Sign Language

The thing about playing bass was he didn’t have to hear it in order to know he was playing. Just the thrum of the notes vibrating his body from head to toe was enough. He knew the notes, he knew the chords and patterns and how to play them properly. He knew his cues, usually, but sometimes his brother had to turn off his amp, stop the thrumming of the bass, in order to get his attention. To sign to him that practice was over, or asking if he wanted a drink because they were taking a break. Usually after playing, all the guys would go upstairs, order pizza, watch a movie, but with subtitles, just for him. Or sometimes they wouldn’t, letting him guess or make up what was going on. Afterwards, the guys would ask him what background music was playing in what scene, to see what his ideas were.

Mikey Way’d been deaf since he was seven. Gerard had always taken care of him. Now, Mikey rented a tiny split house with Frank and Ray while Gerard was off in New York, but now it was summer, so Gerard was home and they were in a band. Summer was Mikey’s favorite season.

Tonight, though, Gerard was at a party with Frank and Ray was spending the night with his girlfriend and Mikeyway was home alone and completely bored.

So he went to the basement, where his bass and amp were. He put the volume somewhere close to MAX and plugged in. The blood in his veins hummed, his heart pounding to the steady beat his fingers gave off as they pressed into the four strings.

At one point, he used his toes to turn the amp all the way up to the max volume, forgetting that they had neighbors on the other side of the walls, that they might’ve been enjoying their evening, that he might be playing loud enough for the street to hear.

But that was okay, because he could feel the notes in his core, instead of hearing them through his ears. He could forget for a while. Forget that in August, Gerard would be leaving and he’d be back in school, senior year, and Frank would be a junior and Ray would be starting in-state college. He could forget the oncoming storm, forget that he’d have to take care of his hungover brother and friends in the morning.

He waited by the door in the morning, watching as first Ray walked in, then Frank dragging Gerard. They all looked exhausted.

A few hours later, around noon, apparently someone was at the door, because Gerard flew upstairs from the basement to get it and Mikey followed, curious.

Two people stood there, both dark-haired, the girl shorter and paler than the guy, who was tan enough to probably be Hispanic in origin.

The girl was talking to Gerard, who had a vague smile on his face as he listened, then turned to Mikey with a raised eyebrow.

Neighbors, he signed, and Mikey bit his lip. Said they could hear someone playing bass last night.

Mikey shifted uncomfortably, then signed, I was bored.

You were playing loud.

The younger Way shot his brother an icy glare and crossed his arms, refusing to reply and letting Gerard figure out for himself what he had said.

The eldest Way crossed his arms momentarily, then signed, What?

How was I supposed to know it was loud?

Gerard’s mouth curved into an ‘o,’ and then his skin flushed, and he started moving his mouth, and Mikey thought, ‘Didn’t he grow up with me?’ because Gerard should’ve known better. Gerard was never like this, flustered and unsure and making mistakes. Gerard was always careful.

What he could read of lips, his older brother was saying something along the lines of, “I’m sorry, wow, that was stupid-”

Mikey watched his brother look to the door, where the girl was asking something, and he motioned her inside. She smiled at him, then signed, V-I-C-K-Y.

Smiling slightly, Mikey signed back, M-I-K-E-Y. He looked at Gerard and tapped his fist to his skull twice- asshole.

His brother shoved him, rolling his eyes but smiling.

Then Vicky pulled in the guy, and Mikey stopped to study him.

Neon pink pants, green shirt, purple jacket, flatbill. His Nikes were stretched out and wide, the way people seemed to think was cool. But his hands were stuffed in his pockets and he was shifting his weight and glancing around, not looking at anyone. Vicky elbowed him and said something.

He looked at Mikey, then signed- which surprised the youngest Way, that both his neighbors knew sign language- G-A-B-E. Then, he added, Mute for now. You?

Mikey pointed at his ears, which was enough. They stood and studied each other for a bit longer, curious. Mikey didn’t know how long he’d been living here, yet all this time...

What do you mean, mute for now?

Surgery.

Gabe started shifting again, nudging Vicky until she told Gerard it was nice meeting us and she had to go.

Mikey sighed, and the noise must’ve been fairly loud, because Gerard looked at him and gave him a once over. Then he grinned. So.

So? Mikey mimicked, immediately guarded.

They’re pretty cool, don’t you think?

I guess.

Gerard shook his head, snorted, and retreated back into the basement.