|
"And if that mockingbird don't sing..."
"May I sit down?" a heavy-set, slightly balding man asked as he
proceeded to seat himself regardless of the reply, setting a
briefcase down on the floor beside him.
"Knock yourself out" replied the young woman. "There's alot of
tables around, any reason you choose to grace me with your presence?"
she asked sarcastically.
"Indeed there is, two reasons actually. One is to compliment you
on your singing and performance on stage this evening. You are quite
talented, you could go far. The second is to ask a simple question."
he paused and looked at her for a reaction.
"I'm glad that you enjoyed it, singing is my life, I enjoy it more
than anything. But right now, unfortunately, it doesn't pay the bills.
So what's the question? You want to hire the band for an event or
something?"
He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh, as if to
wonder if asking was such a good idea or not. He leaned forward
and asked, "Would you sell your soul for a million dollars?"
The young girl laughed out loud. "I suppose you're the devil and I
sign somewhere in blood and then you come for my soul a week after I get
the dough?"
The man did not laugh nor react in any obvious way, "You see, I'm
quite serious, I am a prince and have money, a lot of money, and I
like to 'share', so-to-speak. But, in the same sense, I can't see just
giving it away for nothing, so I buy souls. I have a piece of paper
saying I own your soul and you have a million dollars. Seems fair
enough does it not?"
She realized that he was quite serious in his offer. She could
sure as hell use a million dollars, she could record her own music
and not have to get a label to sign her.
She took a sip of her coffee and looked at the man. He didn't seem to
look like some lunatic or the likes. He kinda reminded her of an uncle
she liked. "This isn't a joke? You're actually asking to buy my soul
aren't you?" she asked, thinking that she has read about some very
wealthy people being quite eccentric, especially with their money,
maybe he was one of those and this is some amusement to him.
"Yes, I am. I like to travel alot, so you'll have to let me know now
and we can take care of this immediately." he replied flatly.
She tossed her arms out and replied, "Why not? I've got nothing to lose,
this'll be fun! Especially if the bank actually cashes the check."
She leaned back smiling, half in disbelief that this was for real and
the other half that she may actually get a million bucks.
The man pulled out a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket and
placed it unfolded on the table. "You sign here at the bottom, saying
ofcourse, you are recieving the money in exchange for your soul."
He picked up his briefcase and opened it getting out a money order
for a million dollars. He closed the briefcase and waited for the
young woman to sign.
"You know, I don't believe in all of this, but it is kinda creepy."
she said as she signed the bill of sale. She slid the paper over to
the man and took the money order from him.
He smiled and reached out to shake her hand, "It was a pleasure
doing business with you."
She shook his hand and laughed lightly, "It'll be a pleasure for me
after I go to the bank."
-----------
A month passed and the now wealthy young woman had settled into a house,
and purchased studio time to record her album. She made her way to the
studio where the band was setting up for their first session.
Instruments were being put in their respective areas and the crew was
almost ready. The young girl headed into the sound booth to check on the
layout and space of the area. Just as she took a step up to the platform
to check her microphone, she tripped and fell into the mic stand. A
band member quickly came to her aid and helped her up. She took a nasty
fall and the mic stand had struck her diagonally across the throat.
"Are you ok?" the guitarist asked.
"This hurts like hell." she replied rubbing her throat. "Just what I
need", she thought, "a nice whack on the vocal chords on the first day of
recording".
"How do I sound? My throat hurts, but I think it'll be ok to go on with
the show, I can have it checked out later."
By this time the other band members had come over to make sure she
was ok. "You sound good to me, but you'd better have it checked for real.
Don't wanna mess with the pipes ya know?" smiled the drummer.
Several hours later the band finished up a good recording session, with
several songs finished to their liking.
She waited a couple of days to go to the doctor because her throat just
seemed sore, but by then she sounded like she was getting laryngitis.
After examining her, the doctor took her to his office to explain her
treatment.
"Have a seat" he said as he sat himself down at his desk. "The
laryngitis you are seeing now is a symptom from your injury. Normally, I
would tell you to take a couple of weeks rest, drinking plenty of fluids.
But I'm not getting normal movement in the cords. I would like to take
some more tests to see if you have vocal cord motion impairment. You may
have injured the nerves. If so, we need to see the extent of the injury."
The young girl sat quietly, but with increasing worry. She finished up
with the doctor and scheduled the tests.
A week later the doctor confirmed that the young woman had severely
damaged the nerves in her vocal cords and needed surgery. There was
no guarantee that she would regain her true voice back.
A young women walks across the room and goes to her opened window. She
opens her mouth to scream, but can't. She drops to the floor and begins
to sob.
-----------
In another state there is a gallery opening, featuring a rising young
artist. A heavy-set, slightly balding man goes up to the artist after the
show starts dying down. "I would like to compliment you on your painting
and congradulate you on such a fine show. You are very talented, you
could go far."
"Thanks! I'm quite happy with the turn out tonite, I sold a few of my paintings
but we all know an artist doesnt make the good money till he's dead." the artist
said laughing.
"You'd like to have money then?" the man said rubbing his chin as if in
comtemplation. "Would you sell your soul for a million dollars?" he asked
smiling.
The young artist laughed outloud......
© R.Lore
|