Revenge Of A Band Geek Gone Bad (19 page)

###

Josh suggested we leave the car at the train station and take the Long Island Railroad in so we wouldn't have to worry about parking in the city.  As he drove there, I stared out the window and watched the rows of white and gray houses fly by.  A few still had their Christmas lights on even though it was daylight, but the colors were muted against the bare trees.  I wondered who lived in those homes and what they were doing at that very moment.  Were they glad it was the holidays?  Were they happy?

As if he could read my thoughts, Josh nodded at one of the homes.  "You ever
get tired of living here?" 
he
asked.

I turned back to face him.  "All the time," I admitted.  "There isn't a whole lot to do in Sequoia.  My plan is to go to college in the city and then live there."

He nodded.  "I know what you mean."  He laughed bitterly.  "I find it funny that this town is called 'Sequoia.'  Those are big, imposing trees and they're out West.  I've seen them; they're beautiful.  This town is definitely not beautiful, no matter what its name is."

I was taken aback by Josh's tone.  He usually didn't sound so morose.  "I guess you're moving away, too?"  I asked.  I prayed that it wasn't far.  I didn't know if I could handle it if he went all the way to California.

"Yeah, I'm definitely getting out of here," he said.  "I need to go somewhere where they appreciate people like me, like
us
.  I figure that once I'm done with school, I'll grab my trumpet and join a band somewhere.  Or maybe even start one of my own.  That's my dream," he said quietly.

"Wait, so you're not going to college?"  I found it hard to believe that someone as smart as Josh wouldn't want to.  Plus, I'd always been told by my folks that I
have
to go.

He shrugged. 
"Probably not.
  Really, I can't see myself spending at least four more years dealing with teachers and administrators.  I think you know me well enough by now to know that I don't do so well with that.  Hell, I'd rather hang on a street corner playing trumpet for tips, I think."

"But how will you make money?"

He smiled.  "Well, if we're both in the city, you can give me a nice tip.  Or," he added, "I can crash at your dorm."

I laughed. 
"Anytime."

###

We soon boarded the train and were on our way to the city.  As we squeezed into the seat together, I relished being so close to Josh.  Whenever his leg or arm brushed against me, I could feel the heat from his body ... which just about made my heart jump out of my chest.  I thought about Lana's advice and moved in a little closer to him.  He didn't object; in fact, he casually slid his arm across the back of the seat so that it draped over my shoulders.  I rested my head against his neck.

"So, now that we're actually headed into the city, do I get to hear what we're doing?"  I asked him.

Josh grinned and shook his head.  "No."

"Not even a hint?"  I pressed.

He laughed. 
"Nope."

"Fine, I'll make you talk then," I warned, tickling him.  Immediately he was in hysterics.

No, d-don't, Melinda!" he protested, amidst giggles. "Okay! I surrender.  First, I thought we'd take in a show."

"In the morning?"

"Well, it's a
special
show.  After that, we're going to a special kind of workshop."

"Where?"
  I pressed. 
"At NYU or something?"

"No.  It's a place called The Underground."

I nodded.  "Is that like the bar you took me to?"

"Sort of.
  Do you approve?"

"I guess."  His plans still sounded strange.  Rather than dwell on it, I gave him his gift.  I suddenly felt very nervous as I handed it to him.

He looked genuinely surprised as he opened it.  "Wow.  You didn't have to get me anything, Mel."  He held up the little soldier.  "This is so cool.  Thanks."

"You really like it?"

"Yeah, it's great."  He leaned in to hug me.  "I got you something, too."

Now it was my turn to be shocked -- and grateful that Lana made me buy him something.  I watched as he fumbled around his pocket for a moment.

"Here," he said, handing me a small box that was wrapped with a purple bow.  "I was going to give this to you later today, but, well...
here
."

I opened it and my breath caught in my throat.  Inside was a little gold music note charm that hung from a gold chain.

"Oh
my gosh
."  My eyes filled with tears.  "It's beautiful."

"My mom picked it out," he admitted.  "I wanted to get you something but I knew I needed the help.  Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, she did a good job," I said, as he fastened it around my neck.  Maybe Lana was right, I thought, as we headed into the city.  Maybe Josh did like me.  Still, as far as I was concerned, this was turning out to be the best day of my life.

###

We reached Penn Station about an hour later.  As we got off the train, Josh grabbed my hand and led me through the throngs of people.  Since it was the holiday, the station was even more crowded than usual and we had to fight through the thousands of tourists just to take a step forward.  Like in the mall, the air crackled with energy.  I wasn't paying too much attention to everyone around me, though; I was busy concentrating on the feel of Josh's hand in mine.  I reached up to touch his necklace and smiled to myself.

Once we made our way across the station, Josh took us to the subway and from
there,
we traveled to the Times Square station at 42
nd
Street.  When we arrived, Josh stood on the platform for a moment and looked around excitedly.  "We're here," he announced.

"Where?
  Here?"

"Yep," he said, spreading his arms.  "This is our concert hall."

I spun
around,
trying to understand what he was talking about, but all I saw was a dirty station with cracks in the walls.  Water dripped from the ceiling and the area was damp and cold, like a cave.  I even saw a rat scurry by on the subway tracks.  "Josh, no offense, but this is gross.”

He laughed.  "Well, yeah.  This part kind of is, but if you know where to look, you can get better entertainment here than at Carnegie Hall.  Come on, I'll show you."

He took my hand again and led me upstairs.  I wasn't sure what he had up his sleeve, but I enjoyed holding onto him. 

We walked toward the center of the station, where there was a large concourse between the different subway lines.  There were still some cracks and leaks in the walls, but the air was warmer and less musty.  In one corner sat a young dark-haired man playing the strangest instrument I'd ever seen.  It was long and thin and looked like an old-fashioned trumpet, the kind kings' henchmen would've
played,
only it was made of wood.  It

produced
an odd guttural sound.

"What is that?" I whispered.

"It's a didgeridoo," said Josh.  "It's from Australia."

"It's cool."  We stood for a few minutes listening to the guy perform.  A crowd gathered around him.

The musician finally noticed Josh and stopped playing.  He held out his hand and smiled.  "Hey, Kowalski, man, how are you?"

"Great."  He nodded toward me.  "Melinda, this is Don Lawson.  Don's a student at Juilliard.  His main instrument is clarinet, but he learned to play this overseas."

"Oh."  I didn't know what to say.  It never occurred to me that someone from Juilliard, the school I was dying to attend, would end up performing in a subway station.  I guess Don could tell I was a little concerned because he said, "Don't worry, honey, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not some starving musician.  Well actually, I kind of am," he amended, "but I'm here strictly on business.  The music schools and the transit authority have a program where they invite entertainers to audition, and if they pick you, you can play in certain stations."

"Really?"
  I didn't realize that the people who played in the subway were actually sought after.

"Yes.  I'm pretty lucky to get a gig in this station since it gets so many people.  And you know what?  I make more money here than I do at clubs."

"Huh."  I'd thought I was familiar with the city from all the times I'd gone with my parents, but Josh was definitely showing me a new side of it.

###

Josh continued to take me on a tour of the 42
nd
Street station, introducing me to his friends.  He seemed to know almost every performer down there from the group of gospel singers to the Latin dancer whose partner was a stuffed doll.  Everyone we ran into, though, had talent; enough so that if they caught the right person's eye, they'd probably all be stars.  Josh was right; this was as good as any staged production I'd seen.

After a while, Josh peered at my watch. It was 10 o'clock.

"Oh, good, it's time for the morning rush," he said.

"So?"  I didn't really want to leave.  I was beginning to really like the Times Square station.

"We have to go back to the subway."  He grabbed my hand again and took me
downstairs.  We were off to another adventure.

###

We ended up on a train that was heading downtown.  Since it was so crowded, we stood in the middle of the car and clung to one of the poles.  At the next stop, a trio of men stepped into our car and made their way to the center.  Two played a Latin-sounding tune on guitar and trumpet while the third guy sang.  His voice was loud enough so that it rang out above the rumble of the subway.

"Think I could do that?"  Josh said, nodding at the man who played the trumpet.  "I've always wondered what it would be like to play in a mariachi band."

"I'm sure you could," I replied.  So far, Josh seemed to be able to play any type of music that was thrown at him.

"Well, I want to try."  He unlocked his trumpet case.

"What?"  I'd thought that Josh was just
thinking
about playing that type of music.  I didn't realize he was going to do it right there in the middle of the subway.  I should've known, I guess.  He was
Josh
. 
Him
suddenly deciding that he wanted to do something and jumping right into it was just another ordinary day for him.  Still, the last thing I wanted was for him to get beat up on the subway.

"Josh, you can't," I said.  "I don't think they'll like you interrupting them."

He shrugged, waving away my concerns.  "It won't hurt to ask, right?  All they can say is no."  He grabbed his trumpet and marched right over to the mariachis, pointing at his instrument and then theirs.  "You guys are great," he said, putting a dollar in the singer's tip cup.  "Would you mind if I tried one song with you?"

The men lowered their instruments and surveyed the teenager who'd approached them.  Josh stared back, his jaw set and confident.  The singer raised an eyebrow. 
"You any good?"
 
he
asked, indicating Josh's trumpet.

Josh responded by raising his trumpet to his lips and playing back the first few bars of tune they'd just finished. 
Perfectly.
  The performers nodded at each other, obviously impressed.

"Not bad," said the singer.  He motioned for Josh to join them.  "You know Christmas music?  You know '
Feliz
Navidad
?' "

"Of course," Josh said.

The four of them then took off on the melody.  During the first verse, Josh
played it straight, but then added all sorts of flourishes.  The other trumpet joined in with his variations, chasing him in a musical drag race.  Yet they all managed to end on the same note.  The subway riders applauded and raced to dump coins in the singer's cup.

"You've got skills," the trumpet player told Josh, smiling.  "How old are you?"

"16."

"Really?
  You're only 16?"

"Yep," Josh said proudly.

The trumpeter playfully punched him and laughed.  "Well, you're
gonna
put me out of work!"

"Nah, I don't think so," Josh replied.  "You're damn good yourself.  But since you liked playing with me, do you mind if I have another person join us?"  He met my eyes and slow grin spread across his lips.  I immediately knew what he wanted and sighed.

"Oh come on," I said, but this time I didn't really protest.  I made my way over to them and put my flute together.  "I don't know how much a flute belongs in a mariachi band," I said.

The singer shrugged.  "That's okay.  If your boyfriend wants you to play, you must be good, too, right?"

At the mention of Josh being called my "boyfriend," I felt a rush of heat creep up my face.  I quickly glanced at Josh to see how he reacted to it, but his expression was neutral.

"So let's begin," the singer announced, interrupting my thoughts. 
" 'Jingle
Bells,' everyone!"