“Can I help you find something?” a long-haired clerk asked them as they looked at the display of horns, flutes, and clarinets.
“We need a soprano sax,” Laura told him.
“Right this way,” he said, leading them to a display of saxophones on the wall. He pulled a straight sax off and held it up for her perusal. “This is the basic beginner model of the instrument. The Xanadu 1500. It goes for a hundred and ninety-nine normally, but this week we’re having a sale and I can offer it to you for only...”
“It’s a piece of crap,” Laura told him, making no move to take it. “Good for an elementary school kid learning how to blow for the first time, but not much else.” She pointed to a locked display case that held several saxophones of various size, two trombones, a couple of flutes, and a clarinet. “I see you have a Yamaha YSS there. Can I have a look at it?”
The clerk raised his brows a bit. “That is a fine instrument,” he said, “but it’s pricey.”
“How much?” Jake asked.
“Twenty-four ninety-nine is the asking price,” the clerk told them.
“A little more than I thought,” Laura said.
Jake simply shrugged. “It’s only money,” he said. “Is the instrument worth that much?”
Laura turned back to the clerk. “What model YSS is it?” she asked him.
“Uh ... it’s the 875,” he said. “Perhaps the finest of the YSS series as far as construction and sound production, but, as you can see, that kind of quality comes with a steep price.”
Laura turned back to Jake. “The 875 is about the best you can get in a soprano,” she said. “At least among the straight ones. There’s a school of thought that the curved sopranos have superior sound quality, but they’re also pricier.”
“Is that school of thought valid?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve only played the cheap models back in high school, remember. I don’t have enough experience with the instrument to have an opinion one way or the other.”
“Well ... how about we take that thing out and you give it a blow?” Jake suggested.
“That would be the logical next step,” she agreed. She turned back to the clerk. “Can you pull that thing out for us so I can try it out?”
He made no move toward the cabinet. “You certainly seem to know your saxophones,” he told her, “but are you sure that that instrument is in your price range? We have several other models that I can let you...”
“Hey, partner,” Jake interrupted. “Can I ask you something real quick?”
“Uh ... sure,” the clerk said.
“What is your name? You never introduced yourself to us.”
“I’m Frank,” he said.
“Okay, Frank. One more question. Do you work on commission?”
“Well ... yes, I do,” Frank confirmed.
“I thought you might,” Jake said. “Let me tell you something, Frank. We are both professional musicians and we are quite serious about purchasing a high-quality soprano saxophone for a project we’re working on. We have money to spend right here and right now if we like that instrument. I would suggest you check your snobby attitude immediately, because you’re just one more condescending remark away from losing out on a hefty commission. You dig?”
Frank dug. “My apologies,” he said, with what sounded like actual sincerity. “Let me just unlock that case for you.”
He unlocked the case and brought out the instrument. It was highly polished and of solid construction. Laura looked it up and down for a moment then put her fingers on the keys and manipulated them one by one. She seemed pleased with the mechanical action. She then put her mouth on the instrument and blew. She winced at the note that came out. She manipulated the keys a little and winced some more. Jake’s ear understood why.
“It’s out of tune,” he told Frank.
“Uh ... well ... yeah,” he said. “It’s a brand new instrument.”
“Can you get her a tuning fork?” Jake asked.
“That’s okay,” Laura said. “I can do it by ear.”
“You can?” Frank asked, surprised.
“She is a professional saxophone player, remember?” Jake replied.
Laura began fussing with the mouthpiece, first pushing it in and playing what was supposed to be the A note and then the F note, and then pulling it back out and repeating the process. After five or six repetitions of this, the notes were coming out more or less like they were supposed to. She then played out a middle C, which also came out sounding pretty much normal.
“Okay,” she said. “Close enough. Let me do some scales now and warm this thing up.”
She ran through the major scales for the soprano sax. As always when she was warming up, the notes came out sounding like music even though they were just exercises. It didn’t sound quite as beautiful as when she played her alto sax, but that was probably just her unfamiliarity with the instrument. As she continued, the notes became more fluid, more expressive, cleaner.
“She really is pretty good with that thing,” Frank observed, a measure of respect showing plainly in his eyes now.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Jake told him.
As soon as she felt the instrument was warm enough, she launched immediately into the melody that Jake wanted her to play for Island (as they called it). It was a little rough at first, only half tempo from what it would be on the actual recording, but Jake liked it. He liked it a lot.
“I think we’re onto something here, Laura,” he told her.
“Yeah,” she said. “It’s a good instrument. I need to adjust my breathing of course, and the keys are a little smaller and closer together, but it’s nothing I won’t be able to work out with a little practice.”
“What song is that?” Frank asked her. “I’ve never heard it before, but I kind of like the way it flows.”
“It’s an original composition,” Jake said. “A little something we’ve been working on.” He turned back to Laura. “I’d like to hear it with my part accompanying before we commit to this.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” she said. She looked at Frank. “Can you get him a guitar?”
“A guitar?” Frank asked, as if he had never heard of such a thing.
“I’m a guitarist,” Jake told him. “The piece we’re working on is primarily acoustic guitar and soprano sax for the melody, with some piano thrown in for fill. We’d like to hear the blend and how they mix. You do have acoustic guitars in this place, right?”
“Uh ... yeah, of course we do,” Frank said. “It’s just that ... well ... I’m not trying to be insulting here, but if my boss saw me walk away from you two while you’re holding a twenty-five hundred dollar instrument in your hands, he’ll have my ass.”
Laura was insulted. “You think I would steal it?” she asked.
“No no!” Frank said, shaking his head almost violently. “I don’t think that at all, but it’s store policy that...”
“It’s okay, Frank,” Jake said. “I get where you’re coming from. There’s an easy solution here. How about we just all walk over to the guitar section together and try the experiment there?”
“Uh ... oh, yeah,” Frank said. “I guess that’ll work.”
They made the walk, Frank trailing behind them. The guitar section was where most of the current customers and browsers were congregated. Two guys in their late teens or early twenties were messing around with a Brogan Strat knockoff over in one corner. An older guy with gray hair was playing around with an acoustic-electric. Two other people were just looking at the displays.
“What kind of guitar do you need?” Frank asked. “As you can see, we have quite a collection of various...”