a NICK BEAT single
Nick Beat studied the map in the sunlight, a beautifully hand-drawn waterfall with a walkway along the cliff detailed in the center that had a vibrant Brasilian village lining the river at the top.
His companion was flustered. “No, this isn’t right,” Maria said, poking her golden-brown head from behind the map to look at the actual land. The real village was in ruin, crumbling buildings overgrown with vegetation. Only the beautiful waterfall remained, and its proud blue flow.
Her hair blew in the breeze. “Why would my father hide a studio here?”
Nick was confused. “Why would a musician set up in a waterfall canyon?” The map bent in his hands, revealing Nick Beat’s square black sunglasses and tanned, freshly bruised face. “For the acoustics,” he said, and snapped the paper back rigid. The map put their days-long adventure into perspective. All that was left was to find the legendary funk hero Marco Zaya’s lost studio.
“You continue to justify your price.” Maria said. “Your agent was right.”
“She knows you send a musician to find a musician,” Nick said. “And I’m a one man band.”
Maria laughed. “A band without instruments.”
“I’ll play if the mood strikes,” Beat said. “You hired me to bring you closure.”
For the dozenth time during the trip, Nick glanced at the poem written in the upper right corner.
Sing to me, Lady in My Heart.
I hear your voice across the land, this land I love.
Sing to me, Lady in My Heart.
I will always be with you, even when I’m gone.
Dane Thomsen 