------
Finally our band had its first paying
gig and I slid into the costume then stood up to let it drop down to
seat itself. I strapped on wrist braces to hold the wings off my
hands enough to play then the tech worked the guitar over the head of
the raven costume. Three years I had played without any costume for
nothing except for occasional studio gigs, but finally Vladov, Yuri,
and I created Quoth the Raven and after four months of playing in
parks and wherever people might here somebody got interested in a
trio playing music in bird costumes.
I walked onto the stage and the bar
was packed, but mostly with drunks, not with the kind of person who
seemed like they would be interested in our music. Vladov sat down at
his drums while Yuri went to the microphone with his bass slung low.
“We are Quoth the Raven, and this is
The Murder.”
Vladov
started off with a slow beat, but as he slammed hard on the bass drum
I started thrashing out the chords on my guitar. It was a sonic wave
and it woke up even the hardcore drinkers from their stupor. An old
lady looked up at the stage from her nearly empty glass and screamed.
She threw her seat to the ground and charged at the stage, more
specifically me. She screamed about the giant birds as she she dove
into my legs. I shifted my balance to stay on my feet, but beyond
that I had no clue what to do. The costume made playing guitar hard
let alone doing anything else, and I didn't want to hit this lady.
Vladov pounded away on the drums apparently unaware of the lady's
attack, but Yuri had stopped playing and was just laughing.
His
mirth was cut short when one of the other patrons shattered a chair
over the back of his head and sent him sprawling to the stage. Vladov
stopped playing, stood up, and with his costume got tangled up in the
drum set and fell down with a clatter. I turned to the left and saw
another guy coming toward the stage and I took a punch to the face,
the costume providing some padding, but the mask got turned around
and left me blind. I staggered, but with the lady holding onto my
legs I fell to the stage. I felt more kicks and stomps to my body
with slightly more cushioning as the suit was thicker in that area
before I finally started to hear the sirens of police cars. Normally
that meant time to flee before they broke up our sidewalk
performance, but this time it meant safety.
The
beating slowed as the sirens drew nearer, but it didn't stop until
the sirens had finished their approach. Somebody hauled me to my feet
and tugged the mask around until I could see out of it again.
“Looks
like you boys can't run away from us this time.”
“We
were supposed to play here,” I said.
“Did
they want you to start a riot?”
“Probably
not, but I didn't ask,” Yuri said.
The
pithy response got him a police baton to the midsection and he
doubled over gasping for breath. The cops pulled us out of the club
with the drunk lady still screaming about the giant birds attacking.
Afterward came a bunch of the assailants. Thankfully the band got our
own paddy wagon to the station, and I knew this was the final time I
was going to play music in a bird suit.
