Faded Memories on the Wall

March 1998

“I understand that language breeds stereotype/But what's the explanation for the malice, for the spite?”

I murmured along with the stereo, enjoying listening to NOFX as I shuffled through a box that was the temporary home to several CDs that needed to be sorted and placed around the store.

It had been a fairly slow day in the shop and I was bored out of my mind. Needless to say I was glad when a familiar ringing sounded and even though I normally dread answering the phone I reached for it enthusiastically.

“Front Records, this is Evie,” I said after placing the receiver to my ear.

“What are you wearing?” A smooth and somewhat seedy voice spoke.

“Excuse me?”

“Wanna go on a date?”

“Who is this?” I asked, a shaky ‘amused but frightened’ laugh escaping me.

“I’m booooooored Evie,” I finally recognised the voice as one Tré Cool, the elongated word and the whine in his voice indicating that he was bored with his flirting game from seconds earlier.

I laughed into the phone. “Hi Tré.”

“I’m bored, entertain me,” he demanded and I could almost picture the pout he was most likely pulling.

“Where are you?”

“On a bus in the middle of bumfuck no where and I thought I’d give you a ringringring.”

“I’m glad you thought of me,” I said as I moved to take a seat at a stool behind the counter. “Where exactly is this ‘bumfuck’ place? I can’t say I’ve heard of that town.”

“God only knows Evie, god only knows.” He trailed off, waiting for me to ‘entertain him’ as per his request.

I chuckled appropriately and gazed around the store for a topic of conversation. “So how’s the tour going?”

“It’s not too bad,” he said, finally speaking normally. “The actual playing is always fun. But it’s the sitting around for hours on this bus that is killing me. I’m not made to be cooped up.”

“You poor thing – the rock star life must be hard.”

He ignores my teasing and I hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line, evidently restless and trying to get comfortable yet again.

“So how is life back home?” He eventually spoke. “How’s the kid?”

“Drake is excellent and life is going okay, definitely not as exciting as being on tour but I’m pretty good.”

“That’s good to hear; I’ll have to meet Drake some day.”

“And I will definitely have to meet your mini-female-Frank.”

“Oh god,” he grimaced through the phone. “I’ve told you a thousand times not to call me Frank.”

“You haven’t told me that in a long time Frank,” I said through my laughter. “How was I supposed to know you hadn’t grown to love the name in the years we’ve been apart?”

“It has been a while hasn’t it,” he spoke softly. I was suddenly reminded of the Tré I came to be best friends with all those years ago; completely goofy and caring all at the same time.

“Hey do you remember your birthday back in ’91 or something?” he broke me from my thoughts, before sending me hurtling back in time in an attempt to remember the specific date he was talking about. “We decided we were going to go and get tattoos and then you chickened out?”

“And you just ended up drawing your own face on my leg?” I giggled at the memory, shaking my head at its ridiculousness. “Yes, I swear I have a photo of it somewhere.”

***

A couple of hours later and I found myself at home, Drake playing quietly with his toy cars on the floor nearby, with a familiar box in front of me. I rifled through the various papers and items till I found a small photo album, filled with pictures from 1990-1991. Sure enough I was soon face to face with several pictures from my 19th birthday.

My eyes flicked over the images of Tré and me with nervous expressions as we walked towards the tattoo parlour, Billie Joe laughing from next to us. I remembered that Mike had appointed himself official documenter of our ink adventure and spent the day with my camera in hand, periodically snapping away in order to not miss a moment of my birthday celebrations.

The next pictures were taken a little later in the day when we had both gotten shit scared and ended up back in the guys tiny living room drawing on each other. My favourite featured Tré and I sitting next to each other on the sofa, my leg lifted up so you could see the incredibly artistic stick figure emblazoned on the shin – both of us were holding our thumbs up, grins spread across our faces.

My laughter at the memory slowly faded as I turned the page in the album to find the static family photos from that same evening – bringing forth memories of the crappy end to the night.

October 1991

I walked briskly down the stairs, the smile on my face acting as evidence of the great day I had had so far. Now if I could just had to live through the usual family dinner without incident then the birthday might have been perfect for perhaps the first time ever.

“What is that on your leg?!” My mother screeched at me; the smile seemed to slide away and I quickly went into ‘make Mum calm the fuck down’ mode.

“Mum,” I placated. “Chill out, it’s just a drawing done with markers; it’s not permanent ink or anything.”

“It better not be,” she murmured, still looking nervous as she came over to me to inspect my leg personally. “Who drew this? Was it that boyfriend of yours?”

“No, it was Tré,” I rolled my eyes at the disapproving tone in her voice.

The “hmmm” she gave in response indicated that she was closing that topic in favour of something else as she stood upright once more and placed her hands on her hips. “Speaking of which, are you sure you want to have this boy over for dinner? Wouldn’t it be nice if it was just the three of us?”

“This boy’s name is Mike,” I replied with exasperation, hating the way I sounded like a petty teenager but unable to discuss the ludicrous issue in any other way. “And yes I am sure I want him here for my birthday dinner.”

“I just don’t know if it’s appropriate for us to meet this way,” she continued to press her point. “And if it’s just a teenage fling it doesn’t seem right at all.”

“It’s not just a teenage fling and you’ve already met him - on more than one occasion!”

She opened her mouth to argue once more but I had had enough and knew I had to stop her before she got into one of her crazy ranting modes where she just screeched for hours.

“Mum, please just calm down,” I attempted to reason with her. “I know you don’t approve of Mike and the whole punk band thing but you need to trust me and know that I am not going to stop seeing him. It’s my birthday and I want him to be here so you’re going to have to deal with it.”

Dinner eventually got off to an okay start. Mike arrived and was completely sweet to my parents, but they didn’t buy it. I saw the way they eyed his earrings and his clothes and I was just thankful his long sleeves were covering the tattoo he had gotten a couple of months prior. I was also thankful that my parents didn’t say anything that was blatantly rude; at least they had some tact. We took some happy family photos – including a couple of me and Mike despite Mum’s insisting it wasn’t necessary – before heading into the dining room for the food.

“So Evie,” my Dad looked up from where he sat at the head of the table, half way through the main portion of the meal. “How are your classes going?”

“They are okay,” I replied. “But can’t we talk about something more interesting? I don’t really want to think about school on my birthday.”

“Now dear, there is nothing more interesting than your education.” He wouldn’t back down and posed the question again. “Are you doing well? You’ve always had excellent grades in the past.”

“I’m doing well enough,” I murmured while desperately trying to push thoughts of I want out of college! to the back of my mind.

“That doesn’t exactly sound convincing Evie,” my Mum chimed in, her brow furrowed and arm frozen in midair apparently too concerned to finish putting the food loaded fork in her mouth.

“It’s nothing to be worried about,” I spoke with my eyes fixed on my food, only daring to flick them up to look at Mike where he sat awkwardly across from me. “I just don’t really know if what I am doing is for me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dad’s voice got progressively louder as he spoke and I knew they wouldn’t let the conversation drop.

“I was thinking about maybe taking a little break,” I attempted to continue what I was saying and defend my decision but the response of my parents wouldn’t allow it. They both started speaking over the top of each other and I had to yell to make myself heard. “I only mean a short one, just to get myself back on track.”

They stopped talking once I raised my voice and I was able to speak softer as I continued my defence. “I just need to figure out what I want to do with my life, and there’s no point wasting time and money studying something that’s not going to get me anywhere.”

“And what do you propose you will do with your time missy?” My dad questioned sarcastically at the same time that my mother turned to Mike and said “Is this your influence?”

“Mum!” I exclaimed, completely appalled that she would make such a comment.

“Well?” she continued apparently on the war path. “These boys that you’ve been going around with this past year have no direction and are just floating around spending too much time in clubs, drinking and doing god knows what else and they are evidently dragging you down with them.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered before shooting an apologetic glance at a flabbergasted Mike who sat there with his jaw wide open, clearly too shocked to defend himself. “Okay we’re done here.” I stood up from my seat and threw my napkin down onto the table.

“Thank you for dinner, thank you for my gifts, and thank you for saying all of those lovely things about my closest friends. I’m staying at Mike’s tonight and going back to school in the morning, I’ll call you…sometime.”

I walked quickly around the other side of the table to where Mike was already standing and grabbed his hand to lead him out of the house. We completely ignored the protests of my parents and didn’t say another word until we had slammed the doors of his car and settled into the seats.

“Fuck,” my boyfriend murmured from next to me.

A giggle escaped my lips. I glanced over at him and caught his eye. There was a mischievous glint hidden there and I knew that it didn’t matter what my parents thought or said - I had found someone truly amazing and as long as he was there with me I was okay. We both burst out with laughter at the insanity of the evening before he reached over and placed his hand behind my head, pulling me into a soft kiss that made my lips tingle.

“Why are we laughing?” I murmured against his lips as we pulled away. “That was horrible,” I giggled again.

He let out a deep chuckle as he switched on the engine and began to back out of the drive way.

“I’ve got no idea, Evie, no fucking clue.”