screen after hanging up with Sal.
The totals had changed..Drastically..
"That was 27,830 off LALA right?" He talked to himself not believing what
he saw..
The mp3 sales now read 54,202..A difference of 26,372.
His hands trembled..Scrolling down he checked the Amazon sales..
Was 6,100 single mp3 sales..Now the total read 14,373..
8273 new sales?...He double clicked the calculator icon and added the
combined new sales from the two sites..
"34,646 mp3 sales in less than ten minutes?
No way..No fucking way!"
He grabbed at the mouse almost knocking it off the desk scrolling to the
top of the account page..
"You fucked up man..You pulled the wrong account! Sal is going to be furious!"..
He spun the mouse wheel until it topped out at the beginning of the account page and sat back in the chair astonished.
"It is the right account" he whispered..."Plain as day."
In thick Black Arial font the words MENACE stared back at him..