COURTING DISASTER

By Erico and Shadows59

Chapter 7: The Kids KISS

Cleveland National Forest, Southern California

June 15th, 1996 C.E.

5:15 P.M.

If there was one thing that dad's strange phobia to living in a house after mom had died was good for, it was the fact that his 'Rustbucket' could go anywhere and bring most of the amenities of home with him. Carl Tennyson had to chuckle at that, because there was nothing like a plate of spaghetti in the wilderness. Coming out camping with the whole family wasn't something he'd planned on doing, it just sort of happened. Like most things usually did, it had spiraled out from one idea and gotten bigger.

Ben was eight years old and Carl had figured he was old enough to go to his first rock concert. As soon as he'd heard about one of the bands that he and Frank had listened to when they were kids reuniting for a tour, he'd called in to get tickets for the first show in California. He'd almost stopped at getting three, but then something had stopped him. The same thing that always did whenever he was talking with Sandy Bear about doing something fun for their son.

Wouldn't he ask if Gwen could come along?

It was the worst kept secret in their world that Gwen wasn't going back into ballet when school started up in the fall again. Ben was teaching Gwen the moves he picked up in karate and everyone pretended that they didn't notice. Unless something big was going on, the kids usually spent at least a part of Saturday doing something together, either with one set of parents or Grandpa if nobody else was free. At the Parent/Teacher conferences in the spring, their teacher had even scheduled Ben and Gwen's next to each other - and then combined them when they all showed up together anyways. She got a free 20 minutes out of the deal before her next kid, and Carl figured she needed the coffee break.

He'd given it all of three seconds of hard thinking before he sighed, resolved he'd have a little bit more on his credit card bill that month, and bought a fourth ticket to the show before it sold out. Which it did. In less than an hour, according to MTV. He told Sandy, and Sandy told Lili, and then Lili had told Frank. And Frank, to his surprise, had mentioned it to dad one of the times that their old man came over to help them figure out a puddle of water in Frank's basement that turned out to be a rusted valve coming off the back of the washing machine.

"Well hell, son, that's a bit of a drive back and forth, clear on the other side of Los Angeles. And that concert's probably going to run late, so either you'd be staying someplace or you'd be dead on your feet for the drive back." Their dad had said while he wrapped some plumber's tape around the threads of the new brass fitting. "You know, I was thinking about heading down this summer and catching up with my sister Vera. We could meet up at one of the national parks down there on my drive back up. You two could take a few more days off and bring the girls and my grandkids with you. That way, instead of having to put up for a hotel or drive all night to get back, you could just turn back around and head south for an hour." It had seemed like a nice idea, and Carl thought it made a lot of sense, but Frank had pointed out that he and Lili didn't exactly have a lot of camping equipment. All their father had done was smile and tell them to leave it to him.

Max really had taken care of everything, from maps of the campgrounds to supply lists of what to pack 'just in case', and even the permit to one of the bigger campsites where they could park the Rustbucket and their cars without causing too much trouble. The tents that he'd pulled out from somewhere in Aunt Vera's garage full of junk were old, but big, and they worked out well. The first night had seen the camp swarmed with bugs until Max started hanging up little bags of potpourri that smelled a little like citron candles, and then all the little critters had cleared out. He'd taken the kids for a nature hike that morning after breakfast to give Carl and Frank and their wives a chance to really relax even. And the best part of the trip, the reason for it even happening, was still coming up tonight.

Of course the kids were still bouncing like grasshoppers. They'd be bouncing off the walls if they had walls too, and Carl wondered where they found the energy. Had he and Frank ever been as energetic when they were kids, or did Ben and Gwen just pull on a different source of it altogether?

"Geez, save some for tonight you two." He joked, hoping that they'd listen. "You're supposed to make noise at these shows."

"I remember my first rock concert." Max chuckled, slowly shaking his head as he put a leg over his knee in his lawn chair. "I also remember Frank's first rock concert."

"Daddy was at a rock concert?" Gwen blurted out, stopping fast enough that Ben stumbled to keep from bumping into her. They'd been chasing after each other playing keep-away with Ben's teddy bear as the object in question. How they hadn't torn it apart yet was surprising. The fur'd gotten matted and packed down, but the seams were still good on it.

Frank shifted in his own lawn chair and swirled around his can of diet soda. "One or two. But the one your grandpa's talking about I don't remember."

"Of course you wouldn't." Max grinned, giving his grandchildren a wink. "Heck, Carl wasn't even born yet. We were visiting my family in upstate New York and there was this music festival playing a few miles over on Mr. Yasgur's land, so Verdona and I took Frank for a visit. That was one wild concert…" Max's voice trailed off and he sighed. "Good thing we were able to call in those helicopters from Stewart to get folks in and out, or it would've been a nightmare. But that music…" The old man's smile was back and he chuckled. "Ah, Verdona loved it. Later, anyways. There was some kind of magic at that festival, even for all its problems. And now it's history, so even if you don't remember it, Frank, you can tell people you were there." Max paused, reflected, then chuckled. "Well. I guess you both were."

Carl blinked, thought it over, and - oh. Yeah. Maybe he had been there. He just hadn't been born yet.

"Anyhow." Carl coughed, pulling the kids' attention back to him. "We'll stop and get a bite to eat on the drive in, but there are a couple of ground rules. We want you two to have fun, but we also want to make sure you stay safe, right?" Their heads bounced up and down in agreement, and he grinned. "Right. First rule, no wandering off. If you see something interesting, you get our attention and we'll go with you." Like the stands where they sold cassette tapes and CDs and T-Shirts. And just maybe someone would have a bootlegged copy of Phantom of The Park for sale…Well. That was his splurge buy if he found it, but Frank and Max had already handed over some money in case the kids wanted to get a T-Shirt or a keychain. "Second rule is that if you need to use the bathroom, one of us goes with you. There's going to be a lot of people there and it'll be easy to get lost. And the third rule. Once we get there, we're going to pick a spot where we'll meet up in case we get split up." Which was not going to be a problem, Sandy had already promised a nervous Lili she'd be sticking to Gwen like glue, and Carl had Ben to look after. Their 'rally point' as Dad called it would be if their paired-up groups couldn't make it back to their seats for some reason.

"We promise." Ben said, and Gwen nodded in agreement.

"Sounds like you've got it all worked out." Frank said approvingly.

"Well, as good as we can." Carl shrugged. "And this isn't a full performance either, it's just a warmup show. But that might be better for the kids. A full two or two and a half hour concert might be too much."

Max chuckled. "Maybe. But they'll have fun. Just like you will. And tomorrow, we'll handle things so you two can relax and recover. You just forgot one thing."

"We did?" Sandy asked, worried. "We've packed water bottles and sunscreen, and that second bag phone you brought along…"

"No, no. Your emergency kit's fine." Max cut her off, grinning. He reached to his hiking backpack and dug around inside of it, then pulled out a small plastic box and chucked it at Carl. Carl caught it and gave it a look, surprised. A box of multiple pairs of bright yellow…

"Earplugs?" Carl mused, and Max laughed. Well, it made sense. "Good thinking, dad."

"Once a boy scout, always a boy scout." Max Tennyson shrugged. "You kids have fun. We'll see you when you get back."

- o - o - o - o - o -

Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre, Parking Lot

Irvine, California (South of Anaheim)

7:15 P.M.

Cheeseburgers were cheeseburgers anywhere you went, Carl had learned. The traffic was as crazy as he'd expected it to be, but Lili had talked the kids through talking quietly on the drive so he could focus on the road and the traffic. For the first part of the drive before the interstate got full, he played one of the old mixtapes he'd made for his Sandy Bear back in college when he'd been trying to impress her, and told them all he knew about the rock band that put on face paint and dressed up like superheroes. He had to laugh when he thought of how he'd looked at the kids in his rearview mirror and how wide Ben's eyes had gotten. Even Gwen, who was a little bit calmer than her cousin on most days, had the same look on her face.

Superheroes who did rock and roll. Nagging from church groups aside, (Like he and Sandy Bear ever listened to those) it was easy to see why those four were so famous. And once they were in the parking lot and settled, that's when he popped the back hatch and Sandy told them about the extra surprise that they had planned.

If you go to a KISS concert, you get to put on the makeup just like the band.

"Lemme see! Lemme see!" He heard Gwen squeak from the back of the van, and then Sandra's laugh answered it. Carl grinned and turned back away, feeling the cord from the bag phone hit the side of his arm as he tucked the receiver against his head a little tighter.

"Sounds like she's having fun." Frank teased him.

"Yeah, and the show hasn't even started yet. Right now Sandra's giving the kids their face paint. They got to pick."

"Oh? And what did Gwen go with?"

"The Catman."

Frank busted out laughing. "I could have guessed. There's this new kid's show she likes that uses cats in it. Shame she got stuck with mom's allergies, I wouldn't have minded keeping a furball around the house. What about you? Did Sandra work a little artistic license on you?"

"Of course. Someone had to go first to show the kids what it looked like."

"Lemme guess. You went with Simmons' look, didn't you?"

Carl stuck his tongue out and waved it around, the thing that 'The Demon' was known for in their shows. One of the things, anyways. "You think you know everything, don't you big brother?"

"Nah. I just know you." Frank joked. "Glad to hear from you. Call when you're on your way back, all right?"

"Will do. Enjoy the night off." Frank laughed again and hung up. Carl sighed and put the receiver back on the bag's hook, then powered it down and closed it up again. He slung it over his shoulder and then double-checked his wallet to make sure the tickets were there, and not in the glovebox where they'd been sitting for months now. Satisfied at finding them, he hit the automatic lock and shut the driver's door. "Okay! How are we looking, Sandy Bear?"

"Almost done!" His wife and his best friend cheerfully declared. "Come have a look!"

He walked around to the rear gate and found Sandy sitting half inside of the van and half out, while Ben sat beside her and did his level best not to squirm. He'd heard her call him out on it multiple times in the past five minutes, and if Gwen hadn't been there bossing him around too it might've been a lost cause. Still, it was nice to know that his boy knew how to listen to his cousin. Maybe that was something else Gwen had gotten from Mom, like the cat allergy.

Sometimes, Carl forgot just how good his Sandy Bear was with a pencil or a paintbrush. Working odd hours down at the art gallery in Bellwood helped to cover incidental expenses, but it gave her a chance to keep a foot in one of the things she'd really loved doing in College. When he saw Gwen's Catman facepaint fully rendered, he missed a step before his grin came back full force. And seeing Ben's Spaceman face, even half finished? He had to say something.

"Sandy, in case I've forgotten to tell you lately, you're a wonderful artist." He blurted out. Gwen giggled at his awkward compliment, and Sandy paused in her work to look up at him with a raised eyebrow and a demure smile.

"Flatterer. But I've done yours already. Now if Ben would hold still, we could finish this up, but he's a little wiggly worm tonight."

"Ben!" Gwen hissed his name and stomped her little foot onto the asphalt. "Hold still!" His boy let out a groan but stopped moving, and let Sandy finish her work with a few more steady flourishes of her brush.

"Done!"

"Lemme see!" Gwen blurted out, tugging on Ben's arm until he finally turned around so she could get a good look at him. She was grinning in under a second. "Oh, yeah. That looks good, Aunt Sandy!"

"Why thank you Gwen." Carl's wife beamed, and she held up a mirror so Ben could look at himself.

"Wow." Their boy said, laughing. "This is crazy. I look so different!"

"Yeah! Your outside finally matches your inside!" Gwen crowed, and Ben squawked. Carl couldn't help himself, he started laughing just as hard as Sandy did.

"Hey!" Ben sputtered, glaring Gwen down. The makeup accentuated the effect, and made his scowl legendary. Carl cut off the argument by rubbing Ben's hair, getting another squawk from the boy.

"You don't look any sillier than Gwen or your old man does." He pointed out. "Okay kids. If we're all set, let's head inside, hit the bathroom and then find our seats. We might wanna catch the warmup act."

- o - o - o - o - o -

9:14 P.M.

As it turned out, the band they'd come out to see was the final act in what had been an all-day music event sponsored by a local rock station. The last act before the facepainted kings of hard rock took the stage was a band that Carl had never heard of, and he and Sandy shared a confused glance as they mouthed - ...Chili Peppers? - back and forth to each other. But the music was good, and it wasn't all headbanging hair band music like Carl had jammed to in the 80's. Some of the songs they played were mellow, although they did play a track or two from the headliner's discography. Carl was glad that Dad had sent along earplugs too; they'd had the kids roll them up and slide them in before they got to their seats, and it definitely muffled the high-end squealing.

The smell of marijuana and cigarette smoke hung lightly in the air, and the seating of the outdoor theater was built so that the stage sat at the bottom of a sloped hill with all the seats set in a bowl around and facing it. All things considered, the crowd was a lot more mellow than either of them had first predicted. Everyone was happy and in a good mood and willing to get along. Carl made small talk with the couple next to him, a pair of tattooed bikers called the Hansens who talked fondly about how they met at a KISS concert back in the 70's and never looked back. Their daughter was in college now, aiming to be an X-Ray technician. The Hansens even bought Ben and Gwen a couple of 7-Ups from the concession stand after Lili took a Polaroid of them with the camera that she'd brought along in case they wanted to snap some memories.

And there was dancing. Dancing and swaying in place down in the front, dancing in the aisles. Nobody danced in the seats, thankfully, they just sat back and enjoyed. With the kids cheering and humming along between them, Carl reached a hand up over the back of their seats to squeeze Sandy's hand as she looked back at him and smiled. He found himself relaxing and just enjoying the moment. Everything was right with the world, the kids were having a good time, and his Sandy Bear was glowing. Did it get any better than this?

Carl should have remembered not to tempt fate as the sun went down and the stage crew finished tearing down and setting up for the last act of the night. The stage lights which had been at minimal all went dark, and the dull hum of the crowd rose to a roar of anticipation.

"It's happening!" Carl warned Ben and Gwen, as electrified as everyone else was. "Get ready, kids, they're coming out!"

The emcee bellowed into his microphone while a bass guitar's low note hung in the air. "Allll right, IRVINE! You wanted the best, you GOT the best! The hottest band in the world, KISS!" The lights came up and there the band was, jamming away at the top of their set.

- o - o - o - o - o -

Of course it could get better.

Carl had been expecting a performance that might be a little shaky. Anyone who'd ever been at a live concert would be the first to tell you not to expect a perfect, note-for-note replication of what the band could pull off in a studio over multiple takes. There were spots where Paul Stanley's voice was a little rough and broke where it didn't on his old records or on the cassette tapes. There were parts where a word was lost because of the need to breathe, or a lyric came out rushed. But that was the fun of a live concert. If you wanted perfect, you bought the tape at The Wall and called it a day. This was done with no retakes, no real choreography, no lip-synching, just four guys pouring their hearts out in front of thousands of screaming fans.

But the feeling in the air...there was nothing like it. It prickled on his skin like electricity, it made everything feel more real than any concert he'd ever been in. He could have sworn that he saw colors in the flashing lights up on stage, flickers of green and blue and purple that phased in and out of existence faster than he could focus on. The band's lightshow was phenomenal, and that wasn't including the flaming guitar or the fake blood spitting from Gene Simmons. All of it in good fun, just like the costumes and the makeup. When KISS performed, you came for more than the music. You came for the show. He just couldn't get over those lights. Everything else he'd been expecting, they'd told the kids about just in case they did it. He'd been expecting Gwen to maybe get a little sick when Gene Simmons did the blood thing. She didn't, and that surprised him. Those lights, though, they seemed to be everywhere, dancing in and out of existence. What kind of wild setup were the special effects guys using to point a spotlight out into the stands and get that kind of a strobe that didn't leave everyone half-blind?

It kept getting better too. The band got sharper as the songs rolled by, like something in how the audience responded made their fingers steadier and their voices more resonant. It was the first time that Peter Criss and Ace Frehley were back with the band on tour in nearly two decades, and they were hitting it. By the time they got to Detroit Rock City, there was no hesitation in their moves, in their licks, and in the steady driving beat of the drum set. And the only thing holding Paul Stanley back was the air in his lungs, or lack of it. But they didn't falter once.

The only thing better than watching the band was looking down to Ben and Gwen as they bounced in their seats with those big excited eyes of theirs, making happy noises and humming along when there was a song that they'd listened to on the drive up. And they didn't let go of each other's hand the entire time, which he found cute. By the time that the band hit the end of their set and the last song, they had the audience singing along. And while neither of the kids could sing all that well (Poor Gwen tried, she really did), they screamed the words as loud as anyone else.

The song ended. The show ended. Everyone who hadn't been standing already got to their feet and kept cheering and whistling and clapping as the band took a bow and the kids started jumping up and down on their bleachers. It was nearly a minute before the audience finally let the energy of the standing ovation die down and started to filter out, and Carl slumped into his seat with a weak laugh as Ben started tugging on his arm.

"Dad, that was awesome! So awesome! You said we could get T-shirts, right? We need a T-Shirt!"

"Why's that, Ben?" He asked.

"So we can prove to people we were here!" Gwen piped in gleefully. Sandy broke out laughing at that, and the biker couple next to Carl cackled as well.

"Their first rock show." Mr. Hansen said, puffing out his chest pridefully. "Ah, there's nothing like it. Well, the Missus and I had better be off. Thanks for the photo, Missus Tennyson."

"You're welcome." Sandra nodded back at the man and his wife. "And thank you for giving the kids sodas."

"You come to a show like this, you scream a lot." Mrs. Hansen winked at Ben and Gwen. "Screaming's thirsty work. Now promise me that you two will be good for your parents on the drive back home now." Carl opened his mouth to correct them, but fell silent when he thought about it. Even though Gwen wasn't their daughter anymore than Ben was Frank and Lili's son, they spent so much time together that it was almost a moot point. While the kids bobbed their heads agreeably, Carl shook his and stuck out his hand. "You take care of yourself, Lou."

Louis Hansen shook it. "You too, Carl. You've got a great family."

"Most days." Carl amended, giving Sandra and the kids a wink over his shoulder. The Hansens left with the first rush of the crowd, and Carl happily let them go. "Don't worry kids, we'll get those T-Shirts. We're just gonna let things quiet down a little first." Sandy happily agreed with the suggestion, and they gave it another ten minutes before the throng had cleared out enough that they were able to make their way up to the vendor's area without much trouble.

They ended up picking out four shirts, one for each of them with the tour's name and dates on the back and a band portrait on the front. And Ben and Gwen stubbornly refused to let him buy their shirts - they had the money from Frank and Max and they were going to use it, darnit! As a splurge, Carl even picked up a CD for his brother, who had a Bose CD player at their house. After a quick bathroom stop, they made their way back out to the van and started it up for the drive back home.

True to his word, Carl handed over their bag phone to Sandra so she could turn it on and give Frank and Lili and Dad a call. While Carl got them out of the parking lot and maneuvered back towards the highway, Sandra finished summing things up (The concert was great, the kids were bouncier than a bounce castle, everyone was fine and they were on their way back) while Ben and Gwen kept chattering to each other in the back, making fake guitar noises and talking about the show.

Good lord, they'd never quit. He found himself looking over to Sandra with a worried eyebrow. If they were like this the entire drive back, he and Sandy would both be fried. Then Sandy blinked, and got a look in her eye that Carl knew all too well. His beautiful wife had an idea.

"Say, Frank, how about I let your daughter tell you herself so you can get it straight from the horse's mouth?" And then she handed the bag phone to the middle seat where the kids were, stretching the power cable plugged into the cigarette lighter almost as far as it would go.

Ben dutifully took the bag while Gwen's hands scrambled for the receiver, which she tucked to her chin. "Daddy! Daddy, it was so awesome! We had cheeseburgers and then when we got here, Aunt Sandy did face paint for all of us, and then…"

Carl allowed himself a small chuckle as he focused back on the road, but he stuck his free hand out to the side for his wife to grab onto. "Nice thinking." Sandra took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. With any luck, they'd wear themselves out. Or at least Gwen would wear herself out, and Ben would calm down after.

Almost 20 miles down the road later, Gwen's energy finally dipped enough that she wasn't squeaking every eighth word and Ben stopped contributing details of his own, and they both ended up yawning at the same time. Frank said something that Carl couldn't hear, and then Gwen mumbled an, "Okay, daddy. Love you too," before she put the phone back on its hook and held it up for Sandy to grab. Once she'd turned the cellular phone off and put it up on the dash, Sandy reached down to the radio and turned it on, dialing it until she found a station playing soft jazz music with a lyrical piano and saxophone.

"I'm glad you two had fun." She said, smiling at the backseat. "Once we get back to camp, we'll have to get all your faces cleaned off. Yours too, mister." She added, pointedly staring over at Carl. He huffed and turned his eyes back on the road, keeping an eye on the kids in the rearview mirror.

Sandy was some kind of a genius when it came to handling Ben on a road trip. Between the darkness outside, the crash that came when the adrenaline from the concert wore off, and the smooth jazz on the radio, it wasn't long before Ben's eyes were drooping shut and he was nodding off. So was Gwen for that matter, and the two of them ended up leaning in towards each other, smushing Furry Freddy between them as a makeshift pillow.

"I love you." Carl said quietly, once he felt safe enough in the silence to test the waters. He got no reaction from either of the kids, and Sandy hummed in agreement. "I'm glad we did this."

"I'm glad that you went ahead and got that fourth ticket when you did." Sandra added with a smirk. "They really do everything together, don't they?"

"Yeah. That'll change." Carl sighed. "Once they get older and make some new friends, and get interested in different things. That's why it's good to make memories now. You get a lot of pictures?"

"Ran the photo pack dry." She nodded, patting her purse. "I've got some really good ones for their albums." He nodded, and they enjoyed the peace and quiet for another mile. When Sandra spoke, he was almost surprised. "Did Max and Verdona ever…?"

"What, take me and Frank to a concert?" He finished, and she nodded. "No." Carl said. "Dad was always busy with his plumbing job. It seemed to take him everywhere but home. By the time that he got around to trying, Frank and I had moved on. We didn't listen to the Dead, or Van Morrison, or Shag Carpeting or the Beach Boys. We had our own bands." He found his mind drifting back to his own childhood, about the bands that he and Frank had listened to growing up. Judas Priest and Alice Cooper and Pink Floyd and KISS...their own form of minor rebellion against a father who talked up his own music, but was never around to share it. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I know that Ben will have his own bands, his own music he listens to. But I wanted to do what Ma - what our father never did. I wanted to share mine with him, before he got around to deciding to hate it. And who knows? Maybe having Gwen here for this will convince her it's okay to listen to more than just the classical music that Lili tries to get her to focus on all the time."

"You're a good father, and a good uncle." Sandra said to him firmly. And maybe he needed to hear that.

"So are you." He added back, and she giggled, which made his face purple. "Oh, you know what I mean, Sandy Bear."

"Yes, I do. But I do love teasing you. Now get us back to the camp so we can take care of the kids...and work on sleeping in."

It was a plan he could get behind, as tired as he felt. But it was a good kind of tired. He'd gotten the chance to share something special with his son, and his niece as well. This was what a vacation was meant for. Sharing something he loved with the people he loved, and making good memories in the process.

Maybe the kids would look back years from now when they were all grown up and remember this fondly as well. At least the T-Shirts would help.

- o - o - o - o - o -

Bellwood, California

July 28th, 1996 C.E.

All vacations came to an end, and there was plenty of work to be done back in Bellwood. His job as a Senior Engineer in the Public Works Department meant that he got to go out and have fun with the other agents in the field, thankfully. Maybe in a few years, if Director Kentworth stepped down he'd move up into the role that would see him stuck in an office and going to all the city hall meetings and mayoral briefings. For now, though, his place was somewhere in between, training and leading the other mid-level supervisors as they did everything from sewer and water maintenance to electricity and even keeping the lawns mowed in the parks. And road maintenance. So much road maintenance.

It also meant looking over the calendars for final approval of the fall repairs, which the director had handed over to him this year. It wasn't like he was the only one getting tested; Saylor got to try and put together the spring calendar and Dunmeade had put together the summer calendar's first drafts. Of course, Kentworth had taken their proposals and made some tweaks before finalizing it, so now that it was Carl's turn to take a crack at it, he planned on putting one together that would have no mistakes at all.

Of course, as he sat in his cramped office with its five filing cabinets and a posterboard full of seasonal job positions and Post-Its of who the summer crew was and their availability, that was a task easier said than done. He could usually tune out distractions, but his head kept turning back to things at home. More specifically, Ben.

It wasn't that his boy was getting in trouble or anything like that. No, he and Gwen had been as busy and hyperactive as ever, Sandy and Lili kept him informed. They'd go outdoors and play tag or throw a frisbee with each other or one or two of their friends, and Ben had been spending more time since the 4th of July working Gwen through his karate moves. Carl was convinced that by the time school started up again and Gwen finally joined her cousin for after-school classes, she'd be ready to graduate from her starting belt in two weeks or less. As much as she liked him, she refused to let him hold anything over her head, and that was all too familiar territory for Carl when he thought back to growing up with Frank.

What had changed was what else Ben was doing. Nearly every day while they were out on errands, as Sandy had related, Ben kept asking if they could visit music stores. Not to buy cassette tapes, no. That, Carl would have understood. He'd gotten his first taste of real rock and roll. Of course he'd want to see what else was out there. But those weren't the stores that he asked to visit. He wanted to visit the other kind. The kind that sold instruments. Ben was obsessed with electric guitars.

Sandy had humored him at first. Sure, it wouldn't hurt anything to go inside and visit. Window shopping existed for a reason after all. Even if some stores got a little picky about kids touching the instruments (Well, that one might make sense if they'd had kids drop and break some in the past), Ben found ways to make it work. One Saturday, Carl had even given in and taken him to a store that sold electric guitars and talked the younger fella behind the counter into taking one down and playing it a little. It had resulted in a 15 minute impromptu lesson on chords and finger placement and the difference between a solid-body and semi-acoustic and Gibsons and Fenders and Carl had tuned out of it a few minutes in after he saw the price tags. He figured the boring lesson might finally make Ben lose interest and ask if they could go pick up some tapes instead.

He'd been wrong. If anything, that one day he'd taken Ben out to the shop had made things worse. He and Sandy had talked about it at night, sitting in the backyard and looking up at the sky as they shared a beer or in bed when it was just a touch too warm to get to sleep easily. It was obvious Ben wanted an electric guitar, which also meant buying an amplifier, and the price of those two things…

It'd be like two Christmases, honestly. They couldn't do it, not if they hoped to have some money put aside for his college tuition. Carl had even looked up some pawn shops on his lunch break a week back, but even used, they were anything but cheap.

No, he wasn't going to get any work done on this calendar until he figured this guitar thing out. Carl sighed and rubbed at his head for a bit, and then reached for his office phone. Maybe Dad would have some ideas.

The man picked up on the third ring, pleased to hear from him. He wasn't in Bellwood, he'd actually been off visiting his brother Gordon and his family, and Carl knew that his uncle could get a little intense sometimes. They'd never been too close but it was hard to forget the cowboy hat the man always wore and the gun collection he kept trying to show off. He and Max idled away the minutes talking about what they'd been up to and keeping it light.

Finally, Max paused and spoke with the beginnings of some concern. "Is there something bothering you, son? It feels like you want to talk about something."

Carl chuckled. Yeah, the old man hadn't been around a lot growing up, but when he was, he never missed a beat if something was eating at his boys. "Well, dad, Ben's been kind of obsessed since that last vacation we all took together. I think the rock and roll bug hit him pretty hard."

"Oh, let me guess. He's buying posters with his allowance of bands that you and Sandy don't agree with." Max chuckled.

"I wish." Carl muttered. "No, that's not it dad. He...well. He doesn't want posters and he hasn't been burying himself in the listening kiosks at the record stores. I don't suppose that you've got a friend somewhere who's got an electric guitar and a small amp that they'd be willing to part with cheaply? Because Ben's been sniffing around for one since we got back and getting him a new one just isn't in the cards. It wouldn't have to be a fancy one. One with some dents in it or some missing paint would be fine if we didn't have to spend an arm and a leg."

On the other end of the line, Dad didn't say anything for a bit. He finally ended up laughing flat out, and Carl had to snicker as well. "Yeah, I wasn't expecting that he'd ever want to pick up an instrument. It is kind of funny."

"Oh, that's not why I'm laughing." Max finally settled back down, and Carl could just imagine him wiping his eyes with a finger. "What's funny is that your brother called me the other day and asked me if I knew anyone around Bellwood who had an old drumset they weren't using anymore."

Carl blinked as that fact settled into place, and all he could do was shake his head. It figured. Those two kids really did everything together. "God, I hope they're not planning on starting a band."

"For the sake of our eardrums, let's hope not." Max agreed, chuckling again. "I'll see what I can do, Carl. Listen, I'm gonna let you go. You give everyone my love, I'll be back in a couple of days."

"Yeah. Thanks, dad. See you later." Carl hung up the phone and tipped his chair back with a sigh.

So, Gwen wanted to play the drums…

- o - o - o - o - o -

Author's Note: In the LM-Verse, Ben went to the KISS Concert with his parents alone. It was the event which got him hooked on rock and roll, and it did lead to his parents getting him an old electric guitar and a small amplifier which he spent a few years learning how to play. He was good enough with it by the OS to put his shredding skills to work on an evil weather machine...and good enough a year later to make Gwen go crazy dancing in his bedroom.

Here, though, Gwen is also present for that fateful rock concert. Of course she'd get dragged into his wild schemes.