Life's A Cappella (3 page)

I had such an array of feelings coursing through my veins; I wasn’t sure which to allow myself to feel first. If human combustion were possible, I was sure I’d explode. And the doctor performing the autopsy would find me with a permanent grin and eyes whose light could not be put out.

I excitedly made my way back to the boat where I started a forty minute monologue of everything I had seen. I talked while we put away our gear and didn’t stop until we docked and got off the boat.

“
Epa!
” Camilla laughed. “Your Cuban is showing. Hands and tongue flapping so fast you made my head spin.”

I laughed along with her and headed to our friends’ room for a quick shower. Later in the evening we made our way to Mallory Square to watch the sun set. Mallory Square had entertainment for all ages, but only the kids seemed to really notice the fire jugglers, tight rope walkers, dancing dog performers, and steel drum demonstrations. Children watched with their eyes wide as the magic unfolded in front of them. Their parents, already immune to magic, drank their beer and laughed with their friends, completely oblivious of the memories their children were creating without them.

I sat on the sea wall, facing away from the ocean so I could continue to take in the commotion of Mallory Square, and ate the sandwich I had prepared for myself and Camilla.

“Best damn sandwich. Ever,” Camilla said between bites, barely breathing as she inhaled her sandwich.

I was just as hungry and was already planning a trip back to the Jeep to make another sandwich when a guy sat down Indian style in front of me and Camilla and offered us a banana. I shook my head, barely looking at him, a bit unnerved. Okay, very unnerved. I mean, who goes around offering bananas to people?

Camilla, on the other hand, happily took the offered banana. “Thanks,” she said before taking a big bite.

“Your friend’s kinda ornery,” he said to Camilla.

Without thinking about it, I whipped my head towards him and was met with smugness. Pure smugness of the over confident, who dripped with the right amount of charm.

“Hmmm...yeah, I guess she is,” Camilla responded with a grin.

“That’s sad,” he said, his eyes wide with pity.

“She has other qualities though,” Camilla chimed in.

“I am not ornery,” I said defensively. “I just don’t want your banana.” I couldn’t believe I was having such a bizarre conversation with a stranger while my best friend grinned like a moron.

“Because you don’t know me?” he volunteered.

“Well… yeah.”

“Because I’m the type of person who would go around handing out poisoned bananas to pretty girls?” he suggested.

“Maybe,” I responded, trying to hold back the smile my lips threatened to reveal, because it could possibly happen. Maybe.

“I’m Trent,” he said, extending his hand, which I shook firmly. “Now we’re friends.”

“I still don’t want your banana,” I told him.

“Ornery. Definitely ornery,” Camilla said, so I pinched her shoulder and Trent laughed.

“What can I do to make you more comfortable?” he asked.

“Leave,” I suggested while my lips continued to force a grin out of me.

“Leave? I’m hurt,” he said holding his hand to his chest. “What if I told you I was in a band?” he offered. “Would you be impressed?”

I assessed him, fully acknowledging the fact that I was already impressed simply because he had the self-confidence and balls to go up to random people and start a conversation. I was met with amused blue eyes, a quiet smirk, and disheveled long dark hair. Okay, I was also slightly impressed with his good features. But only slightly. “I dunno. Are you the sexy guitarist?” I asked boldly.

“I play the harmonica.”

“The harmonica?” I guffawed. I honestly couldn’t hold it in. The harmonica, really?

Unfazed by my reaction, he nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, not impressed. Sorry,” I shrugged.

“Hogs Breath,” he told me and Camilla. “I’m on at nine. You’ll change your mind.”

“Nine, okay,” Camilla agreed.

“Do I get names?” he asked me.

“Camilla,” I said pointing at my friend. “And I’m Erin.”

“Camilla and Erin,” he said as he got up to leave. “We’re like old friends already.”

“I still don’t want your banana,” I told him with a mischievous smile.

“I’ll think of something better then,” he laughed as he turned and walked away from us.

I watched him go. Once out of sight, I turned to my friend. “I’m still hungry,” I told Camilla, who laughed at me.

In the distance, I heard Led Zeppelin singing What Is and What Should Never Be and nodded my head to the music in silent agreement. It had taken hundreds of miles and a few years, but I had eventually found the happiness that lied within me.

Chapter 4

Shayna

She had her own room now, but was too scared to close her eyes at night. It was too quiet when she did, so she tried to keep her eyes open as long as she could. It wasn’t a fun game though and her sleepiness usually won.

She didn’t know the people she lived with. All she knew for sure was that police officers had taken her away from Momma while Momma slept on the floor. She hadn’t wanted to leave Momma, but the policeman that had carried her to his car said she had to. Momma wasn’t going to wake up, he told her. She was in Heaven.

Heaven, where the angels live. Maybe Momma was happy there. Maybe she was so happy there she wasn’t going to come back.

She wanted to go back home. She missed Momma. And she missed the baby dolls she left behind. They must be scared without her, she thought. They needed her to take care of them, to fight off the darkness that lived in their home.

She thought Nate, the policeman who had carried her away from Momma, might be nice because he visited her every day. He’d sit down and watch her play with her baby doll while she pretended he wasn’t there. He talked to her sometimes, but she tried not to hear him. Maybe if he left, Momma could come back.

Chapter 5

Erin

It was close to ten, but already Hog’s Breath was packed. We inched our way to the bar where Tonya and Brianna ordered some sort of fruity drinks with cute names while Camilla, Jermaine and I ordered Coronas. The music itself was pretty good, and I immediately recognized some of the older rock songs. And while I had never heard ACDC belt out a harmonica solo, it actually did the song justice.

Eventually, Trent caught sight of me and left his band and walked toward us.

“Sexy guitarists ain’t got shit on me, huh?” he asked.

“Eh,” I joked and made the hand gesture for so-so.

“Eh?” he repeated in mock horror.

“This poor girl has no taste in music,” Tonya told him. “Tonya,” she introduced herself, extending her hand to him, which he shook.

“Well, Tonya,” Trent addressed her, “since you obviously know more than our Erin here, do you wanna sit up by the band? I saved a table.”

“Yes, absolutely, yes!” Tonya exclaimed as she grabbed her drink, put her arm around my shoulders, and led us to the empty table.

Trent winked at me before taking his place behind a microphone and started playing his harmonica, perfectly in synch with the rest of the band, as if he had not just taken a quick break. He was good, I admitted to myself. And yes, sexy.

I tried to be discreet as I watched him play, which seemed ridiculous since he was performing and would want people to look at him. But I didn’t want him to catch me. Which again didn’t make any sense since he had gone out of his way to let me know he had noticed me. Which kind of made me feel uncomfortable with an exaggerated sense of confidence. I wasn’t really the type of girl to be noticed, but he had noticed me. And I was obviously over thinking everything. As usual. Welcome to my little corner of the universe where sanity does not obviously reside, I thought as I downed my beer and reached for another.

Before I could get too comfortable, Tonya had me by the arm and was leading me to dance. I followed, grasping my beer firmly to my chest so as not to spill on anyone we accidentally crashed into. I sang (or rather shouted) along to War Pigs as I flailed my unoccupied hand in the air, every woman’s innate gesture to let the world know just how sexy she was. And, I had to admit, I was feeling rather sexy. Maybe it was the ambience, the alcohol, or the dancing, but in all honestly, how could I not feel sexy when a sexy non-guitarist looked at me with such intensity I was sure to catch fire by the end of the night?

Just as the band started proclaiming that Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution, Camilla came up to us with shots of Patron, which I eagerly took and chased with a swig of beer. Meanwhile, Jermaine and Brianna handed out shots to the members of Trent’s band. Trent politely accepted but put it to the side, “for later,” he shouted.

As the night progressed, Tonya made several new friends with ease and a couple admirers who insisted on buying her drinks. She was in her element; enjoying the attention and the slight disorientation brought on by the alcohol. Jermaine and Brianna made out, completely engrossed in one another, while Camilla and I danced next to them. But I was blind to anything but the rhythm I felt inside me with the music blaring so lively and true.

I sang along to songs I had heard growing up, never having fully appreciated the words or the emotions behind them. But I listened to them that night. I closed my eyes, with my hands in the air, and sang and danced until my throat and feet were raw.

A little before midnight, Trent and his band got off the stage and were replaced by another band who enthusiastically took over the atmosphere in the bar. Trent brought over some chairs so they could sit with us, and introduced us to the lead singer who was also his brother Dave, the guitarist Walt, and the drummer Josh. Brianna bought them all a round of beer and thanked them for their performance while Trent made his way to sit next to me.

With alcohol induced bravery, I leaned closer to him than what was my norm and was engulfed with the overpowering scent of sweat. I wasn’t engulfed in a bad way though; it was more of a simple yet seductive declaration of masculinity that made me want to jump on him and well…

“How long have you guys been playing?” I heard Brianna ask.

“Together? ‘Bout six years,” Dave responded. “Trent don’t normally play with us though.”

“No?” I asked, looking at Trent.

“Nah,” Dave shook his head. “He used to, but left us for some job in Miami,” he added, looking down at his hands resting on his lap and shook his head. Sarcasm, I thought, and I immediately liked him.

“Yeah? What do you do?” I asked him.

“I’m in law enforcement,” he responded.

“As in a cop?” He nodded while I narrowed my eyes at him and bit my lower lip. “I’m having a hard time picturing you with a gun and badge.”

Trent laughed a fully bellied laugh that sent his head rolling back and little pricks of excitement up and down my spine. “And what do you do, Erin?”

“I’m a student,” I said and took a drink of my beer. “I’ll be graduating in a couple months.”

“What are you getting a degree in?” he asked, brushing the hair that had fallen onto my face to the side.

“Oh, um,” I stuttered, a bit flustered, and deliberately pulled my body away from him. “Um, nursing.”

“Erin’s gonna be a kick ass nurse,” Camilla interjected, and I was grateful for the momentary interruption so I could regroup. “God only knows how many times she’s had to fix me up.”

“Cam’s a bit of an accident prone,” I told him. Camilla, who had always watched over me like a lion watching over her cubs, looked at me to see if I was okay. I nodded slightly, so she returned to her conversation with Dave and Walt while Tonya kept Josh entertained.

“So you’re the kind of person to have around in case of an emergency?” Trent asked.

“Sure, I guess,” I answered, feeling self-conscious about my reaction to such a simple touch.

“What kind of nurse?”

“Pediatric.”

“So you like kids?” he asked, and I laughed, again at ease in my own skin.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” I countered.

“Sure, I guess,” he mimicked me.

“So I can ask you a couple questions?” I asked and he gestured with his hand to go ahead. “Are you really a cop?”

“Yeah.” He nodded and I shook my head. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of law against offering women you don’t know your banana. Some might call that harassment,” I responded, and he graced me with one of his enthusiastic, no barrier laughs that I was starting to grow a fondness for.

After a few hours of talking and dancing, Camilla and I were ready to call it a night and made our way to the Jeep with Trent and Dave as our escorts. I told myself I was happy to have them with us because of all the drunks stammering around Duval Street. Although I knew all too well the anger alcohol could unleash, I wasn’t really too worried. After all, how much harm could a grown man who, for example, was too drunk to be able to slip on a pair of flip flops actually do? But I liked having Trent close by, so I told myself it was because of the drunk tourists, who in actuality hadn’t even noticed us as we walked by them.

“What are we doing here?” Trent asked as we turned into the parking lot we had left Camilla’s Jeep.

“I don’t know about you two,” I answered, “but Cam and I are sleeping.”

“Where?” he asked looking around obviously confused.

“My car,” Camilla responded as she skipped towards it.

“Wha – your car?” he shook his head, at a loss for words. “Okay, fine, but why?” he laughed.

Before I could get defensive, Camilla nonchalantly asked him, “How else are we going to sleep under the stars?” as if what we were doing was perfectly normal. Which, in my case, was perfectly normal. I had grown up sleeping in cars when my mom couldn’t make rent or had gotten kicked out of her current boyfriend’s apartment. Thankfully, us sleeping in Camilla’s car was our choice and bound to be far more enjoyable and comfortable than anything from my past.

“By yourselves?” Trent continued.

Camilla rolled her eyes at him and nodded yes while I watched their interaction, quietly interjecting my point of view in my head. I didn’t say them out loud because there wasn’t an actual reason for my being so upset with Trent and the probability that he was judging me. But I was angry. Mainly because us staying in the Jeep wasn’t really something either of us actually wanted, but because I couldn’t afford a hotel room. Plain and simple. And while the idea of sleeping with the top down, staring at the stars did sound like fun, that wasn’t the real reason. And I hated the real reason. It reminded me too much of the poverty I had lived through. And it reminded me that while I had escaped my past, I still carried it with me.