Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (12 page)

###  

The quartet played for about 45 minutes, and I found myself enjoying each number more than the last.  I was jolted out of what had felt like a daydream when they suddenly stopped for a break.  As the audience burst into applause, Josh came to the edge of the stage and motioned for everyone to quiet down.  I wondered what
was going on.

"You guys are a great crowd tonight!" he announced.  Everyone cheered.  "It feels so great to be back after all these weeks.  And to make up for the lost time, I've got a special treat for you.  The sweet sounds of flutist Melinda Rhodes!"

Wait a second, did he just call
me
?  Surely it had to be someone else with my name.  But when I looked around, no one else budged.  Josh peered into the audience, searching.

"Mel?" 
he
called into the microphone. 
"You out there?"

Somehow I managed to make my legs stand up, but I still didn't move.  Josh locked eyes with me and broke into a grin.  "Come up here, Melinda," he said.  "Don't be afraid."

"Yeah, go up there, Melinda," one of the blondes at my table repeated loudly.  "Go see what the cutie wants."

I thought I was about to faint, but I made my way to the stage.  Josh crouched down, ready to greet me.

"What are you
doing
?" I asked.

"It'll be okay," he insisted.  He motioned to the rest of the band.  "Let's go, they're waiting."

My mouth fell open.  "What..?"  I realized what he was getting at.  "Oh, no," I told him.  "I don't play jazz!  If I go up there, I'll make a complete fool of myself."

"No you won't," he insisted.  "It's easy.  I'll show you."

"But ... I don't even have my flute!"

He shrugged.  "You can use Marty's."

"But ... but... but," I sputtered like a broken-down car.

"Come on, Melinda," the blonde called out again.  I turned around and glared at her, but she was unfazed —- or really drunk.  "Go on, honey," she slurred.  "I know you can do it."

"Yeah, come on, Mel," Josh said, chuckling.  He grabbed the
mic.
  "Everyone, let's help my friend out here."

"Mel, Mel, Mel, Mel," a low chant began.

"Mel, Mel, Mel!"  Josh chimed in.  He signaled to the crowd, encouraging
everyone to join in.
             

"MEL, MEL, MEL, MEL!" 
everyone
yelled.  I sighed and climbed up onto the stage, figuring that since I was already thoroughly humiliated, nothing could be worse.  The bar erupted into hoots and hollers.

"Yeah, Mel!" a guy in the back cried. 
"
Wooooo
!"

As I looked out into the crowd, which now seemed to be made up of about a million people, I wondered if this was really a dream, you know, like the kind where you show up to school naked and then find out that you have to give a report.

But this was no dream.  Dreams don't smell like rancid beer.

###

The noise died down as Josh handed me Marty's flute.  I took it, but the instrument felt unfamiliar in my hands.  "Now just do what I do," Josh murmured to me, as he led me to a seat.  "Chuck's going to play an opening riff on the keyboard.  After eight measures, Marty will come in, and then I will.  Next it'll be your turn."

I groaned, seriously questioning my sanity and Josh's.  Yet I actually sat down and held the flute to my lips.  "The song starts in F and transitions to G and then C at the bridge," Josh informed me.  "Just stay in those keys as best you can.  And remember, there are no wrong notes.  It's entirely in your hands."

That didn't make me feel much better, but I brightened as Chuck and Dave began the jaunty melody.  This was one of those tunes that just
repeats
itself over and over again, so by the time Josh and Marty were playing their parts, I had it stuck in my head.  Josh pulled back his trumpet to smile at me as I —- somewhat successfully —- followed along.  I've always been able to play along with the radio, so this was a little like that.  Only when I played by ear, I usually didn't have hordes of people watching me and waiting for me to mess up.

I was beginning to have fun as we repeated the verse, but Josh wasn't going to let me off so easily.  "Now improvise," he instructed.  Marty and Chuck were busy switching off verses of their own.

"How?"
I whispered.

"Just do it," he said.

I took a deep breath and envisioned each scale in my head.  I then began to randomly choke out notes.  At first, I'm sure I sounded like a dying bird, but after a few measures, improvising became easier.  I added in some more complicated runs and trills, being careful to keep in time with Chuck and Dave.  I didn't sound nearly
as accomplished as Josh or Marty but my solo was well, passable.  The urge to vomit left me. 

After what seemed like forever, my turn came to an end and Chuck finished up the tune with a round of arpeggios and flourishes.  Josh motioned for me to stand up and take a bow.  I was shocked when the crowd went wild, jumping out of their seats and cheering.  Josh was applauding, too.

###

We left the club around eleven-thirty, though given how long my solo had been, I was sure it was more like four in the morning.  I waved goodbye to Chuck and Marty, winding through the crowd in a daze.  Once we got to the parking lot, I broke out of my haze and shoved Josh as hard as I could.

"You ass!"
I shouted.  He doubled over with laughter.  "Why the hell did you do that to me?  I nearly died out there!"

"You didn't die," he said in between giggles.  "They loved you out there.  You were a hit."

"I thought I was going to pee in my pants."

He wiped a tear from his eye.  "Then maybe you wouldn't have been such a hit.  But really," he said, getting more serious, "you did a great job.  I was impressed."

I blushed and ran my hand through my hair.  "It
was
very cool being up on stage," I admitted.

"Isn't it?" 
he
agreed, his eyes shining.  "Those guys are the best.  And we had a great crowd, too.  It's always so much better when you have a good audience."

"I couldn't believe they were all chanting for me.  I mean, who chants for a
flute player
?"

"They wanted to see if you’re really talented," he reasoned, "and you proved that you are."

"There are much better ways I could've done that," I replied.

Josh smirked.  "Like what?  Playing in recitals your whole life?  That's nice and everything, but it's so tame.  Wasn't this so much better, Mel?" 
he
asked, leaning in close.  I shivered.  "Wasn't it nice playing without the constraints of sheet music... getting the chance to be free?"

I nodded.  "It was.  It was kind of like being in control and out of control at
the same time."

"That's it exactly!" he exclaimed.

I pointed a finger at him.  "But if I ever do this again --and that's a big 'if' --
please
give me some warning.  I like being prepared."

Josh rolled his eyes. "What fun is that?"

CHAPTER 10

As November approached, my schoolwork piled up.  Since the holidays were now right around the corner, every teacher rushed to cram in assignments.  I'd hardly gotten any sleep, and by the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I was a mess.

"Last night I dreamt about molecules," I complained to Josh on our now-routine ride to school.  "I was being chased by big complex carbohydrates that wanted to be broken down."

"You really
need to get some rest," he replied, peering into my bloodshot eyes.  "You're exhausted.  You're
gonna
kill yourself."

"It's just for a few more days.  Once Thanksgiving comes, I'll have plenty of time to practice and paint ... and sleep."  Though I was looking forward to spending more time in my nice, comfy bed, I was also anxious to finish my paintings.  By now I'd done six of my latest series, each with a different "scene" in what should've been the white of the eye.  I didn't care what Lana said; I thought they looked cool.  And I liked having them surround my bed.  It was as if they were watching over and protecting me.

"So that's the exciting weekend you have planned?" Josh said.  "No big turkey dinner or watching football games?"

I made a face.  "Are you kidding me?  My
dad'll
probably spend most of his day at the hospital and my mom will be with my grandfather.  Then when they come home, my mom will probably serve up some kind of disgusting health food and then they'll find something to lecture me about."  I sighed.  "Not fun." 
             
Truth be told, I wasn't even sure I was going to show my face at dinner this year.  Last year, she and my dad got into a huge argument about his mother; they then forgot to take the turkey out of the oven and it burned to a crisp.  This year, Mom already sat me down to discuss the menu and which items she thought I could eat.  "You can't have gravy," she told me, "or the creamed spinach or pumpkin pie.  I know it's a special occasion but it's during the holidays that people gain the most weight.  Stick to the white meat turkey and the peas and carrots."  Yeah, this was not exactly going to be the all-American dinner they show on TV.  Those families never have to resort to eating dry turkey and canned veggies.  Yum!

"Well, you're lucky that you're at least getting to do something for the holiday," Josh said, sounding wistful.  "My mom has to work at the
diner
that night so it's going to be me, a big bag of chips and a
Twilight Zone
marathon."  He hummed a few measures of the
Twilight Zone
theme.  "Who knows?" 
he
said in his best imitation of a horror movie voice, "Maybe I'll be sucked into another dimension! 
Bwahaha
."

"Stop," I said, laughing.  I had an idea.  "Know what?  You should come to
our house."

He snorted.  "After the description you just gave me?  How can I resist?"

"Oh come on," I said, ignoring his sarcasm.  "It'll be fun.  With you there, my parents will be on their best behavior and I might even be able to sneak in some real food."

Josh's eyes widened.  "I just can't believe that I'm finally going to meet the legendary Hank and Lydia."

"If you tell them that, they'll love you," I said.  I knew that I was setting myself up for aggravation by bringing Josh.  Mom would want to know if he's my boyfriend and then wouldn't understand when I explained that we're just friends.  My dad would probably just grunt, annoyed that he had to make small talk with a stranger.  But I hated the thought of Josh sitting at home alone when he could be near me.  Introducing him to my parents would most likely
suck
, but having him over would give me something to look forward to.

"I guess it's about time you met them," I said.  "Though I'm warning you, my folks are weird.  Don't expect them to be like your mom,
who's
you know, all welcoming.  Mine will probably treat you like a freak or a criminal until you can prove otherwise.   Prepare to enter the vortex of
suckitude
!"  I held out my arms for effect.

Josh cracked up.  "See now, that really does sound like
The Twilight Zone
."

###

As I predicted, my parents were not pleased to be getting a dinner guest.

"Mel, I have so much to do this weekend," my mom complained as we sat chopping vegetables.  In order to get into their good graces, I'd picked up some groceries on the way home and got right to work preparing the food.  "I have to go see my father; I also volunteered to help serve the holiday lunch at his home.  I don't have time to prepare a feast."  She furiously hacked at the carrots, gripping her knife so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"But I'll make most of the dishes," I said.  I carefully cut some peppers, making sure my fingers didn't become part of the dish.  "I can do the potatoes and creamed spinach, and even the pie."  I'm not a great cook, but I can make scrambled eggs and brownies.  I didn't think any of these dishes would be any more difficult, especially if I followed a recipe.  I was determined to serve Josh something decent.

Mom frowned.  "I thought we discussed you not eating those things," she said, eyeing my figure.  I was wearing my favorite gray sweats and a blue hoodie.  Not
exactly a flattering look, but I was comfortable.  Despite her not noticing, I had lost some weight.  I mean, it wasn't like I was really trying, but I'd been running around so much, it just came off somehow.  Still, I knew she wouldn't be satisfied until I was stick thin.

"Look, we have to have at least some normal food," I said.  "How would you like it if you went to eat at someone's house and all they served you were peas and carrots?"

She just sighed and sliced the carrots into even smaller pieces.

###

On Thursday, I slept almost until noon,
then
got to work on the rest of the meal.  By now, both of my parents were out of the house and I enjoyed having the place to myself.  It meant that I could do things my way without having my mom hover over me.