Tainted: Listening to the Silence

TWO

Salvador

I was so into my music, playing the notes with my hand and hearing them in my head, that the sudden knock on my door scared the ever living out of me and I almost dropped my bass.

“Sal, you’re going to be late if you don’t leave soon!” My mother yelled coming into my room.

“Relax, it only takes me about half an hour to get to school.”

“Sal, do you even know what time it is? It’s 7:40!” Mina said, her tone of voice climbing per second as she picked my bag up off the floor.

“Really? Oh well, I’ll be late either way, so what’s the rush?”

“Just get going to school will you?” My mom begged, running out of steam and holding out my bag for me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get going.”

I grabbed my bag from her hands and slowly made my way to the front door. I put my headphones on and hit play, music accompanying me as I made my way to school. I didn’t know what the fuss was if I was going to be late either way. School wasn’t all that big a thing anyways, it would be just the same as it was the day before. And the one before that, and the one before and so on. Oh right, I remembered as I passed by the house of our neighbors the Andels that there was a new kid coming into the school today.

From the moment he moved in, yeah news traveled fast, he’d been everything the town could talk about for the last week. The rumor was that the Andels had finally decided to adopt, that new kid was their child, and that he came from the city. I thought about this boring town compared to the big, busy and bustling city, and decided that living in the suburbs must’ve been quite a change. The people of this town knew about the boy coming from the city even before he’d moved in, don’t ask me how, and they’d turned his arrival into such a controversy, but then again, these people were always making a commotion. I just didn’t understand the way they fussed about every little detail, instead of enjoying their lives they spent their whole time gossiping about other people’s lives. Maybe that was the way they enjoyed their lives, it was such a sad…

“You’re late again, Salvador?” The wrinkled old woman in the main office said when I walked in. She pulled me out of my mind and I felt like telling her interrupting thoughts was pretty rude, but I didn’t think she’d understand.

I just shrugged and she sighed. She didn’t wait for an answer, she just grabbed a pen and began writing on a piece of paper. While she was busy I thought it was pretty impressive that I’d gotten here while I was thinking about something else, it was like an autopilot or something. The woman put the tardy slip in the counter and glared at me, as if that might make me not be late tomorrow. I grabbed it and gave her one of my charming sarcastic smiles, trying to silently tell her not to get her hopes up, I would most probably need a tardy pass tomorrow too. I slowly made my way to class, nothing to hurry about there, still listening to music when I entered the classroom.

“You’re late again, Salvador?” The teacher asked.

No. I’m just pretending to be late because it’s such a fun thing to do... Of course I’m late again! God, adults could really be stupid sometimes. Did they not get tired of asking the same questions over and over again and never getting an answer from me? I just arched an eyebrow, hopping that conveyed everything I’d thought.

“Go sit, Salvador,” the teacher sighed, waving me away, probably angry that I didn’t answer.

Sir, yes, sir, thank you so much for giving me permission, sir… NOT. No need to tell me asshole. Or what you thought I was going to stand here in the middle of the classroom all day? I went to the only free seat beside a kid I had never seen before, and my mind decided to point out the obvious, he’s probably the new kid. He looked nice enough, with wavy brown hair, a pale skin complexion and hazel eyes, dressed in a simple dark blue shirt that must’ve looked like a million other shirts and light gray pair of jeans. Like I said, nice enough, or maybe I should say normal enough, average enough, compared to me and my snake bites.

I smirked as I remembered my latest additions, snakebites and tunnels, which had been a HUGE scandal around town. The school tried to forbid me from entering, but their case was weak and my mother was scary, so they lost that battle. The whole thing had given them plenty to gossip about, for a long, long time, until the new kid came that is.

The teacher talked on and on about this book we were reading that was literally about nothing. It was a two-act play that talked about nothing. It had been fun reading it and the interpretation was a very simple innocent one or a very dark one depending on how you saw it, which was how I saw it. Who would’ve thought humanity, the reason we exist and the meaning behind could be reduced to two acts? But I’d already read the book, done the internet and library research, and knew everything the teacher was saying, so I was bored to death. Finally, the class ended and I saw the new kid was looking at me, what was he looking at, had he never seen a punk kid before? I arched an eyebrow but he just kept on looking at me and it began to make me uncomfortable, so I decided to be more openly sarcastic: I got my writing pad and a pen and wrote, “Like what you see?”

He glared at me for a little while, and I thought he might say something, tease me or bully me, but he just went right past me. Guess not then, maybe he’d save it for later when there were less people around. But even as I thought that, my mind rejected it saying, no, he doesn’t look like a bully. I went on to my next class and the teacher glared at me too, for pure pleasure, I wasn’t even late this time. I arched my eyebrow again, which got me waved away with a frustrated sigh, and then I snorted, I think people are really starting to like me around here. I sat and really tried to listen, to pay attention as the teacher went on and on about the alleles, and how they could be dominant or recessive, blah, blah. Genetics were really great and interesting, but I’d already read about it and having someone explain something I already knew bored me.

“Salvador, can you explain to the class why two parents can be normal, but their child is color blind?” The teacher asked.

I sighed, not this again, didn’t they ever give up? The reason was the mother of the child probably has the recessive allele for color vision deficiency even though the condition doesn’t express itself in the phenotype, which means she’s a carrier. As I always did I thought about answering, but I didn’t think they’d understand and the pen and paper were a hassle I couldn’t be bothered with. So, I did what I always do, I arched my eyebrow, wanting to ask why they kept on asking me questions they knew I wouldn’t answer.

“So? Are going to answer Salvador?”

No, I never answer, you know I never answer, I’ve been going to this school all my life and still you continued to try making me talk. The teacher sighed and pursed his lips, and I thought, hey don’t blame me, you’re the one that doesn’t move on with his life. Right then the bell rang and we all got up to leave the class, I looked around and caught Em giving me a sympathetic smile. She always told me I should try to talk to people, but I never listened to her because the truth was I didn’t want the attention, plus I didn’t know what their reaction would be. She argued that maybe then I’d stop getting into so much trouble, but I argued that maybe then I’d get into even more trouble. I rolled my eyes at her, what was the use anyway? This town already had a thing against me because of my parents, they weren’t going to change even if I tried to explain things.

“Come here,” the teacher said when I passed by his desk on my way out, making me falter a little bit, and I rolled my eyes again.

He handed me a detention slip and I just took it and went on to my next class. It was always the same thing with teachers, sometimes I imagined that every morning teachers had a sort of meeting in which they decided who would get the privilege of sending me to detention that day. It had been a long while since I last cared about my academical record and, either way, I’d actually come enjoy detention. Usually either Em or Dust were there and I’d spend my time talking, and even if they weren’t, I had my phone, my headphones, and music. The next class was the same as the ones before, listening to the teacher explain something I had already read about. Finally the recess came and I went to the music room where Em, Dust, and I liked to spend our free time in school. Em and Dust, as always, were already there waiting for me.

“Do you have to stay for detention?” Em asked as soon as I came in.

Her real name was Emerald but everyone called her Em because her name was really f*****g long, and when we were kids it was near impossible to pronounce. She had natural red hair and bright green eyes. She was a little on the pale side, but she blamed that on her DNA that made it impossible for her to tan. She was gifted with the biggest meanest fighting spirit I’d ever seen, which meant that Em liked to defend what she believed was right with tooth and nail.

“What do you think?”

“Dammit Sal! I told you practice starts earlier on Mondays and you’re always late because you’re always in detention! You know we really can’t practice without you!” Em said getting really angry.

Did I mention she was also bitchy, a tiny bit neurotic and maybe, just maybe a tad obsessive compulsive?

“Why are you blaming him? In fact, why do you always blame him? It’s not like he personally asked the teachers to pick on him every damn day so he could skip a few hours of band practice. Jesus, do you think he does it on purpose or something?” Dust asked not sounding angry but not really sounding happy either.

His real name was Dustin, but we all called him Dust or Dusty, because we’re lazy like that and it was sort of funny. He had that dirty blonde type of hair that almost looked like clear brown and hazel eyes. He was slightly darker skinned than Em, who was just about see-through, but if you wanted my opinion they were both white as a nun’s tit. He was also gifted with a fighting spirit but not as fiery as Em’s, which made me the calm and reasonable one that constantly broke up their fights. Not that Dustin ever got into a serious argument with Em, he liked her too much, had done so since I can remember. But Em’s desnser than lead, denser than osmium, and never seemed to notice even though Dustwas really obvious about it sometimes.

Em sighed, clearly not wanting to get into a fight, and I thought maybe the world was coming to an end. I push the sarcasm away, focus Sal, you know she wasn’t really mad at you, she was just frustrated about the situation.

“No. You know that’s not it Dustpan. I’m sorry Sal it’s just that… I wish you could do something, you know? Why don’t you try? When they ask you something or talk to you, why don’t you try to make them understand? Maybe then something would change,” Em asked looking hopeful.

“Nothing would change Em, I’d just be town’s new gossip material, and you know I hate attention.” Even my snakebites, the tunnels in my ears, the way I dressed, none of it was done to make them look at me. It was amusing to watch them kick up a fuss, but to be honest, their attention made me uneasy.

“But still… try. Please. For us. Just once, try it out with someone, just one person if you want. And it doesn’t even have to be in public, it could be in private when you’re alone with someone. But just try, it’s all I ask,” Em begged.

“Fine. I’ll try, but I don’t promise anything!”

“Yes! Thank you Sal, I know it must be hard for you,” Em said, giving me a sympathetic smile as she looked at me like I’d say I would bring the mood down for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have someone else to nag?”

Em and Dust chuckled. The tension in the room released after that and we got absorbed into our music. You see we were one of the bands in town, but we weren’t…. how to say it… well-liked. Most of the bands in town played within the genre of pop or Christian music. We on the other hand liked alternative rock, rock and roll, and punk rock better. And because of that most people didn’t like us. Not that I really cared about what these imbeciles thought of me or my band. Anyways, their dislike made of pretty famous around town.

The bell rang and we all said our goodbyes and went back to class. The day went on just like it had so far, boring, with teachers glaring at me and telling me about something I had already read. The final bell rang and we were free, well most of us were, I wasn’t yet, not for another hour and a half. I gathered my stuff and like usual went up to the detention classroom, which was actually the music classroom. I stopped by my locker and lingered there for a little while, taking my sweet time to leave some books and take the others. When I got on my way, I noticed the school was desserted already. Well, it seems it’d be just me and my music to keep me company in detention today. As I neared the music classroom, I heard music coming out of it, which shouldn’t have been unusual but, who would play at this time? It sounded like a piano, and I went through a mental list of all the students I knew who played the piano, but none of them would stay after school to play the piano. Curiosity got the best of me and I slowly opened the door to see who it was.

It was the new kid, who would’ve guessed. Certainly not me, I never thought he’d be one to play any type of instrument. He looked like the perfect type that didn’t really need to do anything else to be adored, and my assessment wasn’t all that mistaken because he played the piano perfectly. He was playing the Moonlight Sonata, and as I stood there I felt tears running down my cheeks, the sad feeling in the room as thick as pitch. He seemed to be absorbed by the music, his eyes closed, and this little frown on his forehead. He was playing that song with real feeling, I thought, and then I wondered, what could make him so sad? The end of the first movement came and instead of ending the song he continued it, with something I’d never heard before, it sounded almost like an extension. How was he doing this? How could he just make up notes as he goes along? It sounded even more beautiful than anything Beethoven could imagine.

I wanted to interrupt, to ask, to do something, but I knew better than to do that. Music muses weren’t easy, not at all, in fact you’d be better off calling them honest to God bitches. Once you got absorbed, once you were lost in their spell, losing focus could ruin everything. As the song went on the frown in his forehead seemed to deepen and deepen, making it look like he was literally suffering. Harmony slowly because chaos, cacophonous, jarring, notes and chords that were almost painful to hear. Finally he let out a really loud heart-tearing scream and the music stopped. What was it? What was wrong with him?

He kept his eyes closed, the frown in his forehead so deep, his breathing coming out in pants. Now that the muses had left the building, I no longer feared getting closer, so I walked to him and slowly put my hand on his shoulder. He jumped about three feet into the air, turning around so fast I heard the crack in his neck. He looked at me with wild eyes, almost scared of me, which scared me in turn because I thought he’d attack me. I raised my hands in the air, trying to tell him I was harmless and to calm the f**k down. Finally, he seemed to calm down and proceeded to frown at me, I could almost hear him asking why I was there.

I got my detention slip for my pocket slowly, so I didn’t startle him, and then held it out. He grabbed it and looked at it for a while, then he took a little paper out of his pocket and showed it to me. It was a detention slip, too, which said Oliver Andel should attend detention today for disrespecting the teacher. Oh, so he really truly was the Andels’ new son? Guess that rumor was true then, I mean, his house was right beside mine and I’d heard the raucous of moving trucks and all. But he could’ve been a cousin, or something else, not necessarily their new adopted son, you know? I handed him his detention slip back and he gave me mine. He just looked at me, as if waiting for me to do something, but I couldn’t really guess what he wanted me to do. I felt like he was waiting for me to do a trick, so I couldn’t help taking out my notepad and opening right on the page where I had written, “Like what you see?”

Oliver glared at me and turned around to the piano again, trying a few notes before starting to play again. Guess not then, but still, why did he keep on staring at me? I went to sit in one of the desks and put my headphones on, but I didn’t have the strength to press the play button. It was just something about his music that dragged you in, that made you listen to it. Suddenly he pressed a wrong key, and the harmony of the song was lost. He tried again but the last note continued to sound wrong. I thought of the natural progression of the song and came to the answer, he should try eff-sharp. He continued to try that last piece and every time the last note sounded wrong.

Finally, he hit the keys all at once several times, making a horrible noise that rang through the room. Before he got even more frustrated, I decided to help him out. So I wrote, “Try eff-sharp,” in a page of my notepad before crumpling it and throwing it at him. It landed right on the keys and he looked at it, then turned to glare at me. I looked pointedly at the paper, and I think he got the hint that he had to open it. I turned around again, draped my arms on the desk and laid my head on them. I didn’t hear anything for the longest time and then I heard the song playing again. He went right through the part where he stopped before, the eff-sharp making the song sound correct again. I smiled and continued to listen to him, contentedly.

Everything seemed to be going alright, and I sensed the song was perfectly drawing to an end, like the guy who played it. He really was the poster child for perfection, wasn’t he? He had the body of someone that sometimes worked out, in other words, a nice body. He had that wavy brown hair and those serious dark green eyes. His skin was nice as well, not many pimples marred his face and if he spent some time under the sun, he’d probably get a tan.

Ugh, stupid kid, he was probably an asshole and I’d confirm it when I found him wearing one of those stupid letterman jackets. It would just be the cherry on top of his perfect little cupcake. Not that I envied him or anything, never in a million years, just like I absolutely didn’t think he was hot. Well… maybe a little? But anyways, he was an asshole and that was s deal breaker for me, plus he was probably straight as an arrow. Then, suddenly, the bell that signaled the end of detention rang and the peace crumbled to pieces.

He tried it again, but it was gone, he had lost his focus, he’d stopped paying attention to the muses and they’d fled while he wasn’t looking. There was nothing he could do about it. No matter, he tried and tried again and again the notes sounding worse and worse per minute, until finally he let out another one of his screams that tore your heart. I wondered again, what could be the matter with him? Everything went silent and I swear I could hear his suffering in the silence of the room. I wanted to do something, I wanted to tell him something, but I knew I couldn’t. He jerked suddenly turning around to see me there in the same desk as before. Did I make a sound? He looked at me for the longest time and then glared, getting up and gathering his stuff before leaving the room. I don’t know about you, but I think he doesn’t like you, a sarcastic mental voice told me.

I got up slowly, gathering my stuff and leaving the room at my usual slow pace. I finally pressed the play button and music blasted through my headphones. I made my way over to Em’s, where we normally practiced, thinking that Em would chew me out as soon as I walked in. Her parents had a garage they never used because they had no cars. They, like Em, fought fiercely for what they believed, which was that cars polluted the earth, that we shouldn’t eat meat, etc. Anyways, they didn’t need the garage and well, we took advantage of that. The garage was covered with egg cartons because there was no way in hell a bunch of teenagers could afford soundproofing the room, so it wasn’t pretty. But with time we added a couch, some coffee tables and other things until finally it turned into our little den.

“Finally, you’re here! Jesus you took for f*****g ever! You could’ve been here like ten minutes ago if you didn’t walk so slowly all the damn time. Do you think it’s fun sitting here doing nothing as we wait for you to show up?” Em yelled frustrated.

I so totally called it. I felt like smirking but knew Em would misinterpret and I’d regret it, so I resisted the urge. Plus, it looked like the song wasn’t really going well, nothing surprising considering they’d only had the guitar, the drums, and the vocals to work with.

“We’ve been going in useless circles this whole time. We didn’t really progress much. You know we can’t really rehearse without you,” Dust said with a sigh, sounding tired.

I smiled, trying to relieve the tension in the room.

“So you finally admit you’re nothing without me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Em growled.

“Oh, so you don’t need me then? I guess I’ll just go then.”

“NO!” Both Em and Dust yelled at the same time.

“Ha! So you do need me!”

“Yes, yes, we need you, we’re worms, worthless worms when you’re not around and all that. Now would you grab the damn bass and play?” Em muttered.

Dusty and I chuckled because Disney quotes were the best, they always made you laugh. I left my bag in a corner and went over to my beloved bass. Dusty marked the tempo and Everybody’s Fool started. I listened for a little while, thinking about what the song needed, the chords I should play to compliment Em’s guitar. Em was glaring at me and looking pointedly at my bass. I already knew what to do but made a show of taking my time only to piss Em off a little more. Finally, Em, who had very little patience, snapped and started yelling at me asking me if I was going to play or not.

I laughed and told them to start the song from the start again, and this time when they started playing, so did I. The song that had sounded horrible before, now sounded great. The only thing left now was finding a voice that could go with the song, maybe a second guitarist too. Don’t get me wrong, Em’s voice was great, but we kind of needed another voice if we were going to make songs like these. A low, grave tone, or something like that would do the song better justice. The only problem with my plan was, firstly, that every musical person in this town was either already taken or were assholes. The song ended and Em threw herself into my arms and I had no choice but to catch her.

“That was great Sal! We’ve got it! We’ve got it!” Em yelled into my ear.

I looked at Dusty for help, but he just shrugged, telling me I was on my own. We both knew Em had a crush on me, I didn’t even remember when it begun. Call me stupid but I hadn’t really been able to tell her that I pitched for the other team. Not that I was in the closet or anything like that, which made me wonder how she hadn’t figured it out already. Finally, she let me go and I drew a little relieved sigh.

“Yeah that was great.”

“Well, don’t sound that excited or you’ll overwhelm me,” Em said sounding a little hurt. And here was the second problem with my plans for the band, Em would never accept it, not without a fight.

“Em it’s just that… I think maybe another voice would be better. But don’t get me wrong your voice is great! We just need, another tone, a second vocalist maybe? And we definitely need a second guitar before we can talk about getting serious.”

“What are you even talking about? Dustpan is the second voice! A-and I’m the guitarist. Why would we need another one?” Em said, her rage barely controlled.

“No, Em you know that both him and you have kind of the same tone, we need a lower tone to counter your voice or something. And I’m not asking to replace you Em, I’m talking about a rhythmic guitar.”

“But… But… But I’m the singer! Why would we need another voice?! A-and I’m the f*****g guitarist, why would we need a second guitar?!” Em yelled, losing control of her temper.

“Em. Listen to me okay, listen carefully, I’m not saying we should replace you. I’m just saying the songs would sound better if we had a second voice and a second guitar.”

“But I don’t want a f*****g second voice and I don’t want a f*****g second guitar!” Em yelled sounding even angrier.

“Look Em. It was just a suggestion.” I was trying to calm her down, but this was useless, she’d gotten too wound up. Something told me this was going to end badly.

“Well, nobody cares about your f*****g suggestions around here. Maybe you should just leave if you don’t f*****g like this band the way it is!” Em yelled throwing her guitar to the floor. It made a horrible sound and I could almost feel it pain as a physical thing.

Em left the garage slamming the door after her. Dusty sighed and looked at me in disapproval before going after Em. I just shrugged and grabbed my stuff, leaving the garage too, guessing practice was over for today. I sighed as I made my way home, I didn’t think Em meant what she’d said, not at all, it’s just that she kind of liked being the top one, the leader. Not that she was bad at what she did or anything but the band would sound better with a second voice and a rhythmic guitar. Dusty knew that, but he was too occupied drooling all over Em to confront her about it, so I decided to sacrifice myself. I sighed again and thought I’d just explain it all to Em tomorrow at school. I got my headphones on again and pressed play again, burrowing into my sweater to fight off the cold night air. If there was something I hated the most in this world, it was fighting with Em and Dust.

“Sal? Are you home?” My mom asked as soon as I stepped into the house closing the door after me.

No. I’m here to tell you I have six blocks left to get home. I rolled my eyes quickly before my mom came into the room and could see me.

“Hey, son,” she said, smiling at me as she poked her head around the kitchen’s door way.

I waved at her, smiling without feeling it, and made my way to my room.

“Hey? Sal? Did something happen? You seem a little odd,” my mom said, coming after me.

Ugh, nosy moms and their mind-reading powers. No mom, nothing happened, haven’t you noticed I’m always depressed and angry? It’s my normal state, it’s called being a teenager I’m told. I didn’t stop to answer though; my room was my goal.

“Mina? What’s going on?” My other mom asked, poking her head out of their room.

Yup, that’s one of the big mistakes I’d made in life that made this town hate me so much. I had two moms and this town being the narrow minded, uptight, and square town it was, thought it was blasphemous and whatnot. Of course, they didn’t take it out on my family. Ash was about as big as any man and a thousand times scarier. She owned the only auto body and repair shop in town. Mina was petite and cute, with a natural bubbly nature that no hard time had ever been able to take from her. She was a preschool teacher, and try as they may to deny it all the kids around here loved her. Ashlyn on the other hand, was tall and lean, and had a bad attitude. You didn’t like her? You could pay a fortune for a tow to take your car to the city and go to a mechanic there. Guess who they took their anger off on? Me.

“I think something’s wrong with Sal, Ash. He looks a little down,” Mina said.

I reached the top of the stairs and rolled my eyes, I hated it when they ganged up on me.

“Did something happen in school again?” Ash asked in a menacing tone. She was standing right in front of me blocking my way and must’ve looked deadly to anyone who saw her, but I knew she wasn’t, she was just a big cuddly bear with a mean front.

“No mom, nothing happened in school, this has nothing to do with it, but I did get sent to detention again today by the way. You might get a call from the principal or something soon.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s just band stuff.”

“Oh. So you finally told Emerald, huh? I take it she didn’t take it too well?” Mina asked.

I just shrugged again and looked somewhere else. I really didn’t feel like talking about it.

“I’m sorry Sal. But don’t worry, ok? I’m sure it’ll all work out,” Mina said, coming over and hugging me tightly.

“Yeah, it’ll be alright son. You know she’ll get over it, she does this every time you fight,” Ash said, patting my shoulder and adding herself to the group hug.

I stopped fighting the sadness hanging over me and just let them comfort me. They were right, of course, Em was always getting angry at me for one reason or the other and we always made up in the end. I just needed to wait her out.