Rhythm in Blue (5 page)

The glassy sea slowly calmed him. He could see the rock and sand covered seabed as clearly as though looking at it through a window. A small school of fish darted around a rock as though of one mind. He watched as they flitted first up, then down and behind the rock, and back again, a drill perhaps, to prepare them for some future predator. A patch of seaweed growing from below the rock swayed as the fish swam past, but the water’s surface never betrayed the activity below.

Rick lay back on the sidewalk without the small benefit of the towel. He thought of the fish swimming, the seaweed swaying, and he imagined Shelby dancing – her hair floating in the air, all moving to an inaudible yet ever-present rhythm that was the island. Soon, he slept.

~

It was early at the Islander. They were still playing last year’s disco beats. Rick chose to sit in a far corner of the club, his mood still subdued from Judy’s comment earlier in the day. He leaned back into the cushioned, bench style seat and put his feet up on one of the short stools. Devon, Randy, and Keith had all gone to the movies. Erin was right, Ben Hur was showing, but Rick had no interest in seeing it.

The DJ had the same repertoire night after night. Around nine o’clock, he started up with the disco, at ten, the sound changed to more contemporary rock and roll fare mixed with classics, around midnight, he transitioned to Reggae and Ska, and as the night wound down, he played all classics. They went out several nights to other discothèques and bars, and while they were flashier and busier, he found them disingenuous, unwelcoming. Rick remembered how he told Erin the place had a homey feel to it that first night, tongue in cheek, but as it turned out, the Islander did feel homey to him.

Tonight, the club was busy. That was the other reason he chose to sit where he did. He didn’t want Erin to feel guilty about having no time to visit with him. She and Kostas flew around behind the bar, trying to keep up. The two waiters were just as busy on the floor, but Rick’s back corner was calm and he felt outside the chaos.

He thought he was inconspicuous, but when Shelby walked through the doors, she spotted him right away. After a quick ‘hello’ to Erin as she passed the bar, she headed toward him. She took a seat next to him on the bench and put her feet beside his on the stool and asked, “What are we doing?”

“
We
,” he said, “are just watching the world go by.”

“Sounds like fun. Do you mind company or would you rather watch alone?”

“You’re welcome to keep me company, but won’t the boys be waiting for you?”

She thought about it. “Let them wait, I’d rather talk to you.”

He smiled and asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure, I’d take a beer.” She gave him a sideways glance to see what his reaction would be.

“Nico!” Rick called out and waved at the waiter. “Can you bring two beers?” Nico flashed a perceptive smile and nodded.

“I suppose you want a cigarette too…” he held out his pack. She did a quick check to see if anyone could see her from the bar, and took one. He flicked his lighter for her, making sure she could move to the flame and stay out of sight. He could tell she liked it when he treated her like an adult, and he recalled how at fifteen, when he had taken off on his own, he didn’t like it when people treated him like a kid. He figured Shelby had more maturity than he did at her age.

Nico brought the beers and Rick handed him a hundred drachma. Nico began to argue the payment, but Rick made him take it. “Just don’t tell him I paid.” He was sure Kostas didn’t realize just how much they could drink in five weeks.

“Do you always wear that necklace?” Shelby asked, pointing to the shell necklace around his neck.

“Yeah, I guess. For about ten years now.”

She nodded and added, “I like those, they’re cool. I should get one.”

“They seem to be pretty popular right now.”

Almost twice as many people as usual danced, and he and Shelby sat back and watched.

 “So Rick, exactly how long are you here for?”

“A little over a month,” he said. “At first I thought it would be too long, but now I’m starting to worry it won’t be long enough.”

“You can always come back.”

“It’s really hard to get away, things are planned out a long way in advance, and your schedule fills up quick. You just don’t even want to look too far ahead.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, “it must be exhausting.”

“It can be.”

Her hair fell into her face, and again, he fought the urge to brush it away.

Deciding it was his turn to move the conversation, and being very curious about her, he asked, “How long have you been sneaking out at night?”

“I did it a couple of times last summer, but I guess this summer I’ve been doing it a lot. I just get so bored at home, and I hate going to bed early.”

Rick laughed. “I guess you sound like a typical teenager.” The comment made her blush, so he continued on, pretending not to notice. “How do you do it? I mean, do you walk out the front door or what?”

Giggling, she said, “I wish it was that simple. No, I have to sneak into my dad’s studio, then climb out the window onto our neighbor’s roof. They have steps that end at their front door, so sometimes it’s a little tricky. Timing is important.” She looked very serious, and it made him laugh. “I mean it! They stay up late, and they’re always in and out the door.”

“I believe you. I’m sure you have to be very careful,” he said. “Do you always come here when you sneak out?”

“Usually, but sometimes I ride with friends to other towns on the island, just for a change.”

“Do your friends have cars?”

“No, but most of them have motorcycles.”

He was beginning to get a picture of her as a wild adventurer, but the images of her racing down the island’s narrow roads on the back of a motorcycle in the middle of the night was unnerving. He knew by
friends
, she meant boys.

“Well,” he said, stubbing out his cigarette, “I hope you’re careful. Motorcycles can be very dangerous.” The sound in his head of the warning made him feel a little stupid.

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “I only ride with people I trust.”

Rick was starting to worry that even at twenty-four, he sounded like a meddling adult, so he changed the subject. “So what do you do for school?” As soon as the question was out of his mouth, he realized he’d done nothing but strengthen that role for himself. She didn’t seem bothered by it, and explained that she had been home schooled for a while, but that eventually her parents enrolled her in the Greek school when they discovered that she had fallen behind her peers.

“What do you want to do when you finish high school? College, or are you going to find a nice Greek boy and settle down?” He looked around, noting that several of her boyfriends around the club watched them, and he hoped the joke would make him seem like less of an authority figure.

“Well, promise you won’t laugh?” She took her feet off the stool and sat up straight, pushing her fists into the bench on either side.

“Of course I won’t.”

“Well – and I’m not just saying this because I’m talking to you,” she was blushing terribly, fidgeting, and struggling to spit it out. “I want to be a song writer.”

Rick wasn’t sure how to respond. People always wanted him to listen to their demo tapes, wanted a leg up in the business. He and the guys couldn’t escape the constant invasion. It was normally a familiar routine, but this was anything but normal. He thought for a moment, nodded, lit another cigarette, and asked, “Do you play music?”

She still blushed, but seemed relieved to have said it aloud. She took the cigarette he offered and leaned back into the bench again. “Well, no, not really.” She continued nervously, “I hear the songs in my head, and I write down the lyrics…but that’s all I can do.”

He considered what she said for a moment. “Well, you’ll have to sing me something sometime.”

“Oh no,” she shook her head, “I have a terrible voice. I mean, I can keep a tune, but I sound like I should be singing opera, or country, or something, not rock.”

He laughed as she took a drink of her beer. “In that case you’re gonna have to learn to play…
something
.”

“I suppose I will,” she said, nodding. “How did you get started? You were really young, weren’t you?”

He met his band mates not long after he ran away from home, wandering into a dimly lit bar one night to escape the freezing rain. Although he looked like a drowned rat, no one paid much attention to the scrawny, wet teenager. The memory made him shiver, even in the warmth of the club.

“Yeah, I was your age when I saw those guys playing one night. They had this incredibly soulful, rock and roll sound, and the way they fed off each other, each one pushing the other to a higher level – it blew my mind.” He scooted to the edge of his seat. “While they were playing, I watched the audience’s excitement grow, and by the end of the show, that excitement peaked at such a high level… They were so cool, and I knew, that’s what I wanted. I wanted to be a part of it, so I waited until they were on a break and introduced myself and asked if I could play with them.”

“Ha! What did they think of that?”

“Well, Devon thought it was pretty funny. He didn’t even ask if I could play or anything, he just told me they couldn’t afford another member.”

“Could you play?” Shelby asked as she drank the last of her beer.

“Not much, at least, not like they did. Anyway, I found out their schedule and started following them around. After a while, they let me travel with them, and whenever they weren’t playing, I’d be practicing on Randy’s guitar. One day, Devon brought me a bass guitar, and said, ‘Learn to play this, and we’ll let you join.’ So I did”

“Wow, at fifteen?”

“Nah, I was sixteen by then,” he winked at her and smiled as he leaned back into his seat.

“How old were they?”

“I think Randy was seventeen, but Devon and Keith were around nineteen or twenty.”

She tilted her head, “How did you guys get your big break?”

“You know, after five years playing all over, we had a pretty good following. Randy wrote a few songs that people really liked, and we found a label that liked our stuff.”

 Shelby nodded, but her attention had turned to a young man strolling around the club.

Rick followed her gaze, “Friend of yours?”

“No!” she said, almost violently. Then her tone softened, “We used to be friends, but he turned… mean.”

As he sauntered by, he said something to Shelby in Greek, and Rick noticed she lost some color in her face. He kept moving, but his eyes stayed fixed on Shelby, and he sat at an empty table not far from theirs.

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, tell me.”

“Fine. He asked if I told you yet that you wouldn’t get any…,” she hesitated, “any action from me.”

Rick was stunned and shot the guy a dirty look. The guy, not quite a man, but certainly not a boy, looked Rick in the eye. It sent a chill down his spine, but Rick held his gaze until the young man slowly looked away.

“What’s his name?”

“Takis.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, turning back to Shelby, trying not to show the uneasy feeling the stare-down gave him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure how,” she paused, as though deciding how best to start. Nervous and fidgeting, she began: “When I first came here, he was one of the first boys I met. I started out going with his best friend. We hung out quite a bit, always seemed to run in the same crowd, you know?”

Rick nodded, and leaned forward to flick the ash from his cigarette as she continued. “I have pictures of us from years ago, all happy together,” she shook her head. “He always wanted me to go with him, and I wouldn’t. My gut just said, ‘bad idea.’ So, I never would.” She took a long drag on her cigarette, careful not to look in Takis’s direction. “I think he thought that when I broke up with my last boyfriend – the one I was with so long – that we would get together. When I refused him again, he completely changed. I told him I felt like he was my brother, and it would be weird… but he didn’t care.”

Takis got up from his table and walked by them again, his eyes still fixed on Shelby. His only objective appeared to be intimidation. She waited until he walked out the door, and then continued, her voice filled with contempt, “He started stalking me, always seems to know where I am.”

 “Have you told your parents?”

“No,” she said. “He doesn’t scare me,” but her demeanor in his presence made it obvious that he did.

“Well, you need to be careful.”

“I will,” she smiled, her mood lightened by the young man’s departure. “Come dance with me,” she jumped up and grabbed his hand as
Brown Eyed Girl
began.

He resisted, saying, “No, no, I’m not a dancer…and don’t you have to be home soon anyway?”

“My parents are at a party, so I have a little longer.
Come on
,” she pulled on his arm. Unable to refuse her, he reluctantly rose and followed her to the dance floor. She pulled him to the center and began to dance. He tried to mimic her moves, but he was awkward and clumsy. Seeing him struggle, she leaned over and yelled into his ear, “Are you kidding me? How can you play so well, but not keep a beat dancing?”

He shrugged his shoulders and felt his cheeks burning. “Just never been able to.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, and then leaned back over and shouted “Pretend you’re on stage, and you’re playing the song, you own it…relax!”

He took a deep breath and did just that. He tried not to think about all the eyes that might be watching him, and imagined he was playing his guitar, anticipating what was to come next. Shelby’s eyes fixed on his, encouraging him with her gaze. With each breath and every beat, he found that his movements took less effort. He watched her rejoice in the sound blaring from the speakers above. As he relaxed into the song, he began to think that perhaps he was one of the passengers allowed off the ship, the one allowed to join in her revelry.

   When the song ended, he considered thanking her and returning to the safety of his seat, but didn’t. He continued to dance as Supertramp’s
Logical Song
began. He threw off the crutch she gave him, letting the rhythm and Shelby, guide him. They danced the next six songs, until finally she looked at her watch and shouted over the music, “I have to go.” He nodded and followed her off the floor. “Thanks Rick, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she turned toward the door.