Page 11 of Sing Your Secrets
four
Miles
“You guys are lucky,” the inspector says. He takes in a panoramic view of The Garage and clicks his jaw. “Most of your damage is cosmetic.” He pats the wall beside him. “She’s in great shape. I’m not supposed to say this until I write up an official report, but a little cleaning, some paint, and she’ll be ready to go.”
That might be an exaggeration. There is most definitely a family of rats using the standing water in the toilets as a disgusting spa resort. But as far as the big issues—structural, mold, foundation—it seems like things are in our favor. It’s apparent the inspector was expecting a lot more work. He’s in full coveralls and has a hard hat tucked under his right arm. The notes he scribbled on his clipboard barely take up half a page. All Law and I see are checkmarks in the row of boxes marked good condition.
“I did not see that coming.” Law lets out a low whistle. The floor of The Garage is a mess and his shiny dress shoes are dusty from the grime of the filthy concrete floor. “I thought we’d be looking at a year of work, at least.”
The inspector shrugs. “I guess it depends on how slow you paint,” he says with a raspy chuckle—the kind you get when you smoke a pack a day. “I would get started on that liquor license though. Without a decent bar, a venue like this won’t turn much of a profit. I’ve got a buddy on the liquor license board and I know for a fact they are backed up with applications right now.”
“Oh, we’re just renovating it. A liquor license is the actual owner’s problem. Hell, they may not need it. This could become a bookstore or a clothing shop for all we know,” Law says, nodding. He extends his hand and the inspector, whose name I can’t remember, takes it eagerly. “I appreciate it. I was worried I bought a flop.”
“No, sir. In fact, we wrapped this up so quickly if you don’t need anything further from me, I might be able to squeeze in a lunch hour today.” He extends his hand to me as well, having the courtesy to include me in the conversation. I’m really just here to watch and take notes on whatever Law needs me to fix up.
“It’s still a big job.” Law walks the left perimeter of the venue. With his foot, he nudges a crusty looking box that’s filled with cords and what looks like pieces of an old amp. “Even if it’s cosmetic, it’s a lot of work. The bathrooms still have to be stripped and redone. We have to decide if the kitchen should be remodeled or gutted. Hmm, a quality kitchen keeps this an option for restaurant buyers…that could be lucrative. In fact, maybe we expand the back space to leave room for a full-service kitchen?”
Sitting on the edge of the grimy stage, I swing my legs over and walk the length of the wooden floor, making note of all the uneven areas. It’s not safe for a performer and needs to be stripped. Actually, all the floors need to be stripped.
“Law, I’m telling you, this place was, and always will be The Garage. There’s someone out there who wants this place for exactly what it is. We should sell it as such. This place brought people together and made dreams come true…I can’t stand the idea of it being a…Chili’s or a bookstore.”
What the hell kind of bookstore could fill this square footage?
Law grumbles under his breath. “Let’s say I trust you…can you honestly restore this as a music venue by yourself? I trusted you with a gut job, but doing the plumbing, electric, the whole nine—it’s a lot. Selling this as a market ready venue is different than selling a shell of a property.”
Law’s right. It’s a huge job. If I do all this myself, it really will take me a year to paint.
“You should call my dad,” I say from the stage. I barely form the words, but from up here, my words echo out to Law who is clear across the main floor. He paces toward me, eyes looking up at the precariously dangling overhead lights. He needs to step to his right before it’s death by stage light in the filthy music venue.
“You should call your dad,” Law says with a pained half-smile.
Running my hands over my face, I realize my facial hair is growing faster than I thought possible. I’m growing it out as a temporary act of rebellion. I had a label tell me my best bet was to emulate Shawn Mendes or Jake Miller, but since at the moment I no longer need to look like I’m trying to join the Backstreet Boys, I’m embracing the full beard.
“My parents don’t know I’m back.”
“I figured as much. Seems like a good time to tell him.”
Groaning, I plant myself on the edge of the stage, letting my legs dangle off the side. “Dad would probably rather hear from you. Don’t you guys still golf together?”
Law scratches his head. “We mostly just stand by the golf cart and drink beer. We’re both terrible at the game.”
“Then why play?”
“Because it’s what you do when you’re middle-aged and have extra money you don’t know what to do with.” Law scoffs. “You’ll see one day.”
No, I’m pretty sure I’d know what to do with my money.I’d pay off my massive debt. “Either way, you guys speak the same language. He’d probably send out his guys for free. They’d have this place fixed for you in less than a month.”
“Fuck!” Law squeals like a little girl and leaps back with the strength of a gazelle when what looks like a roach on steroids creeps over his foot. I snort to myself. “All right,” he says clearing his throat, trying to sidestep the less-than-masculine moment that I will be giving him a lot of shit about in the future. “What’s the deal with your dad? Ray is the nicest guy. What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of him,” I mumble. “I’m afraid of disappointing him.”
“What’s disappointing?”
Staring over Law’s shoulder at the giant broken neon sign that reads The Garage, I avoid his gaze as I admit the truth. “Dad thought dropping out of college was a terrible idea. He told me I was throwing my future away. But my heart was in music, and I knew I could sing. I told him I wanted to move to L.A. and devote everything to becoming a big deal recording artist and performer. He didn’t yell or laugh in my face. Guess what he did.”
“What?”
“He gave me the keys to his old Jeep. He said L.A. was expensive and I shouldn’t go out there with a car payment. Then, he put a couple grand in my bank account and told me I was talented and he couldn’t wait to see what I’d make of myself.”