“Anything?” I asked when she was done.
“You might have a nodule or polyp or something. I’m not getting a good view. But…” She turned away as a device beeped. “Yes, your rapid strep and COVID are both negative, so I’ll put in the referral. You don’t have a primary clinic?”
“No, I just moved here recently.”
“Okay. I think the new clinic that just opened over on Seventh is getting folks in fast. Won’t last, but maybe we can sneak you in. Let me send the request.” She stripped off her gloves and sat at her computer.
I cursed in my head. I’d really wanted this stupid thick feeling in my throat to be strep. Something a week of antibiotics would fix. Every performer dreaded nodules, which meant months of vocal rest and retraining. With Rocktoberfest three weeks away, I couldn’t afford to rest right now. Luckily my voice hadn’t been affected much.
Yet.
She sat back. “Okay, request is in. I used the contact info you gave me. They should be in touch soon.”
“Thanks.” I put my card into the reader to pay for my visit, then pushed to my feet. “Did you see anything visible? Like, how sure are you?”
The nurse practitioner shook her head. “Just a little irregularity, maybe. Enough that you should get it checked out. I marked it urgent for you.”
Urgent? Fuck.“Thank you.”
The bright sun outside didn’t help my mood. Nor did the fact that I’d decided to combine my Klinic visit with my weekly parole meeting. So I went from something that made me gag to… something that made me gag.
Most of the time, Officer Daniels was okay, a bit officious, but quick and professional. But his foot-dragging over Rocktoberfest was driving me crazy. I waited in his outer office while he yelled at someone, the words muffled by the office door but the tone unmistakable.Thanks, whoever, for putting Daniels in a great mood.
After ten minutes, his door swung open and a young white dude in baggy pants and a ripped tank top slouched out. The guy whipped a ball cap out of his pocket, yanked it down backwards on his head, gave me a glare, and strode out. I waited till Daniels called, “Mr. Marsh?”
He looked a little red-faced but otherwise unruffled. Of course, it was hard to ruffle a buzz cut. I didn’t have to pull out the other chair because it was shoved back against the wall. I dragged the chair back into place and sat down.
Daniels clicked on his keyboard. “Right. I’m getting the reports from the nursing homes. You’re completing your hours on schedule. No complaints noted.”
“I hope not.”
“Keeping your nose clean, nothing you’re concerned about?”
I hesitated. “Just the trip to Nevada for the concert. I… other people are involved in this process and I need to let them know.”
Daniels steepled his fingers. “Remind me why you need to go to CaliforniaandNevada?”
“LA is for rehearsals with Chaser Lost, the band I’m guesting with. We’ve played together before, but it’s been a long time. They’re backing me up at the concert, since I don’t have a current band. The organizers are paying me fifty thousand dollars to appear. I need to give them a solid show for that payment, and that means at least some rehearsal.”
“Fifty grand.” Daniels tilted his head. “That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes, sir. Money I’m counting on for living expenses this year, so I can pay off my debt to society as quickly as possible.” Maybe that was laying it on a bit thick, but hopefully it would sound good. With the advantage of being the truth.
“Does every band get that kind of dough?”
I had to laugh. “I’m third tier nowadays. The top bands pull in close to a million for a big outdoor concert, and it goes down from there. I haven’t asked Chaser what they’re getting but half a million wouldn’t be out of range.”
Daniels whistled. “I’m in the wrong business.”
“I’m in the right business and I’m not pulling in that kind of dough.” Anymore. I’d been close, once upon a time, when I shared a bunch of that money with my manager and the label and spent more on a tour I was persuaded to self-back. Lots of hindsight there, but still, I had nothing to complain about. There were incredible musicians who never got their big break.
“Probably lots of booze and drugs, though, right?”
“Sure.” I kept my tone easy, even though his harping on drugs when I’d been clean throughout this mess bugged me. “Doesn’t mean I’ll have a problem, though. Hell, look at Axel Townsend of Grindstone. He admits he had huge problems with alcohol and hard drugs years ago, did rehab and all? He was at Rocktoberfestlast year, and he’s still clean and sober, playing again this year. I’ve never had that kind of problem, and I won’t now.”
Daniels nodded slowly. “All right. I’m signing off on this trip for you, since it’s work related. One travel day on each end, like you proposed, no more. Check in with me the day after you get back. In fact, we’ll set up the appointment now. Text me when you leave California and head to Nevada. And I don’t want to see you on any social media wasted or high? Got it?”
“Crystal clear. Thank you.” I clenched my fists over being treated like an unruly teen while in my fifties, and kept a smile plastered on my face.
