The Book of Dema

CHAPTER FIVE + Green Gardens

His mother hadn't been enthusiastic about losing her craft room in the basement to Tyler's production dreams, especially after he gave her the news that the band had broken up. Since then, he was spending less time down there and more time God only knew. The only information Kelly had been able to gather came from the Shell card. The balance was higher than normal, which Tyler was spending a great deal of time in his car. She worried he was on the edge of a mental breakdown, and while she wanted her room back, she feared the request would push him over the edge. Still, she felt the situation required a conversation. Tyler's father, Chris, had agreed.

They had been both very surprised when he walked in the door with someone new. It was a new drummer, a boy named Josh. Kelly found him respectful and mild mannered. She wasn't crazy about the tattoos and earrings, but this was the music scene. Character was more important than the art. He was easy going and perfectly willing to sit down with her to have a chat over coffee. They had talked for a little more than an hour, but by the time it was over, she felt like something was happening. Afterwards, she patted him on the back and said to him, "Welcome to Tyler's wild world. I hope you have a good grip."

Josh had grinned slyly at her and said in return, "Mrs. J, I'm a drummer. I'm all grip. Tyler and I have places to go. I hope he is ready. I'm not much for sitting around."

"I'm sure you're right, Josh." Let's see what happens, she thought.

The first show they played hadn't gone well. Someone had called the police about the noise, and they were shut down after a single song. Tyler, however, was ecstatic about their pre-show rehearsal. Josh got his rhythm and energy right from the downbeat. He had told her then that he thought this was going to work.

In the weeks after that, Tyler spent days at a time down in his production room. Josh would come by, hand over a few drum tracks he'd recorded wherever he kept his drums, make some suggestions about songs' tempos, and gradually something new was beginning to emerge. It was one of those days that Kelly realized she hadn't seen Tyler in nearly three days. She tried not to disturb him during these creative bursts, but on this day, she felt the pressing need to make sure he wasn't passed out on the floor.

Kelly made a turkey sandwich for him, with the swiss cheese, bread and butter pickles and yellow mustard he liked and then eased open the door. The basement below was quiet. She stepped gingerly down the stairs. They didn't creak, but you could never be sure what sound could wreck a recording session. At the bottom, she could see the light under his door. The recording sign he had affixed next to the door was off, so she quietly knocked. No response.

Easing the handle around with her free hand, she slowly opened the door and looked inside. Tyler was wearing his headphones and had Logic Pro open on his computer. The equalizer's waveform screen was active. He was listening to something. His head was on his arm, and both were pressed down on the computer keyboard. The letter 'l' was shooting across the screen. That suggested he might be asleep.

His workstation was towards the back of the room with a big monitor up on the wall. There was room between it and the workstation for him to play the piano they had managed to move down there or one of the other instruments he was working on. She wove her way through a pile of gear and cables, balancing the sandwich plate and bottle of water in her hands, to where he sat hunched over, facing her direction.

Kelly set the plate down and gently ran her hand over his head. His eyes flickered, and he asked, "Did you find him yet?"

It was the day, so the question did not surprise her, but it pushed the sad back up from that place below her heart where she could control the emotion.

"No dear. Same as always," She said to him.

"Hmm. I haven't seen him in a while," he murmured back to her.