by Rex Bolt
“You all right?” Jack said. “You seem kinda off.”
“Nah, sorry I’m good. What’s up with you, anything?’
“Ah well I’m on my way to the music store. I gotta see if I can sell ‘em back my drums.”
“Tall Toad, you mean? I love that place. Why do you have to sell the drums?”
“The damn neighbors keep complaining. My old man, he read me the riot act.”
“That’s too bad. You play in school, the band or anything? You take lessons on ‘em?”
“None of that. I just bang around. I like it though.”
Pike always wanted to play drums himself. His parents made him take piano lessons when he was a little kid and that never jived. He never seemed to have enough money to buy a drumset, or when he did, something was in the way.
“Okay I’m thinking out loud here now,” Pike said. “We have a basement, it’s pretty quiet down there . . . you could stick them there for a while, if you want.”
“Heck. You sure about that? What about your folks, and stuff?”
“That won’t be an issue, they don’t go down there much.”
“Yeah, but the noise.”
Pike was picturing his parents these days, pretty sure the last thing they’d be worrying about, or even noticing, was someone playing drums in the basement. “Like I said,” Pike said.
“Damn,” Jack said. “You’re a good man, you know it? . . . Thank you.”
If Pike didn’t know better, this whole conversation was taking place in the Twilight Zone. Hannamaker, of all people, now sort of his buddy.
“So,” Pike said, “you want to deal with it now?”
“Hey, if you got the time . . . definitely.”
Pike followed Jack over to his house. He lived over on Mercer Street, in what they called the M section. Pike’s impression was in the heyday, when the neighborhood was developed new, and fresh, it probably had a good vibe, but right now most of the houses were kind of shabby and run down. More than a few of them had old cars jacked up in the driveways, that would never be going anywhere.
The next door neighbor had a couple of pit bulls running around in a front yard that didn’t look all that well fenced in. When they got in the house Pike asked if those were the people complaining about the drums.
“Other side,” Hannamaker said. “My old man’s got issues with both of them though, plus a guy across the street.”
There were pizza boxes and beer bottles in the living room that hadn’t been disposed of, and there was the lingering smell of cigarette smoke. The far wall had been exposed down to the studs and had plastic sheeting on it, as though some repair or renovation was theoretically going to take place.
They went down the hall to one of the bedrooms and the drum set was crammed in the corner. There was a set of bunk beds and what looked like an air mattress situation on the floor.
“Tight in here,” Jack said.
“Gee, yeah,” Pike said. “Tight just to live, forget about the drums.”
“One’s my brother, the other’s my step-brother. You get used to it.”
Seeing this made Pike feel a little guilty about his own situation, which was positively luxurious by comparison. He also felt worse now about breaking the guy’s jaw, though thankfully that hadn’t happened, in the end.
It was a nice simple old-fashioned drum kit, a snare, bass, air tom, floor tom, hi-hat, and crash and ride cymbal. Pike had fooled around in Tall Toad on those electronic kits, where you could put on headphones and not bother anyone, but they weren’t the same animal.
They got the drums out of there and back to Pike’s and they carried them down to the basement. Hannamaker looked around and said, “Dang, this is a sweet set-up.”
Pike hadn’t thought about it too much, didn’t spend a lot of time down here, but could see that, yeah, it wasn’t bad.
“I’m just remembering,” he said, “the last time I was even down here was probably with my old girlfriend, Cathy. It was sort of chaotic upstairs one night so we came down.”
“It’s kind of fixed-up though,” Jack said. “You sure I’m not intruding, or anything?”
“Don’t worry about it. My dad finished off part of it years ago, and then that was it. I guarantee the only time anyone’d come down here is if something went wrong with the furnace.”
Hannamker said, “Cathy? You mean Carlisle? She’s a pretty hot little number.”
“Yeah we hooked up over the summer. Didn’t last too long, she dumped me.”
“I got dumped too,” Jack said. This part was weird, kind of hard to take.
“So where do think’s the best place?” Pike said.
“Well I’d say definitely in the back, where it’s just cement. I’d feel better about being out of everyone’s way, just in case.”
They set up the drums back there and Pike found an old piece of carpet to wedge under the bass drum so nothing slid around when you used the kick-pedal. Hannamker picked up the sticks and started playing, trying to keep the noise level down. Pike didn’t know a lot about music, but he could tell Jack wasn’t bad, he had some talent.
When Jack stopped Pike said, “Don’t hold back. I’m telling you, you’re not going to disturb a single person . . . In fact we can get some speakers down here and crank up the music and play along, that’s a lot of fun.”
Hannamaker wasn’t convinced. “I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t know. I’m not comfortable letting loose. Plus you got neighbors as close I do, and what if I want to play at night or something? Your whole family’s gonna be right upstairs, even if I believe you that they don’t come down here. It just doesn’t sit right.”
Pike had a thought developing. “Are you handy?” he said.
“I can usually figure it out. Why?”
“So . . . why don’t we box it up then? Put up some walls and shit, close it off.”
“Hmm . . . and throw in some insulation? That’d have me feeling a whole lot better, to be honest.”
“What do we got, do you think, in terms of expense?” Pike still had most of the hundred dollars he’d nabbed from his dad, in case he needed it for a motel during his back travel. This would technically be a home improvement, wouldn’t it, so what the heck.
“Don’t worry about any of that,” Jack said. “My uncle’s a contractor. He’s got a garage full of loose stuff we can have. All’s we need, some 2 x 4s, sheetrock, some fasteners, a little paint, maybe borrow an air gun from my uncle to to secure the bottom stud-plates to the concrete.”
“Plus some insulation of course, for the sound-proofing you’re so worried about,” Pike said.
“Yeah, for sure . . . the only thing, I’m not going to even think about this until I square it with your parents, face to face.”
“Would calling ‘em up work?”
“Okay, fine,” Jack said.
Pike called his mom. There was an indoor pool next to the rec center, and she took Bo and Jackie there sometimes on Fridays. Pike got right to the point, ran it by her, and it didn’t take long.
“We’re good,” he said. “It was like, ‘whatever suits you, dear’, or something pretty close.”
“How about your dad though?”
“Nah, not necessary. He’s kind of checked out, to be honest. I’m really not speaking to him much lately.”
That hung for a second and Hannamaker was polite enough to leave it alone.
“So,” Pike said, “what do you think, a week or two, we got this nailed?”
“Or we could take care of it tomorrow,” Jack said.
Chapter 13
Pike made tentative contact with Hailey early Saturday morning. He sent her a text, asking if there was tennis today, hoping her answer would shed some light.
He wondered, maybe did I join that lame tennis group at school?, where I met Hailey that Saturday morning on Mr. Milburn’s bicycle. Now that football was over, he definitely had time on his hands, and all bets were off.
Of course Hailey got bac
k to him in about thirty seconds. She didn’t say anything about tennis, she only told him they needed to talk, and Pike didn’t care for that reply.
One thing he was learning, if there was bad news or surprising news or any other news, your best best is meet it head-on. He’d been ducking things in that regard the last couple days.
So he told her he’d be over at her house in 20 minutes.
It was strange to keep showing up at the Milburns’. It was like, what’s the story going to be this time?
It was eerie to think that just a couple days ago, at least in real time, he was speaking to Mrs. Milburn in the side yard, and she went in the house to get him an iced tea.
This time Hailey met him out front. She started to say something and Pike held up his hand and interrupted her with, “I’m listening to you, but before you get into it--did you fill out a piece of paper for me, where I asked a bunch of questions about your family history?”
“Of course I did,” Hailey said. “What’s wrong with you? . . . Don’t you remember, I asked my dad and he didn’t want to deal with it, so I had my sister help me, and she didn’t know much either.”
“Oh, is that how it worked.”
“Yes. You were irritated. I still don’t understand what the big deal was.”
“Did I . . . drive you to L.A? Manhattan Beach?”
“Pike, what on earth are you talking about?”
This was a relief. “I’m just messing with you,” he said. “So what’s up?”
Hailey was rubbing her hands together and stared down at her feet.
“This is awkward,” she said. “Jamie Newsome asked me out. For tonight. I’ve been stalling him . . . Should I go?”
“Of course,” Pike said. “What’s the problem?”
Hailey started to cry. “That’s what I thought you’d say,” she said.
Pike felt bad, like maybe he should give her a pat on the back or a hug, but he definitely didn’t want to open any can of worms either.
She said, “You know I’ve been leaving all kinds of hints out there . . . Or maybe you don’t, maybe I’ve just been a total fool.”
Pike was getting the idea now, he was pretty sure.
“You’re a great kid,” he said. “I’m just not into a relationship right now. And honestly, especially with a sophomore.”
“Kid . . . thanks a lot.”
“Hail, come on . . . When I’m 26, and you’re 24? Who knows? Right now we’re just on different planes.” Pike was thinking, and that’s a heck of an understatement.
Hailey had stopped crying, as though she was accepting her fate, and was dabbing her eyes. “Does that mean we’re done playing tennis?” she said.
“No way,” Pike said, brightening up. “You have to promise to stop kicking my ass though.”
That got her laughing at least a little, and Pike told her to have fun tonight and to stay safe, and she went back in the house.
Pike drove out of there and took stock of the situation. Thank god he’d established that. Their interaction back then had obviously triggered something which sustained itself the last couple months, but luckily it had just been a friendship, centered mostly around tennis apparently. No trip to Manhattan Beach together either, which certainly, in the original case, Audrey’s, meant more than simple friendship.
Jack was going to be showing up around 11. He said he could borrow his uncle’s work truck and had everything under control, and all Pike really had to do was let him in.
Pike wanted to help out more than that of course, but meanwhile he had an hour . . . so why not look around Chico a little bit?
Meaning, Street View, a map, whatever else.
He entered the address that the librarian gave him, and he ran it through twice to make sure, but it was a UPS store now, and the whole block looked commercial, like everything had been razed and replaced by a strip mall. What could you do? Things change.
It shouldn’t matter of course. It was a small city, not all that much larger than Beacon really, that should be easy enough to navigate and run into the Milburns one way or another. You didn’t have to see the actual house in advance, or apartment, or whatever it was.
One serious concern that had been eating at him the last couple days was did he truly think he was capable of timing it?
It was one thing to go back a day, or even two months, which didn’t seem like that huge a deal now.
But now we’re talking 1993, aren’t we? So from 2016 that’s what, 23 years?
How would you land on that? It seemed as imposing as closing your eyes and trying to hit a specific number on a roulette wheel in a casino.
You had a window, of course, because if you missed ‘93 and instead arrived there in ‘92, or maybe even ‘94, the Milburns should still be around, since they lived there for few years.
But even so, back a couple decades, it was a damn tight window.
The other thing of course . . . should he miraculously make it, then how do you handle it? Meaning . . . how do you stop Audrey’s parents from moving back to Beacon?
This seemed frankly ridiculous, what Pike was contemplating, the sanity of it all.
Meanwhile, there was the rumbling of a diesel truck outside and he looked out the window and there was Hannamaker, all loaded up.
“You have to return this?” Pike said.
“No, my uncle’s not working today, so we can relax. The one thing I forgot, which I can’t believe I didn’t think of, a door . . . Dang it.”
“Jeez, that’s a good point . . . But can we start off, at least?”
“Yeah, we’ll have to,” Jack said. “I heard you ended it with Hailey. Before it even started.”
“Wow . . .” Pike said.“You’re tossing that at me out of the blue? How’s something like that get around?
“I actually called Audrey about something. Unimportant. We’re not getting back together, or anything like that.”
“You never know,” Pike said, even though it killed him. “Put a little distance on the situation, maybe you’ll work it out.”
Jack said, “She likes you by the way. I can tell.”
“Wait a second . . . how’s that?”
“Don’t worry about it . . . If it’s meant to be, then you’ll know.”
“That really helps me, thanks.”
“I’m serious,”Jack said. “My grandma, she used to always say, things happen for a reason. I thought it was bullshit, but I’ve seen it applied to situations.”
“That type stuff,” Pike said, “I always thought was off the deep end. If you put a gun to my head, I guess I’m a little more open-minded to it now.”
“Let’s get started,” Jack said.
Hannamaker knew what he was doing. First they built the stud walls, three of them, since they’d be using the existing basement wall as the fourth. They cut the 2 x 4’s and attached them sixteen inches apart, and then they installed them in place. Jack had a fancy stud finder which he used to tie into the ceiling joists, and that heavy duty air driver worked great on the floor, since you were blasting nails into the cement to secure the bottom sills.
“This looks tremendous, actually,” Pike said. “What about the drums, though?”
“Fuck,” Hannamker said. They’d closed off the area without putting the drumset in it.
“Couple of idiots,” Pike said. “Although I guess we were thinking we’d leave space for a door, right?”
Jack had a scowl on his face and was dismantling part of the job so they’d have an opening for the drums. It took him a while, and he had to use a crow bar for part of it.
“There,” Jack said finally.
Pike said, “What I’m thinking? We stick in the drum kit, we forget about any door, we close up the sucker as-is.”
“Yeah, right. Except for the one thing, how we actually get in.”
“So what we do . . . we leave a panel on top that we can flip up. Then we climb through that way.”
Jack laughed. “Man, you don’t know the f
irst thing about construction do you?”
“No.”
Hannamaker took a second.“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve heard in a long time . . . But let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“As a kid I always wanted a fort. It never worked out. I’m thinking, this would kind of be like that.”
“I wanted a fort too,” Pike said.
“Of course, aren’t we a little old for this shit?”
Pike didn’t say anything, so Jack didn’t answer the question either.
By dinner-time they’d finished with the insulation and sheetrock and it didn’t look half-bad. There was still the issue of that panel.
“How would you work it?” Jack said. “I’m getting tired, I’m not thinking straight here.”
“You’re asking me? I don’t know . . . some hinges or something. And a little handle?”
“Okay probably, yeah . . . I gotta be honest, I’m starved off my ass, I can’t keep it up until I eat.”
Pike said, “Dude, you’re speaking to the converted. I’ll treat you.” Thinking, though did he still have enough left over of what he grabbed from his dad.
Pike drove, and they settled on In-n-Out. It wouldn’t have made sense to go that far, the fifteen miles out to the interstate, except Hannamaker thought of a couple more items they should pick up at Home Depot, which was out there too.
“That feels a lot better,” Jack said, after they’d both polished off multiple burgers and fries, and Pike said, “Don’t you know it.”
The thing now was to get some rope and couple of heavy gauge eye-hooks, plus the hinges and the handle, and they scoured the aisles at Home Depot. No one working there seemed to know where anything was, but Hannamaker found what they needed and they drove back to Pike’s to finish the damn job.
When they pulled up, Cathy, of all people, was getting back in her car at the bottom of the driveway, ready to leave, since apparently she’d found no one home.
“What the heck,” Pike said.
“Hey,” she said.
“You might as well come in,” he said. “Jack here, and me, we’ve got a little project going . . . You know Jack, right?”