Double Tears
Chapter 129
“Now I close my eyes and the notes are black ribbons spooling from my fingertips, reminding me of Wildgirl’s hair.”
—Leanne Hall, Queen of the Night
29 NOVEMBER 2020
Em was home for a total of seven days and I had to spend three of them in school. And the equivalent of another rehearsing. It makes me mad that all of a sudden, our lives can be ripped up again and we ‘children’ have no choice but blind obedience to the ones with authority. When I was an old man, I’d have told them all to fuck off and leave me alone. But as a teen, that would be considered rebellious and disobedient. Two of the things the old man despised about ‘kids these days.’
I looked up the section of the National Services Act (Title 53) the president referred to. It’s almost impossible for a normal human being to find any given law in the US Code. And finding the law is no guarantee you’ll be able to read or understand it. And 30,000 sections? It took a while to figure out how they numbered them by subtitle 3, chapter 01, and section 07. I have no idea how articles, paragraphs, lines, and other subdivisions are determined.
Anyway, the law says, under the authority of the president to declare a state of national emergency, all persons serving in the National Service may be recalled from any break in service due to leave, holiday, vacation, temporary assignment, yada yada yada… to their permanent duty stations to await deployment. All forms of public transportation, including air, rail, and bus, shall give priority seating to National Service personnel thus recalled and shall charge transportation of said individuals to the National Service according to section…
It all sounds good and Em was put on a flight out of Fort Wayne first thing Friday morning back to Kansas City where she left her car for the three hour drive back to Salina. But I kept reading and found the real kicker. Under a national emergency, all termination dates are suspended. In other words, if the national emergency lasts past Em’s termination date of July 9, 2021, she still doesn’t get out until the emergency is lifted. What a bunch of bull!
I’m thinking of all those who started their National Service about this time of year, believing they’d have a real holiday celebration back home when their service ended in two years. If the state of emergency isn’t lifted before Christmas, they won’t get home for the holiday.
I really wish Gieseke hadn’t been such a prick about not letting me into the Constitutional Government class this year. This is the kind of stuff we should be taught and be aware of in school before we have to go register and take the NSAT. Despite the bulk of the law they finally passed, I kept finding footnote references to “Rules and Regulations” that aren’t even a part of the legislation. Everything about how the service actually functions is contained in volumes of R&R publications that have the same power as law but never saw a vote in congress. I wonder how much of it was just lifted from the UCMJ. The National Service wasn’t supposed to be an extension of the Armed Forces.
Fuck these fuckers!
“How’s Emily doing?” Rachel asked at lunch Monday.
“Bored,” I said. “I talked to her last night and once she reported for duty, they sent her to her quarters and said they’d call as soon as they had orders and until then all normal routes and deliveries were suspended. So, she had to fly back two days before her leave was over and has nothing to do but sit and wait. It so sucks.”
“Just the opposite of Joan,” Beca said. “She got to her office just before midnight Thursday night and hasn’t left yet. She says she’s been getting hourly updates on deployments and issues to animate and send up the chain. She has no idea where they go from there.”
“I don’t get it,” Desi said. “First off, why does Mexico closing its border create a national emergency? Nobody needs to go there. And they can’t just send people they don’t want into the US. Border Patrol won’t let anyone out of Mexico without prior approval. Unless they scale the wall and make a run for it.”
“And what’s going to happen to the Mexican economy? The Sunday report on TV—which had all the fancy graphics Joan told us would come out—cited Mexico’s dependence on trade with the US. Where are they going to sell their asparagus?” Brittany asked.
“Like usual, we’re only getting half the story from the news and it’s the half the government wants us to hear,” I groused.
“We have a free press!” Livy said.
“That freely reports whatever they’re told to,” I responded hotly. “How can we know the truth about anything we read or hear? Did Walter Cronkite go to Mexico and interview the president there about why he was closing the borders?”
“Who’s Walter Cronkite?” Desi asked.
“Never mind. News reporters report what they know. They only have access to the information the government provides. They have no way of knowing if the government is giving them all the facts or is condensing a thousand-page report to three acceptable bullet points.”
“That’s why we have social media. The people report.”
“No, they don’t. The people copy and paste what they think other people have reported. It’s a popularity contest to see whose lie gets the most likes. You could start posting my science fiction on Twitter and before long someone would be arguing online about whether the colonization spaceship that’s being built by NASA is really a death star being prepared for battle with aliens. And people would believe it!”
“You’re really on a tear today, Jacob,” Beca said soothingly as she rubbed my shoulders. “I understand. I’m upset by it all, too. Joan and I had something really special planned for you and Emily Saturday. So much for that. But what can we do? We’re fifteen to eighteen years old, sitting in a high school cafeteria, upset because our lovers have been called away. Should we hold a protest? Against what? Write to our congressmen? Why would they care about people who can’t vote? Launch a campaign to use cloth shopping bags and get rid of plastic? Really, Jacob. What can we do?”
We decided. I had to laugh at our utter impotence. Maybe that was the best we could do. When the Nazis rose to power in Germany, teens protested by going to banned jazz clubs. Taking one little thing they could control and using it to thumb their noses at the Hitler Youth. Until they were arrested and put in the army. ‘It don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.’
We decided to all attend the Winter Dance on Saturday, wearing black. Yeah. Is that stupid or what? Turns out, it started a trend. I don’t know how these things get started and take on a life of their own. I guess they call it ‘going viral’ these days. But black clothes became more common in school as the week progressed. There was even talk among the orchestra members that we would forgo the traditional white shirts for our Christmas Concert in favor of black ones. I wondered how LeBlanc would take that.
We had three after-school rehearsals for the orchestra which meant Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, Cindy and I rehearsed double. The good part was LeBlanc consented to help us Tuesday and Thursday and really made a difference in the sound of ‘Cantos Desiertos.’ When we prepared it for Cindy’s recital, all our instruction had been with Vinnie and Jannie. Getting input from LeBlanc helped clean up a section we’d been having trouble recapturing. And he wasn’t negative about the way we were connecting on the ‘Histoire du Tango’ by Piazzolla. He was actually sitting back tapping his foot at one point. Next week, we’d work more on our staging as John’s class rehearsed with us.
It took a little persuading to get Betty to agree to let Cindy go to the Winter Dance with us. In fact, Rachel, Livy, Beca, Desi, and Brittany all went with me to ask. Betty was usually pretty good about letting Cindy participate in things when Donna, Nanette, or Sophie was involved. Agreeing to letting her go out with six teens was a harder sell. As usual, it came down to Beca.
“Mrs. Marvel, I’d like to ask your permission to take my girlfriend Cindy to the Winter Dance.” Betty looked at Beca and then to me and back to Beca. “Cindy is my girlfriend and a member of my pod. I’ll take full responsibility for seeing that she is safe within our group all evening.”
“Your girlfriend? I thought Jacob…” Betty started.
“Mom, the pod is the pod. We use the term boyfriend and girlfriend with each other because there isn’t a better word,” Cindy said.
“I just wanted you to be a little older before you started dating.” Cindy put her arm around her mother and laid her head on her mother’s shoulder.
“I turned fifteen in Jacob’s arms. You were there. So were Brittany and Sophie and Desi. Just because we’re going to a dance, it doesn’t mean we’re sleeping together.”
“Cindy!”
“Mrs. Marvel, we plan to take two vehicles. Whichever one Cindy is in, I’ll be in. Would you prefer if we ride with Jacob in his truck or with Rachel in her Yaris?” Beca said. Hmm. Presumptive close. Betty, you’ve already consented to let her go, so which of us should she ride with? Nice job, Beca.
“Uh, I suppose with… Oh, it doesn’t make a difference. Have fun and be home by midnight. Do you all understand?”
“Yes, Mom!” we chorused.
And so, it came about that on Saturday at seven, we all showed up at Cindy’s house, dressed in solid black, to pick up our date. Black was something Cindy had plenty of since she often wore a black dress to play in the community orchestra. Betty and Mark were both puzzled that we were all in black and then saw Keith head out to pick up his date, also dressed completely in black.
Not everyone at the dance was dressed in black but it was a solid majority. The decorating committee had even changed the theme and instead of the traditional red and green crepe paper garlands, the room was hung in black. Instead of holiday greetings, prominent banners called out, ‘Repeal 28!’
The rest of the dance went like any other celebration at school. There was music. We danced. I danced with all seven of my partners and then Adrienne and Celia showed up and I danced with them.
“It’s so unfair,” Celia complained. “We did all this research regarding timing so they’d finish NSO training Christmas week and then be home for their week off the week between Christmas and New Year. And here they get locked down and will move directly to their permanent base on Christmas Day. It’s so fucked up!”
“We agree,” I said. Celia’s black silk sheath dress clung to her curves and moved like skin on her body. I was having a difficult time thinking of anything else. “Em and Joan were both home for Thanksgiving and had to leave.”
“Your pod is lucky you have so many. I mean… I love Adrienne, but I really miss Bernie’s dick.” She giggled a little and pressed her face against my chest. There was a little hip thrust against my growing interest tossed in there. “And all three of them have confessed to having lovers. It’s just a comfort thing, you know. I could use some comfort.” I could feel her face heating up against my chest as her pelvis continued to grind against me. In rhythm with the music, of course. “Jacob? Would you consider comforting Adrienne and me? Please? Like over Christmas? Please?”
I laughed again and as we turned toward our table after the dance, I let my hand run down her back to squeeze her ass once. Nothing but girl under that silk. Beca was holding Adrienne’s hand when we approached and our other girlfriends were sitting at the table giggling.
“The answer’s yes,” Beca started. “As soon as we’ve finished finals and get out of this place. I just hope you two don’t mind having an extra tongue in your pussies as well as Jacob’s dick.” Well, I guess that was settled. I gave Celia’s ass another gentle squeeze and she slid it in front of me to press back against my hardness. Mmm. Just two weeks until winter break.
“We’re still celebrating the holiday,” the senior class president said in an interview with WFW news. “But the National Service and this national emergency have torn our loved ones away from us. Even those scheduled to be discharged are being held for an unexplained national emergency. Don’t believe reports that they have volunteered to extend their service. The law was written that enslaves them for as long as the emergency is maintained. Those who enter the service now have no guarantee they will ever be released. We say end the emergency and send our loved ones home. And repeal 28!”
I hadn’t paid much attention to the news truck parked outside the dance when we arrived. I figured it was a slow news day and they needed a little color for the late news. But when they came in and the dance stopped for the interview, I realized we’d started something. Thankfully, they didn’t point us out and the senior class president had taken control. When asked who came up with this idea she said, “We have several pods that have formed within the student body to support and provide a stable home for our members in the service to come home to. This is our sign to those corps members that their pods are faithfully waiting for them at home and we will continue to fight for their rights.”
I wondered, kind of absently, how many pods had been formed in the school now. Maybe we should all get together. My fingers twitched remembering the feel of Celia’s ass.
The news people left and it didn’t take long for us all to get back on the dance floor. I was discovering something else about our pod. Cindy was a wild thing when she danced. She bounced, threw her head around, waved her arms, and screamed with the loudest of them. That wasn’t my style but I had it admit it was fun to watch her. And the rest of the girls were being influenced as well. I couldn’t help but bounce around a bit myself.
“You’re crazy!” I shouted at Cindy.
“I want to learn to dance like you and Brittany do, too!” she shouted back. “But I don’t know how to do that and I can do this.”
“Then celebrate. We’ll teach you when you’re ready.”
Seven very sweaty sticky teens arrived at Cindy’s house just before midnight. We all escorted her to the door and politely kissed her on the cheek as we said ‘goodnight’ in front of her mother. I took Brittany and Desi home, getting significantly more intense kisses from each of them. Then I ended up at Rachel’s house where she and Livy were waiting in her basement bedroom. Naked.
‘Black until they’re back,’ became an overarching theme at school. When we played our holiday concert on Tuesday, every person was dressed in solid black… including Mr. LeBlanc.
Cindy and I had three more days of rehearsals after school before our performance Saturday night. We worked in the auditorium on the school stage so the six students who would be recording and managing the live stream could practice with us. And Cindy got her first tango lessons as we played and paced each other back and forth across the stage. She even managed a move where she leaned way back as she played and I leaned over her with my guitar.
“We have fifty new subscriptions this week,” Joan said when she called Friday night. “I think you should prepare to release the soundtrack as your first CD. I’m putting a ‘Reserve Your Copy’ button on the order page.”
“I can’t believe you’ve had time to track all this,” I said. “How are you holding together, Love?”
“It’s getting better. I got a couple of days off this week. It looks like a stalemate at the border. The first week we had soldiers moving in from all over the country. The second week, it looked like they couldn’t find their positions and units were moving up and down the whole 2,500 miles they were supposed to defend. Finally, the past few days everyone looks like they’re just sitting on their thumbs waiting.”
“Thank you for taking the time to manage our website,” I said. “It’s way more than we should ask you to do.”
“It keeps me connected. Are you sure you can bring Beca for Christmas?”
“Not to worry. We’ll drive up on Wednesday. I’ll spend the night and drive home on Christmas Eve. Rachel and Livy will drive up to pick her up the next week.”
“What about Emily? Is anyone going out to visit her?”
“That was a big surprise to everyone,” I said. “The family was trying to decide what the best way would be to get there and back when Nanette announced she had no plans for the holiday and was taking Christmas week off to go visit Emily. I wanted to go along, but she said her car was full with Brittany. How does that grab you? It wasn’t that long ago that Nanette was avoiding Brittany at all costs and now the two of them are spending the whole Christmas week with Emily. I can’t believe Brittany’s parents even let her out of the house over the holiday.”
“It’s because we’re a pod, Jacob. Rule number one is to take care of each other. Our families have figured that out.”
Dudley’s stage is set up like a Vegas showroom. When they have regular performances, the high-priced tickets are for tables that butt right up against the stage and include dinner. A second tier of tables and booths arcs around the high-priced area and people there can order off a menu of appetizers and desserts. And booze, of course. Then there’s the mezzanine level that includes just a bar and lots of chairs adjacent to just a few tables where people can set their drinks. The corporate party only occupied the main two areas, seating about 250 and dinner and drinks were served to all tables.
Mr. Vongole and some of the other corporate bigwigs had introductions and prize giveaways from the very beginning of the event at six-thirty until it was almost time for us to perform at eight o’clock. Then he kindly turned over the stage to Donna and we went live.
“We are very happy to bring you a live performance of Marvel and Hopkins tonight,” she said. “In addition to the audience here at Dudley’s Dinner Theater in Fort Wayne, Indiana, we are being joined across the country and in five other countries by live streaming. We will be live for approximate one hour and twenty minutes, including this brief introduction. Our performers will take a fifteen-minute breather between sets and when you see the show they have for you tonight, you’ll appreciate that they need the time to catch their breath. Now we are happy to bring you Miss Cynthia Marvel on flute and Mr. Jacob Hopkins on guitar. Ladies and gentlemen, Marvel and Hopkins.”
It was a great idea to have Donna give the introduction. First off, she’s gorgeous. Her golden blonde hair absolutely sparkled against her black dress. Secondly, she’s used to dealing with rowdy crowds of teenagers every day in her class so settling a couple hundred happy employees wasn’t difficult. And finally, she was our producer and it was her job.
Cindy and I took the stage to a round of applause and bowed before settling into our positions. After LeBlanc checked us out on the music, we agreed to do the show from memory and enjoy ourselves. I held Cindy’s eye, winked once and she was off.
We never lost touch with each other through the entire first half-hour of our performance. We didn’t even notice the cameras and had no time to worry about them. I started on my stool as Cindy played standing up through the first flirtatious movement, ‘Bordello,’ often approaching me with a toss of her head and even moving behind me to play as she leaned over my shoulder. The second movement, ‘Café,’ is a much quieter movement and we moved together to a pair of seats at one of the small tables arranged for us on stage. We spent a lot of this movement leaning toward each other as if in intimate chat. It was really sweet. I ended the movement by rising from my seat as I played and slipped behind her, kneeling down on one knee as I took my farewell.
The third movement, ‘Night Club,’ is lively with a huge variety of beats, including some bossa nova. It gave us the opportunity to sometimes play facing each other and sometimes I put a foot up on a chair to play while standing with Cindy back-to-back with me.
Finally, we took the fourth movement, ‘Modern Day Concert,’ directly to the audience. We moved to the front of the stage as we played, making a lot of eye contact with the people at the front tables and sometimes splitting apart to walk to opposite sides.
Since ‘Histoire’ is only about twenty minutes long, we finished out the program with three more Piazzolla pieces, ‘Oblivion,’ ‘D’Aujord’hui,’ and we really got into dancing together as we played ‘Libertango.’ We were both sweating like crazy as we took the break and the audience really applauded the first set.
Our moms met us backstage and mopped our sweaty brows. All the rest of our pod was willing to take on that responsibility, but there are some things you can’t take away from a stage mom. Fretting over her kid backstage is one of them. It was nice, though that all our pod and our families had been invited to sit on the mezzanine and Mr. Vongole even sent a couple bottles of champagne up to them. We both thirstily drank down a bottle of water before we headed back out for the second set.
Everyone applauded again as the house lights came down and we bowed. There isn’t much I can say about the five movements of ‘Cantos Desiertos’ that I haven’t already talked about. Suffice it to say that when Cindy and I reached the fifth movement, the ‘Tango ladeado,’ we were dancing on stage as we played our instruments. I could only hope the cameras were keeping up. We bowed to the audience at the end and then turned to each other again. Like the ‘Histoire,’ ‘Cantos’ isn’t a full half-hour and we promised a full show. We launched our own version of ‘Mozart in Hell,’ the ‘Alla Turka’ dance movement of ‘Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 11.’ This is more like dueling banjos than a symphony or tango. Cindy and I connected in a cathartic explosion that swept the audience along with us.
The applause was really deafening and people stood up to give us an ovation. We bowed and I put an arm around Cindy, pulling her into a hug. We were both panting as we finally made our way off stage. The stream was cut and our performance was over.
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