Improvise

not done.

Grace Stone

Creative Writing

March 04, 2007

Mrs. Elder

Improvise

I made a mistake in fourth grade. Up until that point I believed myself to be a perfect human being. I was the best defense player on the community soccer team. Although, anyone could make it onto the team, I knew I could make it on a select one. Not only this, but my grades were the best a parent could ask for, I did all my homework myself, and washed the dishes and took out the trash without being asked. But one little mistake on a recorder test in music took a demolition ball to that idea.

I sat on that rough blotchy purplish carpet with cold clammy hands. My eyes scanned the dull white walls to find something to distract me. “Lyric O’Connor” called Mrs. Walsh as her eyes searched the group of children across the room from me, where I could usually be found.

“No time for distractions . . . it’s time to rock!” I thought as I tried to become my brother. She didn’t see me until she heard my heavy feet shuffle across the cactus-like carpet behind her. She turned her head so that our gazes met and gave a satisfied smile. I shot her a weak one in reply. I watched in dismay as her lovely grin flickered for a second in confusion. She knew, she knew that that day I was not “Lyric the all mighty, all powerful, indestructible child prodigy ”. No, that day I was just “10 year old, Lyric O’Connor that just might wet her pants”.

She pointed to the black cushioned stool “Have a seat, Lyric” . She recovered her natural smile, but I found little comfort in it. The paper on the stand before me drained any ounce of comfort I got from the squishy padding on the chair or smile on some pretty lady’s face. Five thin black lines with sporadically placed bold circles. “Okay, could you play ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’” Mrs. Walsh hummed softly. Not wanting to admit it to myself I threw her, along with myself, a short jerky nod of forced confidence. I pulled my black and white hand-me-down recorder to my lips. Half way through the song my hands were as shaky as my quivering notes. My lungs were on fire and that piece of plastic screamed so loud, everyone in the class turned to watch my demise. Let’s just say that by the end of that disaster, Mary’s Lamb had swallowed her whole, spit out the bones, and picked its little supposedly harmless teeth with it.

Of course she had to fail me, so I just smirked, shrug my shoulders, and let the worthless piece of plastic plummet onto the “cactus hell” carpet. I spent the rest of the day like I did normally. In the front of the line, leading the class from room to room, the jokester at the lunch table, and the first to finish the division quiz. But upon entering my bedroom door it was a completely different story. My tightly clenched throbbing throat that I had been ignoring since the recorder incident finally got the best of me. Hyperventilation comes quick to perfectionists that loose their touch and sobbing comes easy to a fourth grader. I laid on my back and kicked my feet fiercely in all directions. The metal bars on my blue head board were never symmetrical again after I had my way with them. With hands behind my head I pulled and pushed on them until they resembled the ugly industrial art I saw in “Beetlejuice”.

My tantrum was interrupted when my brother barged in like a maniac with a piece of cheese cake, a 2-liter of coke, and an envelope. He was hooping and hollering, while he jumped around in circles. I couldn’t help but give him my biggest and most sincere grin. While I did so I sniffled and wiped the snot from my dirty tear stained face. He would have frozen in mid air if possible, but instead gravity had its way with him. Once he landed, his crazy smirk disappeared, his eyes widened, and eyebrows raised. Gently he set the contents of his hands on my night stand and sat next to me. One arm wrapped around me tightly as the other rubbed its knuckles vigorously on the top of my head. “What’s wrong little girl?” Christian whispered concern in my ear. Instantly my hand shot from my lap to his shoulder. “ I’m not little!” I giggled.

“Oh that’s right you’re a buttface...and good at avoiding questions too, what a great combination!” he stuck his pointy tongue out at me.

“You are correct, Sir.” I retorted with my most sarcastic tone.

His smile faded, “So, are you going to tell me or what?”

When I finished my story of the horrific day’s events, he just simply leaned back so he was propped up against the wall and pulled me back with him. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Lyric. Everyone makes mistakes. Remember when I first started playing drums? Dad almost killed me, eh?” he said as he poked my sides. I started laughing immediately at the thought the days when he had no rhythm or control over dynamics, yet I listened to him even then. “Yeah, I guess you’re right...” I replied in deep thought. His voice became background noise to my thoughts. I recalled dancing around his tiny drum set on the uneven concrete that felt as cold as dry ice. Once he got too frustrated he would just hop up and dance around with me. Sometimes he would bring down his radio and we’d jump around until we were keeled over, gasping for breath.

I was only brought back to the present time when Christian’s voice raised as he pulled me off the bed. He wouldn’t tell me what we were doing. He only kept repeating “Ooh! I have an idea! Ooh! I have an idea!”. After being dragged down the hallway, we reached his olive green, poster covered room. His boom-box had since been upgraded to a surround sound system, thanks to the job at the local hospital he had obtained. We spent the next couple hours listening to band after band, genre after genre. I was supposed to be listening to all the instruments and picking one I liked best. We listened to a few songs of each band but when we got to his Def Leppard cd we listened to every song. He owned every one of their albums and we knew every track. We looked at each other simultaneously and started to trade off lines. I stood up on the bed and held out my hand as if I could actually pick him up myself. After he got to his feet I stomped mine up and down as quickly as I could manage and swung my arms randomly around. He stared at me for a second in awe, laughed hysterically, and then followed my lead.

Thirty minutes or so later Christian collapsed and I plopped down next to him. “Okay, enough of that. Let’s calm down. Back to business, eh?” he huffed as he forced himself to his feet. “ This is the last cd. After that it’s decision time, Lyric.” After the first guitar lick I was hooked. There was not a doubt in my mind that I liked this guitar best of all the instruments I heard. “Well I’ve been lookin’ real hard and tryin’ to find a job, but it just keeps gettin’ tougher everyday” Christian sang as he lay back on the bed with his eyes closed and his head bobbing up and down on his fluffy white pillow. I watched him and smiled as I absorbed the music. Soon, Christian opened his left eye and smirked when he noticed my grin and nodding head “You dig it, eh?” I ignored him for the first time ever. The sound was too good to interrupt. It was as if he knew exactly how I felt because he just looked at me for a second more, nodded his head in agreement, closed his eye and pulled himself back into its rocking motion.

When the song ended he turned to me and said “Guitar, right?” He didn’t even wait for a reply. “Well, it’s not drums but it’ll do.” again he stuck his tongue out at me. “What do you mean it will do?” I asked in confusion. “Well dummy your going to learn how to play it. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.”

That following Christmas I found a brand new Ibanez IJX40 Electric Guitar Jumpstart Package under the tree. One of the few gifts I received that year on account of the consistently tight budget of my Librarian mother and Mechanic Step-father. But I sure as hell wasn’t complaining. The next couple months my brother spent begging my mom to invest in guitar lessons for me. During this time he taught me everything he knew about the guitar. I learned the names of the notes and a couple chords before my brother finally gave up and paid for my first lesson. Apparently, it was a good enough guilt trip for my mother and she paid for the rest of them. As far as I was concerned I was ahead of the game, which was exactly where I intended to stay.

The next few years flew by quickly and without complications. Music consumed my life like a wild fire and with every new day the embers seemed to glow brighter and burn hotter. I mastered song after song and soon created my own. I shared them with anyone who would listen, but for the most part, there were only two who would. Christian was always ready for something new and his best friend Todd was always willing to give suggestions. But by the time I was thirteen Christian was 19 and was on his way to Suriname in South America to aid the Amerindians with a few other Peace Corps volunteers.

After that it was just Todd and I, and boy did we have a blast. By that time Todd had been around long enough that we considered him family. Well, my mother and I that is, my step-father never remembered any of our friends names or cared to know. Regardless, he was the only boy allowed to spend the night and we took advantage of that every weekend. He played bass so when he came over we would jam from sun up until one of us passed out. Well, actually that only happened once. Usually when the parents went to bed we would sit on our amps with our headphones plugged in and trade when we came up with a good lick.

When Christian returned I was fifteen and had just started highschool. As soon as he got home he dragged me into the basement and said “From now on NO JAMMIN’ WITHOUT ME, EH!”. So we called Todd up and had our first “band practice”. Soon enough we felt the need to add another instrumentalist to the band. There is a limit on creativity when you are a three piece band that only plays live. After a little searching we let my Orchestra friend Dominick into the group. He could play guitar as well as electric bass, and violin. This allowed a little more variation in our songs. Sometimes I would get to play my double bass which added such a greatly needed element to our music. Although we were considered to be a “Screamo” band, even though Todd did a lot of actual singing, either Dom or Christian were screaming in the background. Personally, I never really got the whole genre thing. How one could confine any song, band, or personal artistic style to one particular column is beyond me. “Screamo” or not, I was proud to help create our unique sound.

Not one weekend that following year was wasted. We practiced every weeknight and played shows at the local spots on weekends. Although we grew so much musically that year, the best part was watching each member grow closer together. I remember our last show that year. We played the first song that I wrote the lyrics to, and I got to sing during the break down. Todd had his trickiest bass line ever. As I was belting out my lines my jaw dropped instantly when I realized in awe that he was perfecting it as we played. I went out of tune thanks to the horrible vowel change I stopped for a second. All the boys pulled off a wonderful cover for me, halting immediately, then Christian played a wicked drum roll. I caught on, raised up my pumping fist and counted off as I screamed “one.two.THREE!”. We jumped up simultaneously and fell in with the beat. We walked off that stage all smiles surrounded by applause.

Before we headed out to face the cold Todd insisted I wear his leather jacket. I refused to unless he wore my hoodie. We walked out those doors side by side. Christian and Todd next to me and Dom next to Todd. Christian’s arm was on my shoulder and Todd’s hung loosely around my waist. I held both of them closely feeling slightly awkward and heavy in my enormous leather tent. But I felt better when I felt Todd’s bare waist thanks to my tight “Tegan and Sara” hoodie. I laughed silently but he must of felt me shake because he looked at me concerned. “You still c-c-cold, Lyric?” were the words that slipped between is chattering teeth. My smile faded, “Yeah I’m fine bud, you want your jacket back?” He smirked, “Only if it still has you in it”. I raised my right eyebrow and gave him my sarcastic “what in the world are you getting at” look. His smirk remained until he turned and ran towards the outline of our car in the hazy blizzard conditions yelling “Last one there walks home!”. Of course, we all took off after him screaming wildly. Todd was tackled to the ground in a couple seconds thanks to Dom, and Christian and I made it a dog pile. A second later, Todd shot up from under us dancing around squawking “ Cold, Cold, F*****g snow is COOOOLD! Why the hell would you do that!”. He stormed off to the car and we all just sat there in the white winter storm laughing our asses off.

That spring Christian was supposed to go away to college to study Music Theory, but instead to spend his first couple of years locally to get the basics out of the way. Well at least that’s what he told our parents, the real reason was so he could keep playing in our band. The practices and shows lessened to accommodate Christian’s school schedule. But, I found very little change in the amount of time we spent together. Instead of strumming my guitar next to him on his drums, it was me scribbling down facts as he read them from his text book. Or researching various composers for his papers.

Once we laid on his bed for hours listening to Beethoven. I kept my eyes closed and picked out my favorite instruments and pretended to be ten again. I wondered if he was peeking at me with only his left eye like he had six years before. But this time the corners of his lips were turned down, both his eyelids were closed and I watch daylight reflect off the wet smears on his cheeks. He must have felt my gaze because he whispered, “He was going deaf when he wrote this you know”and his lips quivered as he whimpered “Just imagine...” There was a long pause and my throat found opportunity in it. It pulled at me and I felt myself imitating Christian so I rolled my eyes and head back fighting the thoughts that had already invaded my brother’s mind. But in the face of such a storm, I faltered. With every new note that surrounded me I imagined it being the last note I would ever write, the last hammer of the piano I would ever hear. I had never appreciated music more, or felt more hollow in my life.

Being that I was a sophomore and Todd was a senior I did tend to see him more than my own brother, which I really didn’t mind at all, but somewhere along the way he lost his role as another big brother. Now when I found him in the halls it wasn’t to share a new perverted joke or to get him to threaten a guy that was making me uncomfortable. No, now it was to feel his warm hands in the back pocket of my jeans or to see how much of a “rise” I could get out of him. Plus he was the only guy that Christian approved of. The best part of that relationship was I could still put music in front of it because Todd understood and shared my love for music.

One thing I always found to be ironic was that the less we played the more we were desired. Those next two years that Christian was in college we played less shows but had more air play on the local time segment on 99.9. Our shows were always sold out and instead of me asking people at school to come to our shows they asked me for the tickets and handed me the money willingly. When highschool ended I was voted best musician and was known by almost everyone as Lyric, First chair for Double bass, or Guitar girl.

That summer we got to tour outside of Toronto. We went to Ottawa and across the border to New York and even visited Boston where both my brother and I would be attending Berklee when the fall courses started. By mid July we decided to call it quits and head back home. A couple days later we played our last show. It looked like hell outside that entire day. Christian, Todd, Dom, and I all sat on our front porch watching the clouds roll over and under each other. It reminded me of Greek mythology and finally I could see how someone could believe it took a god to control the weather. We searched for a rhythm in the rain but when that failed us, we lay on the freshly mowed grass and tried to find shapes in the green abyss above us. I watched Christians short wavy brown hair weigh down with water until it was flat on his head. We were supposed to be looking for the wave-hopping dolphins that Dom found but his eyes were closed. I wondered what he was thinking about or if he was still listening for the rhythm in the rain. I smiled and shifted my gaze from him when I felt Todd grasp my hand. He puckered his lips and gave me his baby face. I slapped him and got up to warm up the car for the ride to the show because the wind was getting fierce and the temperature was dropping drastically.

The ride there was a great one. Christian drove and we left the radio off because he wanted to concentrate on driving. I leaned my head against the passenger window and watched it fog with my contracting lungs. I had my headphones on and was listening to a mix of my favorite artists. So by the time we got there I was pumped full of great music and ready to play a little of my own.

When we stepped on stage, I had the biggest adrenalin rush. This was it. This was the end of a chapter of my life. I wasn’t scared, I was excited. I stomped my foot as Christian started us off “ One, Two, Three”. There was not one ounce of me that was not on that stage. My mind was no where but on our music, my body was jumping with the beat, and sliding with the strings, I was the music. I could tell the boys felt the same. Dom was on his knees, head banging, and screaming loud enough you would have thought the mic was right down there with him. Todd took the stance of Atlas with his bass on his knee and his head bowed ripping out his most wicked bass line. I looked to Christian as we crescendoed and slowed the tempo. Sweat engulfed his entire body and his hair seemed wetter than when we walked in. I grasped the neck of my guitar as tight as I could and grabbed the bass of it. Then I pulled it to my right quickly and then swung my arms to the left jumped into the air and let my body follow the motion of my arms until I had done a complete 360 and I landed right on que. That night was the first and last night we jumped off stage together after an encore.

After the show we stayed to bask in our triumph. Christian bought himself, Todd, and Dom some drinks. We watched two other bands play before we left. Once we got outside Christian threw me the keys and said “What you think the only reason I didn’t give you a drink was cause you’re my little sis”. I glared at him than after I decided my dramatic pause was long enough I started laughing and he giggled in pursuit. We both stuck out our tongues at each other as we hopped in the car.

The weather had worsened since we had left home. The sky seemed black now, with the exception of the jagged lines of light that darted through the clouds. The wind blew so hard it swayed the car from one side of the lane to the other. Not only this, but I could barely see the road on account of the downpour. Christian found my cd player and popped in the disk. The first song was “I Can’t Take It” by Tegan and Sara. All the boys moaned. I yelled over the music “ OH SHUT UP, YOU GUYS KNOW EVERY WORD”. They didn’t realize it until it was too late but I had gotten them hooked on Tegan and Sara a long time ago. After about 45 seconds of the song their heads were turned looking out their windows and they were mouthing the words. I smiled in satisfaction. Next was “It Just Is” by Rilo Kiley. Not one complained when Dave Mathews started singing “Crash”. After this Christian skipped a couple songs until he heard the one he wanted. He paused it and smirked as he said “I knew you’d have it...Ready?” I just screamed “ OH YEAH BABEH!” The song started and we all sang ridiculously deep and raspy “Step inside, walk this way, you and me babe” and pelvic thrusted as we screamed “HEY HEY”. This was somewhat challenging being that I was driving but I managed.

Dom and Todd where in the back bouncing up and down like idiots. Christian played imaginary drums, while Todd pretended to be rockin’ out on the guitar. Dom was still just hopping around knocking his knees into the back of my seat. When the chorus came up Christian turned around to the boys and started singing to them using quite provocative gestures and movements. The best part was that Todd and Dom did it right back. They did that for the next verse too. “Listen! Red light, Yellow light, Green-a-light, Go! Crazy little woman in a one man show!” I yelled at Christian to put on his seat belt so he plopped back down and started to sing to me. I was glad because our favorite part was coming up and I wanted to sing it with him. He played the guitar solo to me and pointed to me as our favorite part began. “You got the peaches!” I screamed and he immediately retorted “ I got the cream” and we traded off every line pointing back and forth to each other just as we had one hundred times before.

“Sweet to taste”

“Saccharine”

“‘Cause I’m hot”

“Hot”

“So hot”

“Sticky Sweet”

“From my head”

“My Head”

“To my feet”

and then we raised our voices for the climax.

I looked to him with the biggest grin I could manage while screaming,

“DO YOU TAKE SUGAAAR?”

He sat there looking so content with his mouth hanging open in anticipation of his favorite line.

“ONE LUMP OR TWO?!?!” it was the most satisfying end to that battle we had ever accomplished.

I made a mistake that night when I looked to Christian. We were on the highway and I never should have taken my eyes off the road. My attention returned to the cement too late. The red taillights in front of me had just disappeared and headlights now swung into view. I slammed the breaks and turned the wheel but I couldn’t manage to get out the way of the spinning car. I lost control and the right side slammed into the rear end of the car in front of me. I don’t remember much after that but I know our car ended up smashing into the cement walls that bordered the highway.

When I woke up, my back was sweaty and I could hardly move my stiff rusted limbs. I found no comfort in the thin flat mattress below me or the faces of the people that crowded around me. I felt like I was in some sort of dream. I watched them wave someone in. He was wearing a long white jacket and he moved me all around touching various areas of my body. He seemed to be talking to himself, mouthing medical terms no doubt. Then he looked directly at me with a questioning look mouthing words. I just shook my head in confusion. He stuck his finger in his ear and whispered something else. I thought how stupid it was that he would whisper something when he was obviously trying to get an answer out of me. I giggled silently at his stupidity. He grasped my hand and cupped it over my own bandage-covered ear and moved his lips slowly. After he did this a couple times, I cared enough to know what he was trying to say that I watch his lips form the consonants and vowels. “Can you hear?”. I stared blankly at him. Suddenly, a flood of emotion and memories poured over me. I just crashed. Where is Christian? How are the guys? What about Todd? I shot up in the bed. I searched the room desperately for Christian. No Luck. Todd? Yes, Todd was there. I called out to him. “Todd ,Todd where is Christian?!?!” Well at least I meant to call out to him. He responded by darting from between the crowd of distant relatives to my side. But what he reacted to I didn’t know because I didn’t hear one word escape my quivering lips.

The man in the white jacket shooed everyone but my mother, step-father and Todd out of the room. He wrote the same question he had asked before on a piece of blank computer paper on his worn clip board. “Can you hear?” I contemplated the issue silently. Then screamed “Christian” as loud as I could. I bowed my head in defeat. I saw him check something on his paper. He wrote down a lot of questions after that. He sat there in front of me analyzing my condition. He told me that I had been in a coma for a week. Something about my brainstem and temporal lobes swelling thanks to the collision with the car or the cement wall. I just lay there with an empty gaze. I wanted to suffocate. I imagined that the car crash happened on a bridge and I watched myself fall into the lake below. I wanted to breathe water. But I only felt as if a rope was tightening around my chest. My metronome heartbeat was shaken until it was uneven sporadically timed pulses. It felt as though my blood had thickened so much so that my heart could no longer push it through my arteries and veins, let alone the tiny capillaries. My hands were numb and felt too heavy to lift. I just let my head fall back into the pillow and whimpered “What the f**k is happening?” before everything went black again.

The next couple of weeks I spent in the hospital. I would wake up screaming for Christian. I was told he was in another wing of the hospital, but something told me otherwise. I had no time to ponder the issue thanks to the different doctors that came in to check up on my capabilities and progress. I slept almost the entire time because I despised the people around me for talking without letting me know what the hell they were saying. Todd slept there most every day. I smiled for him and my parents. They seemed to need it. A lot of crying happened those next weeks. I kept mine quiet and confined.

When we got home, I laid down in my bed. My mother soon entered and sat next to me. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and somehow I knew exactly what it was about. She set her hand on my knee gently. She raised her other arm to reveal a crumpled piece of notebook paper. Every muscle in my body tightened but I managed to lift my arm out from under the comforter to grab it. I looked to her before I read it and I felt her hand tighten around my knee and she turned her head away from me. I rolled my head back and closed my eyes while inhaling. My throat felt so dry and tense that I thought it might cave in any moment. I opened my eyes and lowered them to the paper. “Christian isn’t coming home” I read out loud. I returned my eyes to my mother and exhaled slowly. She relinquished her grip on my knee and gazed at me waiting. I knew what she wanted. She wanted me to pour out my soul to her, to tell her how I felt, to cry in her arms, but I couldn’t. I was empty. I was done. I got out of bed and sat next to her. I wrapped my hand around her and let her sorrow dampen my shoulder. I told her I was sorry and that everything would be ok. But it was hard to be comforting when I was stone cold.

Later that night, they went to my step-grandmother’s house. The second they stepped out the door I let go. I lay in my bed for an hour bawling until I got the sudden urge to throw up. I sprinted to the toilet but by the time I got there the feeling had fled. I turned around to return to my bedroom and I stood face to face with Christian’s open doorway. I staggered inside. I ran my fingers across his surround sound system. I went through all the files on his computer. I pressed play on the cd player and lay on his bed. I pulled his pillow to my side and wrapped my arm around it, pretending that I was back in time when Christian was alive and music still affected us.

After a while the make-believe lost it’s purpose. The snot poured out of my nose all over Christian’s white sheets. Guilt overwhelmed me so I got up. I stood in front of that cd player watching the bars rise and fall and it was the first time I felt nothing. Desperately I searched his room for the bass. I pressed my ear to the floor and felt the sound. I followed it under the bed and stuck my hand in the hole that the air escaped from. My body collapsed in exhaustion. When this failed to satisfy my senses I pressed my ear to the speaker on the side of bass. I waited, and waited. I could feel the vibrations in my teeth but I heard nothing. My jaw protruded in frustration and I pressed my ear to it with all my strength. I could not help but scream in agony. I could feel my purpose right beneath my fingers I could feel my purpose pulse against my ear but it was calling for someone else. It was calling for someone who didn’t f**k things up. It was calling for someone who didn’t kill their brother. It was calling for someone useful, for someone who could hear it and appreciate its beauty. I was none of the things it was calling for. Rage consumed me as I raised my fist. I punctured that stupid speaker and took all my pain out on that cheap paint-covered wood. Then I picked it up and ripped its chord off and chuck that piece of crap into the wall. I stormed out of his room, and collapsed on the floor a few feet down the hall and spilled my guts all over our new fake wood floors.

When my parents returned they took me to the emergency room. The ride there would have been a quiet one regardless of me being hearing impaired. I sat in the back seat and studied their faces and there was not one flicker of emotion or intent of conversing. Our eyes never met and they didn’t ask one single question.

Soon after the accident Todd went away to college. We couldn’t talk on the phone so we used AIM to keep in contact. He visited on breaks, and some weekends, but we both knew what was happening and we had expected it from the beginning. We hadn’t changed, but that didn’t really matter because we were never “right” for each other. The relationship between he and I was something that just happened. So over his Christmas break we discussed the topic and decided it was best to break up. Todd was a step, a transition, and not for one second a regret. Other than our titles nothing really changed. He had always openly talked about other

girls he thought were attractive. Which oddly enough had only bothered me before we were together. After we had split, I got to hear all the intimate details I had already lived with him. I found it to be a repetative process, still I couldn’t help but smile for him. I didn’t really interact with many people so I never had anything juicy information to share with him. Truth be told, I hadn’t ever really had any strong relationships with anyone but the boys in the band. The only other people I socialized with were classmates and fans. I had some good friends in school but we never did anything outside of it, and the fans were usually drunk guys trying to get into my pants.

Dom was the only member that still lived around there. I only saw him once after I lost my hearing. It was one weekend in December when Todd had come up to visit. He and I heard about a huge snowstorm that was going to blow in so we headed up to Wal-mart to buy some new equipment. My fingers had not yet thawed when we reached the sled selection. But my eyes were not drawn to the assorted, neon, plastic disks, no instead my eyes rested on Dominick frozen in his tracks. I laughed silently at his awkward posture. He had shaven his shaggy black hair until his head resembled an oddly shaped egg with thin black fur engulfing it. He gave us a nod of recognition, then his wide eyes fell to the dirty shoe print covered tiles as he slowly exited the scene.

Todd glared at Dom as he turned the corner and shrugged his shoulders when he saw the nonchalance look on my face. He continued to write on the notepad he had bought specifically to converse with me in public. Speaking didn’t come easy after the accident, and attempting it in the presence of strangers was a bigger struggle. So he would keep a pencil and pad on him at all times when we went out.

That particular night Todd’s infatuation with a young women was the only thing sprawled across the thin lined paper. Her name was Kaydence and according to him, she was the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. He spoke of the party that they met at and how instantly his eyes were drawn to her. Apparently many guys had been drunkenly asking for perverse pleasures from her. Todd with his wonderful timing walked up to her after one of these incidences and tried to start a conversation with her about music. Unfortunately, she took it as another attempt to get in her pants, so in her frustration she splashed her water all over his head and stormed out of the room.

I flipped the page and began to read about their next encounter. He had switched into some poetry class and there she was sitting in the front row. There first assignment was a free write and they were to read it aloud the next day. Todd had had other assignments to complete so had sent him one of mine. The next couple of lines on the pad was filled with one word written over and over “THANKS!” Apparently, she had loved the poem and started talking to Todd. They had recollected the past occurrences at the party and he explained his innocent intentions and she apologized for her reaction. Not only this but he got her number.

I looked up when I had finished and he mouthed “And a date!” His eyes were widened with joy and his eyebrows raised in excitement. I was reminded of the young boy I knew years ago. His smile blared good intentions and I was happy for him.

After that evening, I laid in my bed and wondered how many people like Dominick I would meet throughout the rest of my life. People that were truly wonderful human beings with great talents and potential that would refuse to give me a chance. I wondered what chances I would be refused. I could only think of two; friendship and education. Dominick had show me the first one and Berklee had shown me the second.

After the accident I had written a letter to the college explaining the incident and waited for a reply to inform me of the consequences. The result was simple. I was no longer getting a full ride nor could I major in Music Composition because many ear training courses were needed to obtain the degree.

I sauntered out to the mailbox that day knowing full well that would be the answer. Still, when my eyes had reached the bottom of that letter I felt more empty than ever before. My future was gone. All the days in class I spent with my feet on the table hoping for it, all the nights I lay awake praying for it, all the dreams I wasted knowing it to be true. There was no profession for me in music. Light and dark, sun and moon, wake and sleep, wasted on practice. I had Screamed in frustration after each missed fingering. Mistake after mistake I had turned into perfection. I let myself collapse onto the familiar bed my feet had drug me to. I melted into the comforter and as I named the entire music phase a mistake.

Soon enough another couple months had passed and March began. Todd and his mystery girl Kaydence were dating and I was left at home, eager to meet her. Finally, one weekend he brought her down with him. I sat on my front porch anticipating her arrival. I watch trees sway and felt the breeze on my cheeks and my exposed arms. I was having trouble zipping up my jacket when Todd’s car rolled into my driveway. I didn’t notice them until I felt a light push on the back of my head. I turned around to see Todd’s goofy grin. He moved his hands to his side to reveal his companion. It took me a second to absorb my surroundings. I wasn’t sure whether it was the breeze, the cool concrete beneath me, or her beauty but I was instantly chilled to the bone.

Her shoulder length wavy brown hair was blown off to the side in the wind. She stood before me in light blue jeans and a tight “Joan Jett and the Black Hearts” hoodie. Her eyes were grey and their gaze was set so softly on me. Her smile was warm and sincere as she lifted her hand from her side for me to grasp. I took it and she nodded her head with the same soft eyes and warm smile. With no more effort than she would use for any other friend she mouthed “Hello, Lyric.” And without any thought, warning, or hesitation I replied “Hello, Kaydence.”

The three of us spent that entire weekend playing board games and watching our favorite movies. Kaydence and I ganged up on Todd during Monopoly and he went bankrupt pretty quickly. Being the big baby that he was he stormed out on us and sat in the basement in front of the big screen. We were forced to watch “Fast and the Furious”. Little did he know that neither of us minded. Eventually, Kaydence let him in on our little secret by quoting the last half of the movie. We laughed hysterically at the expression of awe and disappointment on his face.

I was disheartened to watch them leave, but I knew I’d see them both again so saying goodbye wasn’t too hard. I walked them out to Todd’s car and we stood there silently for a second before Todd tackled me to the ground and pretended to punch me. I did the same in turn and after a minute or two of this ritual we hopped up as if nothing abnormal had occurred. Kaydence had a huge grin plastered on her face as she looked from Todd to me and back again. She held out her arms to me and I stepped into her embrace. As we pulled away she looked at me with the same warm smile she had arrived with and said “Bye, Lyric.” I swayed there silently on the frosty grass not wanting the day to end. They waved as the car reversed from the concrete slabs, but thankfully it was not the last time those wheels would carry my friends to me. In fact those tires lost their tread so quickly they had to be replaced, and I didn’t miss my friends one weekend after that.

That summer Todd came down to visit as well as work, and Kaydence tagged along. This time both of them exited the vehicle with a small notepad in their back pocket. We spent the entire time lounging around Todd’s pool and my basement. Todd got to walk around shirtless the whole time with the exception of the days he worked. Kaydence and I mainly walked around in boyfriend shorts and tank tops.

The first day they arrived I had everything ready. I sat on the front porch like I had so many times before awaiting Todd’s black Mustang, but instead of leaning up against the siding of my house I had a bucket full of freezing water and liquid filled balloons behind me. As soon as they were far enough away from the car to fall back to it for safety, I revealed my weapons to them. I gave them a second to take in what was about to happen. Todd shot off first so I chucked one at his big head, but missed. Kaydence stood there with a smirk of admiration on her face. I smiled and tossed her some ammunition. We both chuckled as we searched the yards for Todd. I circled the front yard and boardered the fence but found no one. I retraced my steps back to Kaydence, but her back was turned. She was determined to find our boy. My shoulders bounced up and down with my malicious intent. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to me. I put my lips to her ear and crackled “ Too trusting.” And with that I smashed the balloon over her head and watched the ice cold water douse her perfect hair. We lingered there for just a moment as the water soaked into her back and into my chest. An instant later Todd came up behind us and busted a balloon over each of our heads. A wonderful start to such a spectacular summer.

A couple days later I made the mistake of letting Todd’s secret out. Unfortunately for him, he never told me that the poetry ordeal was never revealed to Kaydence. So, one morning after breakfast she and I sat in my room conversing about our futures on her pad of paper, because long conversation were easier that way. She told me that she was majoring in creative writing, and I told her I was lost but had considered the same path. Her smile grew immediately. “You mean you write?!” she wrote. I looked at her astonished and disappointed that she hadn’t remembered. I told her that Todd’s first poem was actually mine, to refresh her memory. Her smile turned to smirk, her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head vigorously. “I knew it, I knew it! I wondered why his writing has only gone downhill from there. So you write? Show me. I’m stoked!” she scribbled down between the lines.

Every day since then we shared at least one of our works with the other to be read over, commented, critiqued, edited, and ripped apart. I loved every single second of it, but Todd usually left and played “Tony Hawk Pro-Skater”. We felt terrible for that so we tried to do it when he was at work. We laid in my bed and wrote back and forth for hours. When we were too pooped to continue, we would nap and when we woke we’d start over.

On one of these occasions, I had handed her a poem of mine to divulge in. I watched her intently as I always did. Hoping to see any glimpse of a smile, of understanding, of appreciation, and maybe even admiration. But instead I found her shaking and dragging in deep breaths as if she was trying to suck the last bit of tobacco from a cigarette. My brow furrowed in confusion. She avoided my eyes and instead wrote her thoughts on the paper before her. “Why don’t you ever read to me? I just wish I knew how this went in your mind. I can find rhythm in it, but I want to be shown it. Please, Lyric.” I shrugged my shoulders and said aloud “too long...”and wrote to her on the paper “I don’t know if I can make it sound how it is in my head. I don’t want to disappoint you, or botch the poem.” But all she had to do was let her eyes close slowly and slouch her shoulders just a little to convince me to read it aloud. I cleared my throat and started:

“Kicking remnants of rotten trees

shuffle down the hill

the ground of fallen leaves

the trees used to be a substitute for sunsets

every color

every second

every day

but now the glimpse of life

is few and far between

my feet falter crashing through the weed

soon I stumble and I crumble to my knees

I see

the berries have fallen from the cork screw limbs

there is no water where I used to swim

memories take the shape of naked branches

jutting from the stone

like hands outstretched from forgotten graves

hands with no stories to hold

So I stayed

I caved

I ran my fingers where the bark should be

I followed the trickle of water until I saw the wind ripple it from shore to shore

I gave the scenery all my sympathy

and nothing more.”

I knew I had killed it. I felt my vocal chords tighten in all the wrong places and my tongue

never moved on time. I didn’t know how to fix it, so I looked to her. I hadn’t realized my hand

had found its way to hers during my struggle and we clenched our fingers simultaneously. I found

rhythm in the pulse and my irrational breath was calmed. She laid her head on my shoulder as we

sat in the bed. Her arm reached over and her pen scribbled “thanks” on the poem before me. A

second later the letters were blotched by my saline sadness.

The next night when Todd went home early, she and I lay on the couch together watching a show on VH1 about Def Leppard. Finally, I found use in the annoying subtitles that covered one fifth of the screen. She hated the band but knew how much they meant to me so she stayed. But I was tired from the previous days events and Kaydence’s warm body pressed into me so perfectly that the only option I had was to fall asleep. I would wake up occasionally for a second and she was still next to be with her eyes glued to the screen. But every time I woke up she would pull her hand back and raise it for me to hold. It felt wrong to be so close to her but her fingers locked into mine and she would squeeze them gently with a rhythmic beat and soon enough I would fall again.

It had been a year since the accident, but I still had trouble coping at times. Usually I would just sit alone in the corner of my room next to the guitars that I could never manage to rid myself of. I would cry and stare at them and a little while later I would find myself in the basement next to Christian’s drums that had been collecting dust. I would pick up his sticks and tap them together and pretend his arms where mine, but I never hit the drums in case someone had entered the house after my search. A couple days after I laid with Kaydence watching television I had one of these episodes. But this time I was not alone. I was in the basement on my brother’s stool when she found me. She ran over to me and pulled me away from the drums. She tried to drag the up the stairs but we only made it as far as the doorway before we both collapsed in tears. I lay on the ground caressing her leg muffling my cries in her pants pocket as she stroked my hair. A few minutes later she pulled herself down to me and held me tightly. When I had calmed down she pulled away and look me directly in the eyes and touched her lips so I knew she was going to speak soon. “Remember the Def Leppard Show?” I nodded once I comprehended. She handed me a note she had written out.

And it read as follows:

Lyric,

Todd has shown me all the recordings of your old band. It is easy to hear the passion you have for music in your guitar, lyrics, and voice. Why give up now? I know that you are deaf, and maybe this sounds dumb but why let it stop you. When we were at your house watching that show on VH1 they talked about their drummer. He lost an arm but he kept going. He made a drum set that would still let him play well in the new situation. So I was thinking maybe you could play drums. I don’t know much about them but I figured since you are dealing with vibrations and you know what all the drums sound like you could still create great rhythms and beats without being able to hear them. Maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about but I hate seeing you so upset and I figured it was worth a try.

Love Always,

Kaydence

At first I thought it was a ridiculous idea, but eventually she convinced me to try it. So she and Todd and she helped me get back into the rhythm of things. The feeling was so unreal. I knew what sounds to expect but they were not there, only vibrations surrounded me. I started with the basics and soon enough I was back into the swing of things. I had Todd listen to me and critique my techniques. Finally my life had a meaning again and I felt at home behind his drum set for the first time.

That summer passed and I continued to practice while they were at school. During the following spring break they both came down to visit me. I had spent the entire night before writing and had only managed to come up with a few lines. Hours of thought went into putting my feelings on paper but only a few measly lines were born. Still, I kept them tucked between the cloth of my pocket for the next day.

That following night we headed out to some club. On the ride there I slid the half sheet of cumpled lined paper to Kaydence across the leather seat. She turned her face to point of the window so I could not read the expression on her face. I glanced to Todd and then mimicked Kaydence by letting my eyes dart from the dead patches of grass that flew by. When we arrived Todd bought only himself and I drinks since Kaydence had no desire to ever try the stuff. Soon, they went out on the dance floor. I watched them for awhile feeling like an idiot staring at a swaying crowd smiling. After a couple songs they pulled me onto the dance floor and I stumbled around making a fool out of myself on purpose. Soon enough I felt in the way. Everyone there was grinding against someone and Kaydence and Todd deserved some time alone. I stepped off the dance floor and snuck out the door. I sat in the back by the dumpster and when I couldn’t stand the stench any longer I went for a stroll. I hadn’t reached the sidewalk in front of the place before I felt someone watching me. I turned around and there she was. She said something but it was too fast for me to read. She placed her arm around my waist. The hairs on my arms raised and my stomach made a nice double knot that would make a kindergarten teacher proud.

She ran into the trees that bordered the sidewalk. I was careful not to lose my balance as I followed close behind. She stopped when she found a small circular clearing between the trees. She stood there looking so innocent and the way moonlight struck her hair through the budding trees made her shine brighter than ever. I circled around her burning her into my memory. Her skin was so smooth and her muscles so defined in her jeans and tank top. After I divulged her beauty, she stepped towards me slowly. I couldn’t move. She grabbed my hand and put it to her lips “What do you want more than anything?” I could only think one thing, but it was not my place to provoke her, but my fingers lingered on her lips and it was just another reminder of what I desired. I pulled her close and felt her trembling against me. I put my mouth to her ear and paused for a second. Her uneven breath moistened my exposed ears. I breathed “I want to know your voice” I paused as I prepared myself to form the words correctly. I wanted to be perfectly understood. After one lasted deep inhale I let my thoughts loose.” I want to know your sound.”

In moments like that people whisper “I love you’s” and things to that effect, but no matter what she whispered to me all I would feel was a warm humid breeze. My passion was audio and my love was she and neither were an opportunity. So I dropped my hands from her waist and pulled away as she mouthed “What is your secret”. She gazed intently at me waiting for it to be revealed, but I couldn’t let my secret be reveal. I thought she was ready, and she probably was but I found it was myself who needed the push. I hesitated looking for the right words. Something short and sweet, something easy to pronounce, but there was nothing. The only words coursing through my brain were those from the note in her jeans.

I stole the air from my surroundings pressing it into the alveoli of my lungs and held it there. I wasn’t ready but I needed her to understand. So I recited the phrase for her with the pauses where they should be, and emphasis on the right words. Although I said it slower than it was meant to sound I felt it come out right “My secrets are not on the tip of my tongue but of my fingers. I’ve told you time and time again. I wish that just once you would show me that you heard.”and with that I let eyes fall and my body trace my footsteps back to the dumpster.

I sat there on the curb waiting for the night to turn. I felt the breeze behind me as the door opened. Kaydence sat down next to me. She started talking, apparently to herself because her lips were moving a mile a minute and she was facing the ground. After about 3 minutes of this she stopped and turned to me with such a horrified look on her face. Then she mouthed “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Lyric...I’m not thinking straight”. I nodded my head and asked her to start over. All she said was “ I told him.” I looked at her with confusion and anticipation of the rest of her story but there was no more. She just leaned in and kissed me. Her lips against mine, her tongue against mine, our hearts intertwined.

We took a cab home because Todd had stormed out of the bar in a fit of anger. I smiled my first smile solely for myself since the accident. We held hands the whole way home and we got to be just kids. I got to be a kid again for an hour in my everlasting silence and this time it didn’t bother me one bit.

When we got home I asked Kaydence to call Todd. He didn’t answer, but a few days later he came over. He just swung open the door to my room and fell onto my bed. He just laid there staring that the ceiling so I laid next to him and copied. I watched the tears roll from the corner of his eyes. “I miss him you know.” I stayed quiet due to the shock he was not talking about Kaydence. I put my hand in his and absorbed his emotions. “Yeah, I know. Me too.”

Suddenly I had an idea. I shot up and grabbed Christians cd case off of my shelf. I shoved it in my stereo. And said “Uhhh your going to have to let me watch you sing this so I know what the hell is going on.” He laughed and smirked in reply. “Pour Some Sugar on Me” started and I started singing after I caught on to where Todd was. We hopped around and listened to that song on repeat for awhile until we were to exhausted to do so anymore. We returned to bed and took a wonderful nap. When I awoke Todd was scrambling to find his shoes. I stared at him questioningly. “Work.” he said. I followed him to the door and opened it for him as he got his old leather jacket on. I grinned at it remembering the first time I ever wore it. The perfect day. Todd smiled back. As he walked out the doorway he turned and said “About Kaydence...Love is Love...and she always liked you better anyway.” I felt my smile flicker and my heart sank. “I don’t want to hurt you.” I groaned. He just hopped down the steps and once he reached the bottom he shrugged his shoulders and said “Never, Lyric. No worries, mate.”

Now here I sit, in the back seat of Todd’s car with he and Kaydence in front of me. I watch them bob their head to the music and find myself doing the same. I spent the whole time reminiscing about the past and now I can see the parking lot of the place where we all played our first and last show. The building looks the same and so do the people inside it. As we set up our stuff and can feel my heart racing. Almost an instant later I am on stage in the back behind Christian’s drum set ready to count us off, and I do. I smack the sticks together “One.Two.THREE.” I go to town on a different double bass this time. Stomping my feet to the beat in my head. I love the sensation of the vibrations shooting from the drum, to stick, to body, even to the air that surrounds me. The vibrations engulf me and I bow my head, entranced by the feeling. Everything is going smoothly until we get to the break down of the song. Suddenly, something changes, the air seems stale. My eyes dart from Todd to Kaydence and the other band members and every single one of them was standing there looking at me paying no attention to their instruments. And it is right now that I mark a new beginning to my life. I let go. I let my worries and fears escape me and I let this horrifying situation become my canvas. I might be deaf but I sure as hell am not color blind. So this time I didn’t make one mistake because I finally realize when you improvise there is no such thing.

Reviews

[Stacey]

DUDE! BEAUTIFULLLL.

"My passion was audio and my love was she and neither were an opportunity."