Chapter 2

Both girls hugged me, and Donna kissed me as well. We shut everything down and went back to the other end of the stable, and my living quarters.

Donna stood in the doorway with her mouth agape. “Wow!” she breathed, “This is great, like a penthouse disguised as a hovel.”

“Hey!” Josie exclaimed. “Not so much of this ‘hovel’ stuff, this is all class, and the outside is the look it always had when the horses were here. You wouldn’t have heard them complaining.”

I put the kettle on while Josie took Donna through to the bathroom to freshen up. When they got back, I could see that Donna had been given a quick view of the bedroom and the lowdown on the current situation. Donna wanted to know if she could bring the other girls over to have a session in the studio.

“You’re welcome to bring them here,” I offered. “Anytime I’m not in school.”

Donna was studying medicine and two of the other three girls in the Pixies were doing a beautician course together at one of the trade colleges, while one had graduated this term with a Bachelor of Music degree in Music Composition. We arranged for the following Thursday.
Donna said she could lead the others with their gear. One of the girls had use of a van which would carry the equipment while the other two would be with Donna.

After I’d splashed my face, we took Donna home again, via a little café where we had lunch. I sat in the car while Josie went up to the front door with Donna. I wondered just how I had got to this point, only three days from just existing… to now feeling so alive.

Monday night, we just cuddled in bed and whispered sweet nothings to each other. Tuesday, after the chicks and breakfast, we stripped the bed and remade it. Josie took the sheets and pillowcases into the main house to put through the washing machine while I buzzed around with the vacuum and a soft cloth. After she came back, we went into the studio, and I showed her a few things that we didn’t have a chance to talk about on Monday.

I had put a mounting on the wall by the door which would take a mobile phone and there was an outlet by it. This would let you mount a phone to record what was going on in the room. It featured its own charger, so you didn’t run your phone out of power. I had a laptop computer that I used to store the camera images and could also be used to record the sound. I explained that we could set up a direct feed from the amps through a mixing box and that they could each have a CD to take away with them. It wouldn’t be big-city studio quality, but they could, at least, hear what they sounded like.

She wanted us to play a little, so I made some changes. I set up the mic behind the piano and one in front of her amp. We both had microphones on stands which were also plugged into the amp. That required two inputs into the mixer. After I had set it up and we got a good sound level, I set the computer to record, and I played the piano while she played her guitar. We both sang and spent an hour just jamming along with songs we both knew. I put the recording onto a CD so that we could listen to it in the real world.

We both went over to the house to find that my mother had folded the sheets. She gave us a very bright smile and said that she had made a salad with enough for all of us. When she asked what we had been up to, I put the CD into the player in the kitchen and we sat and ate while listening to what we had put down.

At the end of the hour my mother gave us both big hugs, saying how good we sounded. I was a bit surprised at how we blended our voices. Josie had a stunned look on her face.

Back in my room, she held me close. “Eddie, my sweet, I never realized just how nice my singing voice was and I would never, in a thousand years, have thought that we could sound like we had sung together all our life. I’m happy - but I’m also a little scared that this is all a dream.”

I kissed her and told her that if this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up either.

That afternoon we helped my mother separate those chickens destined for collection and moved the older chicks into the first laying section. I told Josie that the other hens would teach them where to go if they didn’t get it straight away. We then thoroughly cleaned their pen and hosed it out.

In the morning, it would get fresh straw and the truck would bring the boxes of new hatchlings for me to look after. Another one would be taking away the older birds. I explained that during school days I would be doing all this in the evening, but it was nice to get it out of the way so quickly.

That evening, at dinner, Josie asked why we didn’t go with battery hens as it could be easily automated. I could see my father almost ready to argue and cut him off.

“Josie, we came into this from having a few chickens while the rest of the property had various crops, and a few cattle. We also stabled the horses for a local riding club. We never considered a battery set-up because it’s cruel and inhumane. We may send our old chickens off to the fast-food guys before their natural time, but while they’re here they’re our companions on this property, not an egg-laying machine. That’s why we stopped at the size we are now.”

She smiled. “Good answer. I was just testing your level of commitment. I ran the numbers through my head and came to the same conclusion. You’re at the optimum size for your methods and I totally agree with the way you’re doing things. You do realize that if your customer demands more output, you’ll either have to change or sell?”

My father smiled. “Josie, it took us five years to get to this point. It keeps a very nice roof over our heads and allows us to do things we like. If our customers want more, they’re going to have to find someone else. Besides, the state has outlawed battery chickens so we can’t get any bigger than we are now. With some small changes we could look at hydroponic cropping, maybe tomatoes or something else. Well done for coming up with your thoughts. That business course must be good.”

Wednesday, we went into the city. Josie had found that she was low on some of her bathroom supplies, and we also got in some other things for Thursday when the other girls would join us. We had decided that we both needed matching outfits to show the world we were a couple. To make it easier we decided on denim and ended up with new jeans and matching fringed jackets. With my odd-shaped body we could get both our outfits from the girl’s side of the shop. She offered to pay for hers, but I wouldn’t allow her. I wanted to buy her things because she would wear them for me, not as some sign of her power over my wallet.

We had lunch in the city after putting our bags in the car. We then went to a movie and sat in the back stealing the occasional kiss. I was feeling very calm about it all, even if I was moving in a lifetime direction with her. That evening we wore our matching outfits for dinner and my mother smiled a lot. When I asked what the fun was, she told me that we looked like sisters if you discounted my lack of breasts.

She laughed. “Also, that you’re far too ugly to be a girl!”

Josie argued that there was nothing wrong with my taste in clothing, or my looks. That night Josie was the recipient of a good tongue lashing and she loved it. She then returned the favor, and I experienced something that I had never thought I would ever know.

Thursday, I met the rest of the Pixies. Donna drove in first with a van following. She got out of her car and rushed over to give us both a hug.

“Isn’t this exciting?” She then turned to introduce the others.

In the car with her were Emily and Pet, and the van driver was Janet. Emily played keyboard and sometimes bass guitar. Pet was the violin player. Jan was the drummer. She had bought the van when she had a standard set of drums to carry but now used a much more compact electronic set plus cymbals.

They had their own small PA system, so we took that in first and set it up, then arranged the drums and keyboard with the guitarists and singers finding enough room to do their thing. I showed them the mounting on the wall and Donna set up her phone to record the session.

I put out microphones for the singers and ran them to the PA. I then put a mic in front of the PA speaker, the guitar amp, and one which had the drums and keyboard going into it. Lastly, there was a mic next to the normal bits of the drum kit. They jammed for a few minutes while I got the mix right and started the computer to record. I sat back, with my eyes closed, to listen.

Then they started playing their set. As they got used to the surroundings they loosened up and it sounded nice. The drums were just right. I may have played the violin a little differently, but it was all right.

Emily, on the keyboard, was great and a real pillar around which the others could work. They did about a dozen songs before Donna spoke.

“Eddie, would you like to join us?”

I looked at Pet. “If you don’t mind, I also play violin.”

She smiled. “Knock yourself out.”

I added my lead to the others in the amp and got a sound level. When we started playing, I was worried that the two violins would be too much. When Pet saw that I was good she smiled and we started to compete, ending up doing more and more complicated solos and duets whenever we could. All the others carried on but with a bit more verve.

We played for about an hour before Donna called for an end. I put my violin down and stopped the computer. Donna stopped her phone recording, saying that she was going to need to buy bigger chips if we did this more often.

Pet gave me a hug. “That was fantastic. You made me play as if my life depended on it and it was lovely to be free to explore the songs in a new way. Today, I think I’ve learned that I was holding my playing back.”

I cut a CD and took them to the living area where Josie had set out drinks, cake, and cookies. We played some of the CD of the session and I said that I would have a copy for each of them by the time they came back.

“Girls, I would like you to listen to this,” Josie said as she put the CD we had done together into the machine.

After we had listened to a few tracks she ejected the disc to silence.

Donna was the first to get her wits together. “Eddie, how would you like to become a Pixie?”

I was stunned and had to sit down.

She went on. “Just because we’re an all-girl band now it doesn’t mean we have to stay that way. Even the Chicks add a number of guys when they play live. You’ll just need to wear something that blends with us. With your voice, it will open up our repertoire.”

They all looked at me and Josie pleaded. “Please say “yes,” Eddie, I just know that we can make the big time, even if it’s just the local area, and with you added we’re certain to get popular. We can make sure that it doesn’t impede our studies.”

“Eddie, if you step in to play violin more,” Pet added. “I can concentrate more on my writing. We haven’t done any of my songs yet -- but I think that the girls will be brave enough to try them out with the two of us playing as well as we did today.”

I nodded in amazement and ended beneath five girls who all wanted to hug me. Now, that was a very new experience and something I could take any day. They were all, without doubt, lovely and very desirable. We set the days that they could get back here, and they went off, leaving the kit set up.

Over the next week, we were in the studio four times, and I was beginning to blend in with them. One day Josie and I wore our denim with the fringed jackets and the next time they turned up all sporting the same look. Pet came the week after with a CD she had put together with three of her new songs. We worked them to the point where we could fit them into the set.

The following session Donna told us that we had a gig on the Saturday at one of the local ‘cowboy’ bars where they had live music and a little dance floor. She assured us that it wasn’t one of those places where the band has to play behind a wire fence to keep them safe.

We worked hard on a one hour set and then loaded the van with everything that we would need, finishing up in my room for a drink and cookies. I found myself over one side with Pet, who was in the process of writing off to get a permanent position somewhere with an orchestra but was finding it hard going. We spoke about violin players we liked.

The night of the gig at the Chuck Wagon was something I hadn’t experienced before: playing to an audience of strangers. I’d spent most of my musical life playing for my own pleasure and for a recorder. I needn’t have worried because they loved the girls as soon as we set up and got going. Our hour went by, and we walked off stage to cheering and stomping of cowboy boots. The management wanted us to go back on and do a second session and offered a good wad of cash as an inducement.

We started the second session with me and Josie on guitars, singing some of the songs we had done before. One by one the others joined in, and we did some of the songs we had played in the studio. Here, with the atmosphere of smoke and whiskey, they were so much better, and I left the guitar to take up my violin. We finished the night with a batch of four popular songs with Pet and me taking our part to the max and the others doing their best to keep up.

After we had packed up and had been paid, we were asked if we wanted to do the Saturday night every second week for the next three months. Of course, we all said we would. Then we realized that we would need to learn new stuff every gig to add to the really popular songs. It’s only Top Ten stars who play the same old stuff over and over again; the rest of us need to work for our cash.

The girls were all over the moon at getting a regular gig. You can guess their reaction when Donna walked in at the next session and told us that she had been contacted by another promoter who wanted us for the Saturdays in between. This meant that we would have to practice mid-week.

It didn’t matter to Josie and me because all we had to do was walk next door. I wondered if the others would be serious enough about the band to keep coming. I needn’t have worried because everyone turned up early, worked hard and the result was that we got better every time we played.

The second gig turned out to be a western-themed night club called the Dude Ranch which worked just as well as the cowboy place. By the time Josie and I were into the next semester we were playing regularly and doing our duets in both places. One good point about the night club was that they had a piano, and I took advantage of it to add to our sound. We played around with two violins, a keyboard and piano and not having the whole band on stage at any one time. This gave us an edge because you could turn up every week and not hear the same set twice.

We were adding new material by Pet on a regular basis and hardly anyone commented unless they asked what exotic album we had mined for the songs. We all went out one Saturday and shopped for similar outfits. We got jeans and jacket sets in dark denim with fringes and two sets in leather, one red, and the other black.

It was an advantage that I could buy at the same places as the girls, so it was easy to co-ordinate. I could try things on once I got over the fear of being chucked out. Oddly enough, no-one twigged that I was a guy. The worst was when they dragged me into a shoe shop to get boots to go with the outfits.

Josie was settling into life with me and the family. She would help out and was learning the business as fast as she could. One comment that my father had made about hydroponic crops had taken root and she was doing some studies on the setups as a side project. At school we were joined at the hip and at home, more often than not, we were joined in other places.

We didn’t see much of Henrietta because she was in another course, Arts, or something, but when we did see her, she had a scowl on her face, and it looked as if she had not added to her wardrobe lately. Reynard strutted around like he owned the place and, oddly, was hardly ever seen near Henrietta, even though it had become general knowledge that she was now living with him.

Late in September, we were walking back to the stable after breakfast when a strange car came into the yard and stopped.

A big man got out. “Are you Eddie Grosse?”

I smiled, “Yes.”

“My daughter, Henrietta, is pregnant and she told me that you’re the father. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Impossible! We never made out beyond kissing, let alone sex. Where and when did she say this happened?”

He looked a little flustered but no less angry.

“She said it was here. She said that you raped her in the stables. She said that you forced her into a stall and raped her on the straw."

I had to stifle a laugh. Her disgust was now coming back to bite her on the bum.

“Mr Penny, there are no stalls in the stables and certainly no straw. Would you like to inspect my home? I assure you that Henrietta has never been inside this building.”

I led him to the door, opened it and stood back. He went in and looked around.

“There’s been time for you to make some changes.”

“Since when?”

“The night of that end of term party.”

Josie laughed, “That’s rich! Eddie was in the bed here with me and we were making love. Your precious daughter had dumped him and gone home with my ex-boyfriend Reynard, no doubt getting truly screwed by him in his mother’s penthouse. She’s been living with him since that very party.”

He asked for and got the name and address of Reynard. He then got back into his car after muttering an apology for bothering us.

“Hey, Eddie the Egg Man,” Josie laughed. “How about we celebrate your escape from fatherhood by taking me to bed and giving me a good plucking. Who knows, I may hatch.”

I knew she was joking because I saw her take her pills, every day, like clockwork. She wasn’t the sort of person to mess up her schooling by getting pregnant.

The next week at college we found out that Reynard and Henrietta had pulled out of their classes. I silently wished them well but soon had something else to bother me.

Donna announced that she had got us a very good gig at the end of October. The problem for me was that it was a Halloween show and that we would be dressed as witches.

I held my shock as she explained.

“It’s at one of the big dance halls. The promoter has seen us a couple of times at the night club and has offered us a good payment. We’ll go on stage following another band of guys, all dressed as demons. So, we’ll have to be totally opposite, and witches will work well. We’ll be playing from about ten to after midnight so will be on stage for about two hours. We’ll need to be there before eight so we can change without being seen.”

Pet immediately commented that such a set would give us scope to try out something new and I could see where she was going. With her and my classical studies we knew that there were tunes that have a demonic slant.

I said, “Like Danse Macabre or Sorcerer’s Apprentice.”

When she nodded, I then said, “So I’ll be some kind of warlock, then?” and was howled down.

“You’ll be a witch with us,” I was told. “It shouldn’t take much work, not with Donna with medical training and two nearly fully trained beauticians.”

Bewildered at this turn of events, I just shook my confused head. We had a good session playing our usual sort of stuff with Pet and me trying to give it a spooky feel with odd tuning on the violins. After the other girls had left, Josie and I went over to the house for dinner, and she told my mother about our big break. My folks had always known about the Pixies but were amused at the fact that I needed to dress up for a show.

My mother looked into my eyes. “Eddie, this could be a breakthrough event for the Pixies. You should really try your best to make the show memorable. Your father and I may even go. I think I still have the Dracula and Bride of Dracula outfits we wore at the last Halloween party we went to. They may need taking out, though. If it works for the girls, you can always step back after that and play as you’re normally dressed. You already look like a girl when I’ve seen you leave for a show, especially in the slim legged leather outfits and matching boots.”

That evening Josie and my mother hatched a plan to make me appear feminine in every way. The start would be in the evenings for the rest of the week and all weekend, with me having to play at the nightclub dressed in my new persona. I thought that it was a lot of trouble for one show in a long dress and pointy hat.

Perhaps I had seen too many versions of “Hubble, bubble…toil and trouble.” That wasn’t the witch vision that the rest of the girls had in their minds.

By the time I found out what I would look like, it was way too late to back out.

Marianne Gregory © 2022