UNTIL THAT NIGHT, Relly wouldn't tell me the name. This seemed kind of stupid. How was he going to get famous if he wouldn't reveal the name of his band?
"Not till everything is in place," he'd said. "When we're ready, then we conquer the universe."
He wiped the neck of his Strat and looked at the other two guys. "Well?" he said.
"She's in," Butt said. He did a drumroll and then whacked a crash cymbal. "I say she's in."
Jerod shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."
Relly nodded. "Welcome to Scorpio Bone."
"That's the name of the band?" I asked.
"Scorpio Bone," he said again, louder.
Then he played a dark, crawling riff. Butt joined him, just tom-toms and kick drum, a deep throb. Finally Jerod wailed on top of the noise, "Scorpio Bone!" like this was the theme music to some monster metal movie.
"You're in," Relly said when they'd finished. "Welcome."
We played another hour or two. It was mostly covers. A lot of Black Sabbath and Judas Priest, and one more Led Zeppelin tune, a weird, looming version of "The Ocean."
Then Relly taught me the bass line for one of his originals, "The Three-Prong Crown." It didn't come easy. But it came right. I mean I had to work at it. Still, the line fit my hands and the chords fit the words. And the sound fit my brain.