Part 2-Roger
A classroom. An English classroom, to be exact. The words "Congratulations Class of '89!" scrawled on the blackboard.
In this classroom, Roger Davis, yearbook in hand, got up to leave with the rest of the class when the bell had finally rung.
He was just about to put his first foot out into freedom, when Ms. Dell, the teacher, called, "Roger, will you stay for a second, please?"
Roger stayed frozen for a second with his foot poised halfway through the door already, then turned around and faced the teacher.
"What?" he asked.
She looked at him for a second before beginning to speak. "I'm sorry for what was happening with you earlier," she began. Roger looked at his feet. "But you really are quite a talented student."
Roger looked up sharply. "I am?" he asked.
She walked towards him. "You are quite a gifted poet." She smiled. "But it's strange, the way they're written is like-"
"A song." Roger finished.
The teacher raised an eyebrow.
"It's the only way I know how to write, Ms. Dell."
She nodded. "Very well," she said finally. "You may go."
Roger hesitated for a while, as if confused by the whole situation, then turned and left.
------------
A few days later Roger found himself walking. Not really anywhere in particular, just somewhere. Wherever his feet decided to take him.
His feet came to a halt right outside an old shop where something in the window caught his eye.
It was a guitar. Definitely not particularly special in any way, but it caught his eye nonetheless.
Roger used to have a guitar. Back before.. He shook the thought out of his head. It wasn't worth it.
A few minutes later, Roger had already gone inside, bought the guitar and was sitting on a nearby curb strumming it softly.
On a whim, he started picking up a melody on it, he started really getting into it when a voice interrupted him by saying, "You play that thing really well."
Roger stopped playing and looked up at the owner of the voice. It was a girl slightly tall, thin and beautiful, with a slight Hispanic look about her.
"Well, I didn't mean for you to stop," she complained.
She gave him a small, sultry smile and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Name's April," she told him. "You?"
"Huh?"
"Do those looks come with a name?" She smirked.
"Oh. Roger."
"Cool. Nice to meet you." She gave him a once-over. "Very nice."
Roger got up from his place on the curb. "You're not from around here." It was a statement.
She answered it anyway. "No, I'm not. And I probably won't be staying for long, either."
Roger nodded. "Where're you heading?"
"Wherever I feel like," April told him. "Probably New York."
Roger looked down the street as if not quite sure how to continue this conversation, or how to stop it. For some reason, he had the gut feeling that he wasn't going to stop it.
"Wanna come with?" April asked.
"Come with you to New York?" Roger questioned.
"That's what I said."
Roger considered this. This was a point in his life where he had a choice. He could go home, where his mother would be, probably with some guy who was just using her and being a total jerk until he finally left her for someone younger and more attractive. Life would continue in its usual cycle, and he would forget this mysterious girl who just happened upon his life. Or he could choose the other path. He could follow April, and his life would be opened up to new experiences, to the realm of the unexpected.
"Sure. I'll come."
"Good." She smiled again, enticing him.
Roger found himself smiling back at her. A thought struck him. "I have to stop someplace first," he said.
"No problem."
Roger walked as fast as his feet could carry him to the post office. He never looked behind him, but he could sense April following him. Hear the slight fall of her footsteps coming after his.
When he finally swept through the door, he could see April waiting just outside for him.
He took a postcard off the rack, paid for it, found a pen that he had stuck in his pants pocket, and hastily wrote out:
Mom,
I'm leaving. Probably to New York.
Roger
He looked it over before adding the word "love" before his name, and then adding, "I'll call."
He got a packet of stamps, put one on it, and walked outside and over to the mailbox, where he dropped it in.
He looked at April. "Lead on," he instructed.
----------
"So, how long have you been doing this for?"
Roger wasn't sure how to do this. He wasn't used to it, at least not as of late. That was the only thing he could come up with to say.
"What?" April asked him.
"Oh, you know.traveling."
"About a year," she answered him.
"How old are you?" He couldn't help but ask.
She laughed softly. "What's with the third degree?"
"Oh.. Forget it." Roger looked out the window of the bus they were in. Headed towards New York City.
"No, it's okay," April told him. "I'm sixteen."
Roger looked back at her and she paused before adding, "High School drop- out."
"Oh." Roger looked at the window again, then said, "I'm eighteen."
Part of him could hardly believe she was only sixteen.
Sixteen.
He let that thought fade out, not letting it reach a conclusion.
April's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Just graduated?" she asked.
"Yeah." Roger hesitated, then said, "Almost didn't."
"At least you stuck it out," April told him. "Sometimes I wish I stayed in school. But I didn't, so I don't like to think about it." Her eyes glazed over for a second before refocusing. "I've got too many regrets to be wasting one on school," she said, almost under her breath.
Roger nodded. That made sense.
-------------
When they arrived in the city, they just wandered around, doing nothing in particular, but having fun at whatever they decided to do.
Finally, their wanderings took them to a place much less appealing to the eye.
April look at the crumbling buildings in distaste. "Ugh. I think we're in Alphabet City."
"Alphabet City?" Roger inquired.
"Oh, you know.. All these crooks and drug dealers." She looked at him sternly. "I don't do drugs," she told him forcefully.
"Right. Of course. Neither do I."
Roger let his mind wander backwards in time, back to a time where that statement would not have been true. He hadn't told April that that was the culprit for him almost not graduating from high school. Sometimes he himself couldn't believe that that had taken up a year and a half of his life. His thoughts went back to the end of Sophomore year. Sixteen.. He let the thought trail off once more.
April's eyes wandered over to where a man was selling some sort of fruit drink. It was bottled, so she didn't think that it would be spiked. "I'm parched," she complained aloud.
Roger spotted the man as well. "Me to."
After the drink was bought, April held it in her hand, but made no move to drink it. Instead, her eyes wandered over the street and she started walking. Roger followed her.
They stopped when they came to a spot where there was a person crumpled in a heap on the ground.
He got up as if he knew someone had approached him. It was a black man, probably in his early twenties, and very drunk.
The man staggered toward them, and stopped not far from them. He looked Roger up and down several times, gave him a goofy, drunken grin, and then collapsed on top of him.
--------------
When the man awoke, he was being looked upon by two people, one of which announced, "He's waking up."
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. "What-" he began. Then he fuzzily remembered what had happened. "Oh." He paused. "I'm sorry."
He looked at the two people staring at him, one girl and one guy.
After a moment's silence the guy spoke. "Who are you?" he asked.
Regaining his composure, and remembering his James Bond, he replied, "Collins. Tom Collins."
Roger, not really in the state of getting it, said, "Okay, Collins. I'm Roger, and this is April."
Collins decided to forget Roger's misunderstanding. He wanted to start over, didn't he? Might as well be called something different. "Hi."
"So, what brings you here?" April asked.
"Oh, uh." Collins tried to remember the incidents of the past month. "I was at my Collage graduation, and.and I found out.I found out that.that I have.I have." He gulped. "I have AIDS."
"Oh, that's horrible." April replied.
Roger nodded. "Then what happened?"
"Well, you see, I was planning on going on a European vacation. Sort of as celebration."
"And you didn't end up going?" April asked. She finally took a gulp of the drink she was holding, then handed it to Roger.
"Oh, I went," Collins told them. "I went to all different countries, but not really caring. When I was in Greece, I got really drunk, and I." he trailed off for a second.
Roger took a drink from the bottle, and put it down.
Collins finished, "I ran naked through the Parthenon."
All of a sudden, April burst into hysterical giggles.
Roger looked dumbfounded. "What's-" he began, the he burst into laughter himself. He suddenly felt like this entire situation, as well as life in general, was completely hilarious.
Collins gave them both a strange look. "It wasn't that funny."
Then he looked at the fruit drink. "Where'd you get this?" he asked them.
"On the street," April replied between giggles.
Collins sighed.
Roger couldn't stop himself from laughing, not even for a second. It had been a long time since he'd had something like this, and every part of him was enjoying it again..
The laughter eventually faded into blackness.
A classroom. An English classroom, to be exact. The words "Congratulations Class of '89!" scrawled on the blackboard.
In this classroom, Roger Davis, yearbook in hand, got up to leave with the rest of the class when the bell had finally rung.
He was just about to put his first foot out into freedom, when Ms. Dell, the teacher, called, "Roger, will you stay for a second, please?"
Roger stayed frozen for a second with his foot poised halfway through the door already, then turned around and faced the teacher.
"What?" he asked.
She looked at him for a second before beginning to speak. "I'm sorry for what was happening with you earlier," she began. Roger looked at his feet. "But you really are quite a talented student."
Roger looked up sharply. "I am?" he asked.
She walked towards him. "You are quite a gifted poet." She smiled. "But it's strange, the way they're written is like-"
"A song." Roger finished.
The teacher raised an eyebrow.
"It's the only way I know how to write, Ms. Dell."
She nodded. "Very well," she said finally. "You may go."
Roger hesitated for a while, as if confused by the whole situation, then turned and left.
------------
A few days later Roger found himself walking. Not really anywhere in particular, just somewhere. Wherever his feet decided to take him.
His feet came to a halt right outside an old shop where something in the window caught his eye.
It was a guitar. Definitely not particularly special in any way, but it caught his eye nonetheless.
Roger used to have a guitar. Back before.. He shook the thought out of his head. It wasn't worth it.
A few minutes later, Roger had already gone inside, bought the guitar and was sitting on a nearby curb strumming it softly.
On a whim, he started picking up a melody on it, he started really getting into it when a voice interrupted him by saying, "You play that thing really well."
Roger stopped playing and looked up at the owner of the voice. It was a girl slightly tall, thin and beautiful, with a slight Hispanic look about her.
"Well, I didn't mean for you to stop," she complained.
She gave him a small, sultry smile and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Name's April," she told him. "You?"
"Huh?"
"Do those looks come with a name?" She smirked.
"Oh. Roger."
"Cool. Nice to meet you." She gave him a once-over. "Very nice."
Roger got up from his place on the curb. "You're not from around here." It was a statement.
She answered it anyway. "No, I'm not. And I probably won't be staying for long, either."
Roger nodded. "Where're you heading?"
"Wherever I feel like," April told him. "Probably New York."
Roger looked down the street as if not quite sure how to continue this conversation, or how to stop it. For some reason, he had the gut feeling that he wasn't going to stop it.
"Wanna come with?" April asked.
"Come with you to New York?" Roger questioned.
"That's what I said."
Roger considered this. This was a point in his life where he had a choice. He could go home, where his mother would be, probably with some guy who was just using her and being a total jerk until he finally left her for someone younger and more attractive. Life would continue in its usual cycle, and he would forget this mysterious girl who just happened upon his life. Or he could choose the other path. He could follow April, and his life would be opened up to new experiences, to the realm of the unexpected.
"Sure. I'll come."
"Good." She smiled again, enticing him.
Roger found himself smiling back at her. A thought struck him. "I have to stop someplace first," he said.
"No problem."
Roger walked as fast as his feet could carry him to the post office. He never looked behind him, but he could sense April following him. Hear the slight fall of her footsteps coming after his.
When he finally swept through the door, he could see April waiting just outside for him.
He took a postcard off the rack, paid for it, found a pen that he had stuck in his pants pocket, and hastily wrote out:
Mom,
I'm leaving. Probably to New York.
Roger
He looked it over before adding the word "love" before his name, and then adding, "I'll call."
He got a packet of stamps, put one on it, and walked outside and over to the mailbox, where he dropped it in.
He looked at April. "Lead on," he instructed.
----------
"So, how long have you been doing this for?"
Roger wasn't sure how to do this. He wasn't used to it, at least not as of late. That was the only thing he could come up with to say.
"What?" April asked him.
"Oh, you know.traveling."
"About a year," she answered him.
"How old are you?" He couldn't help but ask.
She laughed softly. "What's with the third degree?"
"Oh.. Forget it." Roger looked out the window of the bus they were in. Headed towards New York City.
"No, it's okay," April told him. "I'm sixteen."
Roger looked back at her and she paused before adding, "High School drop- out."
"Oh." Roger looked at the window again, then said, "I'm eighteen."
Part of him could hardly believe she was only sixteen.
Sixteen.
He let that thought fade out, not letting it reach a conclusion.
April's voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Just graduated?" she asked.
"Yeah." Roger hesitated, then said, "Almost didn't."
"At least you stuck it out," April told him. "Sometimes I wish I stayed in school. But I didn't, so I don't like to think about it." Her eyes glazed over for a second before refocusing. "I've got too many regrets to be wasting one on school," she said, almost under her breath.
Roger nodded. That made sense.
-------------
When they arrived in the city, they just wandered around, doing nothing in particular, but having fun at whatever they decided to do.
Finally, their wanderings took them to a place much less appealing to the eye.
April look at the crumbling buildings in distaste. "Ugh. I think we're in Alphabet City."
"Alphabet City?" Roger inquired.
"Oh, you know.. All these crooks and drug dealers." She looked at him sternly. "I don't do drugs," she told him forcefully.
"Right. Of course. Neither do I."
Roger let his mind wander backwards in time, back to a time where that statement would not have been true. He hadn't told April that that was the culprit for him almost not graduating from high school. Sometimes he himself couldn't believe that that had taken up a year and a half of his life. His thoughts went back to the end of Sophomore year. Sixteen.. He let the thought trail off once more.
April's eyes wandered over to where a man was selling some sort of fruit drink. It was bottled, so she didn't think that it would be spiked. "I'm parched," she complained aloud.
Roger spotted the man as well. "Me to."
After the drink was bought, April held it in her hand, but made no move to drink it. Instead, her eyes wandered over the street and she started walking. Roger followed her.
They stopped when they came to a spot where there was a person crumpled in a heap on the ground.
He got up as if he knew someone had approached him. It was a black man, probably in his early twenties, and very drunk.
The man staggered toward them, and stopped not far from them. He looked Roger up and down several times, gave him a goofy, drunken grin, and then collapsed on top of him.
--------------
When the man awoke, he was being looked upon by two people, one of which announced, "He's waking up."
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. "What-" he began. Then he fuzzily remembered what had happened. "Oh." He paused. "I'm sorry."
He looked at the two people staring at him, one girl and one guy.
After a moment's silence the guy spoke. "Who are you?" he asked.
Regaining his composure, and remembering his James Bond, he replied, "Collins. Tom Collins."
Roger, not really in the state of getting it, said, "Okay, Collins. I'm Roger, and this is April."
Collins decided to forget Roger's misunderstanding. He wanted to start over, didn't he? Might as well be called something different. "Hi."
"So, what brings you here?" April asked.
"Oh, uh." Collins tried to remember the incidents of the past month. "I was at my Collage graduation, and.and I found out.I found out that.that I have.I have." He gulped. "I have AIDS."
"Oh, that's horrible." April replied.
Roger nodded. "Then what happened?"
"Well, you see, I was planning on going on a European vacation. Sort of as celebration."
"And you didn't end up going?" April asked. She finally took a gulp of the drink she was holding, then handed it to Roger.
"Oh, I went," Collins told them. "I went to all different countries, but not really caring. When I was in Greece, I got really drunk, and I." he trailed off for a second.
Roger took a drink from the bottle, and put it down.
Collins finished, "I ran naked through the Parthenon."
All of a sudden, April burst into hysterical giggles.
Roger looked dumbfounded. "What's-" he began, the he burst into laughter himself. He suddenly felt like this entire situation, as well as life in general, was completely hilarious.
Collins gave them both a strange look. "It wasn't that funny."
Then he looked at the fruit drink. "Where'd you get this?" he asked them.
"On the street," April replied between giggles.
Collins sighed.
Roger couldn't stop himself from laughing, not even for a second. It had been a long time since he'd had something like this, and every part of him was enjoying it again..
The laughter eventually faded into blackness.