The sound of a harmonic plucking played throughout the small room. An idea teetered on the edge of the notes, fingers moving on the neck of the guitar. A soft humming followed after every once in a while.
The player was relaxed on his bed as he effortless played the instrument. The guitar itself was very weathered and worn from many years of uses. The fret board was almost completely rid of the finish in between the frets. The body didn't look any better, it was all banged up; beneath the sound hole were indications of picks used.
But it played beautifully.
The room was filled with the warmth of the barely rising sun beaming through the pale curtains, giving the room a soft ambient feel to it. Small particles of dust floundered about the place. It seemed to glow bright in the beam of the sunlight when it past the window.
There was furniture pushed up against the walls; a small twin bed by the window, a big dresser on the opposite side of the room. As well as a small desk accompanying the same wall as the door.
It was calm and the birds were just barely chirping outside. The player seem to take inspiration from the sound just beyond the window.
"Chester". A soft but raspy voice come from behind the door, followed by a series of knocks.
"It's open". The boy said, placing the guitar down on the bed. Bucky McBadbat walked through the door in just a towel fresh from the shower, a toothbrush in hand, and a mouth full of toothpaste. "Did you do the clothes yesterday?"
It may have been a few years since Bucky has uncovered his face from the brown paper bag, but Chester was still glad that he can now see his dads face. He and his dad looked almost like brothers, if it wasn't for the twenty-three year age difference.
His dad had stopped caring about being ashamed for being the worst baseball player in history. As well as getting his teeth fixed, along with this job he managed to get.
Chester was proud of his dad.
"Yeah, there in the dresser". He answered, pointing with his thumb to the big dresser on the other side of the room. Bucky walked over and opened the one of the drawers and pulled out a thick pair of worn blue jeans, a whit pair of socks, and a whit t-shirt. He then walked out and back to the bathroom.
Chester look that as a sign to get up and make breakfast.
Chester was ready to go already, dressed in jeans, a loose black shirt, and a thin grey zip up hoodie.
He walked out into the kitchen, grabbed the bread, and put two pieces in the toaster. Then got a box of dried oatmeal, and a pot full of water, then lit the stove up. In about five minutes, had two hot bowls of oatmeal.
The kitchen itself was very small, only the essentials, leaving almost no counter space.
His dad came out of the bathroom fully dressed, minus the shoes. He grabbed one of the two bowls and a piece of toast with melted butter, on his way to the table.
Chester followed soot. Grabbed himself a bowl, a piece of toast and sat down. The two slowly started a small conversation.
"So…, how's that big project coming along? You've anything about it?" His dad asked. Chester took a bite of his toast. We're supposed to be pared up with are partners to, so, I'll see how that goes." He said.
Chester, much like his friends, were in their Senior year of high school. This big project was a big part of how or if they graduate. Chester had confidence in his ability to do so, his grades weren't perfect, but there were passable. He wouldn't let the efforts of his dd hard work go to waste.
Regardless whomever he was pared up with, he would pass.
"how's A.J. doing?" Bucky asked, as he got up to clean out his now empty bowl. "are you still not talking to the one friend…, what was his name again, um, Timmy, right?"
Chester snapped out of his thought prosses.
"A.J. is doing good" Chester paused for a moment. "Timmy and I are… ok?" he said hesitantly. "I mean, we're somewhat taking again." Bucky's eyebrows rose a bit.
Ever since Timmy became part of the high school football team during freshmen year. He started to hang out with them less and less. He actually started to blow them off when ever they made plans and go hang with the football team.
They ended their friendship on really bad terms.
It wasn't until Timmy stated dating Tootie at the end of junior year. It was out of the blue, but it seems to make since, they were a cute couple.
"yeah, I know, it's weird, right? Supersized me to, but glad to have an old friend back." Chester said, to his dad brow raise.
"well that's good." His dad said. He looked at the clock on the wall. "come on its 5:20, we better get going." He said, grabbing his keys and wallet. Chester quickly finished his food, washed the dish, grabbing his backpack, and skateboard.
He picked up his shoes by the door and placed them in his bag. He followed his dad outside, on the small porch laid two pairs of well-worn steel toed boots.
His dad put on his respective pair.
Outside by the sidewalk was an old beat up Toyota truck. Chester through his backpack and skateboard in the bed of the truck, then got in the passenger side. Bucky started the truck and drove off.
With a short ten-minute drive, they were at the construction site. The both of them hopped out of the truck, Chester grabbed his stuff from the bed and put it in the cabin of the truck.
One of Bucky's Co-workers come up to great them. "hey, Mc bad batters." Rick said with a laugh. Chester just rolled his eyes at the joke of his sir name. "awe. Come on, I'm just poking some fun." He said, patting Chester's back. Chester brushed off his hand, and started loading the truck with bags of powder cement.
"just leave my boy alone Rick." Bucky said, helping out his son with the bags. Rick held ou his hands in defense. "alright." He said. "Ronny just told me that he needs to see you in his office."
Both the blonds looked at each other, Chester just shrugged. He had no idea why the boss wanted to talk to his dad. Neither did his dad apparently, he looked just as confused has he was.
"will you be fine?" Bucky asked. Chester nodded and grabbed the keys to the truck. Bucky and Rick walked away, making small conversion.
Chester finished load the truck, hopped in and drove to the other side of the site where main construction was.
When he pulled up and turned off the car, people, right away started unloading the bed. Chester help with the unloading, and mixing of the cement.
He did this back and forth with the bags, loading and unloading. Before he knew it at was seven. Chester needed to go, he wanted to stop by somewhere before he headed to school.
He found his dad, give him back the keys, switched out his boots for his normal worn shoes, and grabbed his skateboard and backpack. He said his goodbye and headed downtown.
The store itself was only a fifteen-minute ride on a skateboard, from the work place. When he walked in, the warm air hit him and the smell of wood reached his nose.
The shop was on the small side when is came to most music stores, that's what made Chester fall in love with the place.
Someone came out from the back holding a polished but well used saxophone and greeted Chester with a smile. "Well, well look who decided to show up?" the old man said. Chester rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile back at the man.
"Hey Pops, it was only last week since my last visit, you really miss that much?" He asked back, putting his stuff over behind the counter.
Pops was man in his mid-fifties, his skin was the color of cured leather, in contrast to his graying hair and bread. He had the soul of a jazz player; his eyes were soft and kind.
"So, you got anything new in?" Chester asked, tapping his finger on the glass counter top.
Pops just laughed, and pointed to the acoustic guitars on the far side of the store. "we got a couple of new toys, why did you go have a look for yourself?"
Chester walked over to where the guitars were. There were a few Martian's and Fenders, but what really caught his eye, was the only Ovation. The burled maple body top gleamed with polish. The sound hole was accented with ivory wrapping around it.
It was beautiful.
He picked it up, sat down on one of the stools and started playing. As soon as his fingers worked the strings, he lost himself in the sweet sound from the guitar.
He got so caught up in the music, he didn't notice Pops listening in on him. Has he let the last chord ring out. Pops chuckled, "Well, that's new, you wrote that?" he asked.
Chester smiled sheepishly, "Yeah, I wrote it."
"you got talent boy." Pops complemented.
Chester brushed it off, "I mean, I guess." He said, putting the guitar down. He walked over to his first love in music, the banjo. Picking one up and he stared tuning it.
He played a little riff he thought would go with the harmony of the guitar. When he was satisfied with the harmony, before he could stop playing pops joined in on his sax.
Chester laughed and played more, now following pop's lead. When they finally came to the end, both musicians had big smiles on their faces.
"You sure you don't want to help me out with music lessons?" Pops asked once the laughter died down. Chester look down, biting his lip, "You know I want to, but I can't, I need to focus on school and then help my dad out at the site." He said sadly.
He knew Pops wanted to start music class here at the shop, but he doesn't have some to help teach, if there were any student to teach. Pops just sighed, alright, but ii you know someone that would be willing to help, just let me know." Chester nodded. He continued to look around the shop he knew so well.
He even helped Pops around the store, cleaning and taking and putting out different interments.
By the time he was finished, it was seven forty-five. Chester sighed and walked back out to the front. He was about to grab his things when Pops called to him. He turned and saw Pops waling toward him, wallet out.
"No." was all Chester said. Pops rolled his eyes, and pulled out two ten-dollar bills.
"Take it."
"No"
"boy…"
"Pops…"
The stern look on the old man's face made Chester think about what would happen if he stood his ground..., he didn't want to think about. So, with a sigh, he just gave up, took the bills and shoved them in his pocket.
Pops smirked and walked back behind the counter.
He was at the door, with his stuff, said goodbye to Pops, and exited the store.
Chester sighed again once outside, hopped on his board, and headed to Dimmsdale high school.