"Okay, Bobby. Just pick something you like, and play it. Right now, we just want to get a feel for your style, how you roll."
He looked around the garage at the band's practice room, and the instruments all set up and waiting. "Are you talking about hiring me to play intermissions?"
"What?" Lori's forehead wrinkled.
"I mean, if you want to see how we'll play together, why don't we just jam? Show me what you do, and I'll try to round you out. Your band, after all."
The three girls traded a look. Too good to be true.
An hour later, Melanie called a break. Alex headed for the bathroom. Lori flapped the top of her shirt to cool off. "What bands have you played in before?"
"None. Always played solo till now."
"Oh? All private instruction, no classes?"
"Lori, I'm self-taught."
"Get outta here. I thought you were a music major, like Amy Lee over here."
He fiddled with a string. "Engineering and physics. Don't hold it against me."
"A session like that leaves me ready to forgive you anything. Mel, do we really have to audition anybody else?"
"Alex has to weigh in yet. She's the one who wanted a girl. Besides," she said, meeting Bobby's eye, "we haven't heard you sing yet."
He smiled, switched from bass to acoustic guitar, and launched into It's Been Awhile, a wide-ranging emo ballad by Staind, about a troubled guy talking to his ex-girlfriend about his struggle to put his life together. Lori's eyes were misty and very un-Goth by the time he finished. "Jeez. You got pipes. You put a lot of feeling into that, Bobby L. But I can't picture you as a loser boyfriend. Were you ever?"
"No," he said, eyes on the neck of his guitar. "But I've got angst down pretty good."
Alex came back into the garage. Lori took one look at her and said, "What happened?"
Alex glanced at Mel with round eyes. "Your brother asked me to a movie."
"Oh. My. God. What did you say?"
"I think I said yes, after I found my voice. Don't ask me why. What is going on around here?"
"Alex. What about-" She tilted her head towards Bobby.
"Oh. Yeah. Get him a copy of our playlist. We ought to let him add a couple of his faves, too, so he feels like he's in the band." She bundled up her sticks. "Practice tomorrow noon, right? Think I'd better head home. He wants to meet me at Sardini's for dinner first. Not much time to get ready."
"Alex, it's two o'clock."
"Like I said."
-0-
Eddie loved the smell of comic shops. There was just something about the combination of fresh newsprint, fusty cardboard and incense that made him feel like he was on a treasure hunt every time he walked into one. This one even had music, some indie band Bobby would probably recognize. The guy behind the counter, talking to a customer, seemed to know his stuff, which was good and bad at the same time: the shop would likely have some very nice issues, but there wouldn't be any bargains here.
A lot of comic emporia were cluttered and disorganized as a Chinese pawnshop, but this one was laid out neatly, another sign that he was in a business establishment, rather than somebody's attempt to support his comics jones by dealing as well. The current issues were arranged on the stands in alphabetical order, and the back issues sub-grouped by studio. Rare issues were mounted in plastic high on the walls behind the back-issue stacks, out of reach; signs on the walls said, "ASK FOR HELP EXAMINING THESE ITEMS". All in all, it was a good place to browse, or to pick up something hard-to-find if you didn't mind paying for it. He'd have to find other sources, though, to build a satisfactory collection.
He was resigned to starting over. He hadn't seen his collection in nine months, and possibly never would again. Thinking about that made him think of his mom and dad, and he felt a familiar stab. It seemed now that he'd shamelessly taken them for granted. He wondered what they thought of him now; whether they believed he was still in school, forgetting about them, or whether IO had told them some story about him that had convinced them he was dead or forever out of reach some other way. He shook off the dark thoughts and picked through the new issues, looking for any interesting titles that had come out since he'd gone to the Academy.
Someone bumped into him. "Sorry." A girl's voice. He gave her a glance, and then another, and smiled. "No prob." Decent enough, but no comparison to the chicks he shared a roof with, even Anna. Still, very nice. Chicks were a fairly rare sight in comic shops where he came from, but, looking around, he saw that almost a quarter of the people going through the stacks were girls. Two aisles away, the one who'd bumped into him glanced up and gave him a smile. His mood lightened. Maybe there were some finds to be had here after all.
-0-
Bobby was sitting on the couch after dinner, watching Cool Hand Luke. He'd just gotten to the part where the Warden says, "What we got here… is a failure to communicate," just before the whole world falls on the poor runaway.
Sarah dropped into the cushion beside him and leaned up against him. The waist-length raven hair fell over his shoulder, feeling like silk and smelling like summer rain. He stopped breathing. She smiled at the screen. "So. How was your date?"
"Great," he said, as casually as he could manage while sharing body heat with the girl of his dreams. "Music major, non-classical. She's in the band, matter of fact. Lots of fun."
Mischief touched the corner of her mouth. "You didn't feel uncomfortable, spending the evening with an older woman?"
You're three months older than I am. If only I could convince myself you're feeling jealous. "She's not that much older." He shifted carefully, minimizing contact without actually withdrawing. "How was yours?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Toni's a little butch for my taste. And possessive. She seemed to think being the first girl to ask me out gave her dibs on me. When I told her I wanted to date around, she didn't take it well."
"Sorry," He said, not feeling sorry at all.
"It's okay. At least all the boys in school know about me now, so they've stopped pestering, mostly. They just buzz around poor Caitlin, and Eddie's all that keeps them off Roxanne." She shifted, pressing closer again, and the movement of her body against his drew his stomach up tight. "How did your audition go?"
"They liked me. I'm in. First practice tomorrow."
"Of course they liked you." She looked at him through her lashes. "Are you going to see her again?"
"Probably." In practice, in class, and at lunch. There's only one girl in the world for me, and she's right here. And she's a lipstick lesbian who treats me like a brother half the time, and a nuisance the other half.
They watched the show in silence. He stretched his willpower to its utmost, and managed to keep his eyes on the screen and control his breathing, giving her no clue that anything was wrong. On the screen, Luke had just been given the beating of his life, and the guards were bringing him to the point of death with endless work and no sleep. Sarah said, "They're really putting him through it, aren't they? Watching stuff like this, it's no wonder you're always so melancholy."
Only around you, Sarah. Only around you.
-0-
Anna was cleaning the kitchen after breakfast when the mailbox mike picked up some new activity: a diesel engine, of the sort used in small passenger vehicles. She went to one of the few windows facing the street and parted the curtains. She saw a large dual-wheeled pickup truck pulling a low trailer loaded with mowers and other grass-cutting equipment: the neighborhood lawn care service, arriving on an unprecedented Sunday morning to mow. She recognized only one of the two workers, a tall, muscular black youth with a bandanna covering his head.
She went out to meet them. On the steps leading down into the garage, she stopped to disarrange her clothing, sliding her bra strap down on her shoulder and pulling her shirt out. She paused until the garage door had swung halfway up, knowing the crew outside would be watching the opening. She walked through the garage, slipping her bra strap back on her shoulder and tucking in her shirt. She waved as she came out into the sunlight, and walked down the driveway to the truck and trailer parked on the street, and the two shirtless young men dropping the trailer's gate to get at the lawn equipment riding on it. "Dewayne. Wait a second, please."
The black youth rested a hand on the trailer's rail and smiled. "Sup, Anne?" His voice was unusually deep. "Meet our new guy, Larry."
The second crewman was a slender white boy with sandy hair and a tee-shirt tan; he reached a hand towards her. She took it, smiling. "Hello, Larry." Names are important to people. "Is that short for something?"
He smiled back, but not just at her face. "Lawrence, yeah. Hi."
"Lawrence," she said, broadening the 'a' and bringing the 'r' from the back of her throat, almost rolling it. "Do you mind if I call you Lawrence? It feels better in my mouth ."
A flicker of eye contact passed between the two men. Another mistake. Will I ever talk to people for five minutes and be sure I've got everything right? "Uh, yeah. Sure."
She turned back to Dewayne. "Is there some way you can come back later? Mr. Lynch just got in, and he's been driving all night."
Dewayne's smile disappeared. "Only six yards to do on this street today, then we have to head clear across town. We can do yours last before we go, but it won't be more than an hour or two before we're here."
She let her face fall. "Could you come back after that? Or tomorrow? I'd make it worth your time."
He shook his head. "No can do. We're mowing till dark as it is. Storms in the forecast tomorrow. That's why we're here on Sunday." He glanced back into the trailer. "Tell you what. We got a little electric mower we use for trim. Nice and quiet, prob'ly do a third of the yard before it quits. I'll leave him here with that, and go work on the other yards. When I come back with the rider, I'll start from the street. By the time we meet, we shouldn't be much closer to the house than if we was doing the next yard."
She clasped her hands together and beamed up at him. "Wonderful. Thank you."
"Still gonna put us behind. And I can't make it up on the road. A speeding ticket would cost me a day's pay."
"I said I'd make it worth your time. I will."
"Kay then." He lifted an eyebrow and looked down at her. "What time do I pick you up?"
"Stop it." She slapped his bare chest, not hard enough to leave a mark. "How many times must I tell you 'no'?"
"You can stop any time you want. You prejudiced, Anne?" His smile robbed the words of any sting.
"Yes. I'm veyie prejudiced against dating handsome sharming men. I don't want to become an entyie in your leetle bleck buhk, Dewayne Zhonson."
He grinned. "I don't have a 'leetle bleck buhk'."
She put three fingers to her lips and smiled behind them, as if embarrassed by her lapse. "Then you have some other way of keeping track. And keeping score. Besides, I can't take time off right now. The house is full of guests." She dug into her pocket and produced a small packet of folded bills. "Will you settle for this?"
He didn't reach for the money. "If it was just me, I wouldn't take it. But the kid don't know you. And the dispatcher'll want a cut."
She pushed the money towards him. "Don't undervalue yourself. Mr. Lynch says the sincerest form of flattery is money, not imitation." She took his hand, turned the palm up, dropped the bills into it, and closed his fingers over them. Then she turned back towards the house. "Au 'voir."
Behind her, in confidential tones, she heard Larry's voice. "Dang."
"Yeah." The gate clanked as Dewayne lowered it carefully to the pavement.
"'It feels better in my mouth'. Tell me you're gettin some of that."
"Never. She's eye candy, even in those funky clothes. And fun to talk to. Only white girl ever got my name right. And if you get her flustered enough so's that accent slips out, it's enough to drive a man crazy. I love dragging her." More clanking, as he moved equipment around on the trailer. "But if she ever says yes, I'll find a way to back out."
"Why?"
"You didn't see her putting herself back together on the way out? I talk to the security guys, and they're sure she's shakin it with the man of the house."
She entered the garage and sent the door down, but continued to listen via the mailbox mike as she headed for the kitchen.
"And that's a problem why?"
"Cuz I don't want some Mafia hitman thinking I'm playin his squeeze, college boy."
"Get outta here. Word?"
"Word. Not the only hood on this street, either. We got a contract to do the whole subdivision, but we don't mow the last three houses, ever. They got their own gate across the road, and whenever I'm cutting one of the lawns next door, some mook comes out and eyeballs me the whole time. Creeps you out. Him, he's a lot more social-like. I run into him on the way in or out sometimes, and we talk, nice as nice. But he's got an eye missing and some nasty-ass scars on his face, and I'll bet anything the guy who did it to him is dead. He looks just like the kinda guy rich folks would hire to kill somebody or blow something up. No way am I gonna risk gettin on his list." She heard the tailgate creak as it rose, then the snap of its locks. "She'll probably bring you out a lemonade or something later. Be polite. And don't take a step past the garage door. His 'guests' are probably sittin around the kitchen table cleanin their guns."
-0-
Alex glanced at Mel and Lori. "You want to add Jimi Hendrix to our playlist?"
Bobby cocked his head. "Not exactly. I want to do Voodoo Child."
They were three hours into their first practice together. As in the audition/jam session, Bobby had meshed with the three of them as if he'd been a studio musician in a former life. He'd picked up a dozen songs from their playlist as if he'd already known them, even the one that was Melanie's. The girls had traded smiles time and time again, silently congratulating each other on their lucky find. And then Alex had asked him about adding a few songs of his own.
Melanie was sure the others were thinking the same way she was. She wasn't prepared to sit on her hands onstage while the band's only guy threw himself a bass party. She felt a pang of disappointment. Didn't take him long to go rockstar on us.
"Always wanted to hear a girl do those lyrics," he went on. He picked out the song's intro. "Like this. I start out the chicken-pecking part just like you always hear it, to let the audience think they know what's coming. Then, just as they're expecting the bass hammer to drop, I fade back, and you three take it away. Gotta hit it hard, on keyboard and drums both. Lead vocals to Lori; a girl does this, she's gotta be a wildcat." He grinned at them. "I can hear it in my head already. We do this right, it'll bring the house down."
They spent half an hour working on arrangements, then gave it a try. Melanie said, "What do you think, Bobby?"
He was frowning. "Too polite." He unslung the bass and stepped to the keyboard. She watched Lori's eyes widen and her lips part slightly as he leaned over it, placing their faces a foot apart. "Lori, you've got a sweet voice. I love what you do with Take Your Breath Away. But you don't want to croon this, or sound like you're reciting Jimi's vocals. You want to steal this song and make it your own. The only way this can work is if you show everybody a girl can out-Jimi Jimi, and you're the girl." He smiled down at her. "Come on, Goth princess. You're not afraid to break out of the box, are you?"
Lori swallowed, eyes locked on him. "Course not."
"So belt the vocals out, just like when you back up Mel on Do You Wanna Touch." He took up position and slung his guitar. "Once more. Alex, come in hard just before the end of the intro, to sort of push me out of the way and give Lori and Mel something to work with."
The second attempt brought dust down out of the rafters, and a small crowd formed at the end of the driveway, watching through the open garage door. When the last chord crashed against the walls, the four of them froze in place, looking at one another. After five seconds, Alex put a tongue to her upper lip. "Was it good for you, too?"
The band broke into laughter. "Omigod," Lori said to Melanie; she was perspiring like she'd sprinted fifty yards. The half dozen onlookers applauded and hooted.
"What do you think?" Bobby was glowing. "Do we add it to our playlist?"
"I think we add it to our audition set." Melanie grinned at him, and shook her head to clear the fumes. She was vibrating like a guitar string; still high off the righteousness of the song, she supposed.
He glanced at his watch. "Gotta go." He slipped his guitars into their cases.
"Bobby," Melanie said, "we all just leave our stuff here."
He gave her a crooked grin. "Inviting me to move in?" he bent to replace his bass on its stand, so he missed her flush. He picked up the case holding his acoustic. "I could leave the bass. But I sleep with this one." He passed through the door, headed for his car.
"Lucky guitar," Lori said, not quite under her breath. "Christ. When he looked at me like that, I couldn't have said no to him. Not to anything." She looked at Melanie. "You don't make up your mind about him soon, I'm making a play."
"Uh, guys?" Alex laid her sticks on a drumhead and leaned forward. "Something I need to tell you. I went out with Joel last night-"
"Hold the presses," Melanie said. "You're not going to give me TMI on my brother, are you?"
"No. You know Kat's a baby genius, right? Joel told me she's not eighteen yet."
"You're kidding. She looks…"
"Yeah."
"What is she doing in college? Third year work, no less."
Alex shrugged. "Special program, that's all she'll say. But can you imagine a high school that could teach her anything?" The trouble line between her eyes deepened. "Thing is, Kat told me she's a year older than Bobby."
They digested that for a moment, then Lori blew out. "Ugh. I'm a cooger at twenty."
"At least you didn't date him. I feel like…"
"For what it's worth, you guys, I feel it too. He walks by while I'm sitting down, and my knees separate a little all by themselves. That crack about a harem doesn't seem nearly so cute now." Alex looked out the open garage door at him, as he eased his case into the little hatchback. Two of their audience were teenage girls, and they were both leaning over the back of the car, watching him. "I never believed in animal magnetism till now, but it's either that or we all need boyfriends real bad. I'd swear he's not doing it on purpose. I don't think he even knows. But he's got a big head start in the player game. My brother's his age, and his voice still squeaks sometimes when he talks to girls. I think, if we want to keep him, we all better be very, very careful with him."
10
