Lukey Kid

“We have three cats - Urge, Crap, and Fart - and a dog named Lucky, and seven goldfish, and-”

“You mean you have a zoo?”

I laughed nervously, my heart pounding as it flushed blood to all parts of my body. I…I couldn’t believe it. My life was a complete fantasy.

Aaron paused to shove a roll in his freckled cheeks.

“So lemme get this straight, man - Aaron’s your brother…who you were separated from when you were seven years old?” Brendan interrogated.

We - the Ragan brothers (man, I get giddy just saying it) - nodded simultaneously.

“You guys don’t look anything alike,” Joey shrugged. Aaron and I exchanged puzzled looks.

“Well…the hair…both of them have it big and curly,” Soria pointed out.

They looked at us for a minute and then nodded with a few “Yeah’s.”

What a day that turned out to be, but I guess with all the surprises that snuck up on me in my life, it was no big deal. So many things popped up in the last few years that it didn’t bother me anymore.

Still! I was sitting next to my brother! My nine-year-old brother, who, might I add, was under the same roof as Plaster Caster’s boss! Oh man! I still get goosebumps thinking about it.

Rai, who sat at the edge of the table, stood up and clinked his spoon against a wine glass. “We’re here tonight to welcome a potential member of the Not Listening Records family,” he began.

“Wait, I thought they were already signed!” the singer of Violence Ladies – Brianna - said.

“They haven’t signed the contract yet,” Rai explained.

A rude noise broke the air. Eyes pointed to the opposite end of the table where Olli and his band were gagging and a bunch of grungy-looking guys were applauding. One guy who had a reddish beard and a golf cap had his leg lifted, so I inferred he was the one who had farted.

“Justin, you are so gross!” Brianna wailed. Olli waved his arms in the air.

“Hey! How do you think I feel?!” he cried.

Rai was quick to restore order. “Guys! It’s one little toot! Calm down!”

More laughter ensued. It took about thirty seconds for the noise to die down. Then, he continued to speak.

“As I was saying,” he groaned, glaring at Olli and the guy who farted, “Plaster Caster is here tonight. We’re hoping to have them sign on because they’re an amazing band that deserves the best. And I mean hey, we are the best, right?”

Olli shouted, “Fuh shizzle!”

A silence fell, and Rai looked aggravated. The Fart Guy - I learned his name was Justin - took the opportunity to speak. “Hey, you guys mind if we cover ‘Slopeside’ at our next show?” he said, pointing to his band Fire Motion.

We couldn’t help but smile, nodding in unison. Joey spoke up, saying, “Sure.”

Then the quiet restored itself. “Okay then,” Rai said, standing back up. “Can I please continue?”

The troublemakers at the opposite end nodded.

“Alright. See, it’s rare that musicians these kids’ ages have this much talent. The youngest band that signed on Not Listening was The Max, and they were only just out of high school. But Plaster Caster’s, like, fourteen, fifteen? That’s young. That’s awesome. They need tutors ‘cause they’re still in school. But they’ve sold thousands of demos regardless of their age, and seeing them play live is a sight to behold - cough, cough, Cooltube, cough. It is in no way a gimmick. What we have here isn’t just a bunch of kids - we’re in the presence of four uniquely talented musicians that aren’t getting enough recognition.”

Joey added, “And their manager.”

“Right. And their manager.”

Olli began to clap wildly, setting off a crazy applause filled with hoots and cheers. One guy from The Max had broken out his trumpet and started playing.

Aaron looked up at me with shining eyes.

“You’re awesome.”

- - -

After an hour or so, most of the bands went back to their hotels or wherever they had come from. I took this as an opportunity to use the bathroom. However, I got lost in the house, like, twice. I wasn’t the best at finding my way around big spaces.

Once I relieved myself, I ventured back to the main room so I could meet up with my bandmates and we could go back to our sweet suite.

But just my luck - I got lost.

I found Aaron hunched over the counter, over a textbook that looked like it was giving him a hard time. He ran a pencil through his hair and sighed.

I tapped his shoulder and he perked up, beaming. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey,” he said back, tired.

“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the book. He moved his arms and sneered.

“Multi-step equations. A pain in my butt. I keep getting weird fractions.”

I took the paper he was working on and observed the problems. “You follow the order of operations, see? Parentheses, then exponents. Then you multiply or divide, then add or subtract. Just remember it as PEMDAS for short,” I explained.

Aaron brightened. “Oh! So, for this one, I do (8 +6) before I do the little 2?”

I nodded. “Yep. Just remember: PEMDAS.”

“Thanks.”

I patted his shoulder. “G’night, bro. See ya.”