My Name Is Chloe

by Melody Carlson

  She shook her head. “No, it’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay.” I glanced over to see if we were upsetting David, but he seemed to be absorbed in stacking his blocks. “The point is, I want to be your friend, and I wish you’d quit pushing me away.” I stepped toward her thinking I should probably give her a hug, but somehow I just couldn’t. This is something I think I need to work on. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

  Now she stepped back and looked at me. I was afraid she was going to yell and tell me to leave, but instead she smiled and wiped her eyes on a kitchen towel. “What you said about Wicca probably was true. I guess I just haven’t looked at it that way.”

  I blinked and then took the towel and wiped my own eyes. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “I hadn’t thought about the whole drumming thing like that. But you’re right. It didn’t have anything to do with Wicca. How could it? And you’re also right that getting into Wicca hasn’t made me any happier. To be honest, it’s pretty frustrating. It’s like I have to have money to buy the stuff to do the things and, well, I just don’t. But the reason I got so involved with it to start with was because I felt like I have no control over—” she waved her arms—“any of this. It’s like life just keeps getting worse and worse, and it plows right over me and takes me along with it. And I was fed up.”

  “I know how you feel.”

  “Last summer, I started using the computer at the library while David was at story hour, and the woman next to me was visiting all these Wicca websites. She told about how it was a great way to get some control over your life—and it just sounded so good to me. So I would go in there and read everything I could. And then school started and it seemed as if maybe things were going to change for me. Then I met you and they did.”

  “Okay, can I be gut-level honest with you right now, Allie?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Well, I really believe that our meeting and becoming friends was not an accident.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

  “And I believe the whole music thing wasn’t an accident either.”

  She nodded more vigorously this time. “Me too.”

  “I think God is behind the whole thing. I haven’t actually said this out loud before, but I really think He wants us to do something big with our music. I know it seems crazy, but I really believe it—” I tapped on my chest—“in here.”

  She just stared at me. “But I don’t get it.”

  “What?”

  “If God is doing this thing, then why would He involve me?”

  I laughed. “Why not? I happen to think you’re pretty cool. You’ve been a good friend. You’re a good drummer. But mostly I think it’s because God really loves you, Allie. Can’t you see that?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Look, I’m not going to pressure you into giving your heart to God, but it’s sure changed my life. And I hope you can trust that I wouldn’t lie to you about this whole thing. Would I?”

  She studied me. “No, I don’t think you would.”

  “So would you just consider what I’m saying?”

  She finally nodded. “I guess I already am.”

  “Great. Well, I better go now. I’ve got a pile of homework to do, and I want to be able to go to church tonight.” I headed for the door.

  “Chloe?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you think I could come with you?”

  “To church?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sure. Of course!”

  And so, Allie went to church with me tonight. No, she didn’t walk down the aisle and give her heart to Jesus. But she told me that she wants to learn more about being a Christian.

  “I’m not making any promises,” she said as we went out to the parking lot. She quickly lit and smoked a cigarette as we waited for my dad to pick us up. “But I’ll look into it—just like I was looking into Wicca.”

  “So are you still looking into Wicca too?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll have to see which one of these—if either—works for me.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  o, God, tell her that You love her

  show her that Your way

  is better—best!

  put Your arms around her

  and tell her she’s special

  show her that You have

  better things in store

  give her hope

  and ignite her faith

  so that she can love You

  more than anything!

  amen

  cm

  Eleven

  Thursday, October 31

  What a totally weird night! In fact, I’m still not completely sure what’s going on. Okay, let me back up a little and start at the beginning. It all began yesterday when I got a call from Mike from the Paradiso Café.

  “I listened to your demo,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “Yeah?” I waited with pounding heart, barely able to breathe.

  “And it’s pretty good.”

  “Really?” I felt the air return to my lungs. “You liked it?”

  “Yeah. And I thought, maybe if you’re not busy tomorrow night—do you already have plans?”

  “Busy? No, no. It’s not like I was going trick-or-treating or anything.” I laughed nervously.

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Maybe you’d like to come do some songs then. Like around eight?”

  “Sure.” Well, I was so happy you’d think someone had offered me a multimillion-dollar recording contract. But I tried to contain myself as I went down to tell my parents. And maybe I contained myself too well, because they just said stuff like “that’s nice” and “sounds like fun.” Acting as if these things happen to me all the time. But the next day at school, I got a better reaction from Laura, who actually screamed in the hallway.

  “You’re kidding!” Then she hugged me and promised to come watch.

  Now, that was satisfying.

  Then I told Allie the good news while we were waiting in the lunch line.

  “Really? You’re going to play at Paradiso?” She looked at me with obvious admiration. Well, at first anyway. Then she sort of frowned. “All by yourself?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded as I picked up a Jell-O. “Remember I told you how I took in a demo tape a while back. It was before we’d even started jamming or anything.”

  “And so you’re going to go solo then?”

  The way she said the word solo sounded like it was comparable to bungee jumping or motorcycle racing without a helmet. “Yeah.” I filled my soda cup.

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  “Sure.” I turned to look at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She scowled. “Oh, no reason. It’s just that I thought we were a band or something.” Now her tone was decidedly sarcastic. And she looked like I’d stabbed her in the back or cheated from her homework when she wasn’t looking.

  “Look, Allie, it’s not like I’m leaving you guys out of anything. This is something totally different. The Paradiso isn’t even set up for bands yet. And besides, we’re not really even a real band. And we’re sure not ready for a real gig. I mean, we don’t even have a name or anything.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She set her tray on the table then turned to Jake and Cesar who were already eating. “Chloe’s got her first music gig tonight,” she said in a flat tone.

  “Really?” Cesar’s eyes lit up. “Where is it?”

  “The Paradiso.” She sat down and sighed deeply. “And she didn’t even invite her band to play with her.”

  “Allie,” I tried again. “It’s not like that. The coffeehouse is not set up to—”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waved her hand. “I think you’re just embarrassed to be seen with us amateurs.”

  “I am not!”

  “What time is the gig?” asked Cesar.

  “At eight.” I smiled. “You guys should come.”

  “You mean instead of tr
ick-or-treating?” Jake pretended to pout. “You really expect us to give up the goodies just to hear the Jesus Freak play?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, and I’ll bet you guys really go trick-or-treating too.”

  “Well, there’s more than one kind of trick-or-treating, ya know.” He winked at me like he’d just told a dirty joke.

  “Hey, you can count me in, Chloe,” said Cesar. “I’ll be at the Paradiso.”

  I turned to Allie and put on my best pleading face. “Won’t you come too?”

  She still looked unhappy.

  “Laura was okay with this,” I continued. “She said she’s going to come, and you could probably hitch a ride with her.”

  Allie sniffed. “You know Halloween is important to—”

  Jake laughed. “Oh, yeah, Allie, are you going to be hanging out with a bunch of witches and worshiping the devil and stuff?”

  She glared at him. “It’s not like that!”

  “I thought you said you were giving all that Sabrina, the Teenage Witch stuff up,” said Cesar.

  I remained silent. I hadn’t talked to Allie about her Wicca thing since our conversation at her house last Sunday, and I guess I’d just hoped that she was losing interest. Although now it didn’t seem like it.

  “I never said I was giving anything up,” she snapped. Then she turned and glared accusingly at me as if I was the one who had spread these rumors.

  “Hey, don’t look at me.” I held my hands up. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You’re the one who said it, Allie,” Jake reminded her. “Remember when I asked you about putting a hex on my stepmom the other day, and you said you weren’t into that stuff anymore?”

  She shrugged. “Well, that’s not how it works anyway.”

  I could tell she was upset about that whole coffeehouse thing, so I didn’t say anything until it was almost time to go to class. By then the guys had departed and it was just the two of us.

  “Hey, I’m really sorry the whole band can’t play at the Paradiso tonight, but don’t you want to come anyway? I could really use some support in the audience. And besides, if it goes over well tonight, maybe I can see about having the band play there another time. It’s not like we three girls would really take up a lot of space. And I suppose we could turn our amps down a little.”

  “Really?” Her eyes brightened. “That’d be so cool.”

  “And Laura said she’d give you a ride tonight. She’s got her license now, you know.”

  And so it was all smoothed over and settled. Or so I thought. I was really looking forward to playing tonight and having some friends there to pad out the audience. Anyway, I went straight home from school and tore through my closet, which is really pretty sparse. And although I don’t consider myself a particularly fashion-conscious or vain person, I don’t know how many times I changed my clothes this afternoon, trying to figure out what looked the best. And then finally I just settled on an old black T-shirt with my ripped denim vest, blue jeans, and my purple Doc Martens. I know, pretty boring, but it was getting late and my dad was ready to go.

  “Are you going to stay and watch?” I asked as he pulled up to the front door of the cafe. It was pouring down rain, and I waited in the car for his response. But to be honest, I wasn’t sure whether I really wanted him there or not.

  “Didn’t Mom mention that we’re going to a Halloween party at the Stephensens tonight?”

  I could tell he felt sort of bad. “Oh, that’s okay, Dad.” I grabbed up my guitar case. “It’s not like it’s any big deal.”

  “When do you need to be picked up?”

  “I can get a ride home from Laura.” Although I hadn’t checked with her to be sure, I thought she probably wouldn’t mind.

  He smiled. “Okay, honey, then break a leg.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, sure.” Then I ducked out into the rain and sprinted for the door.

  I’d purposely arrived about twenty minutes early, hoping to sort of settle in and get comfortable. But it was anything but comforting to find that the place was almost completely deserted. The only customer was a tired-looking mom with two preschoolers dressed up like a dragon and a pumpkin. And they just chased each other around the tables and squealed a lot while she quickly gulped down a cup of cappuccino.

  “Hi, Mike,” I said as I set my guitar case next to the small stage, which was now cleared of chairs and looked strangely empty and slightly intimidating with its solitary stool and lone microphone.

  “Wanna coffee?” he asked. “On the house.”

  “Sure. I’ll have a mocha.”

  I sat on a stool next to the counter and took a deep cleansing breath—to help me relax a little. It’s something my mom taught me to do as a little kid. “So, do you expect anyone to show up tonight?” I asked when he finally set the cup down in front of me.

  “Don’t know. It’s kinda sporadic around here. Some nights I’m about ready to shut the place down and suddenly it starts popping. Then other nights when I really expect a crowd, it’ll be deader than a doornail.” He grinned as he wiped down the counter. “Now, just how dead is a doornail anyway?”

  I shrugged. “Guess it’s not a real live wire.”

  He glanced toward the window. “Then we get this crummy weather tonight, plus it’s Halloween …” He shook his head. “Maybe it was a mistake on my part to schedule you at all.”

  “Oh, it’s okay.” I took a sip of my coffee and tried not to show my real disappointment. “I can just play around and think of it as a practice night.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, it helps to be laid-back around here.”

  Then the mom and her two kids left, and it was only Mike and me. “Well, I invited a couple friends to come by.” I smiled lamely.

  “Every little bit helps.”

  At eight o’clock, I stepped onto the stage and sat on the tall stool and started just quietly picking around on my guitar. A man and a woman had come in a few minutes earlier and were now seated over by the wall, as far from the stage as possible. Their heads were bent toward each other as they talked in hushed tones, as if they didn’t want to be disturbed. It was painfully clear they hadn’t come to see me. So for a few hour-long minutes, I pretended I was only there to play background music, and I tried to keep it low and calm.

  And really it wasn’t so bad. Okay, a little humiliating, I suppose, but then I hadn’t come here for some big ego trip either. Or so I kept telling myself. After about twenty minutes, a few more people drifted in, including Laura and several of her friends as well as Allie. And at around eight-thirty Cesar, Jake, and Spencer came in along with a couple of guys I don’t know too well. So the crowd was gradually increasing, and I decided it was time to actually play some real songs.

  “Hi, everyone,” I said into the mike, interrupting some chatter. “My name is Chloe, and I’m glad you decided to come out tonight, especially in this lousy weather. But then I guess the rain probably put a damper on your trick-or-treating anyway.” This brought a few snickers from some of the older crowd, but my friends kind of looked like they thought I was losing it. Then I started to play. At first it didn’t seem as though they were really paying much attention to me. Some people were ordering coffees and snitching candy from Mike’s trick or treat pumpkin, and others were just visiting.

  But by the time I ended the first song, it was getting quieter. And before long, it felt as if they were really there to hear me play. Even the secluded couple off to the side had stopped talking and were both looking my way. I got a little nervous then. And I wondered what everyone was thinking. Like were they just being nice because I was playing so badly that they felt sorry for me? I purposely didn’t allow much time to pause between songs, probably because I was so nervous and was afraid they might not clap. But usually they applauded then quieted down as I started again. Finally, after about six songs, I spoke into the mike again.

  “So, how’s it going out there?” And a few people (like my friends) tossed back some corny responses and I la
ughed.

  “Okay, it’s not like I’m fishing for compliments,” I said. “But this is my first time actually performing at the Paradiso. So what do you think? Am I doing okay, or are you wishing you’d brought along some rotten tomatoes?”

  Fortunately, their responses seemed fairly positive, so I continued for a few more songs until Mike came over and suggested I take a break. Now I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried then. Did he think I was messing up and wanted to shut me down? I knew I’d made a few mistakes on some of my songs, but I hoped no one had noticed but me.

  “Here, Chloe, have a glass of water,” he said. “You don’t want to overdo it, you know.”

  I sipped the water. “But am I doing okay?” I asked as I set the glass down.

  He grinned. “Sure, you’re great. You’re a natural.”

  “Really?” I stared at him with a mixture of wonder and relief. “You think so?”

  “Just relax and enjoy it.”

  So I went over and sat at the table with my friends. And to my relief, they all started saying how great I was doing. Oh, sure, they threw in a few good-natured jabs and sarcastic jokes, but mostly they seemed to really like it. Except for Allie, that is. She didn’t say anything. She kept fiddling with the handle on her coffee mug as if it was the most interesting thing in the whole room. And I could tell she was mad at me again. But I just didn’t see why. And frankly, it irritated me that she was acting that way. I mean, if the roles were reversed, I think I’d be happy and excited for her. At least I would hope to be. Anyway, I decided to just ignore her. Why should I allow her selfish moodiness and jealousy to spoil my evening?

  I went back up there and played for almost an hour, and the crowd actually started to grow as more people came in. And I don’t think it was my imagination that they seemed to warm up to me even more as the evening progressed. I have to say, it was one of the coolest moments of my entire life. It was like something just clicked inside of me. Like I knew without a doubt that this was what I was meant for. Maybe it was a God-thing.

  I played a varied selection of my songs, starting from my early ones that are full of questions and problems and, I’ll admit, complain a lot about love and life and loss, and all sorts of things. Then I moved into my more recent songs—the ones that involve searching and then finding God. Oh, I’m sure that most of the crowd didn’t even know exactly what the words meant because my lyrics can sound a little confusing sometimes. But then that’s okay. Hopefully, it gave them something to think about—if they wanted to, that is.