Chapter 30: Music Of The Night

Music of the Night


“If you could have one thing right now, what would it be?” I asked Tom as we sat outside in the night. The evening was mostly mosquito free, and just warm enough to be comfortable. It was late, too, but we had my guitar outside and were passing it to each other. His laptop lit up the small patio table. We kept pulling up lyrics and tablature to play.
“I don’t know. I’d love to have Haley with us right now though.”
“That’s your sister, right?” I asked him. He had thrown so many different names at me lately, I was having trouble keeping them straight.
“No, that’s my ‘sex toy.’ Well, you call her that.”
“Oh, that girl I spoke to the other night when you were curled up on the floor laughing your ass off at me.”
“Yeah, that one. She’s really fun. Confusing, but when you catch her in a good mood, she’s a great girl.”
“I’d love…no, wait, never mind. I was about to say I wished Roger could be here, because it is a beautiful night, but I have a feeling he wants to dismember you. You’re a good person, I wouldn’t want you to die.”
“That’s comforting.” He snorted, and handed the guitar to me to mess around on. “You know, all I’ve heard about your boyfriend, he seems like an ass hole.”
“He can be. But that doesn’t mean I love him any less, you know? Kind of like Haley has her bad days. Roger just gets very possessive. He’s very respectful of women and I know he wouldn’t lay a hand on any female; but males are a different story. You’d have to tread very lightly around him. You looked at me wrong, and he’d probably be breathing down your neck.”
“Again, seems like an ass hole to me.”
“I know. Kaley said several times that if Colin every did that, she would kill him on sight. But I think its adorable. And its understandable, in a way. We aren’t in constant contact with each other.”
“You’re not exactly the most flirty girly girl I’ve ever met, if you know what I mean.” Tom said, touching one of the bruises on his arm. We had several slightly violent games we played to pass the time. And we had sparred a few days ago. I was bruised more than he was, but I had held my own.
“That’s what I try to tell Roger. The first two things guys know about me is that I have a boyfriend and I can kick their ass if they hit on me.”
“Except mine.” He added.
“I’m not aggressive, and we were only sparring, not fighting for our lives. Plus, my ass didn’t touch the ground once.”
I handed the guitar back to him. He took it and fingered out a chord progression, and I watched with interest. One of my less defensive qualities: I was a sucker for music. Real music, not that modern music shit. I loved watching people play, and I loved to play along with other musicians who knew what they were doing.
“You have good feet work, I’ll give you that. Hey, do you know this song? My dad used to sing it to me when I was little.” He strummed a chord, and then picked out the melody. I never used a pick, but he always had one handy.
“Not a clue. Is it some English folk song?” I asked him. It was a ‘happy’ melody, in a major key, but it almost seemed to be pentatonic. I’ll leave the music terms out for those readers who are musically illiterate.
“I don’t know. It’s a really pretty song. If I could sing, I would sing it for you.”
“Uh huh. You’re just afraid to sing.”
“No, I have no pitch. I can tune guitars fine, but when it comes to singing, my voice sounds like hell. Haven’t you noticed I haven’t sang with any of the songs that we’ve heard?”
“Not really.” I had noticed. I just figured he was shy. “Oh well. I won’t make you sing.”
“You didn’t answer that question.” He said, picking out a different melody on the guitar.
“What question?”
“If you could have one thing or person right now, what would it be?”
I thought about it for a second. If I couldn’t have Roger here, I’d much rather be there.
“If I could have anything, it would be a plan to go down to Roger and scare the living daylights out of him, then come back up here without my parents finding out. He’d kill me, but the expression on his face would be wonderful.”
“Until you find out he’s an old, fat man with no hair.” Tom laughed. I shook my head.
“He doesn’t have an old man voice. Voices change through the years, you know? He has a very deep and vibrant voice, not an old man’s voice.”
“He disguises it just for you. So he can have dirty old man thoughts.” Tom snickered. I reached over and punched his arm.
“You want to go?” He asked me, setting the guitar on the table.
“Ugh. Not right now.” I said. “I’m too tired for any of that shit.” I reached over and grabbed the guitar before he could reclaim it. I picked out a melody of my own, a screwed up version of “Danny Boy”/”Londonberry Air”. It was a very cool song, all about a girl dying while waiting to see her love again. Very appropriate.
“You getting cold?” I asked him after a few minutes. He shrugged in response.
“Its always warmer around here than it is back home. You want to go in and watch some Buffy?”
“Nah, but I am going inside. I think I’m going to go to bed. Tomorrow, want to have a second marathon?”
“The entire season?” He asked me, his eyes brightening in the dark.
“Might as well. Unless there’s something else you want to do?” I asked him.
“No, I’m good with Buffy.” He said. We got up and walked inside, me with my guitar, him with his laptop. I was tired and getting depressed thinking about Roger, so I did the best thing I could: Went to bed.