Fly the Rain (7 page)

“
In about ten
minutes.”

**********

“
Hey, where are you guys
going?” Craig rushed around to the front of the group of fifteen or
so kids who were heading for the door.

“
We’re tired of listening to
bands,” said one girl.

“
Yeah, it’s getting boring,
Man,” said one of the boys.

Even Craig had to admit that
the current band,
The Orange
Peelers
, was not that good. But Cindy
and her band was up next. They would be the last band of the night.
He needed all the kids to stay so they could cheer loudly and
persuade Billy-Eye to hire her band.

Just as the kids reached the door, it
opened, and four dazzling young women walked in. Each one was
wearing a black, tight stretchy T-shirt and shorts, partially
covered by a bright orange long-tailed tuxedo coat. The women stood
five inches taller than usual in their black and orange high-heeled
boots.

Without even speaking to each other, all of
the would-be defectors changed their minds and turned to follow the
women.

The Orange Peelers finished their last song,
and began to pack up their equipment and carry it off the
stage.

Craig walked over to where Billy-Eye was
standing.

“
So, this must be Cindy’s
band,” said Billy-Eye.

“
Yeah. Well, it’s not
really
her
band. But she’s the drummer.”

“
They
look
hot. I’ll give you that.
What do they call themselves?”

Craig was about to answer
when he saw Sondra take a king size bed sheet out of a bag, and
drape it over the blackboard. The bold, orange lettering
read
Orange Puke
. There were splatters of orange and green paint around the
edges that were apparently supposed to be vomit. “There you go.”
Craig pointed to the sheet.

“
That’s the funniest name
I’ve seen all night.” Billy-Eye laughed. But they’d better be
awfully good if they expect to win. Because I really liked
Chemical Rose
.”

There’s a long road on the
outskirts of Orange that’s lined with petroleum plants. It’s known
as Chemical Row. If you’re visiting the city, you might want to
hold your nose when you drive down it. Orangites are used to the
stink. So, one of the bands thought it would be funny to name
themselves
Chemical
Rose
. When Sondra had heard the name,
she wished she had thought of it herself.

Craig watched to see how the crowd was
responding. By the end of their first song, the kids had gathered
near the bandstand for a close look at the flashy girls on stage.
Their music was somewhat better than that of the other bands, but
Craig was not at all certain that Billy-Eye was being swayed.
Sondra had told him that the special song she wrote would be last.
She had assured him that it would give them the edge over the other
bands.

Cindy went into a drum solo as the other
three women took off their guitars and set them in their stands.
They walked around behind the blackboard.

“
What are they doing?” said
Billy-Eye.

“
I don’t know,” said Craig.
But he hoped it worked.

When they walked out, they
looked no different. They picked up their guitars and strapped them
on as Cindy continued to go crazy on the drums. Boomer was the
first to join in. Her five-string bass rattled everything that
wasn’t tied down. The standard bass guitar comes with four strings:
E-A-D-G. But her bass had a fifth string—the B below the E. Her
lowest notes could be
felt
more than heard.

Next, Sondra joined in on rhythm guitar.
Finally, E. Z. came in with a screeching lead guitar lick.

All this was a dramatic
lead-in to Sondra’s song,
Puking My Guts
Out (All Over You)
. It was in E Minor,
with a driving beat. Sondra sang lead, with the other three singing
backup on the choruses.

Yapping with a babe in the parking lot,
You had a tight butt and a really hot car.
I took you for a ride and blew your mind.
But you burned my tires, threw me into the fire.

I try to pretend you didn’t hurt me.
Nobody hurts me.
But then I get this raunchy feeling way down inside.

And I’m puking my guts out,
I’m puking my guts out,
I’m puking my guts out
All over you,
All over you.

(E. Z.’s guitar solo)

Stomped me flat without a sound.
You buried my soul in the deep, deep ground.
I’m blacker than black, cold as stone.
I’m dead to the world since you left me alone.

I try to pretend you didn’t hurt me.
Nobody hurts me.
But then I get this raunchy feeling way down inside.

And I’m puking my guts out,
I’m puking my guts out,
I’m puking my guts out
All over you.
All over you,
All over you,
All over you,
All over you!

For the last
all over you
,
Sondra, E. Z., and Boomer slung their guitars to their backs and
stepped to the edge of the stage. They sang the last line
a capella
, and
then, in unison, threw their heads back. Then they barfed into the
crowd. And it wasn’t a tiny spew. They blew out a couple of quarts
each.

The kids screamed and tried to get away from
the chunky orange goo.

Billy-Eye yelled at Craig. “What is
this?”

Craig was as confused and upset as his
father. “I don’t know.”

“
Well they just
lost!
”

Craig couldn’t argue. It was no use. As
badly as he wanted to please Cindy, he couldn’t justify this kind
of behavior. Kids might not ever come back after this.

The three women stepped back
from the edge of the stage, and Cindy stood up at her drums.
Then
Orange Puke
took a slow, dignified bow—as though they had just performed
Mozart for the Queen of England.

They’ve got a lot of nerve, thought
Craig.

Then the screaming died down. Some kids were
beginning to laugh.

One boy yelled, “Taste it!”

“
Gross!”

“
No, really.”

“
He’s right! It tastes like
orange juice!”

“
But what are these
chunks?”

A boy licked his arm. “I think it’s
oatmeal.”

More and more of the kids
began to realize that they hadn’t really been sprayed with barf. It
was just a gimmick. A
cool
gimmick. The coolest
gimmick ever!

Orange Puke had been disgusting only five
minutes earlier. Now they were the hottest thing in town.

Billy-Eye had seen and heard enough. He
grabbed Craig by the shoulders. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go
tell them they got the job!”

Chapter
9

Craig hurried to the stage, zigzagging his
way across the floor of orange puddles. He ran up the stairs to
meet Sondra. “Are you crazy?” He tried to give her a stern look,
but then broke into laughter.

“
Did we get the
job?”

“
Yes, you did.”

Boomer walked over to Sondra and gave her a
high five. “Yeah, Baby.”

E. Z. grinned. She couldn’t believe Sondra’s
weird idea had worked.

“
How did you do it?” said
Craig. “I mean, how did you get it in your mouth? You were singing,
and then you just spit it out.”

Sondra smiled proudly, turned her back to
him, and pointed to the white tube hanging out the top of her tux
coat behind her neck. The tip of it had some of the orange stuff on
it. Then she turned back around and opened the left side of her
coat, revealing an old-fashioned hot water bottle.

“
We mixed up some Tang and a
little oatmeal. Then, when the time came, we released this little
thing.” She pointed to the crimp clamp on the tube. “Then we
reached back and grabbed the top of the tube like this.” She pulled
it around with her left hand, and pointed it at Craig, placing her
hands to the sides of her mouth. “And then smashed down on the
bottle like this.” She raised her arm, ready to fire her goo
gun.

Craig held up his hands and stepped back.
“Okay—I get it.”

“
Works like a charm,” said
Sondra.

“
Yes, it does,” he said.
“And it was the thing that put you over the top. Daddy liked your
music, but I think he liked
Chemical
Rose
better. Then you blew chunks all
over the kids, and I thought he was going to skin you alive. You
really took a big chance with this stunt.”

“
I like to live on the
edge,” said Sondra.

“
Well, I’m glad it worked
out. Once Daddy saw that the kids thought it was cool, he knew
they’d want to bring all their friends here. But just don’t do it
again.”

“
Why not?”

E. Z. stepped in. “That’s fine, right? We
got the job. We don’t have to do it anymore.”

Sondra snarled at her.
“It’s
my
call. I’m the leader of this band. So, shut up!”

“
Anybody else got any
comments?” She waited. “Good!”

**********

Craig led Cindy Banya into the office. The
other band members had already walked out to the parking lot. He
tried to focus on her face as he talked, but his eyes kept
gravitating to her incredibly long sexy legs. For once, he almost
wished he could look two directions at the same time—like
Billy-Eye. “I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your
playing tonight.”

“
Thanks.”

“
No, really. You’re a great
drummer.”

“
I’m okay.” Just as Craig
was about to speak, she said, “Well I’d better get home now. It’s
after midnight. And I live with my parents, you know.”

“
Oh, I’m sure they would
understand. After all, you’re a grown woman.” And
what
a woman, he
thought.

“
I can do whatever I want,
sure. But it’s about respect. My family still lives by the
traditions and values of the old country.”

“
Russia.”

“
Yes.”

“
But you were born here in
the U. S.”

“
It doesn’t
matter.”

“
Aw, come on—at least give
me a little kiss.” Craig took her in his arms. He was about to
devour her full, sweet lips.

“
This is not what I want.”
Cindy did not pull away. Clearly, she assumed he was a gentleman,
and would be respectful of her wishes.

He did not loosen his grip. “What do you
mean? I thought you liked me.”

“
There is a time and a
place.”

Craig released her,
wondering how he could have misread her intentions. He had worked
hard to get her into a band, and help that band get a job. Had she
just been
using
him?

The door flew open. It was Billy-Eye, and he
did not look happy. “You need to quit messing around, and get out
here and manage your staff. This place has got to be cleaned up
tonight.”

“
Okay,” said Craig. But he
didn’t budge.

“
Now!” Billy-Eye
bellowed.

**********

The house was dark. Sondra tiptoed up the
stairs and across the wooden porch. When a board creaked, she
winced. She slipped into the house quietly, and turned on the lamp
near the door.

“
It’s about time!” Val was
sitting in her recliner, holding a whisky glass.

“
You’re drunk,” said
Sondra.

“
And you’re a
murderer.”

Sondra hesitated. “What are you talking
about?”

Val’s mouth gradually formed
a smile. Then it stretched too far—until she looked like The Joker
from
Batman
.
“I saw you leave with that boy the other night. The one who came
here looking for you. Mitch. The next day, the police found a body
in the river.”

“
So?” Sondra said, without
emotion.

Val picked up the newspaper from the small
table beside her chair and threw it at Sondra.

Sondra scanned the headlines.

There it was—a picture of Mitch. The article
said that his parents weren’t sure why he was in Orange, and didn’t
know of anyone who would want to hurt their son. “That’s too bad.
He seemed like a nice kid.” She dropped the newspaper on the
couch.

“
Why did you kill him,
Sondra? Did he try to make a move on you?”

“
What makes you think I
killed him? Or that I would kill
anyone?
” She paused. “I guess
now you think you need to turn me in.”

“
Not necessarily,” she
slurred.

“
Because if you’re planning
to call the police, I want you to tell me right now—so I can
murder
you
,
just like I murdered
him
.”

Val froze.

Sondra snickered. “You get crazy in the head
when you’re drunk, Old Woman. I’m going to bed.”

Sondra walked past her mother. She could
have easily stepped behind Val’s chair and snapped her neck. She
went into her bedroom, and shut the door.