Daron's Guitar Chronicles: Vol 4

261 SULTANS OF SWING

I didn't want to contradict him so I just shrugged right back.

"You hungry? We could hit a deli or just do an In-and-Out Burger and take 'em home."

"Those are the burgers that are supposed to actually be good, right? Man, I miss White Castle." I was half pulling his leg there.

"You do not," he said, not falling for it. "You never really liked their burgers and Digger only went through that drive-thru because it was the cheapest thing there was."

"And he really liked it," I said.

"Or at least the girl who ran the drive-thru," Remo added.

"Point. Hey, you don't think he'll be mad that you and I went off without him, do you?" Not that I gave a shit if he did, but it occurred to me to wonder.

"I can see him anytime," Remo pointed out, "since he's on this coast most of the time. I don't get a lot of quality time with you."

"Awww," I said, making fun, but feeling kind of warm and fuzzy at the same time.

"You didn't decide."

"Decide what?"

"Deli or In-and-Out."

"Oh, um, I'm supposed to decide?"

"Who are you, Hamlet?"

"Burger, then, and let's go to your house and play."

"I was hoping you were going to say that."

"You're easy to please, Reem'."

It was maybe an hour later we pulled into his driveway, burgers long since eaten, and we went up to his back deck and sat outside playing together for a while. He'd clearly been doing a lot with folk in his spare time, and we played some Appalachian folk tunes I recognized from a class way back when, tossing the riff back and forth like a game of catch.

It started to feel a little chilly when the wind whipped up, and it wasn't like you can see the stars through the smog anyway, so we went inside after a while. "When'd you start getting into Appalachian folk?" I had to ask, while he got out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses. I sat on a stool at his kitchen counter while he got the glasses down from a cabinet.

"Oh, I'm working on a soundtrack project right now, and thought it'd be the thing." He poured just a splash into each glass. "Turns out it's kind of tricky to score, but I like the sound. Especially the way you play it. I might have to fly you back out here when your tour's done so we can lay down a few tracks."

He handed me a glass and we clinked, which I guess was my way of agreeing to it, and then I took a cautious sip of what he had poured. Huh, good. He knocked his back in one gulp, but like I said it was only a splash. "Does it pay well?"

"Union scale," he said. "Probably only need you for two days, tops."

"No no, I mean composing for soundtracks."

"Well enough. It'd pay better for you, I'd bet, since you can do more of the actual scoring."

"I can?"

"You're the one with the degree in music." He twisted the cork out of the bottle again.

"No, I'm the one with three semesters of music school and no degree," I reminded him. "But, point taken, I probably could." It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed my mind. "I'm sure there's a learning curve."

He looked at me then, his hands stilling in their uncorking. "You're a special player, Daron."

"Playing and composing are two totally different things."