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Authors: Jon Skovron

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BOOK: Struts & Frets
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The next thing I remember, a nurse was gently shaking me awake.

“Your friends are here,” she said.

“Friends?” I said stupidly. I turned to the doorway and there they were: Rick, TJ, Alexander, Joe, Laurie, and Jen5, all huddled together, almost like that would keep them safe.

The nurse told them to talk quietly and not to wake up Mom, then she left. They stared at me like they had no idea what to do now that they were here. They looked so bewildered that under any other circumstances, I probably would have laughed. But right now it seemed more sad than funny. It was like this room and this experience had separated me from them. Made me different. And even though both sides wanted to cross over, we didn't know how. And it was like that for a long time, with us just staring like it was an uncrossable chasm.

Then, Jen5 said, “Okay, okay, enough,” then elbowed her way past the others, walked over to me, and hugged me hard. At first, my body tensed up. I didn't feel like touching anyone. But as she continued to squeeze me with her strong, thin arms, I started to trust that strength, and so I relaxed and even leaned into her a little. I slowly wrapped my arms around her. Then I put my face in her mass of frizzy blond hair and inhaled that familiar smell.

“Thank you for coming,” I said.

She nodded into my chest. Her shoulders started shaking and I realized she was crying.

I looked at the rest of them and tried to smile, tried to show them I was okay. That it was all okay. They smiled back like they believed me and I really appreciated that, even if it wasn't true.

“Thanks, guys,” I said. “I . . . uh . . . I know we were supposed to rehearse tonight, but . . . I, uh . . .”

“Don't even think about it,” said TJ. “Seriously.”

“I just . . . I don't want to let you guys down,” I said.

“You need to take care of yourself right now,” said Rick.

I nodded.

“So . . . do you need anything?” asked TJ.

“No, I'm cool,” I said. That almost made me laugh after all. It seemed so dumb to say.

“Are you going home tonight?” asked Rick.

“We both are,” I said. “They just want to keep her under observation right now.”

They all nodded again. In unison. This time, I did laugh a little.

“You all go home,” I said. “Thanks for coming.” Then, because it sounded a little dismissive, I said, “Really. Thanks.”

They all slowly filed out, except Jen5, who was still clinging to me, her face still pressed into my shoulder.

“Can I stay?” she asked, her voice muffled.

“Sure,” I said. “I think that would be nice.”

For the next few hours, my mom slept and I told Jen5 everything about Gramps. Not just the new stuff, but everything. Usually I told her the funny stuff, like his obsession with McCarthy, but I'd always leave out the scary parts. And when I told her about it all now, she listened. Really listened.

Then she told me about her own grandfather, who was dead now. He had been an orthopedic surgeon and a nut about golf. He didn't like kids, though, so most of her memories were of him sitting in his La-Z-Boy, wearing his plaid pants, watching golf on TV, and drinking straight bourbon all morning. He also never used denture cream, or maybe it got dissolved by all the bourbon, and whenever he laughed, which wasn't often, or yelled, which was a lot, his teeth would float around in his mouth.

After she finished telling me about her grandfather, she asked me about my dad.

I didn't really even like thinking about the dad thing. But I guess a lot of people wondered about it. I'd never talked about it to anyone before.

“I don't know,” I said. “He was just some guy my mom was dating in college. When they found out she was pregnant, he freaked and split. We don't have any idea where he is, and I don't think my mom wants to know.”

“Do you?”

I shrugged. “Sometimes. When I get that feeling like something's missing, you know? And I wonder if that's what it is. Like I'm a puzzle and there's a great big hole right where the dad piece goes. But when I was a kid, I didn't feel that way. When I had Gramps, like he used to be, I felt like I had something better than anyone else. Something better than a dad.”

“Do you think you'll ever try to find him?”

“Maybe someday,” I said. “But not anytime soon. I want to be my own man before I meet him. Just in case.”

“In case what?”

“In case he's a total asshole.”

A little while later, Mom woke up.

“Christ,” she said, her voice soft and scratchy. “I feel like hell.”

Then her eyes came into focus and she looked around. “Oh, hi, Jennifer,” she said. “Thanks for keeping Sammy company. That's very sweet.”

“I'm just glad you're okay, Ms. B,” said Jen5.

“Yeah,” said Mom. “So am I.” She sat up carefully and looked around. “Okay, let's get a nurse in here and find out how soon they'll spring us from this joint.”

Two hours later, we were in the Boat and heading home. But first we dropped Jen5 off at her house.

As she climbed out of the backseat, she said, “See you tomorrow in school?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Good-bye, Ms. B,” she said. Then she started walking up the driveway toward her front door.

Mom rolled down her window and called out, “Wait a sec, Jennifer.” Then she turned back to me and looked at me sternly. In the Mom Authority voice that she hardly ever used, she said, “Samuel Bojar, I thought I raised you better than that. You get out of this car and go give that girl a goodbye kiss.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“What?” she said. “You didn't think I knew you guys were dating?”

“Well . . . ,” I said.

“Sammy. She's waiting.”

I nodded, got out of the Boat, and walked over to where Jen5 was standing and looking a little confused.

“Thanks again for staying with me,” I said. Then, before she could respond, I stepped in and kissed her. I meant for it to be one of those quick pecks. Who wants to make out in front of his mother? But it was such a relief that I just kind of sank into it. I've heard people say that they lose themselves in a kiss. But in that moment, it was the opposite for me. I felt like I found myself. Not who I wished I was, or who I was afraid of becoming, but who I really was.

Finally, she managed to escape my grasp. I hadn't realized I'd been holding her so tight. She stepped back and looked at me kind of bewildered.

“Wow,” was all she said, then she smiled, turned, and walked to her front door.

I watched her enter and shut the door behind her. Then I turned and walked back to the Boat.

As I pulled away, Mom said, “Well, that was very—”

“If you say sweet,” I interrupted, “I'm gonna hurl.”

“I was going to say that was very dashing.”

“Dashing?” I said. “I kinda like the sound of that.”

A quiet smile curled up on her bruised lips. “I thought you might.”

That night after dinner, Mom looked at herself in the mirror for the first time. She stared for a while at her half-shaved
head, her black eye, and the glittering line of staples.

“Looks like I'm going to have to invest in a lot of hats,” she said quietly. Then a strange expression came on her face and she pulled the half-head of hair back. She squinted her one good eye. “Or maybe,” she said, “I'll just shave the whole thing and start fresh.”

“That would be awesome,” I said.

“Yeah.” She smiled. “I think so too.”

She had bruises all over her body as well, so she had a hard time moving around. I helped her into bed and brought her a glass of water.

“You know, Mom, if you think you need help tomorrow, I could stay home from school.”

“Nice try, Sammy. No, I'll be just fine. And anyway, you know the rules. No extracurriculars that day if you aren't in class. And you have that Battle of the Bands thing tomorrow night.”

“Oh, I don't think I'll be doing that,” I said.

“Samuel,” she said, using that rarely invoked Mom Authority voice for the second time. “You are going to compete in that contest. End of story.”

about what had happened. I couldn't blame them. I didn't really know how to talk about it either. There was still this weird sort of distance, like at the hospital. I think everyone was being careful with me or something. Like I was suddenly this feeble person. Like I was helpless.

I could tell it threw them even more when I asked how everyone felt about the contest. We were sitting around a table eating lunch and everybody froze, food halfway to their mouths.

“You mean you still want to do it?” asked Rick.

“Sure,” I said.

“What about your mom?” asked TJ.

“She was the one who convinced me, actually.” I turned to Joe. “Do you have the lyrics memorized?”

“Of course,” he said. “I'm ready if Rick is ready.”

We all looked at Rick.

“Let's do it,” he said.

The contest was being held at Newport Music Hall, a huge space that usually hosted all the big-name bands on tour. Not the superstar bands, of course. They played at the stadium. But everyone else played at Newport Music Hall. There was a big sunken pit in front, then more dance floor in the back. It also had a whole second mezzanine level with real theater seats. It could seat more than a thousand people. I couldn't even imagine what a thousand people might look like. Actually, I chose not to.

We had to show up right after school to get our names on the list, and we had to bring our gear with us. The nice thing was that we got to park in the reserved parking lot behind the building. KLMN was also providing a lot of other gear, like the amps, speakers, mics, and a simple, bare-bones drum kit so it wouldn't take much time to switch between bands. We even got a sound check to get used to the space. Although the guy who was running it, some gnarly old dude covered in tattoos and sporting a braided goatee that hung halfway down
his chest, said it would sound a lot different when the place was filled with people.

Walking out on that stage was amazing. I looked at the seats all the way on the upper level in the back, and they seemed so far away. There was so much space to fill up with music. It almost made me dizzy thinking about it. But a good kind of dizzy, like riding a roller coaster.

“You got three minutes, boys,” said the sound-check guy.

We quickly plugged in and ran through our first song. I couldn't believe how great it sounded. We could be as loud as we wanted, and Joe knew the lyrics and Rick played the correct bass line without anyone reminding him. Laurie, Alexander, and Jen5 stood down in the pit cheering and laughing. It was perfect.

We were all grinning like idiots as we walked off the stage.

Rick turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Holy shit, dude,” he said. “We might actually do this!”

I just nodded my head. I
knew
we would.

So many bands were playing that they couldn't all fit in the dressing rooms backstage. We ended up getting put in one of the backstage offices. It was dark and kind of cramped with the four of us, plus another band that I didn't recognize. But whatever. We were still backstage at the Newport. Hell, yeah.

BOOK: Struts & Frets
13.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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