trans_9 | Second Life -- Welcome to Fairplay [Stage 1]

McCrimmon Music was a tiny little shop, tucked in so that you would almost miss it if you walked on by. Only the large harp on the sign outside saved it from being swallowed up entirely by the other shops on Main Street.

Inside, it was a fairly cozy little place, with various instruments hung up for display on the walls and a small area for people to sit and try them out. Jamie worked here with his father, Donald. Well...at least he did when Donald actually bothered to show his face in the main part of the store. Most of the time, his father stayed in the back room, letting Jamie deal with the day to day running of the shop.

This, unfortunately, included trying to handle the books and try and juggle things to keep the bills paid. It seemed every day it was getting harder and harder to do that, and Jamie found himself staring down at a stack of paperwork that all seemed to say the same thing. Past due. Remit payment immediately. Final Warning.

Maybe today would be one of the okay days, though. One where he could sell something, and use the money to stretch things out just a little longer. It would all depend on who happened to wander by.

There weren't any students today and nobody had called Jono to sub. Which meant that when he wanted to get out of the house, he went straight to the music shop. He had a few things that he needed that he knew the McCrimmons would have. It was just unfortunate that there wasn't more he needed. He liked Jamie, after all, and he wanted to help.

He pushed the door open, leaning heavier against his cane for the long walk from his home. "Hullo?" he called, moving into the shop enough to let the door shut behind him.

Lost in contemplation of the paperwork set before him, Jamie didn't hear the door open. It was only when Jono called out that he realized that there was, in fact, a customer. One of his very few regulars, actually, and one that Jamie liked.

He shoved the bills back into their folder and placed it underneath the counter, giving Jono a nod of greeting. "Jono! I'd not expected ye today. Come in. Can I get ye some tea?"

There was a small hot plate in the back room, used to heat up water or the occasional pan of soup. It was cold enough this time of year that he usually had a kettle ready to go, and from the way Jono was leaning on his cane, it looked like he could use something warm to drink.

"Slow day all 'round, mate." Jono made his way forward, looking around. "An' I'd never turn down a cuppa." He tended to bring a box of tea bags from time to time. It was a little something that Jamie didn't object to, at least.

He walked over to the counter, standing slightly hip shot to keep weight off the weakened leg. "School hols coming up. Ain't got much in the way of tutoring t' do at the moment."

"Aye, it is," Jamie said ruefully. "Let me put the kettle on."

He disappeared through the curtain that separated the two rooms, and for a few minutes it was quiet. The silence was broken, however, by a voice not belonging to Jamie.

"What are you doing, boy?"

Jamie's reply was softer, but still some words could be picked out - 'kettle' and 'tea', and 'Jono'. The second voice replied with the same volume as before, some of the words sounding just a touch slurred.

"You mean to say you're wasting time entertaining your friend when you should be working on bringing in money? This place doesn't run itself, you know."

"Aye, father, but..."

"Don't you 'Aye, father' me, James. I've told you before not to use that word. Now, I'm off to pick up my...medicine. Make sure your friend buys something."

"Aye...I mean, Yes, father."

There was a whistling noise as the kettle came to a boil, and the beefy figure of Donald McCrimmon came out of the back room. He fixed bloodshot eyes on Jono and greeted him with a 'Mm.' before exiting the store. Jamie came out a few moments later with a rather disgruntled expression on his face, setting a mug with a slightly chipped handle down on the counter before going back behind the counter, pulling out a stool and bringing it around for Jono to sit on.

"Sorry about that. I'd not meant to wake him up."

Jono did his best to ignore the other man's voice, lips twisting up in a grimace at the way he talked to his son. His parents hadn't always been perfect, but they'd been a damned sight better than Donald McCrimmon.

He flipped the Vs at the man's retreating back before scratching his nose to hide it when Jamie came out. Like the man or not, Donald was his friend's father. "Eh. If he's gonna be snorin' like a bear in the back room, pro'ly best if he heads out fer a bit. Keep 'im from scarin' off the customers." It was just like the man to forget that Jono was one of the few professional musicians in town and that he often did buy things from the shop. Then again, he doubted Donald knew much about what went on in the shop to begin with.

There had been a time when Donald had been tolerable, before Jamie's mother died and they came to the States. Even after that, briefly, once Donald had re-married. But then the business started having problems, and Donald had started relying more and more on his 'medicine', which usually came in the form of a whiskey bottle. But the townsfolk frowned on such things, and Donald kept it well hidden. Jamie tried to keep it hidden too, but he had no idea how much Jono had picked up on, since he was in so often.

"Aye," Jamie said - quite deliberately. He didn't care for the fact that his father was so bent on fitting in that he had stopped using words that he had previously spoken all the time. What was so wrong with being proud of where he came from? "He'll have forgotten by the time he comes back, anyway."

Ducking into the back room for a moment, he brought out his own mug, which was in worse shape than the one he offered Jono. "So have ye been able to get any one who wants ye to play for them for the holidays yet?"

Edited 2010-12-14 23:40 (UTC)

Honestly, Jono didn't understand how he picked up on so many things that other people missed. Maybe he just wasn't used to ignoring them the same way that the rest of the town did. He'd always been a good judge of character.

He nodded, waiting for Jamie to come back before saying anything. "'M playin' backup fer a couple bands in the city. Small gigs, but they can fin' someone else if they gotta, too." Since Jono couldn't tell from day to day what sort of shape he might be in. That was one of the main things he hated about whatever neurological issue he'd presented with. "Also playing accompaniment fer the high school chorus. Fer as much good as it does, since half of 'em couldn' carry a tune in a bucket."

"Aye, but does that really matter?" Jamie asked. "I thought ye only signed up for chorus anyway if ye wanted to get out of classes, and the actually being able to sing part was optional." He's kidding, mostly.

"I'm glad you've got some work lined up, though." He knows that it's iffy, given Jono's illness, but he's hoping at least he'll be able to make it to a few gigs. "Besides, one of us should be able to get the chance to play sometimes." Jamie used to, before he had wound up having to shoulder most of the burden of running the shop. Now, the closest he came to that were demonstrations to try and get people to buy instruments.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, sounding momentarily hopeful as something occurred to him. "Maybe if my plan works, we'll be able to afford to close the store early one night and I can come see ye."

Jono wrinkled his nose. "Aye, suppose maybe. But it gets kin'a painful t' hear that many people on completely different notes." Especially when you knew music. "I've had the choral classes before when I sub. I don' wanna say they're hopeless, but..." They were high school students going for an easy A. They didn't really care about the music.

He turned, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? An' what sorta plan is 'at?" Because he was truly interested in Jamie's idea and seeing if he could help. "Do got a couple gigs in town, too. If 'at's easier fer you."

Jamie nods in agreement. "They've not got a passion for it." All joking aside, he's seen some of that as well. For every student who does play for the love of music, there's a handful who are in it because they want that easy grade, or because their parents want them to perform. Those students don't really care. And when they come into the shop to buy their instruments...Jamie can tell.

"I don't think I could do what ye do, Jono." He's got a lot of respect for the man for being willing to at least try to teach them. Jamie doubts he would have the patience. He took a sip from his mug.

"Mm. Oh. Aye. The idea. I was thinking of having a wee contest for the holidays. One where ye can maybe win a shopping spree." Somewhat like a Walk the Village promotion, where you fill out entry forms at the shops you visit, and have a chance to get a prize. "Maybe see if we can bring in a few new faces along the way."

He smiles a bit, although it's very tired looking. "I may take ye up on seeing ye here if that doesn't work. I'd not mind getting out to the city if I could, though."

So can Jono. He also knew which families were more well off than others. When those students came in, he tended to steer them toward the higher end stuff when he was there to offer an opinion. It would still end up sounding just as bad, but the extra money helped the shop. Frankly, that was all Jono cared about. Students that did love the music, though, he tended to steer toward what would give them the best performance for what they could afford. When he was in. Which wasn't as often as he'd like since winter started.

He shrugged, leaning against the counter a bit so that he could hold his cup and not need the cane at the same time. "Jamie, mate. There are days I dunno how I do what I do." Offered with a wry eyebrow and a shake of his head as he took a sip.

"No reason you can't do both," Jono replied, holding the cup in both hands to warm his fingers. The weather got to him more than he tended to say. "An' soun's like a real good idea. Get foot traffic in, at least. "Take a dollar or so per ticket t' help offset the shopping spree money. Or give the ticket when a purchase is made. Anyway, if yer able t' make it to the city, could probably use someone t' make sure I can get home at the end of the night." He had a car and could drive. But playing wiped him out too often these days. And it gave Jamie a way to get to the city without having to pay his own way while offering him a chance to do something to 'pay' for the ride of he needed.

Jono had been around far too many proud musicians in his time. He knew ways to work around them.

It'd be difficult not to notice the effect Jono's had on sales. When he's there, things that Jamie would otherwise have difficulty selling seem to be snapped up. It makes Jamie's father happy - well, as happy as Donald ever tended to get. He never seems to realize who their benefactor is.

Stretching out his foot, Jamie pushed the stool he had pulled out earlier a little closer to Jono, just in case his friend hadn't noticed it before. "Aye, that might work either way. If someone's just browsing but wants to enter then they can pay, or they would get the entry free when they bought something. I'll have to mention it to the others and see what they think."

It's a good idea, and he just hopes the other shopkeepers are willing to go in on it. Jono's offer is also good - although Jamie knows full well that there's more to it than simply being there in case Jono needed help getting back. Jamie's not a good driver at all. There's always been this strange disconnect for him when it comes to operating a lot of machinery. But if Jono doesn't mind that it'll be a rough trip back, Jamie's definitely willing to go.

"Aye, I could do that for ye. I'd not want ye to have try and make it back by yourself in this weather." He takes another sip from his tea, and then makes a small noise. "Mm. That reminds me. We got another shipment of those Godin strings in, if ye need any."

Jono had missed the stool, which he took gratefully now. It meant he could rest his legs, especially the one that was doing most of the work at the moment. "With any luck, they'll see the sense in it." With luck, though he wasn't positive. Some of the other store owners in town weren't so hot on helping other people out. Nothing too overt, but they tended to be kind of weird about a lot of things.

He perked up at the mention of the strings. "Been meanin' t' restring me main guitar fer a while now," he admitted. "Bloody strings get temperamental in the current weather an' all. 'S a pain in the bum, really, but 's gotta be done sometimes." And as much of a pain as it might be, Jono loved his guitar.

Jamie had his doubts as well. Even though the idea would benefit all of them, he could almost anticipate only a handful of the owners being interested - not enough to get the idea to work. Unless, of course, he could talk Donald around. It seemed like he had been accepted by the others much easier. Maybe it was because his father was able to change to match the unspoken rules of the town, whereas Jamie...well, Jamie's never quite been able to do so to everyone's satisfaction.

"With this weather, I'd not be surprised if the strings froze solid one day. I'll get ye one from the back in a..." He trailed off as his eye caught a glimpse of the digital clock on the wall. It was something Donald had gotten as a gift when he opened the store, with an unholy conglomeration of a a moose, a Les Paul guitar, and eagle wings serving as the backdrop for the timepiece. Donald loved it. Jamie thought it was hideous, but it kept time well enough.

Usually, that is. As he watched, the numbers started going backwards - slowly at first, then faster and faster. Startled, Jamie blinked and turned back towards Jono, pointing at the wall as if not quite believing what he's seeing.

"Hey, Jono, would ye look at that!"

Jono didn't exactly fit in, either. He just had a silver enough tongue to make others accept him, but that was different from really being part of the town. If anybody asked, he blamed it on his accent. But he wasn't really a fan of the unwritten rules, either.

He nodded along with Jamie, then paused when the young Scot paused and asked him to look at something. He turned, watching the clock for a moment with a look of astonishment. "Gordon Bennet," he muttered, fascinated and repulsed at the same time. "What the bleedin'--"

He trailed off as his hands started shaking, feeling a bit light-headed and his face going absolutely pale. Which wasn't a good sign, even if the clock was doing stupid things. They were symptoms that he knew, though, and he had enough control to get the cup onto the counter. It was better than spilling it with an attack looming. "Jamie," he managed, getting to his feet so he could lean on the counter. "I need...floor." He needed a controlled fall before gravity and the fit took care of the consideration for him.

"Hey?" Jamie turned toward Jono as he trailed off, the confusion on his face giving way to alarm as he saw how pale his friend had become. "Jono!" Swiftly setting his mug down, Jamie ran out from behind the counter, bringing his hands up to steady the other man.

The question was, had he been fast enough? Jamie was quick on his feet, but the onset of the attack was rather sudden. He'd just have to hope that his attempt to direct that fall the musician needed would work. There was a rug there, and Jamie aimed for that. If he had to, though, he would put himself between Jono and the floor by any means possible.

He held on until Jamie was there to steady him, then started to kneel. Unfortunately, he was only about half way down with the attack started in earnest, dropping him all the way before he pitched forward onto the rug.

There wasn't a need to worry about seizures, at least. That had been one of the problems ruled out early on, along with MS. It was just that, when the attacks would hit, Jono completely lost consciousness. He usually had enough warning to get somewhere safer, but a stool wasn't the best spot to 'faint' from.

This time, though, there were other things. For a moment, it would look like Jono had completely stopped breathing and, if Jamie checked, there would be no pulse. Only for a few moments, though, before they resumed, like they had never stopped in the first place.

Most of the floor was covered with the thin, ugly carpet that came with the place when Donald rented it. The only reason the rug was there in the first place is because that particular part had a great whopping hole in it. Jamie was just grateful it was there to help cushion the fall - and that Jono had made it as far as he did before he dropped.

As he went to see if Jono was okay, he did notice that he didn't seem to be breathing. With a growing sense of panic, Jamie tried to find a pulse. When he failed at that too, he frantically started looking around to see if he could find the phone to call 911.

He hadn't spotted it when Jono resumed breathing. He checked for the pulse again, and this time found it. Jamie let out a sigh of relief, then went to gently shake his friend. He has no idea if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but if Jono can wake up on his own, that's certainly much better.

"Jono? Jono, can ye hear me?"

Jono was still for a few breaths longer before he groaned, shuddering as he pried his eyes open again. "Can 'ear you," he confirmed, blinking a few times. "Fuckin' 'ell, hate it when that happens." He didn't get attacks like this very often these days, but it was never a fun thing.

It took another few moments before he pushed himself onto his back, staring up at the ceiling before looking at Jamie. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome," Jamie replied. After another second or two, he went to get a glass of water, and came back with it - and the cordless phone, which had been by the sink.

"Look, do ye want me to call an ambulance?" he asked - a worried look on his face. Jono seems okay now, but he doesn't recall his friend having actually stopped breathing before.

Jono shakes his head, pushing himself up to sit more properly. It's not exactly easy, but it's better than laying about on the floor. This way, he at least feels more like it wasn't that bad.

He takes the glass, hands shaking a little bit but Jono gets a sip or two down before shaking his head. "No need fer 'at. Wasn' even 'at bad an attack. Jus' with the clock playin' silly buggers, feels worse, I guess."

Well, he is looking better - at least, to Jamie, who's not the best judge of these sorts of things. Still, he hesitated a moment before setting the phone back down.

"Aye, I suppose," he said uncertainly. "It's just I thought...och, never mind. Maybe I was imagining things."

A glance back at the clock showed that it was back to normal. Just like the last time.

"Like with the clock. But...ye saw something too?"

It's almost like he never stopped breathing at all. Jono rubbed at his forehead, looking up at the clock. At least it had stopped doing stupid things, near as he could tell. "Yeah, I saw somethin'. It...was goin' backwards, wasn' it?" Which didn't make a lick of sense. "If you hadn' saw it too, I'd've jus' put it down t' the attack makin' me see things."

If the attack happened again, Jamie knew where the phone was, at least. He moved back to the counter, picked up his forgotten tea and took a sip, then made a face. It never tasted the same once the tea had gone cold.

Setting the mug back down, he nodded. "Aye, it was...and not for the first time. I went over to the bakery earlier and one of the clocks on the street did the same thing." He thought maybe he had been seeing things, but clearly that's not the case. Well, unless they were both going mad at the same time, which he wouldn't entirely be surprised if that was the case.

"What do ye think it means, Jono?"

Second Life -- Welcome to Fairplay [Stage 1]

Location: McCrimmon Music Shop

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Sorry. Yuletide ate me.

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