Chapter 6
Six
In the morning Cadenza peeked through her living room window to find the Berlinetta parked safely in its spot.
She jingled the keys in her hand. With the music so crazy the night before she hadn’t thought to return them to the Norroways.
Taran obviously had his own keys. She jogged downstairs, climbed in the driver’s seat, and hugged the steering wheel.
Maybe I’ll just hold on to mine for a while. Even as she thought it, she knew it was ridiculous. But she couldn’t stomach giving them up yet.
“Besides, he’s been gone for who knows how long and then just swoops in and takes you out all night? How about we take a little spin to make sure he didn’t mess anything up.”
The engine fired to life. The clean water scent of the leather filled the interior. The sky was clear, the earthsong behaving itself. She pet the dashboard. “A good day to try Highway 49 again, eh bello?”
Drostan flagged her down along the road to the showroom.
“Morning, Caddie. Alright?” He searched her face, and she groaned inside at how bizarre her behavior last night must have seemed.
“Sto bene.” She gave him a thumbs-up like her father used to do, and Drostan chuckled. “I thought I’d just take the Ferrari for a little drive, if that’s ok.”
“Of course. Just keep it here on the lot. You can use the track. It’s been out of commission for near four and half years,” he explained when her shoulders drooped. “The registration and whatnot are expired.”
“Ah, right. I wasn’t thinking about that. I guess Taran just drove it around the track last night, then?”
“He kept it close for sure.” Drostan made to go, but his smile sobered. “Caddie. I haven’t said yet—thanks for making it go again.”
She nodded. “Thanks for letting me stay.”
“Aye, well.” He cleared his throat, and she pretended not to notice the shimmer in his eyes. “We’ve another race on Saturday. You’ll be there to sing?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Cadenza gave him a little salute.
He patted the roof of the car twice and stepped back, and she turned the car towards the back of the lot.
Sun and French horns glinted off the arena seats.
Cadenza slipped on her sunglasses, letting the Ferrari prowl onto the track.
She took a slow lap first, feeling the engine.
On the second lap, she let the Berlinetta have its head.
Notes spun out from the tires, stretched and cello-like.
They tickled the back of her neck as she drifted the turn for fun.
The engine growled a symphony, and she opened the throttle in response but kept a grip on the music. Control.
Drums, fast and rolling, sprung up from the earth like a punch to the gut.
She gasped and the car fishtailed. Song flooded her body, wrapped around her vocal cords.
The same urgency she’d felt last night pushed at her, and the need to do something with the music stole her breath away.
Her heart pounded in time with the drums. She let up on the gas, not wanting to lose control.
At least, not of the car.
But the music. The music had been so volatile in the week since she’d come to Norroway Auto—gone one minute, drowning her the next. That urge to use the music was not normal but…not completely unfamiliar either. Where had she felt that before?
A memory surfaced, dim and blurry like an old photograph.
Singing dandelions.
A man with antlers.
A woman with full red flowers encircling her hair.
And the earthsong. Pushing at Cadenza’s five-year-old self so hard her throat hurt. Screaming at her like a distortion amp to do something with it. Make something happen.
She gripped the steering wheel tighter. A man with antlers didn’t make any sense. She grasped at the images, searching for their source—maybe it was the memory of a dream?—but they slipped away.
“What do you want from me?” she whispered.
Control was her watch word. She led. Not the music.
She had no idea what the earthsong wanted her to do with it, but maybe if she let the music lead for once, it would settle down.
It was tempting. What would it feel like to let go of control?
To flow with the song instead of fight it?
The Ferrari slowed to coasting, and Cadenza took a deep breath. She gathered the notes all jostling for attention, pulled in the songs. Loosened her hold. And sang three wordless notes.
The car shot forward like she’d smashed the pedal to the floor. Her head smacked against the seat, and she dropped the song in surprise. The Ferrari spun out in circles, the track blurring around her. Cadenza cranked the wheel to level out, clamped down on the song, and came to a stop.
“What was that?” She threw her hands up at the dashboard. The last time she’d lost control of a vehicle was before she even had a driver’s license. So much for flowing with the music.
“If you’re gonna be like that, you can stay on your leash,” she muttered. At least no one was around to see her spin out.
“Andiamo, bello. Let’s head back.” She glanced towards the gates. And groaned. Down the track Canon finished a phone call, hopped the barrier, and jogged towards her.
“Porco cane,” she swore. So much for no one having seen. She killed the engine as Canon pulled open the driver door.
“Are you ok? What happened?”
“No, yeah.” She stood. “I’m fine. Just a lapse in concentration I guess.”
“No, you wanted something.” He narrowed his eyes, staring at her intently. “You wanted to let go of something.”
She blanched, and he shrugged. “I told you, I read what people want.”
“No,” she said, nostrils flaring. “You Google people and make them think you have some kind of psychic ability. Not the same thing.”
“No,” he echoed, hands on hips. “I told you the truth. It’s your choice whether you believe it or not. Are you sure you’re ok?”
She clutched the car door and nodded.
“Good. Because I need you to come to another campaign function with me. It’s in Sonora, at the Opera Hall downtown, so no long drive this time. And it’s casual, more of an open house.”
Cadenza blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “Why?”
“Candidates never bother campaigning in Tuolumne County,” he said. “I want the people here to know I’d be representing them too.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean why do you need me to go?”
He hesitated, running his hand through his hair.
“Canon,” she said. “You know we’re not dating, right?”
“Sure.” He lit up his smile. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t go on a date, right? Besides, my cousin saw your ad for voice lessons and asked me about you. She’ll be there.”
“She asked you about me? Why didn’t she just call me?”
“You listed the location as Norroway Auto. She knows I work here, wanted an honest opinion. She’s had some pretty scary teachers before and didn’t want a repeat. I gave you a glowing recommendation of course.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She tilted her head at him. “I didn’t know you had family up here.”
He shrugged and crossed to the passenger door. “We’re not close. Drive us up, and I’ll tell you about the event.”
Cadenza sank into the driver’s seat. “Fine, but you know we’re not done discussing the whole ‘read people’s desires’ thing. How does that even work?”
He gave half a smile. “It’s a gift.”
“Well, who gave it to you?”
“Maybe if you come to my open house, I’ll tell you.” He winked.
“Is everything a deal to you?”
Canon shrugged. “Life is an exchange.”
Cadenza cruised the Ferrari through the gates, wondering what Canon really hoped to get out of his exchanges with her.
Restlessness plucked at Cadenza’s legs. She’d come back to her apartment that afternoon after Canon insisted on buying her lunch to talk about the Opera Hall Open House—somehow, he kept getting dates out of her even as she insisted they weren’t dating—and had spent hours researching trip costs and possible jobs.
She poured over her scribbled calculations as she paced the living room.
Income
Norroway Auto: $500 (commercial paid up front)
Country Club: $528 ($22/hour X 3 hours X 8 nights)
Voice lessons for Canon’s cousin?: ($40/hour 2 times a week till end of month) $320
(Get more students?)
Expenses
Airfare: ~$800
Bribe: $3,000
Rent: $910
Food: ~$400
It wasn’t enough. She could get the plane ticket by the end of the month, but she’d be short nearly $3800 for the rest. She’d called her agent again that afternoon, but there were no weddings or other gigs available in the timetable she was working with.
The temporary job listings she’d combed through were all things she was unqualified for—dental hygienist, tax preparer assistant, computed tomography technician.
“I don’t even know what a computed tomography technician is. And no place is going to give me a loan with my credit.” She groaned, raking her fingers through her hair.
Out the balcony window, the last traces of sunset glowed orange and blue.
Feet planted in the middle of the room, she stared down the sky, her quads twitching.
Maybe she needed some exercise. She threw on some leggings and running shoes, trailed her fingers over the roof of the F12 on the way out of the garage, and hit the pavement.
A thrum greeted her from the ground, her feet pounding out a response as she ran past the racetrack and towards the fields.
Asphalt changed to dirt as the lane curved along the top of the empty backlands of Drostan’s “estate.”
The dirt road cut through a copse of oak trees, and on her right the last of the twilight melted into night. The earth pulsed beneath her, lighter tonight, frame drum rather than kettle. The oak trees hummed to themselves, and the breeze trilled.
Cadenza dropped to a walk, not wanting to trip in the darkness. Despite her many visits as a child, she had never fully explored the fields and small woods at the back of the property. She just knew Drostan liked to keep plenty of open space around the main area of the business.