Sweet His

chapter seven

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DAVID

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August, Summer of 2017

I'm finally back.

I stood beside the car, looking at our old house, and took my time to appreciate the view of it. 

It somehow felt a bit nostalgic. The white-colored wooden fences of our front yard, which is now a bit run-down with its paint almost washed out from years of not being repainted, still reminded me of the days I used to run around the area with a kite chasing me behind. Cliche. The old maple tree that seems to withstand the five years we’ve been gone, with its leaves now flooding the half of the driveway, still held its own beside the house and made me recall a particular day of my childhood when I used to try and climb its branches and almost got an injury from doing so. Cliche. Now, it just looked less big than the way I saw it when I was little. Maybe my perspective has changed so much, that things have become a bit less average than how I envisioned them when I was still a kid.

Cliche. I only got a cliche childhood and yet it instantly brings back a lot of silly memories. I started looking around the other houses from ours and began wondering about the other kids I used to play around here with before. And as I begin to familiarise myself with all of it, a particular corner had me recalling a certain part of my past. One house down across from ours, the largest house in the neighborhood with the most beautiful yard, I find myself staring at it.

David.

Looking back, their house has always been the largest in town. They've been one of the richest and most looked-up people here in Rockville because of their status. Both his parents were big people. His father is a very known lawyer in the district while his mother runs a very famous boutique in the city. Their family had always seemed too perfect, sophisticated, classy, and way up above the ladder. And now that I think about it, I never really figured out how David and I became best friends before. We were so far apart in terms of our personal lives and financial status. Yet somehow, we just clicked.

Have you ever tried to kiss someone?

I immediately shook that thought away before it leads me back to that old memory again. What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about David again? Didn’t I already tell myself to completely forget everything about it? 

Really. Why am I making myself even more confused?

“What are you thinking?” mom suddenly appears right in front of me, voicing out my anxieties, as she stares me down with an impatient look. She is now holding a box full of our stuff that she must have taken out from the backseat of our car. I was so lost in my thoughts that I even forgot we were trying to repack our things inside the house now.

“Nothing,” I immediately tell her with a smile, completely erasing the unwanted thoughts in my head. “It’s nothing.”

“Then what’s the spacing out for?” She tells me and nudges my shin with her foot before turning away. She started walking towards the front door of the house but stops midway for a moment to look at me again.

"We still have lots of stuff to do, Timmy. Hurry up.” She adds before she finally disappears inside.

I nodded back and quickly moved away from where I was leaning by the side of our car to start taking out some boxes from the backseat too. And as soon as I started walking the path up to the house, I hear mom screaming my name from the inside.

“I’m coming!” I responded to her and swiftly went into the door.

The moment I stepped right into the doorway, my mind begin to reimagine the old times back when I was twelve. Surprisingly, the house still felt the same under my feet and from my eyes. But the smell distinctively changed. Bit by bit, the feelings inside my chest slowly began to be reawakened, and I could feel it bubbling up to my head…

Feelings that I thought I’ve already buried deep down my brain. Feelings I did not want to come back again. But somehow, they were still just lurking inside, and have only been there waiting to come out again, anytime soon.

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Present, 2021

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COLIN

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“I’M WAYNE.”

The sleek, thin, and immature-looking kid stood before me, holding his hand out like a respective man meaning business. He leveled his gaze with mine and waited for me to acknowledge his gesture in a patient stance. I could only bite back a smile as I took it with pleasure and shook his hand with my firm grip. He looked like he completely knew what he’s getting into, and that’s what I was thinking as I skeptically watched him under my nose.

“Nice to meet you, Wayne,” I told him, merely smiling, “I’m Colin.”

“Yeah,” The kid nodded back, “Evangeline already told me about you.”

“So, you play like a pro?” I asked with a raised brow, prompting a challenging demand. The moment I spoke the words at him, a spark of pride passed over his face and Wayne smirked back at me.

“I’ll let you be the judge of it after you hear me play,” he only said.

The arrogance in his tone didn’t put me off and instead, it impressed me on another level. This kid knows what he’s up to. And his confidence just added a notch to my expectations.

“Let’s see,” I said sharing a knowing look with my bandmates. “You guys think this is our man?”

Sam, Eric, and Steve just pasted smiles on their faces as they watched the kid moved to take the seat in front of the drums.

“What’s your piece?” I then asked Wayne as he settled himself on his throne.

“Anyone knows how to play ‘Birdland’?” he asked us, boastfully twirling the sticks through his fingers as if he’d already done it so many times before. Sam only snorted back, indicating that she knows it. Eric gave him a blank look. I smiled at his cockiness.

A jazz piece, how peculiar.

It’s rare for me to meet someone of his age with that kind of taste. Playing jazz requires a lot of control and discipline. It’s not just a provocative play, jazz has so many sides that only people who are adeptly attuned to music can definitely play with pride. I suddenly started to believe that the kid was really no joke. And I could only smirk at the music piece he just said.

“I can play the keys, Sam can strum the bass and Eric can do an adlib to the tune,” Steve immediately nodded with apparent interest. Steve is a jazz musician so I could very well be pleased to hear how this kid can play against Steve’s professional expertise. And as I stood and watched them plan how to do it, I waited for their first beat to come. Immediately, Wayne did a quick run-through to the tempo he wanted, tapping a few beats on the barrels and the cymbals.

“I’ll catch on the temp after the first four chords,” he told Steve. My bandmate only smiled with delight and nodded again. As the cue of his sticks began to play, the song started in a repetitive playful sound. Sam began the basic intro with her bass guitar and Wayne jived in so naturally. He coursed through the beat of Buddy Rich’s style, letting Steve lead the song with the piano. It was an interesting demonstration. It’s like the music moved in his soul and he did not need the adjustments from Steve to guide him along. He just quickly laid off on the hooks and bounced down on the beats.

As the tempo moved so fluidly into the atmosphere, I found myself nodding my head while I enjoyed the tempting sound of every stop and note of their piece. It was really engaging and I only observed with pure awe as Wayne lost himself to the sound. He closed his eyes, his mouth mumbling some words I couldn’t decipher and my bandmates carried on with him as they continued playing with smiles on their faces.

‘It is him. He is my drummer now,’ I told myself.

The moment it ended in the middle of the piece, my bandmates started cheering and threw encouraging words at Wayne.

“You’re not so bad,” I commented at him but we all knew it’s not just that good. It was excellent.

“How’d you learn to play like that?” I asked him, not trying to hide my sudden interest.

“My old man played horns before and he used to run classic jazz pieces on our cassette every day since I was born,” he said to me, “It stuck and I started playing drums over it. It became a hobby.”

Well... A driven old soul playing in such a youthful shell. I can’t believe Evangeline would really find me a person who would fit my standards. I'm giving her the credit for this. And if we ever really make it big someday, I’d keep a mental note to never forget thanking her.

“So, Wayne,” I told him, my voice uttered with obvious satisfaction and arrogance as I stared at those brown eyes that met mine with hopeful desperation, “Ready for a live show tonight?”

It’ll be the very first one to date. And to make a debut with the band even when I knew we’re still grasping on adjustments with the songs I’ve made to fit our music, I still wanted to take this risk. After all, we will never make any progress if we don’t face it anytime soon.

“Do we already have a song?” Wayne just asked me, his face filled with determination and confidence.

“Yeah.” I nodded at him, smiling. “Wanna hear it now?”

“Bring it on,” he grinned back. And for the first time in my entire life, I felt an enormous surge of passion. My official bandmates all gave me an approving look as they waited for my signal to play the music of our band. I moved to pick up my favorite guitar resting above the speaker behind me. And as I adjusted the strap around my body, I turned to look at them again.

“Ready?”

They just nodded at me. And as I cued them to start playing… I only have one running thought in mind.

Tonight, we’ll definitely make it happen.

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