Thinking Back to Those Days

With the colder air, Friday blew my way quickly. Even though Pinole was very much a sad excuse for a school, as Billie and Mike had said, it was going to have to do until graduation. I kept my head up knowing that I had made to friends and that it would not be hard to keep up my grades while getting an education at this school.

All day I didn’t see Billie or Mike, for we had different classes from each other, every other day. I didn’t see them at lunch either, because they told me that it was a Friday tradition to go to Billie Joe’s mother’s workplace to get free food.

But as soon as the last bell rang, I rushed to the courtyard, tired of school and ready to spend time with my new friends.

I discovered that Billie and Mike weren’t there yet, so I sat on the bench were Billie Joe had given me the joint two days ago. It was long gone by now, and I wondered if he had more.

While waiting I let my mind wander to simple little thoughts. I had survived a whole week in California, and a whole three days at this school. I had not been harassed, bothered or anything of the sort. California was not as hot as I thought it was going to be, the weather was cool, because of the season and the costal winds. I had made two new, great, friends, when I wasn’t expecting to make any at all. I missed my dad, and I wish he could be with me here. I wish he could see California, take me out to fly over the water. I would even tell him about Billie Joe, and how he made my stomach turn in that fantastic way, that is if he were here.

While thinking, I heard laughing and talking that I recognized, and it was my friends, and we headed out of the school.

“Let’s take off Paloma! We are really excited to have an audience to hear the stuff that we have put together, even if it is just you.” Mike said opening the door that lead to the parking lot. We walked through the breeze, it lifting both Billie and Mike’s long hair off there shoulders. Mike carried my books, and Billie Joe, my backpack. I stayed quiet most of the walk to Billie’s thinking about how grateful I was to know such clever and funny guys, and how at back at my house, my mother was probably pulling her hairs out, because I had ditched all my responsibilities.

But I was only 17. What was I supposed to do?

***
We arrived in front of a house painted pale blue, with white border. A small, ancient car was parked outside the garage. Billie lifted the door to the garage and revealed some amps, and a guitar and bass.

“Welcome, Ms. Paloma to the rehearsal space of Sweet Children...” said Billie Joe in a mock chic voice. I laughed and said, “Sweet Children? You aren’t very sweet selling weed to lowerclassmen.”

“Exactly! She gets it Mike. She actually gets it!” he said, jumping u pin down in front of Mike, like a little kid.

We laughed, and Billie Joe pulled out a crate and offered it as a seat. I sat down and watched the musicians strap on their old guitars.

They chatted for a bit, talked of tuning, and amp loudness, and the tempo at which they were going to play. Then Billie Joe looked at me, and said, “This sweet Paloma is our first complete song, and you are the first to hear it my friend.”

In came the guitars, loud and heavy. I couldn’t deny that both of them were good players, but they didn’t fit the part of what they were playing. Billie Joe’s voice was melodic, but only to an extent, you could hear a snide snarl sometimes, that fit perfect with his personality, or what I made it out to be, after knowing him for two days. Mike’s bass lines were amazingly good, him seeming like a virtuoso at his instrument.

When it was over, they beseeched me for the complete truth, and that is what they got. I told them, that whether they like it or not, they were not Judas Priest but something way better. I also told them that I would bring over some vinyl records the next day and show them so examples of something that matched what they already had in place, Billie Joe’s talented hands, and voice, and Mike’s thrumming bass.

I gladly was not kicked out for my comments, but embraced and even jokingly got title of manger. Pizza was ordered and we knocked back a few beers that Billie Joe found in the fridge.

It was 11:00 by the time we had ran out of food, drinks, and conversation, and had completely smoked out Billie’s bedroom. We had all been lying on the floor when I looked at my watch and exclaimed “SHIT!” when I noticed the time.

I had startled both the boys on the floor, and they sat up and asked what was wrong.

“Nothing, I just, I told my mom I was hanging out with you guys after school. She is going to be freaking out!” I said, grabbing my bag and books. “I have to get home, thanks for having me here, I had a great time.”

“You can’t walk home alone its late, let me go with you. Mike can you stay here, and keep down the fort, in case mom comes home early?” said Billie standing up, putting on his baseball cap, backwards, as always. Mike agreed and got on the bed, looking like he wanted to lay back down.

He opened the door to his bedroom and we walked out, after Mike had given me a hug.

Outside, we could hear the tiny noises of night. Billie Joe walked really close to me, and I didn’t say a thing. There was this warm comfortable silence and then he spoke up.

“Thanks for coming today, I had a blast. I love Mike you know, he is my brother, but it’s nice to have someone new around. You know I have never been friends with a girl like you?”

We stopped for a passing car, and I looked at him.

“A girl like me?” I gave him a look, and my stomach sank a tad. But suddenly my spirits were lifted when he said:

“It’s not a bad thing Paloma. It’s just… Look around Pinole. There isn’t a single soul like you. You care about the world, about music, about important things. I noticed that when we were just talking, about everything back at my room. Your cosmopolitan, not suburbanized, you know? You’re cool, and different, and I am glad I met you, I am glad you are here.”
He looked up to the sky. It was dark, but no stars were showing because of the lights of the city. But I was standing in front of someone brighter than those stupid suburban lights that he had been trapped in by since birth.

We continued walking and I told him I was glad that I had met him too. In front of my house, I hugged him, and he held on for a little longer than friends normally do.

He walked away, and I waited on the porch. He walked away, and before he disappeared, he gave a slight wave and a smile. I blew a kiss when he was out of sight.