Lots of people try to make their house look special with art. Some offices or other businesses did the same thing to make their establishments more welcoming. One might wonder about the plight of the artist whose work was reproduced hundreds of times to furnish the inside of a fast-casual dining establishment. If they got paid per reproduction, they'd be set. That probably wasn't how it worked.
There was a small recording studio on the very outskirts of the big city, far enough away from the excitement of film production, but near enough to be accessible with a short drive. The other nearby establishments, which included long-term self-service storage solutions, pawn shops, bail bondsmen, an asphalt plant, some empty storefronts and one good old-fashioned 'gentleman's club...' perhaps they indicated that this place had found a location outside the glitz of the 'business' mostly because of low property value.
But this meant they had some spare money with which to decorate.
It was a single piece of varnished wood, very old, with many different things attached to it. Some bells, a hinge, a doorknob, a metal bar... and three note pieces from a xylphone with a mallet hanging from a hook. That was clearly a reproduction. The rubber end of the mallet would have crumbled away decades ago if it was as old as the wood.
Agnes was staring at this... thing that was mounted to the wall. The whole board almost looked like one of those plastic playthings a parent would tie to part of a crib, with many little gears or things to turn, click or otherwise manipulate to entertain a baby. There was a sign on it that said not to touch it, but there was nobody else around...
Betty finally burst out into the waiting room. "Sorry I couldn't let you in!" She apologized. She was a woman of average height with blonde hair, oversized black hooded sweatshirt and leggings.
Agnes smiled as she saw her. She was more of a classic beauty, taller with a mop of curly brown hair. She wore a leather jacket that was more like a bolero, and red jeans. "Hey, Betty. I'm surprised you left the door unlocked for me. You're not afraid that some transient will wander in here without permission?"
"If I'd left the doorstop in the door, maybe that would have happened because then they'd know the door would open." Betty reasoned. "They're not going to try every doorknob to see if it's unlocked, especially if they see a light on."
"I guess that's true." Agnes said. "My car's not in any danger out there, is it?"
"Not since Garmins went out of style." Betty said. "Besides, we got security cameras and motion-detecting lights. We'll be alright."
Agnes nodded, turning her head back to the multipurpose plank of wood that had been affixed to the wall.
"You're wondering what this is, aren't you?" Betty asked.
"I am." Agnes nodded. The only sign below it was the one asking nobody to touch it. If the sign said what it was, maybe she wouldn't feel such a strong desire to touch it.
"Back in the days of radio, they made all the sound effects live on the air." Betty explained. "There were no 'takes.' You had one chance to get it right, like live theater. There would be a dedicated 'sound man,' or many, who would make sounds at the right time along with the actors. This sound board is one that he might use to make certain sound effects."
"I've got a 'sound board' on my phone..." Agnes said. "But it only plays quotes from The Office."
"Yeah, that would be unimaginable back in the thirties." Betty said. "There are these two bells at the top." She picked up the mallet hanging from the bottom of the device on an eyehook. She struck the mallet between the two bells, making a ding-dong that sounded like an old doorbell. "You can also just tap this one..." She tapped the top of the bell. In this context, this sounded more like a hotel bell. "Or you can rattle it between the two really fast to make an old-fashioned telephone ring, but this mallet is too big to do that."
Betty continued to show this sound board's features. "You have door opening..." She turned the doorknob, which made a loud mechanical 'clunk.' "Creaky hinge..." She pulled on the separate piece of wood attached by the hinge. The metal hinge squeaked. "Ever creakier by the day... and of course, the all-important xylophone for studio identification."
Betty passed the mallet to Agnes. "Would you do the honors?"
Agnes gladly accepted. She put on her nicest and most professional tone. "This ends our broadcast day." She tapped the three notes in turn. The famous three-note jingle... didn't sound right.
"The second and third notes are transposed." Agnes noted.
"Yes, you just have to play it like this." Betty took back the hammer and played the sequence properly, hitting the first note, then the third and ending with the second.
"Why not put them in that order, then?"
"You just have to know which notes to play."
"But... you can see where it used to say NBC on the notes. The C is on the B note, and vice versa. If they've only got one take, you would think they'd make it foolproof."
"Well, whoever built this is dead, so there's nobody left to complain to." Betty said, lowering the mallet.
Agnes looked around the waiting room. There were no other faces in here except the ones on the old magazines on the coffee table. Which reminded Agnes... "Does this place have coffee?"
"It's too late for coffee." Betty said.
"It's eleven o'clock at night, and I pulled a double today." Agnes said. "It's too late NOT to have coffee."
Betty brought Agnes to the thinly appointed 'break room,' more of a tiny kitchen, only slightly bigger than a bathroom stall with an old refrigerator and harsh fluorescent lighting. There was a coffee maker at one side of the room, which quickly saw use. The room filled with the aroma of not-that-great coffee, and Agnes poured herself a paper cup's worth. The cups were those ones that were prop cups printed with poker games on them that were featured so prominently in Terminator 2. She didn't know any place actually stocked these things.
"You remember what I promised you in college, right?" Betty said, sipping some water. "If I ever had some acting work for you, I'd throw it your way. If you had any sound work, you'd send it to me."
"I remember." Agnes said. "I'm sorry I really haven't found any sound work except for that audiobook."
"It's fine. I always knew it'd be easier for me than it would be for you." Betty said. "I'm really sorry to pull you in like this so late, but I'm in a real pickle right now."
"I'm happy to do it." Agnes sipped her coffee. "I'm just glad to be doing some acting. I'm assuming that's what you need, right? You didn't call me to move a dead body or something, right?"
"No, it is acting work." Betty said. "And it needs to be done... tonight."
Agnes stared at her. "What happened? Why the urgency?"
"I'll show you when we go into the booth."
Agnes got to the bottom of her tiny paper cup and poured another one before following Betty out of the room. It sounds like it might turn into a long night.
Betty brought Agnes through one door, down a short hall, and into the actual recording booth of the studio. It was a room covered in acoustic foam on all the walls, even the door. The only flat surfaces not covered were the pane of glass that separated this booth from the control room next door. Inside, there were several microphones on boom arms, some music stands for holding scripts, and a white folding table covered in many different devices.
When Agnes heard the door shut behind her, she turned around... and Betty wasn't there. It was shockingly quiet in this room. Agnes had been in sound dampening rooms, but there was normally a bit of activity to make noise. A place like this, this late... it was almost chilling, like a trap had snapped around her.
Betty appeared in the booth. She moved a smaller microphone to her mouth as she prepared some things at terminals that Agnes couldn't see. "I'm just getting everything set up." Betty's voice appeared over the loudspeaker. "It's just us tonight. No techs or anything. They all went home. Could you put on those headphones, please?"
There were a pair of professional looking ear-covering headphones on the couch in the room. Seemed weird to have a couch in here. Wouldn't the springs inside this make audible squeaks? Agnes took a seat, and didn't feel or hear anything. Maybe it would be fine. She put on the headphones.
"So, we have this film that they shot a little while back. Apparently, nobody on set was monitoring the boom sound, or the guy didn't have his headphones up high enough to notice that it was too quiet. So all that sound was useless. Normally, we could go back and rely on the on-board sound. It's not great, but it might cut the mustard if I do some magic on it."
Betty tapped some keys on her computer. A portion of the movie began to play on the screen in the booth, into Agnes' headphones. It was a conversation between two glamorous women.
Agnes immediately threw the headphones off. It sounded like they were recorded through a tin can. It had that thoroughly blown-out sound of someone yelling into a microphone much too closely. Agnes picked the headphones and listened to the dialogue as close as she could. It was sometimes comprehensible through the distortion... but if it sounded this bad, why would anyone endure it?
"Holy cow, that's bad." Agnes groaned.
"Some dimwit put the gain all the way up on the camera's on-board microphone." Betty shook her head. "It's unbearable when its loud and incomprehensible when its quiet. Normally, we could go back to the boom, but that didn't get picked up at all. It the audio equivalent of someone forgetting to take the lens cap off."
"So... you need me to redub all the dialogue for the characters?" Agnes asked. "I can do that."
"WE'LL do it." Betty said "There are only two characters, so I'll play one and you'll play the other."
"You can act?"
"I've done some radio commercials before. Not that the standards are THAT high for that. I was just around. But I'm familiar with this material. I should do fine. There's nobody else to do it, so I don't really have a choice." She left the booth and returned to the main studio space.
