Freddy slowed down as he approached his red brick house, pulling the
headphones off his ears and turning the music down low. He took a few deep
breaths and slicked back his hair a little more. His mom liked to fuss over
him when he got home, so he figured if he was clean and un-fussable when he
got home, she wouldn't do anything. He walked inside, and was greeted by
his Yellow Labrador. Just as he was about to kick off his shoes, his mother
came down the stairs.
"Don't take those off, Freddy, we've gotta go to the pharmacy to pick up your pills. You took the last one this morning." His mother instructed. Freddy threw in his hands up in the air and sighed.
"Whatever!"
The car ride to the pharmacy was one of the loudest ones that both mother and son had ever gone through. Freddy insisted on listening to his music, drumming along to every song on his CD that Mr. S had so willingly lent to him. By the time they drove into the parking lot for Clark's Pharmacy, Mrs. Jones had a headache. She thanked her lucky stars that she was going someplace that sold drugs. As in, pain relievers. Which meant she could cure the headache as fast as she got it. Clark's Pharmacy was one of the mom-and-pop stores around, but the Jones's had relied on it since Freddy's father was a child. Freddy and his mother stood in line at the window to pick up Freddy's Ritalin after Mrs. Jones had to take Freddy's CD player away from him. If she heard AC/DC anymore, she thought her head might explode. Freddy began to get bored. He tapped his fingers, started drumming on a shelf next to him that carried herbal supplements until he knocked down a few bottles and his mother scolded him. Again. Then, Freddy zoned in on a girl and her mother in front of him in line.
"Mom, what're my pills for again?" The girl asked.
"It's called insomnia." Her mom replied, patting her daughters head.
"Ah, you mean, me not sleeping."
"Yes. That's right."
"Mom, I don't have insomnia. I stay up late and I sleep in class." The girl grinned and laughed. Freddy laughed too. He didn't know this girl. She didn't go to Horace Green. In fact, he had never seen her in his life. A quick study of her backpack revealed to Freddy that she was a public school kid. And the school's mascot was a cougar. He squinted closer to read the text below the giant maroon and gold animal, but the girl started shifting around, and then went over to a shelf of cough drops, and began reading the back of the package. She leaned her body so her backpack was facing away from Freddy, and now he got a good look at her face. She was a bit shorter than Freddy, with long chocolate brown hair and a few handfuls of freckles on either side of her face. There was nothing extraordinary about her. She was wearing jeans that were torn up at the bottom and an oversized black t-shirt with a fading imprint of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Freddy laughed again, which caused the girl to look up. They stared at each other for a millisecond and then Freddy quickly looked away as if nothing had happened. Freddy didn't study the girl at all anymore as he stood in line with his mother. That is, until Mrs. Jones had reached the pharmacists window. Freddy was drumming on the counter, but stopped as he heard a voice echo throughout Clark's Pharmacy.
"Dolly! Come on!" Freddy scrunched up his nose. Dolly? Who in their right mind would name their kid Dolly? And at that moment, the girl with the insomnia from before appeared from behind a stack of newspapers, and ran down the waiting line towards the door.
The next few couple days flew by quickly, creating musical fusion every day. He would stay after class and watch old tapes that Mr. S provided of drummers like Ringo Starr playing a full set like there was no tomorrow. Since Mr. S had provided Freddy with a full drum set and plenty of time to practice, he quickly became good. It was a relief for his mother as well because there were many days where Freddy would come home and collapse on his bed, listening to the Hawaii 5 0 drum solo in his CD player again and again. There were no more fires to have to put out in the back yard right before dinner, anymore. Then the days started narrowing down until the big gig. Their Woodstock. The Battle of the Bands. Sure, the entire 5th grade class had to fake a terminal illness, but it got them booked. There was only a week and a half left until The Battle of The Bands, and the band was down to crunch time. That morning, as Freddy crawled out of bed and threw hair gel into his hair, he stared down at a piece of paper that was sitting on his desk. It had a list of albums he made sure he would have to buy off of Mr. S, or download off the internet. Scrunching his nose up in his normal, confused Freddy way, he picked up the paper and looked at it. There in the corner of the paper was a doodle of a cougar's head he didn't remember drawing. Shrugging, he quickly got dressed in his uniform for school and headed toward the bus, pulling a Ritalin pill out of his pocket and chasing it with a bottle of Mountain Dew. He made sure he put the Ritalin in his pocket after his escapade yesterday. In the rush to get to school, Freddy had forgotten to take his medicine and had a horrible rehearsal, slamming down on the drum set so hard he had not only broken two sets of drum sticks, but also nearly exposing the band to Miss Mullins. That day, Freddy sat tapping his drumsticks against his flame incrusted doodle desk, with his "body guard" Frankie and Zack. Pink Floyd's infamous trippy movie "The Wall" was playing at the front of the class, but nobody was paying attention. Freddy shifted in his chair and threw his drumstick forward and it hit the chalkboard. Mr. S jumped out of his chair, where he had almost been napping. The class laughed.
"Dammit, Freddy, can't you keep still?!" Mr. S barked, pressing his hands against his forehead.
"Nope." Freddy said in his typical smart-ass way. Mr. S got up and began walking toward the back of the room to pull out the instruments again. It was time to rock. The kids all got up and began to take their battle positions, chattering amongst themselves. Summer sat in her desk, though, scratching her head with a confused look on her face. The movie had made her completely lost. Freddy pulled a new drumstick from inside his desk and looked at his two friends.
"Hey, do either of you guys know a school around here that's mascot is a cougar?" Zack and Frankie looked hard, and then shook their heads.
"Oh, I do." Mr. S said as he opened the closet doors that held the massive silver drum kit. "I went to a school that had a cougar. K-12 school. It was horrible. The Covington Lion School." Mr. S almost spit in disgust. Zack looked at Freddy.
"Why?"
"Nothin' really. Just wondering. Saw some chick with it pinned to her backpack and I had never seen it before."
"Freddy, you do go to a private school after all." Marco said as he passed by, slinging some cords over his shoulder.
"Yeah, you're right, Marco." He said, throwing a staple at Marco's bright red head. Not another word was spoken about the school for another eight days.
"Don't take those off, Freddy, we've gotta go to the pharmacy to pick up your pills. You took the last one this morning." His mother instructed. Freddy threw in his hands up in the air and sighed.
"Whatever!"
The car ride to the pharmacy was one of the loudest ones that both mother and son had ever gone through. Freddy insisted on listening to his music, drumming along to every song on his CD that Mr. S had so willingly lent to him. By the time they drove into the parking lot for Clark's Pharmacy, Mrs. Jones had a headache. She thanked her lucky stars that she was going someplace that sold drugs. As in, pain relievers. Which meant she could cure the headache as fast as she got it. Clark's Pharmacy was one of the mom-and-pop stores around, but the Jones's had relied on it since Freddy's father was a child. Freddy and his mother stood in line at the window to pick up Freddy's Ritalin after Mrs. Jones had to take Freddy's CD player away from him. If she heard AC/DC anymore, she thought her head might explode. Freddy began to get bored. He tapped his fingers, started drumming on a shelf next to him that carried herbal supplements until he knocked down a few bottles and his mother scolded him. Again. Then, Freddy zoned in on a girl and her mother in front of him in line.
"Mom, what're my pills for again?" The girl asked.
"It's called insomnia." Her mom replied, patting her daughters head.
"Ah, you mean, me not sleeping."
"Yes. That's right."
"Mom, I don't have insomnia. I stay up late and I sleep in class." The girl grinned and laughed. Freddy laughed too. He didn't know this girl. She didn't go to Horace Green. In fact, he had never seen her in his life. A quick study of her backpack revealed to Freddy that she was a public school kid. And the school's mascot was a cougar. He squinted closer to read the text below the giant maroon and gold animal, but the girl started shifting around, and then went over to a shelf of cough drops, and began reading the back of the package. She leaned her body so her backpack was facing away from Freddy, and now he got a good look at her face. She was a bit shorter than Freddy, with long chocolate brown hair and a few handfuls of freckles on either side of her face. There was nothing extraordinary about her. She was wearing jeans that were torn up at the bottom and an oversized black t-shirt with a fading imprint of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Freddy laughed again, which caused the girl to look up. They stared at each other for a millisecond and then Freddy quickly looked away as if nothing had happened. Freddy didn't study the girl at all anymore as he stood in line with his mother. That is, until Mrs. Jones had reached the pharmacists window. Freddy was drumming on the counter, but stopped as he heard a voice echo throughout Clark's Pharmacy.
"Dolly! Come on!" Freddy scrunched up his nose. Dolly? Who in their right mind would name their kid Dolly? And at that moment, the girl with the insomnia from before appeared from behind a stack of newspapers, and ran down the waiting line towards the door.
The next few couple days flew by quickly, creating musical fusion every day. He would stay after class and watch old tapes that Mr. S provided of drummers like Ringo Starr playing a full set like there was no tomorrow. Since Mr. S had provided Freddy with a full drum set and plenty of time to practice, he quickly became good. It was a relief for his mother as well because there were many days where Freddy would come home and collapse on his bed, listening to the Hawaii 5 0 drum solo in his CD player again and again. There were no more fires to have to put out in the back yard right before dinner, anymore. Then the days started narrowing down until the big gig. Their Woodstock. The Battle of the Bands. Sure, the entire 5th grade class had to fake a terminal illness, but it got them booked. There was only a week and a half left until The Battle of The Bands, and the band was down to crunch time. That morning, as Freddy crawled out of bed and threw hair gel into his hair, he stared down at a piece of paper that was sitting on his desk. It had a list of albums he made sure he would have to buy off of Mr. S, or download off the internet. Scrunching his nose up in his normal, confused Freddy way, he picked up the paper and looked at it. There in the corner of the paper was a doodle of a cougar's head he didn't remember drawing. Shrugging, he quickly got dressed in his uniform for school and headed toward the bus, pulling a Ritalin pill out of his pocket and chasing it with a bottle of Mountain Dew. He made sure he put the Ritalin in his pocket after his escapade yesterday. In the rush to get to school, Freddy had forgotten to take his medicine and had a horrible rehearsal, slamming down on the drum set so hard he had not only broken two sets of drum sticks, but also nearly exposing the band to Miss Mullins. That day, Freddy sat tapping his drumsticks against his flame incrusted doodle desk, with his "body guard" Frankie and Zack. Pink Floyd's infamous trippy movie "The Wall" was playing at the front of the class, but nobody was paying attention. Freddy shifted in his chair and threw his drumstick forward and it hit the chalkboard. Mr. S jumped out of his chair, where he had almost been napping. The class laughed.
"Dammit, Freddy, can't you keep still?!" Mr. S barked, pressing his hands against his forehead.
"Nope." Freddy said in his typical smart-ass way. Mr. S got up and began walking toward the back of the room to pull out the instruments again. It was time to rock. The kids all got up and began to take their battle positions, chattering amongst themselves. Summer sat in her desk, though, scratching her head with a confused look on her face. The movie had made her completely lost. Freddy pulled a new drumstick from inside his desk and looked at his two friends.
"Hey, do either of you guys know a school around here that's mascot is a cougar?" Zack and Frankie looked hard, and then shook their heads.
"Oh, I do." Mr. S said as he opened the closet doors that held the massive silver drum kit. "I went to a school that had a cougar. K-12 school. It was horrible. The Covington Lion School." Mr. S almost spit in disgust. Zack looked at Freddy.
"Why?"
"Nothin' really. Just wondering. Saw some chick with it pinned to her backpack and I had never seen it before."
"Freddy, you do go to a private school after all." Marco said as he passed by, slinging some cords over his shoulder.
"Yeah, you're right, Marco." He said, throwing a staple at Marco's bright red head. Not another word was spoken about the school for another eight days.
