The
kitchen smelled like his uncle’s infamous buttermilk pancakes and maple smoked
bacon, and there, waiting for him at the table, was a heaping plate. All that
was missing was the coffee, which he made short work of doctoring up before
sitting down.
God
that smelled good. Eyes closed, he inhaled the scent of freshly ground beans
before savoring the first sip, only to suddenly find himself relieved of the
cup.
“What
the hell!”
The
nonchalant look on his uncle’s face as he took a swig quickly morphed into a
grimace, before he dumped it down the sink. “How the hell can you drink it like
that. It’s like coffee flavored milk with a heap of sugar tossed in,” his uncle
groused.
“’Cause
that’s how I like it!” Dez growled, standing to go make himself another.
“Sit
down and leave the blasted coffee alone, you don’t need it, you’re jittery
enough.”
“And
denying me my coffee is supposed to help with that?”
“Maybe,
guess we’ll have to wait and see.”
“Oh,
for fuck’s sake.”
“Relax
and eat your breakfast.”
“How
am I supposed to relax when….”
His
uncle’s raised eyebrow ended his tirade before he could get started, and he
busied himself with drowning his pancakes in syrup as a way of avoiding eye
contact. The pancakes, usually so sweet and fluffy, tasted like sawdust and
landed with a heaviness in his gut that made it churn, or maybe it was just the
nerves that had been steadily growing the closer it came to this day.
“Are
you sure you can’t get my bike fixed before it’s time to go?” he blurted.
“How
many times do I have to tell you no?”
“Just…it
never takes you this long to figure out what’s wrong with it.”
“Could
be ‘cause I don’t want to figure out what’s wrong with it.”
Blinking,
Dez could only stare at his uncle, mouth half hanging over for several
heartbeats. “But…why.”
“I
don’t want you on it.”
Point
blank, no other explanation, his uncle went right back to eating while Dez sat
there glaring at him in frustrated disbelief.
“You
might as well eat,” Jordan remarked as he sat down to his own plate. “The guys
will be here soon and you know it’ll be awhile before you have pancakes like
these again. Better savor them while you have the chance.”
His
cousin had a point, but Dez couldn’t bring himself to lift the fork again. “If
you weren’t going to fix it, why didn’t you just tell me so I could find
someone who would!”
“I
had every intention of fixing it,” his uncle replied, sipping the bitter black
coffee he always drank. “Still do.”
“Then
why…”
The
look his uncle shot him knocked the fire right out of him. Shoulders slumped,
he sighed heavily and poked holes in his pancake with his fork.
“These
guys seem like a really good group,” his uncle remarked. “I want you to give
them and yourself a chance to keep getting to know one another. You can’t do
that if you’re following behind them on the bike.”
“Yeah,
I know, I just, if shit goes sideways, I’m stuck.”
“Good.”
“Good!
How is it good to be stranded with three guys who don’t want me there!”
“’Cause
these three guys do want you there.”
“Now.
But what happens when that changes.”
“Think
about what you just said.”
Frowning,
Dez sat trying to figure out what the hell his uncle meant.
“You
said when,” Jordan supplied when it became clear Dez wasn’t going to get
it. “Not if. When, like it was a forgone conclusion that it was going to
happen.”
“My
point exactly. You’re already going into this expecting things to go wrong.
Letting you have your bike so you can take off for god knows where at the
slightest provocation wouldn’t do you, or the rest of the band, any favors.”
“But…”
“No
buts kid, now eat your food. I’m not going to leave you without a lifeline, you
should know that by now. If something happens that can’t be fixed, call me and
I’ll make sure you get back home, safe, which isn’t a guarantee if you’re
tearing around on the back of that bike.”
“I’m
always safe when I’m riding my girl.”
“No,
you’re lucky, which is a completely different thing.”
“Dad’s
right. You get tunnel vision when you’re pissed. Look at what happened in
Duluth.”
“That
wasn’t tunnel vision, it was an icy patch on the road that I didn’t see.”
“And
why didn’t you see it?” Jordan prodded.
Dez
grumbled, muttering the answer beneath his breath as he carved another piece
out of his pancake.
Chuckling,
Jordan nudged his arm. “What was that?”
“I
was obsessing over something that had happened to my friend Koda. There were
bruises on his arm and back and he wouldn’t tell me what happened. I was on my
way to his place, running over everything I’d planned to say to him to get him
to tell me what was up.”
“Uh-huh,”
his uncle remarked, drumming his fingertips on the table.
“Besides,
you’re taking a lot more equipment than you normally do. Riding home with a
guitar case and bagpipe case strapped to the back is one thing, but you don’t
have enough room on the back of that bike for an electric, an acoustic,
bagpipes, a violin and a cello,” Jordan reminded him. “Not unless you plan to
let the cello drive.”
“Ha.
Ha. Ha.” Dez grumbled. The pancakes were cold now, so was the bacon, but he ate
it anyway, if only so he wasn’t hungry well before the band was ready to stop.
“The
best thing you can do is go into this with a positive mindset and a willingness
to work through any issues that might arise, rather than run from them.”
“I
hear ya.”
“Yes,
but are you willing to put in the work that’s needed to see this thing through
to the end?”
“Yes.”
“You
sure?”
His
fork clanked as he dropped it on the plate and met his uncle’s eyes. “I want
this to work. I’m scared that it won’t, but I do want it to.”
“Then
put that bike out of your head and stop telling yourself that they’re gonna
reject you. Focus on the goals you guys laid out and get ready for
Rocktoberfest. Trust that these guys who were dumped by a bandmate as harshly
as you once were wouldn’t turn around and do it to someone else.”
Dez
nodded, ‘cause on that one thing his uncle did have a point. Honking and the
annoyed barking of the neighbor’s dog announced the band’s arrival and Dez
stood, only to have his uncle’s big paw land on his shoulder, gruffly urging
him to sit back down.
“Finish your food, your cousin and I will take your stuff down for you.”
Tattered Angel can be found on Amazon here!
Only…they’re not the Deviant Angels, their longtime frontman took the name with him when he left, along with their hopes of getting back out on the road again and playing the music they love. Of course, a talented musician like Dez could change all of that for them, if they can convince him that this time, his dreams of rock stardom, and love, can actually come true.
“Okay, so you’re serious, we’re actually doing this?”
The note of skepticism on Riley’s face would have been
laughable, if Dez didn’t already feel so bad about all the time they hadn’t
been spending together.
“I turned off both our phones and threw them in the drawer. Popcorn
is popped, with extra butter, just the way you like it. I warned the guys not
to stop by, and all three locks are on the door. Hell, I even hung that do
not disturb sign we stole from the motel on the back of it to drive the
point home, just in case anyone got a wild hair and decided to pop in. The
afternoon is ours and I’m yours for every millisecond of it.”
When Riley narrowed his eyes at him, Dez wondered what the
hell he could have possibly forgot.
“The computers are turned off?”
“Yup.”
“And your notebook is put away?”
“Locked in the same drawer as the phones.”
Riley looked all around, scrutinizing every corner.
“My guitars are in the music room, all of them. I’m serious,
Riley, no distractions, we’re gonna watch movies and veg.”
“And no movies about music either,” Riley grumbled.
“Nope, I’ve got Hotel Transylvania loaded up, and the
sequels in a pile beside the machine. When we’re done with those, I’ve got the
Ice Age movies lined up. We are one hundred percent completely good to go.”
“One hundred percent, huh?” Riley said, sprawling against
the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“I bet you will,” Dez replied, dropping onto the cushion
beside him and hitting play, while Riley dug into the popcorn.
“Ohh nice, you really went all out with the butter.”
“Against my better judgement, yeah, I did, but don’t blame
me when your next cholesterol check is off the charts and your doc puts you on
meds and orders you to change your diet.
“Duly noted, now how about sharing how you managed to get it
so perfect when every time I make a bag it chars in the center?”
“Simple,” Dez remarked, leaning across him for a handful. “I
pause it halfway through the popping to shake the bag so the heat gets
distributed better.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Damn. I’ll remember that,” Riley replied, snorting at the
dismayed look on the janitors face when it was revealed the clogged toilet was
the result of bigfoot with a stomach ache.
“Oh man, I feel that,” Riley muttered as the janitor let out
a cry and stared forlornly at his plunger. “I don’t know how the fuck he does
it, but every god damned time James is over here he manages to clog the one in
the hall.”
Snickering, Dez watched Frankenstein’s rear end back up
behind the mummy, letting out a green tinged fart cloud the witches were forced
to suck up with bellows and fire into the fireplace flames. Toad stools
actually made of toads, bride of Frankenstein griping about the travel
arrangements, they were laughing and pressed together less than fifteen minutes
into the movie’s opening.
“Okay, I so want a pet bat,” Riley muttered, as pouty bat
face dominated the screen.
“And what happens when Lady Luna Lily decides it would make
good pouncing practice?”
“Uh, yeah, that could be a problem.”
“Could always find you a stuffed one?”
“So Zakk and Damien can laugh their asses off the minute I
carry it onto the RV?”
“You could always leave it here,” Dez offered. “Though in
fairness, you kinda deserve the shade they’d throw your way, considering the
whole Daffy incident.”
“Oh my god, I did not mean to set the damned vest on fire.”
“I don’t know man, was awfully suspicious that it happened
when you were the only one in the RV.”
“In all fairness….” Riley began, words dissolving into
laughter. “Did she seriously say a bad-tempered piranha ate her sister-in-law?”
“She so did.”
“Shit, I wish something would eat mine.”
Laughing, Dez enjoyed the freak out of the human when he
realized the monsters were real, the spinning ping-pong ball of energy bouncing
around the room. There was this moment though, when Frankenhomie, otherwise
known as Jonathan the human, made eye contact with Mavis and the whole eye
swirling, zoned in on one another, fireworks thing happened and Dez couldn’t
resist pulling Riley around to face him.
“That’s how I felt, when I saw you,” Dez murmured, pulling
him in for a kiss. “Wanted to choke the life outta you for making me think
about music again, but I wanted to kiss you too, shove you against the wall, make
out until you couldn’t remember what you were trying to ask me.”
“Like this,” Riley growled, pinning Dez to the back of the
couch, tongue invading his mouth until the sounds of the movie melted away.
Riley’s hair, crushed in his fists, was as soft as feathers, his body molded
against Dez’s, the taste of butter and salt on his lips. Riley sighed, finally
easing away and turning back to the movie.
“Oh ick ick ick!” Dez muttered, cringing about as much as
Dracula was at Jonathan trying to get the contact out of his eyes.
Fingers away from the eyeballs. Enough!
Dez had to agree with Drac on that.
“It’s not that bad,” Riley remarked, laughing at the scrunched-up
look Dez knew was still on his face.
“I’ll take your word for it and continue to refrain from
being anywhere near you when you’re taking yours out at night.”
“Coward.”
“Just call me KFC.”
What’s the alternative, staying at home and never seeing
what’s out there?
Jonathan’s words reminded Dez of the conversations he and
Winter had been having lately, about the way his friend was thinking about
taking off, seeing the things in the journal he kept, all magazine cut outs and
lists of obscure destinations.
“Now that should be a ride,” Riley declared, startling Dez
out of his thoughts. “I’d stand in line all day to get on something like that.”
“I’d be right there with you,” Dez remarked, staring the
flying tables, Drac and Jonathan chasing each other around the dining room,
surfing and shoving one another until they crashed.
“Someday, I wanna be big enough where we can rent out a
whole park for a couple hours, just so we can enjoy the place,” Riley muttered as
the mood of the movie changed again.
“We tour with Wild Child and we could do that easily.”
“If. No one’s agreed on anything yet. Wild Child hasn’t even
chosen their new bassist, they’ve run into the same issue we had trying to find
a singer, only none of them have been lucky enough to wander into a dish room
and find a miracle.”
Just hearing that, Dez felt his face heat up. “Wouldn’t say
I was a miracle.”
“To us you were,” Riley said, pulling him into a kiss.
When their eyes met, Dez felt fireworks all over again, and
he shivered as Riley’s breath ghosted along the skin behind his ear.
“To me, you always will be,” Riley whispered. “Always.”
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