Chapter 36

We got back to the beach house, but all three of us were too keyed up to go to sleep. This was pretty much the last day of our trip, since the next day would mostly be spent driving home. We had to go clear across the state, and I wanted to be back in time to play my Sunday set at the Blue Ridge, since I’d missed the previous Sunday and this Friday and Saturday.

I knew Willie didn’t mind covering for me a little longer, skipping Sunday along with the rest would mean one more day the rest of the band didn’t get to play. While it would mean less money for me to give Mom, I didn’t really need the money, at least not in the same way they did. They were all trying to make an actual living doing this and had rent and things to pay. Sure, we’d picked up a good amount of money at the festival, but it wasn’t ‘take the week off’ kind of money, and they’d had to spring for gas and a hotel room on top of everything else.

With stops, it was going to take us six or seven hours to get home and I’d agreed to a short practice beforehand, since we’d had to skip Saturday. I’d mostly worked out the beginning brush strokes for Jesse James, the new song I’d been working on, and I wanted to run it by them. I knew I veered a bit more country than they did in my music tastes, so I figured they’d try to pull it further to rock, which was kind of what I was looking for.

I’d been thinking over the changes we’d made to my songs and to Seth’s song, and I was starting to see some patterns building that, long term, would help define us as a band if we made a go of this thing. Between my country/rock combo, Marco’s pop, Seth’s rock, and Lyla’s alt/grunge rock, we’d actually started to blend our own sound that kind of made a combination of the whole lot. If I had to call it anything, it was a rock/pop fusion, since what country sounds we had kept getting turned more pop, leaving only a trace of its country roots.

The fact that I’d started to figure out who we were as a band was why I wanted to get back for the practice. I was honestly interested to find out what they were going to do to the country sound of Jesse James.

When we got to the house, the girls had gone to their rooms to take off their makeup and get changed into comfortable clothing, while I went out onto the back porch one last time, since I didn’t really have anything more comfortable than the t-shirts and jeans I was already wearing. I’d found I really enjoyed sitting out here, smelling the sea air and thinking.

Although I spent my youth living in an RV in state parks, I hadn’t actually done much sitting outside. If I wasn’t doing something active, like playing baseball, I’d just be back in the RV. Even when we moved to Wellsville, which was a pretty quiet mountain community, I hadn’t really spent much time just outside. I was either in school, playing ball, or in some other building. When I got back, I planned to find time to just sit outside at night when it was quiet and see if it was the quiet or the sea air that I was really enjoying.

Either way, I wanted one last night out on the pouch before we had to go back, sitting on the swinging bench that I really liked. The only downside of sitting out here at night was that the temperature had dropped. We were heading into spring, but the last cold of the year hadn’t cleared all the way yet and a chilly breeze was coming off the Atlantic.

I must have been shivering when Hanna came outside, because she stuck her head through the back door and hollered to Kat, “Bring a blanket when you come out. Charlie’s cold.”

She’d been more sensible than me, wearing a hoodie, thick sweat pants, and furry slippers on her feet. She actually looked really cozy and part of me thought it was unfair that guys didn’t get to dress all comfortably like that. Of course, we also didn’t have to wear high heels, so maybe it balanced out.

Hanna took one of the rocking chairs that kind of faced the rocking swing and sat down.

“You should have gotten a coat at least,” she admonished me.

“It’s not that cold,” I said not being that believable.

Kat came out dressed about like Hanna was and carrying a big fluffy blanket. Sitting right up next to me, she tucked her legs under her, threw the blanket over both of us, and leaned into me, putting her head on my shoulder. Between the blanket and our body warmth, I quickly warmed up and stopped shivering.

“Last night,” Kat said almost wistfully.

“Yeah. I take it everyone had fun this weekend?” Hanna asked.

“Absolutely. It was so relaxing, getting to forget about all of the problems and stuff going on back home and just hang out. Thanks so much for inviting us.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Kat said. “Tonight was fun too, even though Charlie likes to pretend he doesn’t like to dance.”

“I don’t. I feel like a fool every time.”

“You don’t look like a fool,” Hanna said. “You’ve been doing all that martial arts stuff with Chef, learning to control your body. I’m surprised you haven’t worked out how to translate that into dancing. I bet if you really watched people and thought about it, you’d be pretty good. You’re just too self-conscious, all up in your head like you get when you start worrying.”

“I guess, but they’re pretty different.”

“Still, if you just let yourself go, I think you’d have fun. Besides, you got to play tonight, and we all know that makes it a good night for you.”

“It does. Plus, I’ve got two new songs brewing, which puts me at eight songs. Nine if Lyla comes through with the one she said she’s been working on. Two or three more and we’re ready for the audition.”

“Good,” Hanna said. “Well, you two hang out a bit longer, but I’ve got to go to bed, since we’re leaving by eight and I’m doing most of the driving.”

Hanna had a thing where she didn’t really like other people driving her car. It was a long drive and she’d agreed, tentatively at least, to let one of us drive for a bit, but I half suspected that was just to get us to shut up and she planned to do all of it, herself.

“Night,” Kat said, not opening her eyes.

Hanna went inside and Kat and I just sat in silence, listening to the ocean crashing ashore down at the beach. A strong wind blew in and Kat tried to snuggle up closer into me, but my arm was in the way. She tugged on it a few times before I finally lifted it and put my arm around her so she could push into my side a little more. She sighed and I swore if she were a cat she’d be purring.

“You’re not going to play all twelve songs at your audition are you?” Kat asked, not opening her eyes.

“I don’t think so. We aren’t just playing for him. He’s going to come to one of our performances. So we’ll be playing whatever set we put together for that night, but I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear any covers. We play about an hour to an hour and a half and even with a break that means, like, fifteen to twenty songs, depending on how much stage patter I do and which songs we pick. I don’t think we’ll have that many, but I’m also not sure how many he’ll stay and listen to, since he’s probably a busy guy and he hears a lot of unknown bands play. Mr. French said we should also pay attention to the lineup, because it’s not just about how good individual songs are, but how the experience makes us feel. Like, we don’t want to go from a goofy story song into something deep and sad, since the audience wouldn’t really feel what we want them to with the second song. He said he’d have Rowan, his producer friend, to come down and help us come up with a setlist though.”

“That’s nice of him. So what are these two new songs?”

“The first one is what I was thinking of when I said it was goofy. It’s a story song about someone on a train robbery with Jesse James. It’s the first thing I’ve written that didn’t directly relate to me and I don’t really know about it. I’m actually happy with the lyrics and the music for it, but it doesn’t have the emotional depth Seth’s song or my other songs have.”

“Is it fun?”

“I think so.”

“Then keep it. You can’t have everything be all deep and serious, can you? Like, if you’re going for emotional depth, wouldn’t you burn out the listener a little bit?”

“Huh,” I said, tilting my head and thinking about it. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“See, I’m useful to have around.”

“Sometimes,” I said, and then jumped back as she poked me in the ribs. “Sorry, I meant to say always.”

“That’s better. What about the other one?”

“It’s still got a long way to go, but I’m going to call it Tomorrow’s Lullaby. I thought about it the other day watching the water roll in and out. Originally it’d be about how time rolls in and out like the waves, but I’ve kind of explored the idea from there. It’s going to be more about doing the things we should do tomorrow, today, instead of waiting. I know as a premise, it’s kind of hacky, but that doesn’t make it a bad idea.”

“Do you have the tune or words for it?”

“A little. I’ve got part of the first verse and most of the chorus.”

“Could you sing it for me?”

“It’s a little late to bring my guitar out.”

“No. Just sing it. I know you think you’re best at the guitar, but I love your voice. It’s soothing. Sing a little to me.”

“Okay. Umm ... this is kind of what I have for the chorus,” I said, taking a second to get what I wanted into my head.

_The morning is a promise that’s not always kept

Like the tide gone back to sea,

Like a tear that’s left unwept.

Tomorrow’s lullaby is the lie we always tell ourselves

The dream we’ll have the morning,

The hope we’ve had our last farewell._

“That’s kind of sad,” Kat said, lifting her head and looking up at me. “Why are so many of your songs sad?”

“I don’t think they’re all sad. Country Roads ends on a happy note.”

“Yeah, but like a sad happy note and everything before the last verse is sad. I’ll give you the song about breaking up with Rhonda, but the thing about your growing up backstage with your dad is sad. If I didn’t know Cherished to Death was about Aaron, I might sympathize with the kid you’re talking about and feel sad. And then there’s this one. It’s all about losing stuff.”

She had a point, except for Country Roads they were all basically about facing loss. Even Jesse James, involved the narrator talking about losing his friend Jesse, who died to protect him.

“I don’t know. When I first started writing, Mr. French talked about writing stuff that fills the audience with emotion, and the only way that happens is about tapping into something I find moving when I’m writing.”

“That makes it sound like the only thing you feel is loss, but that doesn’t really match with how you are.”

“It’s not; at least I don’t think it is. I think I’m happy more than sad most of the time.”

“You should try writing about happy things sometimes. People don’t want to just be bummed out all the time. It’s like with that other song. You have to give people a variety of emotions to feel if you want to really connect. Unless you’re planning on only being popular with the emo kids.”