Rat Captain Ch. 2

Static. Commonly regarded as white noise, or snow, it is the result yielded when an analogue television is receiving no signal. Angus knew this sound well because it played in his head for hours a day. As he stared into the void on his bedroom wall, static was his best friend. 

“Gus……Gus… GUS!” 

Angus felt a ring crack against the back of his head. He knew that ring anywhere, it cost him a fortune after all. Destiny, Angus’ fiance, emerged from the void in Angus’ wall, hands on her hips. 
“What in the hell’ve you been doin’ in here? We’re gonna be late for the gig. Pack your shit and let’s go!” she yelled, in her thick Brooklyn accent. 

Angus raced from his bedroom, heart pounding. He grabbed his trusty gig bag and threw it into the back of Destiny’s beige Subaru Outback. Destiny was waiting at the wheel, her leg bouncing impatiently. Angus hopped into the shotgun seat beside her. The car doors weren't even shut before Destiny floored it out of the parking garage and into West Philadelphia.  

“What’s your rush?” Angus inquired. Destiny said nothing, staring straight ahead at the city traffic. Angus frowned out his window, noticing an empty back seat in the side view mirror. “Where are the others?” Angus asked. Still, he was met with silence, and his patience thinned. “Hello?” he persisted, waiting for a response. Angus decided to raise his voice, demanding “could you please just answ-” 

“Could YOU please spare the questionnaire, Gus, I'm getting tired of your sh-” Destiny’s outburst ended in a gasp as her Suberu screeched to a halt, inches away from the fender of the car in front of them. The two paused and locked eyes, Destiny’s arm holding Angus against his seat. Destiny softened up, “I couldn't get in touch with the others. Last time we spoke I couldn’t understand a thing, I think they were on shrooms again. And I'm in a rush because I wanted to beat this god damn traffic.” 

The two stayed silent for the rest of the ride, until they reached the venue. It was a dirty basement owned by an even dirtier person. Cham was a tall man with curly black hair that bounced with every arrogant step he took. He wore a white tank top and black cargo pants that led down to his decade old vans. Angus and the band had played Cham’s Palace dozens of times, it was almost routine. Cham emerged from the storm cellar doors to meet his guests. Destiny ran up to Cham and received a very friendly hug, followed by a firm handshake from Angus. 

As the three got situated, Angus’ nerves grew. As Cham and Destiny chatted away, Angus prepared for the impending show. Everything was accounted for, except one cable meant to connect Angus’ mic to the speaker system. Cham was unhelpful in the search, both Destiny and Cham seemed unphased by the issue. With the show quickly approaching, and fans on the way, Angus decided to run to a nearby music store and quickly purchase a replacement. 

Upon his return, Angus was not surprised to see fans funneling into the basement about a half hour early. Cham never kept on schedule. Angus hated Cham; his wild disregard for order and respect made Angus want to quit show biz for good. 

Fans began chanting for music, understandably bored. With no word from the band and Destiny nowhere to be found, Angus had reached the end of his rope. He marched up the living room stairs to Cham’s room, stopping at the closed door. Angus knocked, but there was no way that Cham would hear over the rowdy crowd two floors down. Out of ideas, Angus barged into the room, “Cham have you se-” 

Cham threw Destiny off of his lap as Angus slammed the door shut, petrified. TV Static filled Angus’ ears, drowning out the distant pleas from Cham and Destiny and the impatient crowd below. Angus ran down to the kitchen, Destiny close behind, pleading for forgiveness. 

“Please can we talk about this, please, Angus, just wait” Destiny begged, while Angus sat at the kitchen table, head in hands. Cham stood at the bottom of the stairs, quietly observing. “Please Angus, answer me, please” Destiny continued, but Angus could not hear her; he could not hear anything over the ringing in his ears. Suddenly, the kitchen phone rang, cutting through Angus’ trance. Cham picked up the phone and rested his back against the wall. Even now, Cham still had that arrogant edge to his demeanor, which made it all the more puzzling when the voice on the other line turned him white as a ghost.  

With a quivering voice, Cham questioned the caller. Time seemed to stop as Destiny and Angus waited for an explanation.

“Thank you for telling me, I'll let them know,” Cham whispered, hanging up the phone. He turned to the others, “that was Voss’ Dad… Ricky and Voss aren’t going to make it tonight… th- there's been an accident” tears began to form in the corners of Cham’s eyes, “they were speeding down i95… Ricky swerved and, and… they didn't make it” 

The static in Angus’ ears halted, as Angus came to realize the severity of the situation. He should have been in that car with his bandmates. He had cheated death. 

With tears falling from his eyes, he wandered down to the basement. He looked out over the sea of restless fans. They had come here for a show, and he could not let them down. He grabbed his blood red Stratocaster guitar and strummed it. The loud, distorted tone resonated throughout the house. The fans began to chant: 

“Rat Captain! 

Rat Captain! 

Rat Captain!”

Angus smirked, his sharp whiskers scratching the cold metal microphone. Angus had cheated death. He wasn't about to waste this second chance.