Double Tears
Part IX: Syncopation
Chapter 99
“These are only the nonsense ravings of a weak and perverse mind.”
—E.C. Lemus, The Master of the Realities
I AGREED TO WATCH PEY most of the first week of June. Mom was working on an arrangement with the other Moms of the pod with younger kids. They were creating their own camp for the summer and were depending on the rest of us to be counselors. It was funny how our pod was suddenly a resource for childcare for the summer and how the parents were coming together in their own support group.
This week, my responsibility was to get Pey to swimming lessons. Livy was driving her sibs as well. Rachel not only had to take Richard but also pick up Brittany and her two younger sisters. We had six kids to get to the Y in time for the first lesson at nine. The kids weren’t all at the same level, so they were scattered among three different classes. And there had to be an adult with them at all times. I guess we qualified as far as the Y was concerned. In addition to the swimming instruction time, the kids had time in the ‘play pool’, too. The Y was connected to the waterpark and we all liked going there.
In the afternoon, there was an activity center the kids all went to and we ‘adults’ got a three-hour break. The first thing we did was collect Beca and Desi. Beca was still reeling over Joan’s sudden departure for service. I could tell tears were never far from her eyes. Desi was focused on getting ready for the show circuit that would launch with Indy PopCon in two weeks.
Tuesday, Desi brought me a challenge.
“What is this?” I asked. I knew what it was supposed to be, I thought, but it didn’t look like what I thought it would. The body looked like a lute. The neck was longer, like a guitar. And the head, instead of being either flat like a guitar or bent back like a lute, was scrollwork like a violin.
“It’s sort of a lute,” Desi said.
“Sort of? You know I don’t know how to play a lute?”
“That’s why Riley created this.”
“Riley built a lute?”
“No, he bought it. I mean he created it for your character. It’s a lute guitar. The tuning can be varied, but it will be easiest to use your normal guitar tuning. It just looks like a really cool lute,” Desi said. It had a deep round back and would take some getting used to in order to hold it correctly.
“Why don’t I just carry my guitar, then?” I asked.
“How much is your guitar worth?” she asked.
“Um… About twelve grand,” I mumbled.
“Jesus, Jacob! Have you insured it? Riley said it was too expensive to use as a costume prop at a show but I don’t think he had any idea it was that expensive. This is worth about three hundred. That’s as much as Riley was willing to invest, even with the number of shows we have this summer,” Desi said.
I was still stuck back on insurance. Crap! I wondered if Dad had insured the guitar or if it was covered under our homeowner’s policy. And what about when it wasn’t at home. I’d casually stored it in the instrument locker at school. Anyone with access could have walked away with it. Cindy kept her flute in her personal locker, but you should see the padlock she had on that. And since I’d be in orchestra this year, I’d need my guitar every day. I had to talk to Cindy and her mother about security and make sure my instrument was insured. Why the hell hadn’t Mr. Bryce flagged that on my Entrepreneurship business plan?
“Earth to Jacob,” Desi said, waving a hand in front of my face.
“Sorry, Desi. You just got me thinking about something,” I said. She hefted her boobs up toward my face. I shook my head.
“So, this instrument looks renaissancy. It’s tuned so you can play it. It doesn’t sound bad. And if it gets stolen or damaged it’s an inconvenience, not a catastrophe. All you have to do is learn some Renaissance music. Are we good?” she asked.
“We’re good,” I said. “You haven’t given me a movie or anime to show me what my character is based on.”
“It’s not. The newest version of A Bard’s Tale was released and is gaining popularity now. You’re D’neth, a bard.”
“What’s your character?” I asked.
“RPG has a lot of leeway regarding the character you develop. I’m C’hola, a shapeshifter huntress charged with protecting the bard. Not that you can’t protect yourself. Bards are usually skilled with some weapons and you know all six sung spells. But you get preoccupied because you’re a musician first of all,” she laughed.
“Is this a real character? Or are you making this up about me?”
“Yes.”
We got everyone home and it hadn’t been a bad day. Whole pod babysitting. I was about to go practice my new lute guitar after dinner when Dad stopped me.
“Have you given any thought to what kind of car you want?” he said. That stopped me in my tracks.
“Um… Really? No.”
“You can’t just keep using your mother’s car. It makes our days longer for both of us when we use one vehicle to go two directions. She gets to work an hour early and I wait an hour after work for her to get off. You need to have a dependable vehicle that will get you and your little sister around. I think Emily made a good choice with her little Prius and she took good care of it so she is still driving it. Not a very manly car but it suits her.”
“I hadn’t given it much thought,” I said. “Do I have a budget?”
“We kept it under ten thousand for your sister. I think the same is reasonable for you.” Ten thousand? Wow! I had to wonder about how well off my parents were again. I hoped that didn’t mean they were making payments on our cars. I’d try to keep the cost down but what did I want?
“I’ll look online and see what’s available.”
“You might consider a truck.”
“Really?”
“Well, there are ten of you in your pod the last count I got. When they start getting back from service, there’s going to be things to move as you settle for college and a home. It would be difficult for me to empty all my tools out of the van so you can use it. Not the greatest gas mileage, but if you’re going on a road trip, you’d use your girlfriend’s car.”
“Right.” A truck. The idea had some appeal to it. I shuffled the idea of getting a classic Studebaker Hawk out of my brain. That was impractical. V1 had never managed one, either. I thought about the roomy back seat of Rachel’s Yaris or of Joan’s mother’s Audi. Even having three of us cuddled up to sleep in the back of Mom’s Impala hadn’t been all that bad. I’d definitely want a full crew cab. I wondered if I could get a camper cover on the back. It could be taken off if I needed to haul something large but having shelter for bad weather was a big plus.
I never got around to practicing the lute guitar that night. I was online browsing want ads as I talked to my girlfriends.
Wednesday was a repeat of Tuesday but after swimming and lunch with the kids, I found a spot in the park where we could just sit while I played the lute. I guess in a way, we were all still adjusting to summer and not having homework every day. We all knew we’d have to get some things accomplished this summer but we were still fighting our sadness over Joan’s abrupt departure and all felt a little clingy.
While I played and experimented with the instrument, we also talked and, inevitably, the subject came around to Donna Levy.
“Do you think she wants all of us to come to her house unannounced?” Rachel asked. “It sounds so bizarre. Like, not knowing if someone will show up or how many.”
“She’s showing her romantic side,” Desi asserted. She’d found a place where she could stretch out with her head on my lap and I could still play the lute. Every so often, I’d pause in playing and pet her boobs. She was wearing a button shirt that was just tied below her boobs and begged to have me reach inside. The other girls kept us well enough shielded that prying eyes would have a difficult time seeing what we were doing. And occasionally, one of our girlfriends would reach out a hand and join in. “I feel like the main dish on a buffet table,” she giggled as Beca petted her tummy. “Anyway, we know she’s a lover of literature. She’s read Jacob’s sexiest writings and she’s identified herself in them. She set up a puzzle for us to solve and she’s the prize. Now she sits by a window in her little farmhouse waiting to see if we’ll show up to claim the prize.”
“Masturbating,” Livy said. We all snorted. “Well, if I set that kind of scenario up, I’d be sitting by the window waiting with my fingers in my panties.”
“Why don’t we find out on Saturday,” I said. “We’ll go for our run early, shower, collect everyone, and go drop in. You know, the truth is that she’s left it open and is probably using it as a gauge to tell how interested we are. Will we follow through or are we a bunch of teenage flakes who aren’t really ready for what she has to offer?”
“Yes,” Beca said. “Let’s do it. If I don’t start doing something soon, I’ll go crazy.”
Thursday night, Dad brought up the idea of a car again. I guess Mom not having hers for three days in a row was more of a stress than I thought. It was true, though, that Mom worked downtown and Dad worked clear out in Roanoke.
“I like the idea of a truck, but I’m having difficulty finding one within budget,” I said. “I called on one that looked good but it had already been sold.”
“That’s a problem with good deals on the Internet. How would you like to go look at one I found? Crew cab. Good condition. In budget.”
“Sure. You know a lot more about vehicles than I do,” I said. He laughed. We went to his van and he headed out US 24 southwest. I think we were almost to Wabash when he pulled up to a farmhouse. I guess I should have been searching farther away from home and not thinking I’d have to stay within a few miles. A lanky guy a little older than my dad came out of the house and walked up to Dad as we got out of the truck.
“John. This the boy? Looks like a sturdy fella.”
“Potter, this is my son, Jacob. He’s in need of dependable transportation that’s appropriate for a high school man to help get his little sister to school and go out on dates Friday night.”
“Girlfriend?” he asked as he offered his hand to shake. “You’ll want a big back seat, then.” He started laughing at his own joke as Dad rolled his eyes. I should have stayed quiet but I couldn’t help myself.
“Yeah. Sometimes I need to get all eight of them someplace at the same time.” He choked on his laugh and I saw Dad smirk.
“Well. Don’t know that I’ve got anything that big unless you want a cattle trailer. Let me show you the truck I’m getting rid of.”
He opened a barn door and the first thing I saw was a huge red Silverado 2500HD. As soon as the evening sun hit it through the door, it just sparkled. No way could Dad have found something like this for me.
I was right. When the door was pushed all the way back, I could see a gray 1500 sitting next to the shiny truck.
“The new truck gets better mileage than my old one, despite the bigger engine. Like driving a Cadillac. Even Margaret likes to ride in it. I don’t think she’s had her Malibu out of the garage since I got this. Now, Jake, this truck is ten years old. Never been in a wreck and always kept inside so no rust. Driver’s seat is a bit worn, but a seat cover would take care of that. It’s got 120,000 on it and runs like a top.”
I wondered if this guy was a professional car salesman. He sure had his pitch down. It had a topper on the back that matched the paintjob on the truck perfectly. And when he dropped the tailgate, I saw a slide out tray in the bed.
“If one of your girlfriends is a big one, you can just give ’er a stool to climb up here and then slide it back in,” he laughed. “That’s why Margaret didn’t like riding in this truck.”
The interior of the truck was in pretty good condition aside from a small tear in the fabric on the driver’s side. He pointed at it and reminded me to always check my pockets to make sure I didn’t leave a screwdriver sticking out of one before I got in the truck.
I liked it but I couldn’t believe he was offering it at a price within our budget. Still, ten years old. 120,000 miles. Maybe.
“What do you think, son?” Dad whispered as we poked our heads in the back seat.
“It looks great. Think I should drive it first?” I asked.
“Why don’t you take it out for a couple of miles and make sure the gears don’t slip and the truck doesn’t stall on you. I’ll talk to Potter and see if I can get the price where we want it.” I let Dad do the talking. I was pretty sure that under normal circumstances, I could talk a deal for a car as well as anyone. But these weren’t normal circumstances. I was sixteen. Potter handed me the keys and I got in the truck, did all my safety checks, started up and pulled out of the barn. Dad sat down with Potter at a picnic table near the house and started ‘talking turkey.’
I drove my new truck home that evening.
Everyone wanted a ride on Friday and for the first time, I picked Rachel up for our date in my own truck. The back seat proved entirely big enough.
“So, are we just jumping in our cars and driving out there?” Livy asked. “Four cars? Or three cars and a truck?”
“There are only seven of us. Why don’t we split up between my truck and Rachel’s Yaris? Everyone should be comfortable that way,” I said.
“You just want to show off your manly truck,” Desi said.
“Shotgun!” Nanette surprised everyone by shouting. She tagged the front door of my truck.
“Aw, hey!” Desi complained. “Can I sit up front in the middle?”
“You and Beca get the back. Rache, Livy, and Brittany can follow us,” I said. “Let’s not try to see how many people we can fit in a telephone booth.”
“How do you fit people in a telephone booth?” Brittany asked. We got in the two vehicles and headed out into the country.
Nanette, Livy, and I had run these roads. It was a favorite route for Nan’s running club. We had to have passed her mailbox and never registered the name D. Levy in big letters on it.
“Geez! This driveway is a mile long!” I said. “I wonder how she gets out in the winter. She wasn’t late for class once last year.”
“Look at the house,” Beca said. “You can barely see it from the road and it’s huge!”
“It’s all perspective,” Nanette said. “The driveway is only about 150 yards. Jacob runs three times that on his leg of the relay. The house is big but having nothing around it makes it stand out. Remember, we’re here to talk to a prospective girlfriend, not to be awed by her house.”
“That’s succinct,” I said. “Still, you’re right. We don’t even know for sure she’s interested in getting that involved. She might be like Pod Cheer Up and just want pointers on how we’re making it work so she can create her own.”
“As if,” Desi muttered. There was a huge parking area between the house and equipment shed. We parked and all gathered together, sharing a hug, before we approached the house. It had a huge wrap-around porch with a swing near the front door. I could just imagine sitting out here with a mint julep in the hot evening talking about Hemingway or Shakespeare. And swatting mosquitoes. It’s Indiana.
I got shoved to the front and knocked on the door. Nothing. I checked for a buzzer and found it, castigating myself for being a bumpkin and knocking instead of ringing. Still nothing.
“Crap. She’s not home,” I sighed. “Well, we can’t expect her to just hang around 24/7 waiting for a bunch of kids to show up at her door.” Nanette poked me in the arm and I grinned at her. Then I kissed her. “Us kids gotta stick together,” I whispered. She put her arm around my waist as we stepped off the huge porch.
“What now?” Rachel asked. “Do we go or do we stay?”
“We wait,” Beca said firmly. She pointed out along the side of the house and up the fencerow. A white truck was raising dust as it came toward the house.
A few minutes later, the truck came to a stop at an angle facing us and the door popped open. And we saw Donna Levy like we’d never seen her before.
She wore jeans and work boots, a chambray shirt, and a scarf tied around her head. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail under the scarf. She clomped toward us in the boots and grinned. There wasn’t a sign of any makeup on her face.
“You came!” she shouted. She walked straight up to me and gave me a hug. Then she went right down the line hugging each of my girlfriends. “And you caught me looking like I really do instead of all professional. If you want to run away screaming, I won’t hold it against you.”
“We were afraid we missed you when no one came to the door,” I said. I was still feeling the soft squeeze of her breasts from when she hugged me. I had a feeling makeup wasn’t the only thing Donna left off on the weekend.
“Oh, the storm we had a couple of weeks ago knocked some branches off the trees near the back fence. Jonesy, across the way, has cattle and I didn’t want them straying over here. I was just doing some maintenance,” she said.
“How big a spread do you have, ma’am?” I drawled in my best western cowboy voice. She put her hands on her hips and looked at them.
“Not too big, I hope,” she laughed. I blushed. “The place isn’t as big as it looks when you drive in. I’ve got twenty acres out here but with no trees or near neighbors, it looks like my ‘spread’ goes from horizon to horizon.”
“It’s beautiful,” Nanette said. She made a point of looking at Donna’s hands, still on her hips.
“You must be Nanette! Come on around back so we can take our shoes off before we go in the house. Then I want to meet and get to know you all.”
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