Things looked brighter in the morning, as they usually do. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains and a bird chirped out the window as the boys scrounged some breakfast and planned for the day.
"Reggie's right about your clothes," said Mac to Anthony.
"What's wrong with my clothes?" countered Anthony.
"Well." Mac gestured. "They're fine enough I suppose, but a little outdated. That striped sweater and pleated slacks combo you're wearin' now, f'r instance."
"My mum bought me these clothes," said Anthony, his voice catching a little. He swallowed hard, then composed himself.
"And tha's fine," said Mac, "for the 1960s. But Wizard fashion is a little behind Muggle fashion."
"That's true," Bertram broke in. "And there's your robe. Looks like you're wearing a cloak or something, like you just stepped out of the Hobbit."
"All right all right," relented Anthony. "I get the point. We'll find some new clothes. We also need a way of making money. Wait a moment…" He dug around in his pack and all the pockets of his pants. "That shop owner where I bought the drums gave me a card…ah! Found it!"
He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and carefully unfolded it.
"This is a place that hosts new bands," he continued.
"That's right!" said Mac. "I remember now. So we can check them out, too, see what they can do fer us. Go ahead, Bertram, dial Reggie's number! Let's get started!"
Bertram took out the number, paused for a second, then dialed.
"Yeah, it's Bertram, from yesterday… um, my friends and I wanted to take you up on that tour…oh you did…yeah, that would be nice, ok…an hour? Ok, we'll be there. Thanks! See you then. Bye."
Bertram hung up, looking a little breathless.
"You all right, mate?" asked Anthony.
"I'm fine, we're meeting him in an hour." Bertram replied.
"Naw, summat's up and it's been up since yesterday," said Mac. "Is it abou' Reggie? He seemed like a nice bloke ta me."
Bertram started to protest, then hesitated. "You'll think it's weird," he said.
"Out with it," said Anthony. "I told you about my visions."
"Yeah, ok," said Bertram. "He wants to hang out with me later. Just me. Like a date."
Realization dawned on Anthony and Mac.
Anthony mulled over the information. He'd had a cousin who lived with a roommate for a while. They were both really nice. And after all, he had visions, that was definitely not normal. Suddenly he laughed.
"No girls looked interesting for the Yule Ball," he said. "No wonder! It's all right with me, who am I to say what's normal and what isn't?"
"We're all a bunch of oddballs," said Mac. "You're still our friend and nothin' will change that. And don' worry, we won' tell anyone, I know it's illegal to be.." he gestured toward Bertram. "Y'know."
Bertram breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, guys," he said. "We'd better head down there. Everyone got everything? All right."
When the boys got off the bus, their first stop was a clothing store. Anthony looked around dubiously. "This is Muggle fashion?" he asked.
"Leave it ta me," Mac said. He went from rack to rack, adding clothes to a growing pile in Anthony's arms. "Try these for a start," Mac said, "and I'll keep looking."
Anthony looked at the T-shirts, ripped jeans, and leather jackets in the fitting room. He finally chose a faded pair of jeans with not too many holes and a T-shirt that said Generation X. He stashed his wand in his back pocket and walked out, feeling foolish.
"Ya look great!" Mac reassured him, as Bertram nodded in agreement.
An hour later, with their wallets a little lighter, the boys walked over to the music store where Reggie was waiting for them.
"All right, look at you!" he said as he saw Anthony. "Now you look like one of us! C'mon, there's lots of places I want to show you and I have a special surprise tonight." He turned the sign on the door to Closed and they set off.
Wandering King's Rd was completely different with someone in the know. He showed them all kinds of secret spots, underground music stores and venues. "That there," he said, pointing to a building emblazoned with a swan, "is a record company owned by Led Zeppelin themselves." He seemed to know everyone and they stopped to talk to several people.
And the girls! Maybe it was the new clothes or just being around someone like Reggie, but girls noticed Anthony a lot more than wizard girls ever had. He exchanged several smiles with what Reggie termed "stone foxes," although Mac himself didn't seem much interested in anything beyond looking.
They ate at a pub for lunch. It was a hole in the wall, but it turned out to have great food. Between mouthfuls of greasy hamburger, Anthony asked, "I have this card for a venue that takes new bands. Know anything about it?"
"Let me see," Reggie replied, taking the card. "Yeah, I know them! Good guys, they've discovered lots of bands. Elvis Costello played there, I heard. We'll check them out after lunch."
One bus ride later, the boys nervously entered the club, which was called The Black Light. It smelled like a mixture of cigarette smoke and other things the boys felt they probably didn't want to identify. They found the manager in a tiny office in the back, papers piled up on the desk and floor. The name on the door read "Mr. Gerent." He put out a cigarette as they approached nervously, then lit another one.
"All right, out with it," he said. "Time is money."
"We wanted to play here," said Anthony. "We're a band. Well, not Reggie. But us 3." He gestured to himself and his friends.
"Got a name?" asked Mr. Gerent. His eyes bored through them.
"The Accountants," said Bertram.
The manager grunted. "I've heard worse. You're a little young. We don't do teenybopper pop here. You can take your bubblegum crap and get out."
"It's not pop!" said Mac. "We're rockers. David Bowie is one of the greatest musicians of our time. And no one can beat Neal Peart for drumming, except maybe Richard Allen. And-"
Mr. Gerent cut him off with a wave. "All right, all right, you know your music," he said. "But I still don't know if you're any good."
He held up a finger which silenced the boys as they all started to talk at once and moved a stack of papers to look at a calendar.
"I got an opening to audition in a month," he said.
"A month! But we need money now," said Bertram. Let us play for you today, we're ready."
The manager took his cigarette out of his mouth and put both hands on the table. He gave them a stern, hard look.
"Look kid, I don't care if you're the effin' Queen, you only get one shot with me. If you're really that confident, come back in three weeks. Trust me, you'll want it."
Reggie intervened then. "Thank you," he said, ushering the boys out the door. "They'll be back in three weeks."
"Three weeks," he continued encouragingly once they were outside. "He must like you."
It was then that the real world came crashing down on the trio. They sat down on the curb. Anthony put his head in his hands while Mac groaned loudly.
"Three weeks!" said Bertram. "We don't have enough money for that!"
"It's all right," said Reggie. "You seem like you come from nice families. Go back home and I'm sure you'll find time to prepare for the audition."
"We can't," said Bertram hollowly.
"Me either," said Anthony, "not yet."
"I can," said Mac, "but my friends are here. And family is what you choose."
Reggie looked around at them. "Ah," he said. "I understand completely. I ran away a year ago and never looked back. Some things just can't be tolerated." He absentmindedly put a hand to his cheek. "No matter. You can crash with me and my roommates, they won't mind." He checked his watch. "But first, it's time for that surprise."
He led them down the street to a plain brick building that looked empty. Bypassing the boarded up front door, he walked down the alleyway next to it and opened a door in the building which led down some steps. "Only the real music lovers know about this place," he told them as they stepped inside. "Now that you know, make sure to keep it a secret. We don't want the mainstream to find out about it."
They stepped into a large room with chairs facing a modest stage. A few people were already in the front row, chatting among themselves excitedly. They chose a row close to the stage and waited as more and more people filed in. When the room was almost full, a man stepped on the stage and tapped the mic.
"Ladies and gents, punks and weirdos," he yelled, "I bring you.. The Clash!"
The people roared and clapped as the curtains opened to a band on stage. Everyone got to their feet, clapping along with the music.
"Thank you," the lead singer said. "This is one we're planning on releasing on our next album. It's about all the shit that's been in the papers and how we're not going to take it lying down!"
London calling to the imitation zone
Forget it, brother, you can go it alone
London calling to the zombies of death
Quit holding out and draw another breath
London calling and I don't want to shout
But while we were talking, I saw you nodding out
London calling, see we ain't got no high
Except for that one with the yellowy eye
The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in
Engines stop running, the wheat is growing thin
A nuclear era, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning
and I, I live by the river…
"That was brilliant!" Bertram yelled when it was over.
Reggie smiled. "Sometimes the big bands play here to test out new material," he said. "You want to meet them?"
"Can we?" asked Anthony excitedly.
"Sure," said Reggie. "It's a little more relaxed here than your typical concert. Let's go."
Sure enough, the band was hanging around and talking to a group of people seriously about current events.
"You said some of it was true," said one person. "But I've heard some strange things. People being thrust up in the air with no wires."
"I saw the word Mudblood graffitied on a wall," said another. "Is that a new gang?"
"My mum and dad had rocks thrown through their windows during a protest," said Bertram. "They had to flee the city."
"Look," said one of the band members. "I don't know if it's all true. But all this gloom and doom, all we can do is our best, yeah? Just do what we can and ride it out."
As they left, Anthony turned to look at his friends. "If we want to make that kind of impact," he said, "we have a lot of preparing to do."
"I just hope 3 weeks will be enough," said Mac.
"We'll be all right," said Bertram. "We always are."
Singing bars from London Calling together, they walked out into the night.