by JL Bryan
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jason left work on his bicycle, waving off the countless people who offered to give him rides. He was in no hurry to get home. A number of cars followed him until he turned away from the road, cutting across parking lots, then back yards, and then across a cow pasture and into the woods, to escape the horde of fans following him.
Finally alone in the woods, he rode slowly alongside a small creek. He was worried about how he would act around Erin now, and whether she would hate him or, worse, feel pity for him, like he was some clueless little kid.
On top of that, he had to worry about the goblin that wouldn't leave his room—Jason was constantly picking up after Grizlemor, who was a confirmed slob. And the goblin was a reminder that somewhere, there were fairies that would be very angry when they found Jason. He couldn't believe that the little people with the butterfly wings were really so dangerous, but Grizlemor seemed terrified of them.
He emerged from the woods a few streets from his house, free of his fans now. He stopped in his driveway and took out his phone.
“Yeah?” Mitch answered.
“I have to tell my parents about the concert,” Jason said. “They won't want me to go.”
“Why not? It's a major festival.”
“I'm not even supposed to be in the band!”
“You can change their minds,” Mitch said.
“How?”
“The music, man! Once they hear the music, they'll see how good it is, and then they'll let you go.”
“Don't bet on it,” Jason said.
“Just let the music convince them. You know it will.”
Jason thought about it. “I don't really feel comfortable using fairy magic on my parents.”
“Why not? You're using it on everyone else.”
“But not to trick them...”
“Tricking them into coming to our shows. Giving us their money.”
“Yeah, but that's different.” Jason rubbed his head, staring at his front door. Inside, the lights were still on, even Katie's. Everyone was still awake. “They pay to hear good music, and they hear good music. Right?”
“Right. And when your parents hear it, they'll let you do whatever you want. ‘Cause it's that good.”
Jason thought of the hordes of fans who kept showing up at work. He couldn't imagine his parents acting that way.
“Erin did it,” Mitch said.
“She did?”
“Even worked on her jerk of a stepdad, and you know how he is. You've got the magic, so use it. I don't want you backing out of the show over this.”
“I won't,” Jason said.
“Then do what you have to.” Mitch hung up.
Jason sighed, parked his bike in the garage, and walked into the living room.
“Home a little early, aren't you, son?” his dad asked. He was in his recliner reading a Sports Illustrated, while Jason's mom watched Crazy for Ceramics! on the Home and Garden channel.
“I got fired,” Jason said, sitting down on the couch.
“What?” Jason's dad dropped the Sports Illustrated. “How did that happen?”
“Did you mouth off to somebody?” his mom asked.
“It's hard to explain,” Jason said.
“Were you late?” his dad asked. “Or did you goof up your work?”
“It's not that. We made this music video—”
“When you were supposed to be working?” Jason's mother gasped.
“Goofing off while on the clock.” His dad shook his head, looking disappointed. “What did I tell you about all that music nonsense?”
“No, we didn't make the video at work,” Jason said. “We made it a while ago. But Mitch put it on YouTube, and it's really popular now.”
“Videos of yourself? Why in the world would you want to do that?” his mother asked. “Don't you know the internet is forever?”
“Um...so anyway, Mitch made this video...well, actually Tadd made the video...no, this girl from Mitch's neighborhood actually made the first video—”
“That doesn't matter,” his dad said. “We want to know why you got fired.”
“That's why I'm telling you about the video.”
“Oh, goodness!” his mom said. “It's not...inappropriate, is it? You don't use swear words or anything?”
“No, we just play music. But it's really popular. It's been watched by a million people or more.”
“They must not have enough to do with their time,” his mom said. “These kids.”
“It's...they like the music, Mom!” Jason said. “That's why so many people watch it. And they share it on Facebook and Twitter and that other one...MySpace...so everybody who sees it shares it with more and more people. And so many people just really like the music.”
“Stop trying to change the subject,” his dad said. “We want to know about your job.”
“So a bunch of fans starting coming from all over to McSlob...McSlawburger's. And the assistant manager told me to just sit down and sign autographs. Then the owner came in and fired me for sitting there and signing autographs.”
“Aha!” his dad said. “Goofing off on the clock.”
“But I did what the assistant manager told me to do.”
“Why would anyone want your autograph?” his mom asked.
“Because, I told you, the video's a crazy big hit. In fact...we got invited to play at The Spoon and Cherry Festival. The Minneapolis Sculpture Garden.”
“Absolutely not!” his dad said.
“But Mitch already told them yes,” Jason said. “I can't let the band down.”
“You're grounded, you get fired from your job, and now you want to run around with those kids from that ridiculous band?” his dad shouted.
“Like that Erin Kavanagh girl,” his mom said. “I don't trust her, with all that wild-colored hair.”
“It's not ridiculous!” Jason said. “And Erin's not a bad person. Dad, they're paying us a thousand dollars each. For one night!”
“A thousand...” His dad's eyes went wide, but then he blinked and shook his head. “The money doesn't matter. It's the principle of the thing. We forbade you to go hanging around those bad kids, and you ignored us. And you got yourself fired.”
“But I got a better job,” Jason said. “If I worked at McSlob...the hamburger place all summer, every day, I wouldn't make a thousand dollars.” Jason didn't mention that all the money might have to go to Mitch's mom to repair her house. There would be plenty of shows ahead, the way things were going.
“I don't see why they'd pay so much money,” his dad said.
“Because everyone wants to see us! We're pretty good.” Jason hesitated, then plunged forward. “You should watch some of the videos. Both of you.”
“I don't need to see you making an idiot of yourself,” his dad said.
“We worked pretty hard on the music, Dad,” Jason said. “We've been practicing for a couple of months. I'd really like you to see it, even if it doesn't change your mind. Please?”
“Oh, George, maybe we should watch it,” Jason's mom said. “If he's worked so hard on it.”
His dad grunted. “Make it quick.”
“I'll show you.” Jason walked to the little computer table by the half-flight of steps that led up into the kitchen. He pulled up one of the videos—“First Road Out of Here”—and played it. He cranked up the speakers.
“That's too loud!” his dad said. “Turn it...down...”
Jason's parents gazed at the screen, mesmerized by the sound of the music flowing out.
“See?” Jason said. “People like it.”
His parents slowly stood and walked toward the computer, completely entranced.
“It's so sad,” his mother said.
“It's beautiful! Touching!” Jason's father choked up, clutching his heart. Jason wasn't sure his dad had ever used words like that before.
“Yeah, so you see why I need to go play this concert, right?�
� Jason said. “Everyone wants to see us. Mom? Dad? Are you listening?”
His parents were drifting closer and closer to the computer speakers, paying him no attention. It was creepy.
Jason paused the video. “So, can I go and play Saturday night?”
“What happened to the music?” Jason's dad asked.
“I want to hear more!” his mom said. “Right now, Jason!”
“Then tell me I can go play at the show.”
“Of course you can go and play.” Jason's father dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief. “The world shouldn't have to go without music like that.”
“Okay...great!” Jason said. “Thanks!”
“Would you push 'Play'?” his mom snapped.
“Sorry!” Jason unpaused the video. “There you go.”
He watched his parents swaying to the music. His dad put an arm around his mom, and they swayed slowly together.
“So...I'll go tell Mitch, then,” Jason said.
They didn't reply. They didn't seem to hear him.
Jason shook his head and went upstairs.
“What's that music?” Katie asked as Jason passed her door. She was stretched out on her bed, reading Darkwing Duck comic books.
“It's nothing,” Jason said.
“Nah-uh. That's your music! Everybody's talking about it.”
“Oh, everybody is, huh?”
“Everybody on the innernet!”
“Wow. Okay, see you later, Katie.” Jason walked into his room and closed the door. A new, funky smell had infused his room since Grizlemor moved in.
“I'm hungry!” the goblin said from under his bed.
Jason knelt and lifted the comforter. Grizlemor lay on his bed, looking up from his book. He was surrounded by dirty spoons and empty cans: Beanee Weenies, Spaghetti-o's, chili.
“Why don't you clean up a little?” Jason asked. He gathered the cans into the trash bag he'd left under his bed for exactly that purpose.
“Take the trash bag with you when you go get me more food,” Grizlemor said. “It's getting full.”
“With no help from you.” Jason gathered up the sticky, dirty spoons. “Don't you have anywhere to live yet?”
“Sure do. Right here.” Grizlemor patted the carpet. “Nice place, too. Smells a bit like humans, but I'm taking care of that.”
“You really are,” Jason said. He stood up.
“Don't forget my food!” Grizlemor said.
“What do you want now?”
“Saltine crackers, topped with grape jelly, cheese, and cod liver oil.”
“Are you kidding?” Jason asked.
“Goblins never kid about food.”
Jason sighed. He took the dirty spoons downstairs and put them in the dishwasher. He glanced at his parents, who were both hunched over the computer screen, watching another video, their eyes glazed. He didn't bother trying to hide the bizarre crackers as he put them together for the goblin. His parents didn't even seem to know he was there. They were lost in the music.
In his room, he slid the plate under the bed. He heard Grizlemor gobble them down, and he was glad he didn't have to watch—the goblin's eating habits were the most disgusting he'd ever seen.
Jason took out his phone and looked at Erin's number, which had a snapshot of her smiling face beside it. He wanted to call her, but what could he say? She'd made her feelings perfectly clear.
He threw the phone aside and took out his guitar. His hands played how he felt, the lower three strings, filling the room with sadness.
Katie wandered in, drawn by the music. She sat at the foot of his bed and listened, and she gradually began to cry. Not sobbing or screaming like she usually did, but just slowly leaking tears from her eyes while she watched Jason play.