Three Broken Lives the Adventure

I had spent a couple of years teaching her guitar, and she was okay, without ever being great. When she saw him pull out his little Ukulele bass. I saw her face brighten. "Oh shit yeah, I could play that thing."

It was pretty funny to watch as he tried to explain the concepts and patterns. She was learning, but it didn't stop him from pulling frantically at his hair in frustration.

She wasn't an easy student to teach. God, he was patient though. He sat with her and worked and worked. It took ages, but there was real growth in her abilities, so much so that we started to use it in the show. Worryingly for me, though, watching them together, him sitting behind her, his arms around her, showing her the finger positions, and scale movements. It made me tremble, because there was now a deepening affection, it wasn't just flirting. I saw real emotions bubbling away. In her eyes, I saw something, yes, they sparkled maybe more than usual, but there was something else: desire, a yearning?

There was definitely a new bond developing, and it was more than friendship.

Those thoughts ate away at my inner demons of insecurity. The harder I worked at burying them deeper down inside, the bigger the dent my confidence took. It ate away at my self-esteem, which I felt waning. Was Saffy interested in him? Was that attraction sexual? Lots of thoughts flew crazily around my head.

I hated those thoughts. I made a conscious decision not to give into that particular brand of poisonous paranoia.

To take the pressure off myself, I pulled back, separated myself. To keep my mind occupied, I spent my spare time working on the old tour bus, Gerty.

I had owned Gerty since I was old enough to drive. She was an old sixty-foot public transport bus. She was my home when I was single. When the band started, I converted her into a tour bus.

It was now more than two years since we used her last; she had just been laying around gathering cobwebs, and rust. When we moved into the farm cottage, I brought her along and parked her behind the barn. There were plenty of jobs that needed attending, so I threw myself into them.

Noah and Saffy were so deeply engrossed in their lessons and song writing, I doubted they even missed me.

Saffy was a bit full of herself, and rightly so. She had picked up the bass incredibly quickly. It showed how good Noah really was. I don't think she noticed I hadn't even been in the studio with them for three days. They were utilising Saffy's new skills, overdubbing bass tracks into some of the older demo tracks.

I was under the bus, in the middle of ripping out the old brake master-cylinder.

I felt Saffy's presence, I saw the shadow fall over my legs and I smelt her sweet jasmine perfume.

"Hey, babes, what are you doing out here? Why aren't you helping with the recording?"

Sliding out from under the bus, covered in oil and grease, I peered up at her. "Nah, you don't need me now. Noah's got it all covered."

She looked shocked. She was used to my little bouts of depression. She had helped drag me back from the abyss enough to recognise it. "Babes, don't be like that. We need you, especially me. More now than ever. You know I can't sing without you."

I sneered harshly. "Hah, rubbish, I have been listening. You sound better than ever. You don't need me."

"Like hell," she snapped. She dragged the brake cylinder out of my hand. "Don't you ever say that. I need you, I can't do it without you. You are my rock, I can't sing without your voice in my ear."

I pushed over the beer crate that had all my tools in it to sit on. Staring at her and seeing the anxiety in her face, I spat out, "Bullshit, Saffy, I've been listening to you. It sounds incredible, and what's more, you know it."

Her expression paled a little; was that guilt tugging at her eyes as she struggled to find words? "Isaac, you are so wrong. Yes, I love working with Noah, he is pretty special musically, but he isn't you. This is fun for me because I do it with you. I love you, you are my husband. If having Noah around upsets you, then maybe we should call the whole thing off."

That shocked me. "What? No, we both know how much better we are with him. He has brought out the best in both of us. Just don't bullshit me with false platitudes. He is way better than me. You don't need me."

She pushed me off the beer crate I was perched upon and sat on my chest. Leaning down her face inches from mine. "I do need you. I wouldn't do this without you. I wouldn't want to."

Her lips covered my oil covered lips, not a gentle little peck, a deep passionate kiss, a kiss that made the world evaporate and my insecurities dissolve into the ether.

She squirmed and wriggled, lying on top of me, her pelvis grinding down on my trapped penis. She knew the effect she had on me. As her tongue ravished my mouth, swirling and sliding around like a crazy thing, the twitching hunk of flesh turned into a raging erection.

She giggled, "God, you're so easy." She kissed me lightly before sitting up. "Come on into the studio; we need you. I need you."

She stood up, pulling the slave cylinder out of my grasp and dropping it on the ground beside me.

"I'm not going anywhere with this thing trapped in my undies." I moaned playfully.

She giggled. "I'll fix that later, babes, promise. I'll do you so hard it hurts."

When I finally walked into the studio, it was Noah who threw me my guitar. "Come on, bro, we need a nice riff."

I might have been outside, but I had been listening and knew he already had the riff. He programmed his keyboard for lead guitar. I heard him play it earlier. Saffron had clearly told him how I was feeling. He was just trying to pump me up... include me.

Trying to ignore what I had already heard and find something different, I worked around, picked away as he played, and Saffy sang. It was difficult, because I knew Noah had the riff down pat. If I was going to add something, I wanted it to be different, unusual.

I unplugged my guitar and stood up. "Guys, I'm going to go outside and find a quiet spot."

I found my favourite spot out on the verandah on the sun drenched front of the house, right away from the studio. I sat down, hummed the song over and over. I had to break my own rules, my mantra. Keep it simple, stupid, went out the window.

When I played lead, I automatically, like all guitar hacks, fell into the pentatonic scale, my favourite, especially for rock or blues. For this, I delved a little deeper, down into a concocted combination of Mixolydian, and Dorian. It was hard for me, as I said earlier, I'm no maestro, and moving away from the familiar created all sorts of problems. I had never really mastered either of these scales. It took me most of the day, but as dinner time arrived, I finally had something.

Saffy and Noah were sitting out the back, sprawled out on the wooden deck talking. "I think I have something if you wanna give it a crack," I said, interrupting their conversation.

Saffy jumped up quickly and dusted herself off. "Yes please," she purred. "Show us what ya got, wow us."

We all wandered back into the studio, and we set up. They started as they had been, allowing me to find the feel, the rhythm. I nodded in time with Noah's keys, I came in with my new riff. I felt the song lift as I fitted in my new riff. The interest was immediate. Saffy's voice grew in intensity, Noah's playing becoming more urgent, his foot literally pounding the floorboards into submission. Saffy started dancing as I got into the lead break. She swirled around like a drunken ballerina, her arms waving above her head.

After we came back into the chorus, we slowed it down, and that's where I fitted in my new finger picked adjunct. It felt like a nice way to bridge.

As the sounds slowly died around us, I peeked up at Saffy and saw the look on her face. She beamed, a big wide smile. When I looked at Noah, he had a similar expression.

"Damn, dude, that is fucking clever, oh yeah," he said, tapping his foot. "I love it."

All through dinner the mood was high; we laughed and chatted about up coming gigs and what to do. I was pretty keen on touring, but the downside meant moving away from our fan base and going back to playing small country pubs. Were we ready for that? It was Noah who said, "What we really need is an album, something we could sell. Something we could use to promote what we're about, make people listen. If you could come up with more riffs like that one today, I tell ya dude, we would be flying."

That night in bed, Saffy fulfilled her earlier promise, and we made love late into the night. Lately, she had become very passionate. I mean, our sex life was always hot, but lately it had gone up a level. Tonight seemed more impassioned than ever. Her squeals of delight were so bloody expressive.

The next morning Noah greeted us with a loud cheer. "Holy shit, what were you two on last night? Kept me awake. I had to take matters in my own hand. Holy shit, bro, I'm gonna need a new bottle of hand lotion."

Saffy giggled. Rather than sounding embarrassed, she said, "I woulda thought you'd produced your own."

He threw straight back at her laughingly, "Don't you worry, I did require tissues."

The next month was busy. We had gigs coming out our ears, and I was still trying to fix up the old bus so I could get it across the pits for a new COF. It wasn't just the brake cylinder, it needed new pads, front and back. The exhaust was pretty well shot. The battery was flat and wouldn't take a charge, so we were up for a new battery.

The gigs were great, our reputation was growing. We had venues chasing us, rather than the other way around. We were doing all right, we actually had spare cash, which we were putting aside to try and put together a recording deal.

I managed to climb out from under my little case of lost confidence. Depression was something I battled my whole life. Saffy knew it, and helped out where she could. She knew how to keep my moods elevated, and it wasn't all sex. She knew when I just needed a hug, a kiss, just a pat on the back or a kind word.

The music is what drove us; we could all see how good it was. The demos we made were good. We decided if we couldn't get a label to take us seriously, we would do it independently.

Noah was far more well known than us, he had contacts. However, even he was struggling as we tried to find a way to get a decent product, something we could hang our hats on.

We were all feeling a little blue about how difficult it was. Taking the initiative, I contacted an old mate. When I rang him, he sounded pretty keen. He had his own hobby studio, but it was bloody good. He had a thirty-two track desk, with twelve-channel digital interface, and all the best mics and programs.

I took around a box of beer and we sat down to talk. I played him some of our newer demos. As we listened, I saw a quiet acceptance of how good he thought they were. "All right, Isaac, I'm in, but it will still cost you. What say we work on an EP, eight tracks. If what I hear on the demos is as good as I think it is, it shouldn't take more than a week to record, then another couple of weeks to mix down and finalise. Have you got a grand? I'll do it for that, and you play a gig for my wife's birthday."

We shook hands. "Deal, bro. Lock us in for two week's time."

Noah seemed disappointed when I broke the news over the dinner table. Saffron, though was ecstatic. Noah looked uncomfortable, disconcerted. "Dude, why didn't you talk to me before committing? I do have contacts, at real studios, I know it has taken time, but I was on it, Bro."

Saffy grimaced as he spat out, "You know, better equipment, better experience, and okay, it would have cost more, but come on, mate. We all know, you get what you pay for."

Saffron looked confused, "But this is what we talked about, Noah, just an EP, something we could market at gigs, something we could try and push into radio. Dude, if you didn't want to do this, why didn't you say earlier?"

"Sorry, Saffy, I'm not trying to be difficult. I just thought that we should have talked about it before committing." He gave me an accusatory glare. "It might not be a lot of money, but it will be what we base our future on. I was hoping it would be something we could all be proud of."

I was getting a bit pissed. "Listen, Noah, you're being harsh, dude. You haven't even met Carey yet. His setup is pretty good, and it'll be a hundred times better than what we have managed so far."

I saw the angry look pass across his face. "Bro, that's fucking low. I put a lot of effort into that demo."

"I appreciate that, and I think it's bloody good. Carey will be better again, and at just a grand, it's not going to kill us."

"Whoa, cut it out you two." Saffy hissed. "There's no need for the nasty shit. We are all friends here. We're all doing our best." She gave us both the evils. Softening her stance, she sighed. "Come on, lets remember why we're friends, why we're doing this."

She was right, and I knew it. "I'm sorry, Noah, I wasn't getting at you, I was just a bit pissed when you cut my mate down without even meeting him."

He sighed guiltily. "Yeah, no, you're right, dude, that was out of order. It's me who has to apologise." He glanced back and forth from Saffy to me sheepishly. "I guess that's our first fight."

Saffron giggled. "You think that's a fight? Wow, so delusional dude. This isn't even a disagreement. When Isaac and I fight, we go hard."

He laughed. "Well, I don't like it. You guys have given me a chance to realise my dreams, and I need to be more grateful. I have never felt so at home, or played with people who get me like you guys do. I can be a bit pedantic over some shit, so give me a break."

We had a couple of beers and the mood lightened: we started talking about which songs we would record, and which versions. Most of the songs had a couple of different renditions we were sitting on the fence with. In the end we decided to go with three each of Saffy's, Noah's and mine, leaving it up to each individual to choose.

*****

"Hey, Carey, this is Noah, and of course, you know Saffy," I said, getting the introductions out of the way.

Carey waved us through as he held the door open. We moved into the studio. "Oh shit, bro, this looks good," Noah gushed.

"Oh, hell yeah, oh shit, this is choice," Saffron echoed, her eyes taking in the room, as she walked in behind me.

Carey showed Noah the desk and all the plug ins and ancillary gear. Being a gear nut himself, Noah was quickly enthralled. That left Saffy and me to wander around, look at the instruments.

"Babes, this is so choice, so fucking sweet. You did good, Isaac, real good. Can't believe we got it for just a grand."

"Don't forget we have to play at Colleen's party."

She laughed loudly with a little sarcasm. "Oh yeah, boo-hoo. We were fucking going, anyway."

The setup was good, and we set about a quick rehearsal to get the fingers warm and the voices moving. A couple of beers helped with the lubrication.

As we took a break before starting the first track, Carey stood with us as we had another beer to settle the nerves. "Man, you guys have improved so much. I'm going to enjoy this."

Once we got underway, Saffy came into her own: her voice was crystal clear, with just that little gravelly break-up coming as she reached her peaks. God, I loved her voice at those levels; it meant there was nothing left, she was giving it her all.

Watching her was just as wonderful. When she is totally into it, she moves with a smooth feline grace, swaying and moving, twisting and turning, her eyes closed, her head back singing. Damn, it was a sight to behold. She was a force, a beautiful sexy force.

She was a thing of beauty when she was in the mood. As we worked through the more upbeat songs, she started to dance, to bounce, her arms in the air, her face radiant. I watched Carey as he adjusted the levels; he couldn't take his eyes off her, either. Such was the power of her presence.

The recording went well and the results were outstanding.

Carey dropped off the new album a week or so later. We got some beers, turned the sound up loud and sat back to listen. Saffy jumped out of her seat, she turned to stare at us. "Oh my god, this is surreal. Shit, this is so good. Fuck, I can't believe how good it sounds." She was euphoric.

Noah wasn't far behind her. "Bro, this is fucking excellent. Carey my man, you did good, bro." He turned to me, and we hugged, "Fuck, I take it all back, Isaac, you da man bro, you da man. I shoulda had faith. Damn, I'm sorry I doubted you."

We had several more beers before Carey left, and then we had more beers and sat through the whole album two more times.

"We have got to do something with this, Isaac, it's too good to just sell at gigs, we have to make it pay," Noah said with an intent I hadn't heard before.

"He's right, babe, we have got to get this out there. We have to push it as hard as we can." Saffy said, adding her weight to his statement of intent.

I started to think about what we could do; it came slowly, a hint of a plan. "If we put some money into old Gerty, the tour bus, we could tour. She's still in good nick. Just a few issues. I can do all the work, I just need some money for parts. Maybe five hundy would do it."

"Guys, I have so many pubs and venues crying out for gigs. Some of them are out of town, so I turned them down," she gushed, her excitement clear. "Granted, they're not arenas or big venues, but they're all good earners. Twelve hundred a night, we could do it." Saffy almost shouted, she was so ecstatic.

"Then lets do it," Noah stated loudly. "We are going on tour!"

Saffy jumped into his lap and kissed him with real passion. Before I could complain, she was in my lap and the kiss she gave him paled into insignificance. She wasn't finished, though. She dragged us both up off the sofa into a big group hug. We were like those sports teams you see on TV. We huddled together, our heads touching. "Are we doing this?" she whispered.

"Fuck yeah." Noah yelled echoing her sentiment.

"Well, I'm not staying behind." I chuckled.

As we all stood up, there were more kisses. Saffy spared no passion as she kissed us both. It was passionate, tongue swirling, mouth watering, urgent hungry desire. She didn't even seem embarrassed.

We stood there, our arms still interlinked.

"We're gonna need artwork for the album sleeve," Saffy sighed.

"Yeah, and we'll need a name for it," Noah added quickly.

We tossed around names, and in the end we went with "Three broken lives, live at Carey's."

When I spoke to Carey about the artwork, he had an idea. He showed me a photo he took while we were in the studio, and it was a beautiful shot: Saffron, in full voice, with Noah and I sharing one mic close behind her.

It was beautiful because it captured Saffron when she was at her most powerful, with her eyes closed, her face contorted as she stretched those vocal cords for the next note. He couldn't have been more on the money.

He had a program for album sleeves, and we worked away for an hour or so mocking up a couple. On my way home, I took them into Photoworld and printed some off.

Dinner was already on the table when I walked in. Noah and Saffy already a couple of beers in. I threw them each a copy of the mocked up sleeves. "What'ya think?

Saffy looked up shocked as she saw what it was. "Oh my god, this is amazing. You did this?"

"I had a little help. It was Carey's idea, he took the photo."

"Oh god, Isaac, it's awesome, it looks so professional. I love it." She gushed.

We both turned to Noah who was just staring at it. "Oh hell yeah, I think it's fucking choice, bro. You did it again man. Fucking aced it."

We spent the money and printed off two thousand CDs.