Haunted

by Merrill, R. L.

  We’d been chatting for about an hour I guess when Marcus looked at his watch and said, “Well, fellas, time to get to work!”

  They all groaned and stood up. Mage followed them, picking up some leftover trash. I stood to help him.

  “It’s ok, I got it.” He winked at me, took the trash from me, and carried it over to a small kitchenette I hadn’t noticed. He grabbed a bottle of water and gestured to me with a second bottle. I nodded, so he tossed it gently to me.

  “Thanks, Mage.”

  Marcus was chatting with Devon by the chair where he’d been working on the guitar. I stepped over, a little unsure whether they wanted their space or not.

  “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt, but if you guys are going to be practicing, do you want me hanging out or to get lost? Either way is fine.”

  Devon gave me that killer blue-eyed gaze of his and I had to catch myself before I reached up and checked my pulse. Marcus looked at him and then at me with an eyebrow raised.

  “We absolutely want you there, of course," Marcus said. “That’s the point of you being with us.”

  I nodded and figured I should give the full disclosure to him about my little habit.

  “I told Devon, but I should let the rest of you guys know that I sketch. A lot. I’ll try not to be intrusive, but I usually have a pencil and sketchbook with me all the time. Is that going to be too weird?” I should have known he would be fine with it. He kind of puffed up his chest a bit and gave me his best sultry-model face.

  “Sketch away, dahlin.”

  Devon gave him a shove and said, “C’mon, Fabio. Let’s get to work.”

  I bit back a laugh, Marcus looked perturbed and Devon just gave his half smile.

  I sighed. This was definitely going to be an interesting couple of weeks.

  Chapter Five

  I went to my room to grab my sketchbook and pencils and checked my phone. Mackenzie had already left me five text messages. I sent her a quick “I’m fine, I’m working, you should be too!” answer and dropped the phone on the bed. I didn’t want it distracting me so I wasn’t going to keep it with me.

  As I headed down the stairs, I could hear the guys starting to warm up their instruments. I was actually looking forward to watching their creative process. Live music was thrilling to me in any form. Being there while they created what would hopefully be another successful album would be a once in a lifetime experience!

  Star’s drum set was on the little stage. It was a stripped down set, probably not what he’d use live. The other guys were in a half circle around the front of the stage. Jade and Mage stood next to each other, tuning their guitar and bass. Devon was off to the other side with a collection of acoustic and electric guitars. He was warming up with a Les Paul, but I could also see a Fender Stratocaster, a Flying V and an Epiphone acoustic. My eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to his long fingers flying over the fretboard. He hadn’t plugged in yet so I couldn’t hear what he was playing.

  Plugged in. This might get loud. I looked around and at that moment, Mage walked over and handed me a box of earplugs. “Here. You might need these.”

  I thanked him. But if I was going to need earplugs, wasn’t everyone else going to hear? Then I noticed that egg crate foam was put up all along the windows in the front. Aha. That was how they hoped to keep folks from hearing what was going on. There were a couple of huge bean bags thrown over by the bar so I figured that would be a comfy place to watch. I could see them all fairly well from this vantage point. Marcus was lining up sheets of paper at the foot of the stage. Star was running through some beats and Jade and Mage had plugged in and were tuning.

  They started by playing a few instrumentals, perhaps some songs they were working on? The first one started out with a fast, pounding rhythm followed by Jade and Devon playing a harmony together that was reminiscent of an Iron Maiden or Judas Priest song. I could dig this for sure. There were a lot of changes and then they just kind of stopped. Ah. Not quite finished yet. Marcus was just bobbing his head along, writing occasionally. The second piece was a slow groove that had Devon playing a very soulful intro. It reminded me of something Slash would have played on later Guns tracks. Marcus was watching him, not bobbing his head this time. Instead, he was studying him with a frown on his face. Jade and Mage were following along, eyes closed a bit. Star was playing a soft, almost jazz-like rhythm, not overpowering to the melody.

  Marcus appeared to grow increasingly impatient, finally motioning for Devon to stop. “Ok, ok. I’m just not sure what you want me to do with that one, D.”

  Devon just shrugged and walked over to a stool to get a drink of water.

  “It is what it is, Marcus. You want us to work on stuff. This is what I came up with. It’s just where my head’s at right now.”

  Wow, if that’s where his head was, it was a bluesy and beautiful place. I figured I shouldn’t play the cheerleader right now, but if I were I’d say Go Team Devon!

  Marcus walked back over to his papers and then grabbed one of the guitars by Devon. “I was thinking something more like this.” He played a riff that sounded squealy and full of feedback to me, but that was my uneducated ear. He repeated it and looked over at the other guys, who were kind of scratching their heads. They fell into a supporting groove with him. His playing was in the realm of earsplitting but he had some talent. It just didn’t seem as natural as it did with Devon. Or was I choosing sides? Bad, bad. I couldn’t do that, I was supposed to be observing. But what I was seeing was some major tension coming off two friends that were in totally different places musically, for sure. Maybe those differences could be seen in other ways, too.

  I picked up my sketchbook and started to draw. I was listening to them start to argue and found myself drawing a heart split in two. One side had jagged edges. The other just seemed to melt toward the bottom of the page. Then I was doodling and each side of the page became distinctive. One side was filled with anxiety and frustration, the other with sadness and despair.

  After a while I started hearing some familiar tunes. It seemed Devon was trying to teach the guys to play a blues riff. I didn’t know whose it was originally, but I liked it. Jade and Mage joined in with Star supplying the rhythm. Eventually Marcus started to play, although he still seemed frustrated. He wore his guitar slung low and his movements were kind of jerky compared to Devon, who was loose, his limbs hanging low. I didn’t know what had come between them, or why the rift, but I was sure it wasn’t going to be pleasant for anyone to discuss.

  The guys played for another couple of hours with a few breaks in between for smokes out back. Through it all I just sketched each of them playing their instruments and tried to capture what their essence brought to the group. Devon’s and Marcus’ were probably the most detailed, though, because it was obvious that the root of their problem was something between them.

  Star came over during one of the breaks and flopped down into the beanbag next to mine. He was trying to look over my shoulder with subtlety. He had zero. Marcus and Devon had gone outside together and the other two were grabbing drinks from behind the bar, stretching their hands and arms out.

  I handed my sketchbook to Star with a sly smile and said, “If you want to see my drawings, Star, you just have to ask. They’re all going to belong to you anyway.”

  He blushed and said, “That obvious? I’m sorry. I’ve just always wished I could draw. I was never any good at it.” He started to flip through the pages and blew a breath out in a whistle.

  “Damn. Jaylene these are amazing! You totally got us all! Where did you learn to draw like this?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, around I guess. I had a few classes, but I never did well in them because I wanted to do my own thing, you know? I probably had lower grades in my art classes than anything else because the teachers were always like ‘You have so much potential, Jaylene, blah blah blah, if you’d just do it like this.’”

  He nodded in agreement.

  “Totally! You should
have seen us in music class. Our band teacher hated us, huh Jade?”

  Jade wandered over to us and asked if he could look at my book, too.

  “Of course. I told Marcus and Devon it’s a habit of mine. I draw all the time. Sometimes they turn into something, sometimes it’s just a way for me to process what’s going on around me.”

  He was looking at one drawing in particular thoughtfully.

  “That’s so weird, that’s how you see us? That’s so cool though, isn’t this cool? Mage! Dude, come check this out. You look fuckin’ crazy dude, look at this one.”

  Mage came over with a cup of coffee in his hand and peered over Jade’s shoulder. In the drawing of Mage for some reason I’d added swirls around him like a cyclone of energy and up above them there was a face with hollow eyes. It was kind of freaky, but like I always say, I draws ‘em like I sees ‘em.

  “No shit, really?” He looked from the book, to me, and back. “Jaylene, these are really deep. You can really see us.” His eyes met mine, searching. “You sure you don’t have any of the Gift in you, eh?”

  I frowned back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It doesn’t always have to be about that freaky shit, Mage. You are going to scare her off.” Jade was looking worried so I shook my head.

  “Jade, it’s fine. His beliefs are his beliefs and that’s cool. It doesn’t bother me. I’ve heard a lot of peoples’ views on things, and it’s like, whatever rings true for them? We all have to find our way, right?”

  Mage was looking at me like he’d just had an epiphany.

  “Yesssss. See? That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you assholes since 7th grade and you just gotta see everything like skeptics. Haven’t you ever seen something or been through something that you just couldn’t explain? Like it had to be something else, man?”

  Star and Jade just groaned.

  “He’s right, I think. There’s a lot that goes on that there’s no good explanation for, true Mage. And hey, the way I look at it is if people believe in something, it gives it power, so I try to suspend disbelief. It is what it is.”

  Their looks weren’t as disgusted when they looked back at Mage this time. Maybe they were seeing things through his eyes. Then Mage hurriedly turned and ran over to pick up his bass.

  “Hey Jade, come check this out.”

  The two of them put their heads together and started on that demented musician speak Devon had warned me about. I just watched the magic happen. Star wandered around them slowly and climbed back up to his drum set. The beginnings of a riff were coming together when Marcus and Devon came back in. Marcus looked pissed, Devon just looked sad.

  The three continued to play and the music began to get faster and faster. Star was pummeling the drums. But instead of the shrill sound I’d heard when Marcus had started them off, this was powerful. The kind of stuff you could feel in your gut. I couldn’t help but bob my head a little. Devon wordlessly picked up his guitar and caught up to them. In a few eight counts he started playing notes all over the place complementing what Mage and Jade were laying down. Marcus’ face went from angry to engrossed. He just stood there engaged at a pretty deep level.

  So that’s how it happened. That was how a metal band wrote a song. Or at least I was seeing the beginnings of how a song comes together. They started it over, Mage said a few things to Devon, who just nodded, and they played it out for a solid seven or eight minutes until Marcus waved them off.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about! I sure fucking hope someone remembered to turn on the recorder.”

  Star raised a hand and they all thanked him. Mage was writing things down quickly, the chords I guess. I had no idea. This was all foreign to me.

  “Mage I’m going to listen to that and see what I can come up with for lyrics. Nice work.”

  Mage seemed very pleased with the compliment. My guess was that those didn’t come often from Marcus, or at least not recently.

  Marcus walked over to me then and said, “Now that is what we are trying to accomplish. This is how it’s supposed to work. It just hasn’t for a bit. Maybe you are our good luck charm!” He glanced down at my sketchbook that was forgotten in this creative burst. The drawing of Mage was still on top. Marcus bent down and picked it up, looking at it closely.

  “Can I borrow this?”

  I nodded, “Sure. It’s all yours. Just take it out.”

  He carefully ripped out the page, looked at the drawing of Star, on which I’d added silly devil horns, and he laughed. “Yeah, I guess you really do see us. Star, she’s already got you figured out.”

  Star blushed and played a silly drum roll. The tension dissipated and the camaraderie of earlier was back.

  I stood up and stretched, stiff from being hunched over my sketchbook for the better part of two hours. But I felt good. I felt like I could illustrate what was going on and they could see it from an outside perspective. No words, no judgments. Just pictures. I giggled, thinking about those “artist’s renderings” from court sessions and hoped there wouldn’t be any drawings of angry conversations. I’m not much good with confrontations. I tend to be a bit passive. I didn’t like it when the guys were mad at each other. If I could get it out through my drawings, then I could process it better and maybe so could they.

  The guys went back upstairs to watch TV and play video games. I decided to do some exploring. I knew there was a back patio and I wanted to get a breath of fresh air. I thought that would be appropriate considering the afternoon we just had.

  I walked back between the bar and the stage into a narrow hallway. I could hear kitchen sounds, so I thought I’d take a peek. Devon was in the kitchen with an older woman who was peeling potatoes and singing to herself. Devon was washing dishes and for some reason it didn’t seem out of character for him to be doing that. It seemed almost natural. Could it be he knew his way around the kitchen?

  “Hey,” I said to announce my intrusion. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  Devon turned around and looked from the woman to me. He walked over to the door, wiping his hands off on the back of his black jeans.

  “Jaylene Charles, this is my mother, Marie Doucette Boudreaux.” The woman turned around and gave me an all-business handshake. I tried not to react. Boudreaux? That was Devon’s last name? Did that mean Margaret was his wife? It would make sense why he was so full of sorrow. That thought hit me like a punch in the gut. I tried to shake it off and make nice.

  His mother was thinner and taller than me, probably 5’10”, with black hair streaked gray in a messy bun on top of her head. She was wearing a black t-shirt with the name 'Houma City Bar and Grill' on the front, and a pair of khaki Bermuda shorts.

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Boudreaux.”

  She smiled at me and said, “You as well, Miss Charles. I’ve heard a lot about you from that rascal brother of mine, Daryl. He speaks highly of you and your work.” She glanced at my arms and hid any displeasure she might have had at my tattoos. That was a welcome reaction.

  “Thank you. Daryl has been very kind to me since I arrived here. I couldn’t have opened my shop without him.” She smiled and nodded.

  “He does a lot for the people he cares about. He took care of us after my husband passed. Helped me keep the business open, he did.” She smiled but there was that sadness I’d grown used to with Devon in her eyes.

  If he’d lost his father that could explain some of the sadness, but it seemed deeper than that.

  “I was actually just trying to shoo Devon out of the kitchen. Maybe you could encourage him to let me be?”

  Devon looked at his mother with his half smile. “I guess I know when I’m not wanted. I was just trying to help, Mama.”

  His drawl was a bit more pronounced in here with her. It was sweet to see him with his mother. He obviously cared deeply for her.

  She snapped a towel at him and said, “You aren’t here to work in the kitchen, son. You’re here to make music with dem b
oys. You run along with Miss Charles here.”

  He walked over and kissed her on top of her head. “Don’t work too hard, Mama. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you and help you feed those monsters.”

  She laughed and waved us off. “Ain’t nothing I can’t handle, son. You go on now, I’ve got this under control.”

  She was friendly, but reserved, and I could see a lot of her in Devon. She was a beautiful woman, probably in her early 50’s, but you could tell she’d worked hard in life by the slight bend in her back and the tired lines on her face. Her beautiful blue eyes shone just as brightly as his, and were just as intense. I hoped I’d have more of a chance to talk to her. Maybe she could help me understand just what they’d all been through.

  “It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Boudreaux and please, let me know if I can help. I’m not a great cook, but I can bake a little.”

  She waved me off and said, “Nonsense, you young’uns go enjoy yourselves. Dinner will be in about an hour.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  Devon motioned for me to leave the kitchen before he did, always the gentleman, and I thanked him. He leaned back in the door to say something to his mother and I heard her say, “You a good boy, son. Go have some fun.” He shook his head and then we were in the hallway facing each other.

  “I was just, um, exploring a little. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  He looked at me questioningly, looked back at the kitchen. “Oh, no, you weren’t interrupting. I was just trying, rather unsuccessfully, to help my mother in the kitchen. You might have noticed she didn’t want my help. She’s like that, I guess, always trying to do for everyone.”

  I smiled at him. “I guess that’s where you must get it from? Or does it just run in your family because I know Daryl is just the same. Well, he doesn’t cook too well from what I’ve experienced.”