Chapter 42: This Fraying Cord

I was waiting for Muireann to emerge from the restroom before we headed to photography class, when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I figured she was playing the other-shoulder trick to get me to look the wrong way, but I was surprised to find Bruno there after all.

“Oh, hey man ... What’s up?” I greeted.

“We need to talk,” he said quietly, glancing anxiously down the hall.

“Hm. Let me guess ... Pete?”

“Yeah. Are you heading to class? I can walk with you.”

“I am, but ... I need to wait for Muireann. She’s in the bathroom. What’s going on?”

“So we rehearsed last night for the talent show, you know, and it was kind of bad.”

“Skinner and Pete got into it again?”

“Not really that ... Just that half the time Pete wasn’t even playing. Well, he was playing something, just not with us. He’d turn his volume off and mess around on other songs.”

I sighed. “I guess he did that at the park show, at least to start out with.”

“Yeah, well ... Oh, hi.”

I turned to find Muireann returning.

“Hi Bruno,” she greeted.

“So do you know what’s going on with him?” I asked.

“Um ... I guess I can talk to you later,” he demurred.

“Why, do you have class?”

“No, just study hall, but...”

“We can be a few minutes late to photography, don’t worry.”

He still hesitated, throwing a furtive glance Muireann’s way.

I suddenly realized what his issue was and laughed. “Oh, Muireann knows what’s going on with Pete. You can talk, it’s fine.”

Bruno’s face took on some relief at this. “All right. I didn’t know if it was cool.”

“It is,” I said, as we set off down the long hall. “So, why is he doing this?”

He shrugged in response. “It’s hard to say with him these days. I still think it’s all the weed he’s smoking,” he added quietly, scanning the hallways in paranoia as he spoke.

“Look out, Dr. K is right behind you!”

Well, I wanted to say that, but the topic was far too serious for such joking around.

“Could be ... Is he smoking again?”

Bruno frowned at me. “Huh? Again?”

“I thought he stopped? Well, whatever. He’s obviously not getting along with Skinner. So maybe that’s all it is. He wants to play in the band but he can’t deal with the guy.”

“That’s the weird thing though ... I mean, sure, Skinner is over the top, and he can be blunt and even annoying sometimes, but it’s not like he’s there picking on Pete, you know? We usually have a good time at rehearsals. I mean, that time you showed up was a little awkward, but it’s usually not like that. He’s not as bad as he seems when you first—”

“Why doesn’t Pete take any guitar solos when you play?” Muireann abruptly asked, stepping in front of him and stopping our march through the hall. Bruno looked at her blankly.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “It’s just the way it goes?”

“Has Pete picked any of the songs you do?” she pressed.

“Um ... I don’t think he has, no. Skinner sings, so he kind of has to pick them, you know?”

“Then does Pete at least help with arranging the songs?”

“Arranging? What do you mean? We just play them.”

“How do you decide the parts and how they go together?”

“We just ... follow Skinner, I guess. He knows these songs really well, so ... But ... Do you mean...” Bruno trailed off into contemplation.

I was smiling by now. “So what’s Pete’s deal?” I asked, more gently than Muireann’s sweet-voiced interrogation.

Bruno huffed. “Okay, I think I see what you’re saying.”

“You really didn’t see that until now?” she asked.

He seemed to shrink. “Well, of course—Of course I did! Just ... You know, we haven’t played that much, all right? I know you guys are probably rehearsing together a ton, but since Skinner joined, we just jam every now and then, when he’s up in the area. So it’s not like Pete and Skinner are always together, or that the band is even doing that much. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Well, obviously it is to Pete.”

“All right, I get that now.”

“What are you doing about it?” Muireann asked.

“Me?”

“Aren’t you his friend?”

I winced when I glanced at her face, wondering if she’d maybe learned that look from Alana. Who is this girl beside me?

“Of course I am!” he protested. “What the heck are you trying to say?”

“That you should talk to him about it.”

Bruno blinked as he remained tense, but then he slumped a bit. “He doesn’t really talk about stuff anymore, though. I don’t know. Why haven’t you talked to him, Matt?”

I grunted at his deflection. “Well, he won’t talk to me either,” I admitted. “And I’ve tried. I called him three times already this week to invite him over to jam with Muireann and me, but he just says, ‘I’ll see what’s going on tonight,’ and then never shows up.”

“Oh ... I didn’t know that.”

“Well, I was keeping it just between us,” I explained. “No one else needs to know, since ... Well, since there’s a lot of old stuff there to deal with otherwise, you know?”

Bruno took a long breath. “So what do we do?”

“Keep trying. Come on, let’s walk. Do you still practice at Carl’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, your setup there sucks for Pete.”

“What? Why?” Bruno asked.

“He’s like in the corner, behind Skinner’s amps! Like he’s not even in the band.”

“It’s just the way the room is, man! Where is Pete supposed to stand? On top of Carl’s drums?”

“No. Just practice somewhere else.”

Bruno made a face. “Where? My house is out, you know that.”

“I don’t know. Set up outside in the yard at Carl’s then. It’s nice enough these days. Figure something out, if you want to help Pete. He wants to play in the band, but if no one stands up for him against Skinner, then yeah, I’d be pissed and depressed too.”

Bruno slowed, seeming unsteady. Then he actually sat down on the stairs. Luckily the bell had just rung, so the disruption to traffic was minimal.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“This is crazy,” he groaned.

Before I could answer, Muireann sat down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Just do it, Bruno. Be there for your friend.”

He looked at her, and I could see the effects of her soothing voice in his eyes. He nodded slowly. “All right ... I’ll try. I’ll figure something out.”

“And I’ll keep trying too,” I said. “We all will.”

Pete was another no-show for ‘music in the woods’ on Friday night despite me calling and practically begging him. I was getting the message that he simply did not want to come to our house. Perhaps it was justified; after all, he certainly had a lot of memories he’d formed there over the years. And for much of that to be lost to him... Would I visit Heather’s house, if we went to Montauk tomorrow? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t called her parents, so that suggested that the answer was negative.

Despite the cloud of worry that gnawed on me regarding my friend, I woke up in good spirits on Saturday morning. This feeling was in spite of the early hour, given that it was a weekend. Melissa packed us all a picnic lunch and the six of us spent the morning down in the Gunks, hiking and enjoying the late spring perfection. The waterfalls were full and raucous, and Tommy couldn’t resist singing his song Gunkstomp to its namesake mountains, multiple times. We didn’t mind accompanying him with our hands and feet and voices, and by the time we sat to eat, we even had a decent a cappella version of it. Our parents found it quite amusing and even joined in by the thirtieth time.

Upon returning home, my folks dropped us off and headed out for some errands. Left to our own devices, the four of us teamed up to make short work of cleaning the picnic ware, because Colin and Gwen would be coming over within the hour for rehearsal.

“So is the rest of Other Side ready?” I asked Tommy and Lara. They were washing – well, Lara was; Tommy was just messing around – and I was repacking the picnic basket with items that Muireann was drying.

“Aye, lad, we have the sections worked out.”

“The words are done,” Lara added.

“We’re going to have to get serious on it tonight,” I mused. “We barely got the first part going last week, and that seems like the most straightforward one.”

“It’s a long song,” Tommy said simply. “But we’ll connect it all together.”

“I hope so.”

“It’ll likely be better today, since we’re not starting on it near midnight,” Muireann remarked.

“True, true ... Damn, we’re like a fricking machine here,” I remarked, as the washing was already wrapping up. It wasn’t unexpected, though; we’d been this way for months now, with everything from homework to chores.

I was the nearest person to the phone when it rang, so Muireann took over my job for the last few items as I answered.

“Hello!” I bellowed happily.

“I need to talk to Lara!” a desperate voice blurted out, shattering my grin.

“What? Who is this?”

“Please, can you put her on?”

“Pete? What’s going on?”

“Is she there?”

“Tell me what’s going on!”

“Skinner got mad again ... He’s not going to do the talent show!”

“What? He quit?” I exclaimed, as Lara and the twins slowed their activity and stared at me.

“Yeah, and I’m freaking out! Everything is fucked up!”

“Calm down, man. It’ll be all right.”

“It won’t! I can’t ... I need to talk to Lara, please!”

I hesitated, my heart racing at the desperation in his voice, an echo of things I still struggled with at times. “What happened with Skinner?”

“Is Lara there? Matt, you have to find her! Is she out?”

“Pete, calm down,” I repeated, though I found my advice becoming harder and harder for even me to follow at this point.

“I can’t man! I’m freaking out over here, and I don’t know ... I can’t ... Please...”

“Okay, let me go get her. Just stay on the line, okay?”

I cupped the mouthpiece and gestured Lara over. “It’s Pete.”

“I figured that much. What’s going on?”

“He’s freaking out, saying Skinner got mad and quit or something. He really wants to talk to you. I’m not sure, though ... He sounds weird.”

Lara’s eyes narrowed as anxiety flashed through them. She swallowed and steeled herself with a breath. “Okay, let me talk to him.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded resolutely. I braced myself and handed the phone to her as the twins stood near, aware of the gravity of whatever was unfolding.

“Hello?”

She listened and her face drew into concern right away.

“Pete, slow down! Don’t—”

She shook her head, her eyes growing wide.

“No! It’s not—”

She cupped the mouthpiece and looked at me with wretched eyes. “Go to his house!” she whispered. “And hurry!”

The alarm in her eyes put a whip to me. Hurry... ? On fearsome impulse I grabbed the car keys from the hook near the front door. I burst out onto the deck, taking the stairs in a single leap and almost wiping out upon landing in the loose dirt. I heard the door opening behind me and glanced back to find Muireann rushing after me.

“No, you don’t have to—” I called out to her.

“I’m coming with you,” she insisted, and with that she got in the passenger seat.

I fumbled with the keys, finally managing to start the engine, but then I let go of the clutch and the car lurched forward, stalling out. I’d forgotten that Sarah had said to always leave it in gear when parked.

Muireann put her hand on mine and gazed at me. “Matt ... Just take a breath.”

Oh yeah ... Breathe...

I did, calming myself. It would be no good if I steered into a ditch or got pulled over for driving like some idiot who didn’t have their license yet, even if I was exactly that.

“Okay ... Yeah, you’re right.”

I started the car again and this time I managed to think straight. I drove with care but not too slowly as we went down our driveway and then along the roads that led to Pete’s house. Muireann didn’t speak, only kept her hand on my forearm for support.

With the benefit of a car, Pete’s house wasn’t far at all, and I soon pulled into his empty driveway. Muireann and I rushed to the door. I was about to knock, when she stayed my arm.

“Does he know you’re coming?”

I considered. “I don’t know.”

Muireann carefully tried the door, but it was locked. She then knocked loudly. We waited anxiously as the lack of response grew more and more ominous. I rapped on the glass, pounded on the wood with my foot, and soon we were calling for Pete, making what noise we could, and hoping the neighbors weren’t dialing the cops.

Is he even home... ?

“Maybe he called from somewhere else,” I muttered.

Muireann was peering through the living room windows. “I don’t see anyone.”

“Their car isn’t here.”

None of these observations were quelling the fear, though. Muireann went around the side of the house while I knocked again. I soon heard another knocking sound from her direction. I ran to join her, finding her peering into Pete’s bedroom.

“He’s there!” she called.

I looked in. Pete was on his bed, curled up on his side. The phone was lying off the hook on his pillow. His room was a war zone, his chair lying on its side, his floor strewn with piles of clothes and bedding, writing implements, and a bunch of cassette cases in all manner of disarray.

“Pete!”

We screamed a few times, and then I made for the front of the house. Muireann started following me.

“No, stay there and watch him!” I called back to her.

I reached the front entrance, hesitated for a moment, and then smashed my elbow flatly against the seventh square of their nine-paned door. The glass shattered messily and I reached through the jagged hole to unlock the door. I was nowhere near steady enough for this task, though. When I pulled my arm out, a long bloom of red materialized on my inner forearm, immediately accompanied by a razor-sharp pain.

“Fuck!” I cried, squeezing my wrist tight as I pushed into the house unsteadily and rushed to Pete’s bedroom. His door was also locked, and there was no glass option this time. I pounded a few times, but Pete was clearly out of it ... or worse.

My heart was gripped tightly around my throat now. I threw my weight against the door, a second time, and a third, and fortunately the latch finally gave way. Muireann was still at the window, but she immediately disappeared from sight when she saw me crash in.

“Pete!” I cried, shaking his shoulder gently with my free hand as best I could, while I stemmed my own bleeding against my shirt.

No answer ... His eyes were open, staring at the wall. I could tell that he was alive, at least, but considering the complete lack of reaction to my dramatic entry, he was certainly out of it.

I picked up the idle phone, since I could hear Lara calling out from the tiny speaker in desperation.

“I’m here,” I gasped. “Not sure what’s going on, but he’s breathing.”

“Oh, thank god, Matt!”

“I’ll call you back.”

“No, leave the line open!” she pleaded.

I set the receiver down and shook Pete again, wincing at the drops of blood that my arm was spattering all over his sheet. Damn it...

“Come on, talk to me, man!”

Muireann entered in a rush. I showed her my wrist and shrugged desperately as the blood still seeped out of the cut. Her eyes widened and she immediately ran off again.

Desperation was edging into paralyzed fear now.

“Pete, are you hurt? Did you do something? Take pills? Talk to me man!”

He remained unresponsive.

I picked up the phone again. “Did he, Lara?”

“I don’t know!” she wailed. “He didn’t say!”

A slight bit of hope swelled in me as I saw him take a deeper breath. Still, I couldn’t be sure if he was just in a depressed trance or if something worse was happening to him as a result of—Of what? I looked around the room, but nothing dangerous was apparent in the mess. No guarantee, but it’s something to hold on to...

Muireann returned with a crumple of paper towels, which I promptly placed onto the cut. It was a wholly inadequate bandage, but it would have to do for now.

“Pete, I swear I’m about to take you to the hospital, if you don’t talk to me!”

I gave him only long enough for me to better organize the absorbent wad on my wrist. I was just about to ask Muireann to help me get him to the car, when he moved his arm to rub his eyes.

“Go home, Matt,” he croaked.

“What? Why?”

“There’s nothing you can do here.”

“I’m not fucking going home. Tell me what’s wrong!”

“Everything sucks ... And no one can fix it. Just go home. I’ll survive, even though I ... don’t want to...”

I glanced at Muireann. She was clearly stricken at the scene.

“I’m not going home, all right? Do you need to go to the hospital... ? Do you? Look, you either say no, or I’m dragging you to the car right now, whether you want to or not.”

Despite my threat, Pete still took his time in answering. “No. I didn’t do anything stupid. Not this time.”

Jesus... I took a long breath, shivering out the worst of my panic. “Okay ... That’s good...” I wheezed. “And I’m not going anywhere, all right?”

Muireann remained standing at the foot of the bed, her hand over her mouth. She only shook her head empathetically.

“You said something happened with Skinner,” I said, more quietly now. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

He took forever to answer. “I don’t think I can.”

“Okay, just relax then. Um ... When are your parents back?”

“I don’t know, but you don’t have to stay,” he muttered. “Go home.”

“Not happening, man. No way. We’ll get this sorted out, all right? I’m here for you. Stay calm.”

Pete started shaking somewhat violently, though. I kept a steadying arm on his shoulder, looking at Muireann with helplessness as she brought me a fresh wad of paper and took the red mess to the trash. On returning, Pete was still convulsing. She waved for me to move aside. I slid toward the foot of the bed so she could sit near him as he continued to melt down.

She steadied herself with a deep breath. I figured she was as overwhelmed as I was, and just trying to stay settled, but then she started to sing.

It was amplified by everything that was happening, so this also caused me to start trembling. Her pure voice filled the room, despite the fact that the melody came so quietly from her lips. It seemed a lullaby of sorts, in that language that was so soothing.

After a few minutes, I saw that Pete had stopped shaking. He rolled onto his back in a moment of tortured wonder, staring up at Muireann with bloodshot eyes. She sang on.

It was then that I noticed a red splotch on his pillow and panicked, before realizing that his left cheek was cracked open, bruised and bloody.

Oh my god ... Fucking Skinner... !

Before I could tear off a piece of my makeshift gauze, Pete turned back to his initial position and resumed staring at the wall again.

Despite wanting – needing, even – to listen to Muireann until she finished, however long that would take, I realized I had to make myself as useful as I could.

I squeezed Muireann’s free hand meaningfully and then rose. Satisfied that she had control of things for now, I stepped out into the house. A quick check around the main living space revealed nothing out of the ordinary. No pills, blades, blood, or guns...

I lifted the phone receiver in the kitchen, setting it aside, and then slipped back to his room. Quietly I took up the phone there and replaced it on the hook. Finally, I returned to the kitchen.

“Lara, are you there?”

“Yeah, I am,” she managed, though her voice was choked.

“Sorry for the clicking, but I wanted to talk to you in the other room, so I switched phones.”

“Yeah, I figured. What’s going on? I heard Muireann singing.”

“She’s with him, and he’s ... well, he’s lying in bed, so I guess he’s stable for now. What did he tell you?”

“I don’t really know. He’s not well, Matt. He was going on and on about stuff I couldn’t understand.”

“Did he say anything useful? I mean, I think he hasn’t done anything to himself, but...”

“No, he didn’t say anything like that, but he sounded like he was maybe going to.”

I sighed heavily. The nightmares keep multiplying...

“Okay, well ... Obviously we’re going to wait here at least until his folks get home.”

“Of course. Should I call Colin and Gwen, tell them not to come?”

I sighed, considering... “No, don’t call them. Have Tommy start teaching them Other Side, or we’re never going to learn it. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Okay,” she said quietly. “Do you need any help over there? Should I come over?”

“No, just stay there. I need to think.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything. I’ll stay here by the phone for now.”

“Sounds good.”

I hung up, but my pondering was soon interrupted by the phone ringing. Thinking it was probably Lara with second thoughts, I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Oh my god, Pete?” came the urgent voice.

“Bruno?”

“Yeah ... Wait, who is this?”

“It’s Matt.”

“Oh, did I dial your house? Shit.”

“No, I’m at Pete’s.”

“Really? What are you doing there?”

I ignored his question. “What happened today?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Skinner, man. What happened?”

“Uh ... We were rehearsing, you know, and...” Bruno went quiet.

“Come on, man, I need you to tell me.”

“We had, um ... Well, we had rehearsal, and it wasn’t good, man. Pete was acting all weird, and...”

I didn’t have much patience as the silence returned. “Bruno, out with it already!”

“Well he, uh ... He’s been wanting to do some different songs for the talent show. He was kind of going crazy about it. I, um ... I feel bad, because I guess I asked him to pick a song we could try ... Like you told me in school the other day, remember?”

“Yeah, of course. Go on.”

“So I told him, bring in a song, we’ll try it out and see if we can do it. And he thought that was cool. But today he came over and was going berserk. He had like five songs on this mix tape, and he said was even going to sing one himself ... I mean we only have a few weeks until the show, and he wanted to learn all this new stuff.”

Oh, Pete...

“And what happened?” I asked, despite feeling like I knew how the rest of the story was going to go.

“It was weird music, man. Like noisy guitars, strange drum sounds ... I mean, it was interesting, but not the kind of stuff Skinner likes to play, that’s for sure. But Pete wouldn’t give it up, so he made us listen to all the songs, and Skinner was so not into it ... And Pete started being a bit of a jerk about it, honestly. Then Skinner finally flipped out, and he was like, this music is so shitty, and dissing it like crazy.”