With a Little Help from My Friends

A car zooms past me. It drives further and further away. I jog to catch up with it but am left with taste of dirt and failure in my mouth. I am doubled over with exhaustion. That feels like my life. My life is just taking off, and I can’t catch up with it. I am too slow. I was never great at running. In high school I always ditched PE to play music in the band room. But that is who I am, a slacker. Pretty strange how I ended up in one of the biggest pop bands around. Wait, we aren’t pop. Pop bands make me think of N*Sync and Backstreet Boys. That reminds me, Backstreet Boys just put out a new CD. Weird. Dance music? Alternative?

Fuck it. It doesn’t matter what music we play. What matters is that our band has blown up. I walk to the store to buy beer and some girls will do double takes. Granted, these girls are all around the age of… jailbait. Not my flavor. I don’t want to take a bite out of the tree of innocence and end up in the pit of ass rape. Not me.

Want to know the sucky thing about being in this band? Being the replacement bassist. I am a lonely bassist. Compare our dynamic to the Beatles, and I’ll be Ringo. I don’t contribute anything that amounts to much. I am a fucking Ringo.

These three boys have had time to really bond. I have bonded with them, too. But there is something between them that I will never attain. They went through the trials and tribulation of being a fresh band together. I jumped in when they were already famous. I am trying to catch up with them. Maybe I should just give up and give in. I feel so old compared to them. They are children compared to me. I may have been the rabbit hole to them. The entrance to a labyrinth of disaster. Before they meet me neither of them has been completely wasted before with a hangover the next day. Ryan never tried a ‘rock star’ drug. Spencer wasn’t knocking down roadie before I met him. I can’t help but feel like the cause for all of this pain. I am not the right role model for them. Then again, these guys would have done this shit without me. They are that foolish.

The car stops. The driver leans out the window. His dark brown hair is exactly like mine. “Just kidding, Jon! Hurry the fuck up.” My older brother always thought he was funny. He is like a wet willie: annoying, not funny, and just a pain in the ass. This is what I get for going to the bathroom at Burger King. I jog to the passenger’s side and slide in. Kyle stares at his watch with fake boredom. “Man, you are slow.”

“Man, you never grew up,” I throw right back at him. I slurp up cherry coke out of my Burger King cup. His hand shoves the cup towards my face. The plastic straw is jammed upwards into the back of my mouth. My body lurches forward. I am gagging and coughing up soda onto the matted carpet.

The car rolls out of the dirt road. “I am sorry, little bro. Was that immature of me? My bad.” He chuckles, “butt nugget,” and turns up the radio. It was the ‘Last Song’ by All American Rejects. I have never realized how long and repetitive this song was.

My head rests against the car window. Chicago. Chi-town. Home of the Cubs. The rest of the car ride is mainly quiet except for the few karaoke moments we have when ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ pop up on the radio. Kyle’s car stops at our parents’ house. I have my own apartment in Chicago. It is just that my mom would slaughter me if I didn’t see her first.

“Be prepared, Jon. Maw has been cooking all day.”

“Oh fuck no.” That means I will have to stay and eat otherwise all her ‘hard work will have been for nothing.’ She would guilt trip the fuck out of me.

***

Another plate of burgers was passed to me. I hold onto my stomach and grunt. “No, I can’t. Please Maw, I am going to implode. You’ll have to scrape my guts off the patio and backside of the house.”

The oven mitts in her hands smack my arm. “Don’t say things like that, Jon.” Her petite frame sits across from me on the picnic bench. A loud grin was on her face. It would be possible to be on the other side of the house and feel that smile. “I am so glad you are on break. I was afraid you weren’t eating well.”

Both Kyle and I gawk at the plates of food. Corns on the cob were stacked and falling off each other. Burgers circled upon each other making a tower. Two bags of chips were opened. Kebabs resembled the plate of corn. A large bowl of baked beans were resting on a hot plate. An empty bottle of Coke was by my feet and a half emptied one by my brother’s elbow. “So you over feed him? The dude is going to become a fatty, Maw.” He picks up an empty kebab stick and jabs my full stomach with it. “He jiggles!” I smack the stick out of his hand.

Our mother pouts. She rests her head on her hands. “You are doing okay, right? The boys are treating you right?” Her eyes bore into mine. I flinch under her motherly gaze.

“Yeah, fine. Everything is fine. Just glad to be in my own bed tonight.” I turn my head to look through the glass sliding door. My cat Dylan was staring at me with impatience. “Oh, thanks for looking after my cat, Maw.”

She nods. “Oh! Did I tell you that little Emily Parker stopped by a few weeks ago looking for you? She has become really beautiful, Jon.” My mother picks up the dirty dishes.

“Yeah,” Kyle agrees, “little Emily Parker has really grown up.” Behind her back my brother nods and cups his hands away from his chest. ‘Big knockers,’ he mouths.

Emily Parker. She used to be my best friend until I switched schools mid-junior year. We were both loners and nerds in school. That girl could list every comic book hero and their creator off the top of her head. Back then if you were to ask me who wrote such and such song I could tell you. But now I can barely remember any of that stuff. I wonder if she is the same. Can she still spit out random facts about Robert Crumb or has she shaped into an un-namely adult like me?

I swirl the coke in my glass. “Mom,” she is waiting at the glass doors, “do you have her number?”

“Better. Her address. She lives on the same side as town as you; betcha didn’t know that?” She takes off with the mountain of dirty dishes.

My brother scoots closer to me. “Are you going to stop by her place? Can I come?”

“Fuck no, Kyle. She hated you then. She isn’t going to want you around her place now. Even if you think she has ‘big knockers’.” He shoves me off the bench. I roll my eyes at his childish humor. And to think this used to crack me up on tour. But when it comes from my dead beat brother it just looks sad and pathetic. Kyle is nothing like our older brother, the shining star, David. The smart fucker is now a doctor. Kyle and I look pretty dim compared to him on the trophy shelf.

My footsteps echo against the hardwood floors. “Here.” My mom had returned with a slip of paper. “Emily left this for you. Bring her a Tupperware filled with food.” She nudges me with an empty plastic container.

“She is fattening everyone, Jon. Watch out. I bet your band mates are at the top of her list to make fat, especially Ryan. Is that kid on a coke diet or something?” Kyle makes loud sniffing noises.

“Watch it, Kyle. You live here for free. Don’t insult Ryan. I like him.” Her face lights up. “Say, I’ll drive you to your apartment. Kyle can stay here and clean.” Her arm hooks mine and drags me first to the backyard to fill the plastic container and then to the driveway.

Her Kia zooms down the lonely roads. “Tell me about the tour a little more. How are the boys?”

“Spencer…” All I can think about of Spencer is his face glowing red and shoving a guy twice his size down stairs. And then he grabbed one of Ryan’s guitars and smashed it against a wall only to walk away in fury. “Spencer has lost it. He flipped out on a roadie. He bought a cabin up in Washington to chill out in, but the rest of us think it’ll have opposite effects. He is going to get ‘cabin fever’ up there and hack people to pieces. At least Ryan thinks that. Spence will become like Jack Nicholson in the Shining.” I run my finger side to side against the window. “Do you think it is contagious? Will I end up like Spence? He used to be so well put together. Before that incident he was the normal one. Now he is just a few screws loose like the rest of us.”

“I think you will be fine, hon. Will you write down Spencer’s new address? I want to send him some baked goods. That will cheer him.” Ever the mom. Sugary sweets fix any problem. One of her hands strokes my cheek. “And son, it is only contagious if you let it happen. I think you are doing fine.”

“You have to say that, but thanks.”

“No problem.” Her car goes past my street. I watch my apartment disappear in the rearview mirror. I open my mouth, but she talks over me. “Her place is only a few blocks away, like ten. You can walk to your place in no time.”

I cock my head to the side. “You are ditching me at her place?” She nods. “You are making me look desperate. I will be on her doorstep with my cat and luggage.”

“Oh don’t worry about that. I’ll take your stuff up to your apartment. I just know that if I don’t do this you’ll never talk to her. I like her. She is a good match for you. You two were so tight in high school.”

I wanted to tell her to mind her own business. To not push me. To not try and set me up. I am single. I just got out of a five year relationship only a few months ago. I want a friend, not a girlfriend.

As soon as I got out of the car my mom was gone. I stood there unable to think. I haven’t seen this girl in years. The numbers calculate through my head in rough math. Eight years. Holy fuck! That is such a long time. She has to be a completely different person. Her apartment building is nice, so that rules out crack head. She and I used to joke that I would end up a poor musician and she’d be a cracked out cartoonist.

My finger stops short of the buzzer. I almost hit number three’s button but have second thoughts. Then the door swings open. A pretty brunette carrying a box with a disco ball in it almost crashes into me. “Oh hey. Sorry there, partner. I can’t fucking see out of these sunglasses.” She shrugs the pitch black Ray-Bans off her round face. The sunglasses fall into her box. The girl looked average and around my age. Her body swiftly moves around me. “Hey, hurry up, B.”

“I’ll be there in like two minutes. I need to find my striped sweater. The black and white one.” In eight years her voice hasn’t changed. “Found it!”

“Sorry if I am in your way, man.” The brunette holds the door open for me.

I scratch the back of my head. “You are fine. I am just looking for someone.” Clambering down the stairs is the person I am looking for. Her fiery red hair is hacked into a short choppy bob. She used to have hair down to her bottom. Her bright blue eyes stare at me through tortoise shell framed glasses. Back in high school she had glasses like the three brothers from Slap Shot. The two purses in her left hand are dropped to the ground with a thud. The silver case in her other hand is carefully placed on the floor.

“JWALK!” Her arms are thrown around my neck. Kisses were planted on the side of my cheek. “You look like a man.” Her body detaches from mine. Black and white oversized striped sweater, frayed shorts, and Doc Martens. She hasn’t really changed much. And Kyle was right. Her breasts have gotten bigger. She was a washboard years ago. “You look so different, man. But good different. Fuck. You are a babe, Jon.”

“You haven’t changed much. You look older, but dignified older. Like fine wine.”

“I like the way you think, Mr. Walker.” She eyes me up and down. Sandals, plain jeans, a band shirt, stubble. At least I dress like I used to in high school. “You came at a bad time; JJ Walker. JurassKick Park and I were on our way to the club to set up tonight. We are DJing at this club. Oh my fucking baby Jesus! YOU SHOULD GO!” She shakes me by the shoulders. “He would like it, right Park?”

The other girl tilts her head to the side. “He looks like a stern, Bugsy Merlo. And he is a cutie.” Park tilts her head to the other side. “He is going to be harassed.”

Bugsy Merlo. JurassKick Park. I am guessing these are their DJ names.

“Don’t listen to Park. You will enjoy it.” She bends over and withdraws a business card from a purse. It is tucked into my front pocket. “At least come by to listen to us spin. Park is new at it, but I am a pro.” She winks. “I am going to rewrite an entirely new playlist with all your favs, just for you. So be there.” She kisses my cheek.

I kiss her cheek. “I’ll think about it. Here.” I shove the Tupperware dish into her arms. “Courtesy of my mom.”

Her face lights up. “Your mom rocks. I fucking love her. Park and I were just talking about how hungry we are.” Park takes the dish and places it in her box. “Well, it was good seeing you, Walk.” She leans over and grabs the two purses and the silver case filled with records.

The two girls climb into a Gremlin. The disco ball takes up the entire back window. I pull out the business card and gape at the club’s name. Man Hole was in big bold green letters. This is not a normal bar. What am I getting myself into?