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Spin Page 21

by Colleen Nelson


  Olivia and I went out to celebrate. Olivia giggled and snuggled against me and I kissed the top of her head, pride flowing through me. It was just like in The Elders of Warren when Aldred is released from his prison and he walks through the gates of Dromor. The whole kingdom lies in front of him, his future wide open to make it what he wants it to be.

  When it was time to go home, I’d insisted on walking her to her door. “I’ll have to meet your mom, you know. If we’re going to get a place together.”

  “I know,” Olivia said. “But not tonight. It’s late.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Okay. Let me tell her first about getting into med school.” There was a song in her voice when she said it. “I can’t wait to see the look on her face.”

  “I knew you could do it,” I said and leaned down to give her a long, deep kiss that I hung on to the whole walk home.

  Dizzy was still awake when I came home, sitting on her bed with a textbook in front of her. “Homework?”

  “Yeah.” She grimaced. “Science test.” School had been hard for her. Kids had talked to reporters, lies mostly, making things up so they’d get some attention. Others had slipped mean notes into her locker. Nothing she couldn’t handle, but still. I hated that kids were being shitty to her.

  “Where were you?”

  “Celebrating.”

  “Celebrating what?”

  I took the letter out of my backpack and held it out to her. She stretched across her bed to take it. “What is it?”

  “An acceptance letter. To Waverley University.”

  She looked at me like it was a joke. “For you?”

  “Yes, for me.” I laughed.

  “But, you never said anything about —” Her eyes went from me to the letter. “Where is Waverley? Is it far?”

  “A few hours away. Olivia got in, too. Med school. She’s so pumped. It was her third time applying.” I ran a hand over my head. I’d let my hair grow out a little and the curls stood up in a tousled mess.

  “You’re going away?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But, what about the store? And Dad? Did you tell him?”

  “Not yet.”

  “God, Lou.” Dizzy leaned back on the wall behind her bed, eyes wide with shock.

  “Did you think I was going to stay around here forever?” I asked gently. After everything she’d been through the last weeks, I didn’t want to upset her, not on purpose, anyway.

  “I just — I never thought you’d leave, you know? And right now, it’s so —” She broke off and looked hopelessly at the books in front of her. “I don’t want you to go.” A new thought dawned on her; I saw it cross her face a second before she said it. “Is it because of me? Of what happened with Georgia?”

  “No, I’d applied before any of the stuff with Georgia happened. It’s got nothing to do with her. Or you. I’m ready for something else, I guess. Anyhow, Jeremy will still be here. He’s got another year of graphic design school. It’s not like I’m moving to Australia. I’ll be back at breaks.”

  “It’s not the same as having you around all the time.”

  “Things don’t stay the same, Dizz. No matter what.”

  Dizzy pursed her lips, like it wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but she knew it was true. “You’re still coming tomorrow night, right?”

  “Course. Liv is, too.” Our first Friday Night Spin since the story broke. I knew Dizzy was itching to get behind the turntables. She’d been downstairs on her own, practising at night when the reporters had left. It had been a long time since she’d spun in front of a crowd. When I looked at my sister now, I could tell she’d grown up. Leaving was going to be hard, for both of us, but I knew she’d be okay. She was a Doucette, after all.

  - 53 -

  Ray

  Last month and a half felt like a year. Hard to get out of bed some days. Would have been easier to just lie there, let the dogs outside bay and howl for us. But I was no mouse. They needed to see I wasn’t living in fear of them. Got up, went downstairs, opened the store, tried to act like things were normal, even though reporters double parked their cars outside and didn’t give a shit when the cops gave them tickets. Store was busy, but not with our regulars. They stayed away, emailing their orders to Lou. It was the ones who wanted a story that came in to look through the shelves, hoping to catch a glance of Dizzy. Tried to shoo them out, fast as I could. Shame them for bothering a fifteen-year-old, but there was always another one, curious to see her face-to-face.

  Jury was still out on whether Dizzy was Georgia’s kid or not, according to the public. Reporters hadn’t been able to dig up anything that could prove who she was — no public records, nothing. Not sure if Georgia’s reach went that far, or if the reporters just didn’t do a good job, but nothing ever surfaced. No birth certificates, no documents that could prove who Dizzy was to Georgia.

  If they’d found the bank accounts that Georgia had set up a long time ago, things would have been clearer. Some offshore Cayman Island accounts, one for each kid. All the money deposited in there was to be parcelled out. A chunk when they turned twenty-one, and so on. The kids would be rich if they handled it the right way. Wasn’t sure what to think about it, but that was part of being Georgia’s kids, I guess. Got to be some perks.

  I hadn’t told Lou yet. He could use the money to pay off his student loans if he wanted. Shit, he could use it to pay for Olivia’s, too. I’d had to sit down when he told me about going away to school. First Doucette I’d ever known who went to university. Didn’t even know he was thinking about it. All the stuff with Georgia, I hadn’t been paying attention. But, there it was — my kid going to Waverley University. I liked thinking about it, like a long, slow note that hung in the air.

  That wound on my heart Georgia had left hadn’t opened up again. I worried that it might. Lou wasn’t letting her in. He still didn’t trust her, figured she’d take off again. Can’t blame him. But I could see how she’d changed. Some of the shine had worn off the life she led. Made me sad to think of what she missed with the kids, but she was getting her chance now. Maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be. Maybe the kids had been my second chance, giving me the life I needed, even if I hadn’t thought I wanted it. Now it was her turn.

  The store was packed. People stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the DJ table. Didn’t know how many people were here to see Dizzy and how many were just curious to get a look at her. Never wanted my kids to be freak shows. A lot of the attention had died down; the media had gone on to the next scandal. We were never that interesting anyway.

  Dizz was nervous. She kept her head down, avoiding the crowd, and fidgeted through the vinyl, acting like she was organizing it, when she just kept sliding the same record in and out.

  She wasn’t just some girl trying her hand at spinning anymore. People knew her. Lou shook hands with a guy I’d never seen before. The way he walked in, waiting to be impressed, made him stand out. That had to be the manager Lou had said was coming. Erika had sent him, told him Dizzy was one to watch. I kept an eye on him from the front of the store. He took everything in, looking at the posters on the walls, his eyes darting across to where I sat with the guys. I met those eyes, held them. Don’t mess with my girl, I said with my gaze. He lowered his chin and gave me a nod, kind of respectful.

  Lou dimmed the lights. A cheer went up inside the store. Dizzy glanced my way, an excited smile on her face. Okay, I breathed, nerves jangling for her. Tonight was a risk, the set she’d planned. But I guess she’d gotten good at taking risks over the last while. The store was set up different; a second stage, made of pallets we’d found in alleys, sat to the left of the booth. Chairs and a drum set were waiting for Donnie, Rudy, and Barney. I was already at my spot with Betsy lying on my lap.

  We’d been practising all week, working on ways to combine what she did with vinyl with our jams. She wasn’t using Georgia’s music tonight. She didn’t need to.

  “Hey, man!” I looked at the
guy coming toward me. He was missing a couple of teeth, wearing a T-shirt and jeans and a beat-up denim jacket. Hair was shaved close to his head. When he grinned, there was something familiar about him. A customer, I guessed. Maybe one I hadn’t seen in a while. “Music Man!” he said and held out his hand.

  Then it came to me. “Goddammit, Leroy! How are you, man?”

  He paused, still holding my hand, and took a step closer. “You know, I’m good, man.”

  Tried to think back to when I’d last seen him. The day I’d given him the ticket to the concert, I guessed.

  “You ever use that ticket I gave you?”

  “Sure did. That’s when things picked up for me. Hearing that angel sing, she put things right for me, you know? Had to get cleaned up before I saw her. Made me remember who I was.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Trying to find a job now, too. Thought I could teach music lessons once in a while, get back to what I used to do.” He looked around the store. “Nice place you got here. Been thinking about coming by for a while, to say thank you.”

  “I’m glad you did. You gonna stay for a while? Listen to the set? That’s my daughter there, Delilah, and those are the guys.” I pointed them out to him. Barney let loose a belly laugh so loud it made a couple people turn and stare. Leroy got a faraway look in his eyes. Wondered if he’d had some friends once upon a time like the guys.

  “What’d you used to play? Keys?”

  He nodded.

  “Any time you want to come by and bang around a little …” I let my voice drift off, the invitation open. “I got a keyboard in the back.”

  He tapped his foot on the ground, blinked a few times. His eyes were wet. “You’re a good guy.”

  I shook my head and laughed, kind of embarrassed.

  “No, you are. I can tell.” He drifted off into the crowd. I picked up Betsy and held her on my lap. When I looked up again, Leroy was gone, but I hoped he’d be back. I’d be needing some part-time help once Lou went away to school. No harm in giving a guy like him a chance.

  Did that make me a good guy, or just one who remembered what it was like to need a hand up? Georgia had found me, way back, shown me there was more than living hand to mouth. Gave me two kids, two reasons to make something more of myself. Despite all the mixed-up feelings I had for her, there was gratitude, too.

  Dizzy looked at me, ready to spin. Lou was standing at the front of the store, holding up a phone. Guess they were posting it, or tweeting it, or whatever the hell they did with things like that now. I nudged the guys. “Ready?” The lights dimmed and Dizzy put the needle down on her first record.

  - 54 -

  Dizzy

  I glanced at Dad. He grinned at me and I took a deep breath. Rik Gunther had walked in. I saw him talking to Lou. He booked DJs for gigs in the city. Erika had shown him my video on YouTube and sent him my music. Told him I was as good in person as I looked on the video. Of course, he knew the backstory, too. Lou warned me he might just be fishing. Guys like him come out to shows every night of the week to check out new talent.

  He might also just be interested because of Georgia. It might not be my talent he’s curious about. But my spinning spoke for myself. Especially tonight. What we had planned was going to bring the house down, I knew it. None of Georgia’s records were even on the table tonight, so if he’d come hoping to hear her voice, he’d be disappointed.

  Maya was here, with her mom. Maya waved frantically at me when she walked in wearing her latest flea market find: a suede jacket with fringe on the arms that she’d clutched against her chest like a long-lost friend. Our excursion to the city and finding out the truth about my mom had actually made things better between them. Watching the tenuous connection Georgia and I had, Maya must have seen how lucky she was to have a mom like Carla.

  “You ready?” Lou gestured to me. I looked over at Dad, Donnie, Rudy, Big Tom, and Barney. They’d stopped their bantering and had picked up their instruments. Big Tom stood at the microphone, waiting. “Yeah, Dizzy!” Maya yelled and clapped her hands. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. A cheer rose up as I put on my headphones.

  I was part of something bigger being on stage with the guys. They knew when to jump in and when to hang back, waiting for their moment to shine. We’d been practising — a lot — and it was paying off. I looked at Dad. Seeing him in the hospital had been the scariest moment of my life, but it had put things in perspective, too. The people who mattered most to me were right here. They were my mix, my way of making sense of the world. All the different beats and samples meshed together into a new song, my song. Maybe, one day, Georgia would be included in the mix, too.

  I nodded at Lou. He held up his phone. He was Facetiming Georgia as a favour to me. I dropped the needle on the first record; Barney added a beat on the drums. The record spun for a minute and I added a sample. Okay, I was using something of Georgia’s, but it wasn’t a song or anything that anybody would recognize. It was something she’d said on the phone. I’d sampled it and played it in a loop, the words repeating over and over. Dad put his sax to his lips. A long, low melody streamed into the air, but as I sped up the music, Dad closed his eyes and moved his head to its beat. His fingers flew over the keys. Behind the DJ booth, I danced, unable to stand still. I flicked a switch and the music got faster, a challenge to Dad. Donnie’s laugh rang out, he jumped in. Dad grinned as he played, and opened one eye at me, giving a shake of his head. I clapped my hands above my head, feeling the beat, feeling the love, feeling the joy.

  The direction of the playlist unfolded in my head. The story undulating with beats and the collaboration of many voices wound itself through the air. Looking out into the crowd, I let their energy guide me, riding it like a wave.

  I scratched out a beat and sped up the sample of Georgia’s voice. As it played over and over to Barney’s drum beat, the crowd started to chant it.

  “Spin, girl, spin!”

  - Acknowledgements -

  Thank you to the Dundurn team, who make the editing and publishing process such a seamless and enjoyable experience. Special gratitude goes to Kathryn Lane, Jenny McWha, Laura Boyle, Elham Ali, Heather McLeod, and Sophie Paas-Lang, as well as Catherine Dorton and Courtney Horner.

  Thanks to some friends who read early drafts of this book: Cindy Kochanski, Nancy Hendry, and Rebecca Wesselius. A big thank you to Sajana Willis — a real-life teenage DJ! — who provided valuable feedback. Thank you to Jeff and Liliana Willis for their helpful comments, as well.

  Thanks also to my “cheerleaders” — the people who are happy to let me blather on about my books and who bolster my spirits when needed: Mandy Connell, Kim Bell, Joanne Kelly, Nancy Chappell-Pollack, Karen Deeley, Joan Chappell, and Jodi Carmichael.

  Helen Kubiw deserves a huge thank-you for her constant enthusiasm and generosity towards Canadian authors. Her blog, CanLit for LittleCanadians, is a wonderful resource for teachers and readers, and demonstrates her passion for promoting Canadian authors. Thank you, Helen!

  Thank you also to the Canadian Children’s Book Centre, 49th Shelf, and 49th Shelf for Teachers, and all the reading programs that help to put great Canadian books in the hands of readers. Special shout-out to the OLA Forest of Reading and my dear friends on the MYRCA committee!

  Finally, as always, thanks to Sheldon.

  Book Credits

  Acquiring Editor: Kathryn Lane

  Project Editor: Jenny McWha

  Editor: Catherine Dorton

  Cover Designer: Courtney Horner

  Interior Designer: Sophie Paas-Lang

  Publicist: Elham Ali

 

 

 
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