Chapter 5The boy, Fizz, laid on his bed fully clothed, nestled in the bunched up sheets. His pale blue eyes stared vacantly, and the small device that now played his music—after the red-head had insisted upon it—was blaring tinnily into his ears. I watched him from the corner of the room.
Those other boys had struggled past the open doorway several times, hefting their music equipment. I only knew they were machines to do with music because I'd seen similar models downstairs in the bar, set up for various rag-tag musicians to play in the evenings, when the bar was busiest.
At least now I knew what made that incredible racket my new lodger listened to. Guitars powered by electricity. Simply fascinating. And drums. So many drums, it seemed impossible that one human being could play them al
