The Devil on Kazoo

9: The New Plan

"Don't you feel it growing, day by day

People getting ready for the news
Some are happy, some are sad
Whoa, gotta let the music play"

"Listen to the Music" by The Doobie Brothers

"How were we supposed to know that you two would show up?" Kathy asked. Her fists were planted on her hips and her cheeks were splotchy with red. Bash could tell she was as angry as she was embarrassed.

Tonight, Wolgemoth & Sons did not ring out with music. Tonight, it upheld the arguments and emotions of the past few hours and seemed to be tipping ever so slightly beneath its weight.

"At least Bash and I didn't plummet down from the roof!" Smiley retorted.

"At least Syl and I weren't trying to slither our way into enemy territory like snakes!"

"That is enough," Syl said. Even though her tone was low, Kathy and Smiley stopped their argument to look at her.

Syl had recovered from her violent outburst and now a dangerous sort of calm had overtaken her countenance.

"What's done is done," she said. She absently swirled her pinky finger around the rim of her tea mug before setting it to the side. "None of us should have been snooping our noses into other people's business."

She glanced at Bash and he detected something in her gaze like an apology.

"But we did. And we got our...karma?" She looked at Bash again, but for a different reason this time.

He nodded and she went on.

"Now we know who we're dealing with. They are rich mu'daks who don't know their arse from a microphone, yet somehow get hundreds more listeners than we do."

"Not to mention their lack of taste in music," Bash added, still upset over the one boy's comment about Jimi Hendrix.

"They were just ever so rude to us." Kathy drug her hand over her face. "And Jim...I thought he was so nice and all this time, he's been working for them."

"You didn't spill any of our information to him, did you?" Smiley asked.

Kathy glared at him sharply. "I'm just about tired of your–"

"All right," Bash interrupted. "We've had enough arguing for one day. Maybe even three. Why don't we try and get some rest? We have a radio station to run in the morning."

"For now," Kathy, who was not usually the pessimist, muttered.

She left first, followed by Smiley.

Bash assumed Syl would go in after them, but she didn't. Bash was too tired (or, rather, too afraid) to go over the day's events again, so he said, "I've been working on a new song."

"I'll get my guitar."

While she brought back her bass, Bash fished out the legal pad paper he'd stuffed in his pocket and unfurled it for her.

Syl took it and mused over it for a long time, nodding every once in a while. She'd absently slide her fingers up and down the neck of her guitar without picking the strings, envisioning the bass lines.

The water was particularly quiet that night. Even the wharf didn't bustle like it usually did. Everything was so peaceful; so unlike the storms brewing inside The Crumbs.