Mixtape for the End of the World

by Andrew J Brandt

  ♪ ♪ ♪

  “You’re going to have to tell mom,” Cassandra said from the couch in the living room. She had plopped down, her math book sprawled open on the coffee table in front of her, a notebook in her lap.

  “I know, but I can wait til they come back on Wednesday,” Derrick said as he pulled two bottles of Josta from the fridge. He tossed one to AJ, who leaned against the kitchen counter. Derrick noticed how neither AJ nor his sister looked at each other, both seemingly pretending the other didn’t exist. Derrick, however, decided to keep this observation to himself. “No need to piss her off when she’s five hundred miles away.”

  “She’s going to lose it either way.” Cassandra said.

  “Well, I’d rather her lose it after the return instead of having to get bitched out twice. Once on the phone and again when they get back.”

  Cassandra rolled her eyes and went back to watching TRL.

  Derrick knew she was right though. For the first time in almost two months, he and AJ walked home after school, and AJ came over to hang out and play music. He wanted Dustin to come over to make it a real jam session, but their drummer couldn’t make it because he had to work after school. Derrick then reasoned that having a full band practice might bring too much attention to the house, something he didn’t want since they were officially not allowed to have friends over. He and Cassandra had an understanding—as long as they didn’t do anything to get caught, they’d have a friend or two come hang out while their parents were gone.

  The two bandmates decided to work out some new songs together, and have them ready for their drummer by the weekend. Sunday was their normal practice day, but on the walk home, AJ had said that he wanted to keep their stuff “fresh.”

  Out in the garage, Derrick plugged his guitar into the amplifier and switched it on, a static hum emanating from the speaker. He strummed a few chords on his guitar and messed with the tuners on the headstock of the Telecaster while AJ plucked the strings of his bass. His hands felt tender and his knuckles ached as he played the instrument.

  “I still can’t believe you hit Ty like that,” AJ said.

  Derrick shrugged. “I just snapped. I’ve had it with him. I’ve been mad at him ever since I met him. And then that stunt he pulled at the pool party at the beginning of the year. Then today, I was mad when I saw your face and what he’d done to you. But then when he started talking trash in the hallway, I lost it. I dealt with that kind of stuff back in Clearwater, and I don’t want to put up with it here.”

  “Well, I feel bad now though,” AJ said. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “It’s not bad. I didn’t get suspended or anything. But, I won’t be able to participate in the tennis tournament this weekend. Which is a good thing. I would rather practice for the talent show.” He stretched his left hand, the one he’d used to punch Ty in the face, and shook it out.

  “Are you okay, dude?” AJ asked worriedly.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” Derrick said. He went back to playing a riff to a song that they’d written and tried to push the pain in his hand to the back of his mind. “It’s just a little sore.”

  “Does it hurt?” AJ stopped playing and watched Derrick.

  “No, not really. A little, but it’s okay. Let’s play that new one,” he said.

  He ripped into the riff, the guitar blaring through the amp. It sounded okay without the drums, and AJ’s bass helped fill in some of the gaps in the notes. It was also sloppy, his fingers unable to properly fret the notes. Derrick stopped and shook out his hand again.

  AJ stopped as well, the blaring instruments dying to a gentle hum again. “You don’t look good, dude. I think your hand is messed up.”

  “It’s just bruised,” Derrick said. “It’ll be fine.” He knew he was lying, though. As much as he wanted it to just be bruised, he could tell that something was wrong, that he’d really done some damage to himself in the process of beating up the bully.

  “If you say so.” AJ shrugged and then turned the volume knob on the bass back up. “Oh, check this out.” He messed with the knobs on his amplifier until it produced a fuzzy, overdriven sound. He played a fast riff and Derrick nodded his head in time.

  “What do you think?” AJ asked.

  “That sounds amazing,” Derrick said. “When did you come up with that?”

  “Yesterday,” AJ said. “I was hanging out with Dustin. He probably wouldn’t want me telling you, but he’s still pretty upset about his girlfriend and Ty. So we just hung out.”

  Derrick held his head down. He wished he’d been invited to hang out with them, but he could understand if AJ didn’t want to be around him. “I went to look for you, to apologize,” he said. “But you weren’t home.”

  “It’s okay,” AJ said. “I get that you were mad. If it were the other way around—if I had a sister and I caught you making out with her, I’d have been pretty pissed too.”

  “Well, I overreacted,” Derrick said. “Now play that again.”

  AJ smiled, turned his bass volume up and tore into the riff.

  Despite the pain in his hand, Derrick listened as AJ repeated the riff a couple of times and then started noodling around on the guitar, trying to find something that fit the fast and frenzy bass line. He opted to use a run of pinch harmonics to compliment the bass line instead of playing over it.

  “Yeah!” AJ yelled. “That sounds awesome!”

  Derrick continued playing the notes, pinching the string between his finger and pick as he plucked it to produce a high-pitched squeal from the guitar. Flipping the pickup selector on the Telecaster to the bridge pickup, the notes cut through the fuzz from the bass and he fell into a nice groove. The pain in his hand flared up, but he pushed it aside in his mind. This song, whatever it was that they were creating, was too good to give up.

  A pop from his amplifier pulled Derrick out of his concentration and the speaker began making a sound like loud static from a television.

  “What was that?” AJ asked, turning his bass down and staring at the amplifier.

  “I think I just blew my amp,” Derrick groaned.

  “Oh no.” AJ said in the same tone.

  Squatting in front of the grey mesh speaker box, Derrick fumbled with the controls on the front of the amplifier, but didn’t get it to do anything other than hum and buzz. He fell down onto the floor in the garage and held his head in his hands.

  “Yup,” he said. “It’s blown.”

  “What can we do?” AJ asked.

  Derrick shrugged. “Does Sherman’s work on amplifiers?”

  “I don’t know,” AJ said. “Probably. They work on guitars.”

  Inside the house, Derrick went to find the phone. Cassandra was in her room, talking with one of her friends, and she waved him off.

  “Cass, please,” he said. “It’ll just take a minute.”

  “Ugh,” Cassandra said into the phone. “Let me call you right back. My little brother has to make a call.” She hung up and tossed it at him. “Hurry it up,” she said as he caught the cordless handset.

  The phonebook was stuffed in one of the drawers in the kitchen, and after he found it, Derrick looked up the number to the music store while AJ sat at the kitchen counter, chewing on the calluses on his fingertips.

  Derrick held the device to his ear as the phone rang.

  “Sherman’s,” a voice said on the other end. It was an elderly voice, spoken through vocal cords long ago fried by Pall Malls and booze.

  “Hi, I think I blew the speaker in my amp,” Derrick said. “Do you guys work on guitar amplifiers?”

  “No we don’t.” The answer was curt.

  “Oh. Okay then,” Derrick said. “Do you know anyone in town that does?”

  “Eh, there’s a guitar player in town that might do it,” the voice on the phone said.

  “Do you have his information?” Derrick asked.

  “Yeah, hang on.” The handset on the other end of the line was set down and Derrick could hear a r
ustling. Then, the voice came back. “Alright, kid. The guy’s name is Ben Barnes. You ready for the number?”

  Derrick said yes, and scribbled the digits in the gutter of the open yellow pages. He thanked the man on the phone and hung up.

  “This is great,” Derrick said to AJ. “I know this guy.”

  From the other end of the house, Cassandra called out, “Are you done yet, fartbreath?”

  “Just a minute!” Derrick yelled as he dialed the number he’d gotten from Sherman’s.

  The line rang twice before the voice on the other end said, “Hello?”

  “Hi, is this Ben?” Derrick asked.

  “Depends on who’s asking.”

  “My name is Derrick. I think I met you at Sherman’s yesterday.”

  “Oh yeah.” Ben’s voice went from aloof to inviting. “What’s going on, man?”

  “Hey, I got your number from Sherman’s. I called up there because I blew my guitar amp, and they said you might work on them.”

  “Yeah. Tell me what happened,” Ben said.

  Derrick explained how the amplifier popped and then made the static noise.

  “Yeah, sounds like you damaged the cone,” Ben said. “Do you have a car?”

  Derrick told him that no, he didn’t.

  “Alright. Give me your address, I’ll come pick it up after my girlfriend gets home from work,” he said.

  Derrick told him the address and thanked him and, after they hung up, took the phone back to Cassandra.

  AJ looked at the clock and said he had to get home to do his chores before his mom got home.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” AJ said. “Don’t oversleep again.” He gave Derrick a lopsided grin.

  Derrick flipped him off. “My right hand is still good if you want some.”

  AJ grabbed his backpack and left. After he did, Derrick went to the refrigerator and put a bag of frozen peas on the knuckles of his left hand. He hoped it was just bruised and nothing more.

  16

  ♪ Incubus – Stellar ♪

  DERRICK WAITED IN the garage and a car, a Geo Metro that looked like a red jelly bean on wheels, pulled up to the curb in front of the house. Ben walked up the driveway and met Derrick at the open garage door.

  “Hey man,” Ben said with a handshake and fist bump. “Show me the amplifier.”

  Derrick pursed his lips, the pain in his hand rearing its head. He led Ben into the garage and he whistled. “Nice setup,” he said, appraising Dustin’s drum set.

  “Those belong to our drummer,” Derrick said.

  “You guys a trio?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah,” Derrick said.

  “Respect, man. Some of the greatest bands of all time are three-pieces. The Police, Rush, The Bee Gees.”

  “The Bee Gees?” Derrick asked.

  “Yeah, dude. The Bee Gees. Wrote some of the most amazing melodies ever created.”

  “I need to start listening to more music,” Derrick said. He couldn’t imagine someone who looked like Ben, with his beard and long hair to listen to The Bee Gees. He looked more like a Metallica guy.

  “Like I told you back at Sherman’s, the best thing you can do is listen to as much music as possible. Do you sing?”

  “No, our bassist is the singer.”

  “Nice, dude! Like Rush. I like it.”

  “Thanks,” Derrick said. He pointed at the Fender amplifier on the ground. “There it is,” he said.

  Ben knelt in front of the amplifier and examined it. “Fender Champion. Great little amplifier.”

  “Thanks,” Derrick said. “My stepdad bought it for me.”

  “Awesome. My stepdad never bought me anything,” Ben said. “He always told me I was wasting my time playing guitar. That I needed to get out there and learn a trade or a skill or something.” As he spoke, he turned the amplifier over and sniffed the back of it, near the power plug. “He was probably right.”

  “My stepdad has been pretty supportive,” Derrick said.

  “That’s a blessing, my man. Cherish that. Not everyone has supportive parents.”

  Ben turned the amplifier in his hands, checking out the switches. He powered it on and played with the control knobs. “It powers on, that’s good. Doesn’t smell burned up. You probably damaged the speaker though. I can take it back home, crack it open and see if I can fix it.”

  “I really appreciate that,” Derrick said.

  Ben powered off the amp, unplugged it and lugged it out to his car. He placed it reverently in the passenger seat and turned back to Derrick. “Give me your number. I’ll call you when I have it fixed.”

  Derrick told him the number as he scratched it onto a slip of paper that he held against the hood of the car.

  “Alright little dude. I’ll get it back to you as quick as I can.”

  “Thank you again,” Derrick said. “And thank you for coming to get it.”

  “No worries, man. I have been in your shoes. Glad I get to help a little brother.” He waved as he got into his Geo Metro. As he drove off, the engine in the little car buzzed like a weed eater.

  Derrick went back inside the house and Cassandra stood at the door. “Who was that?” she asked.

  “That’s Ben. I blew my amplifier. I met him at the guitar store. He’s going to fix it for me,” he said.

  “He’s a hottie,” she said.

  “God, can I have just one friend that you’re not going to make out with?” Derrick said, immediately perturbed.

  “I already apologized for that,” she said with her trademark eyeroll.

  “I’m going to listen to music on the roof,” he said.

  “I’m going to make tacos,” she said, turning toward the kitchen.

  “Cool. I’ll eat later.”

  ♪ ♪ ♪

  The nights were getting colder, and as Derrick sat on the roof, he could see his breath puff out in front of him, momentary white clouds that dissipated with the next one. In his Walkman, he had the mixtape he’d made the day before from songs he’d spent all evening downloading and transferring to tape. The program on the computer that let him download the songs had opened up an entire catalog of music that he’d been wanting to listen to and create a mixtape with. He’d even found some rare Pearl Jam songs that he’d only heard once or twice before.

  He’d also made a tape for Haley. It was full of his favorite songs, the ones that made him think of her. He patiently waited for her on the roof so he could give it to her. Toying with the cassette between his fingers, spinning it on its axis, he imagined her joy at listening to it, knowing that every time he heard Vertical Horizon, or Incubus or Tal Bachman, he thought of her. The way she smiled at him, the way she sat close to him on this rooftop, staring up at the stars together and talking about life, god, death and family. On these rooftop nights, it was just them. And he was starting to feel things.

  For his entire life, girls existed, but he never noticed them. And then, one day, they were undeniable. Overnight, they went from someone’s sister, or someone’s cousin, to someone he wanted to be around constantly. An entire population of kids he’d gone to school with his entire childhood were suddenly something much more, yet undefinable.

  Haley was on another level, though. She was gorgeous, and smart, and down to earth, and sweet, and all these things that he would daydream about when he thought about the perfect girl.

  And she would spend these evenings, just like this one, right here with him. Even if he’d never met AJ, even if they’d never become friends, she’d made him forget all about Clearwater all by herself.

  A rustling in the grass below him made Derrick snap out of his daydream, and he leaned over the ledge of the roof. Haley was down there, her face framed between a hoodie and a headband that covered her ears.

  “Help me up,” she said, and he did.

  She sat next to him, and he could immediately tell that her body language was off. Hostile.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You’re wha
t’s wrong. I can’t believe you did that today. I thought about not coming up here, but I needed to tell you how I felt,” she said.

  Derrick’s heart fell into his stomach.

  “I was just taking up for my friend,” he said. “Did you see what Ty did to him? AJ’s got a black eye.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m not excusing what Ty did, but you attacking him like that was stupid. He’s not a bad guy, he just has some issues at home.”

  Derrick nearly did a double-take. Was she really standing up for the guy who made out with another girl at her own party? And then beat up AJ? Were they even talking about the same Ty Anderson?

  “How can you even say that?” he asked. “I mean, have you seen AJ?”

  “I’m not excusing him, Derrick. But, Ty is dealing with a lot of stuff, too.” She paused for a moment. “His mom and dad separated at the beginning of the summer. His dad came out to her, and now his dad lives in Dallas with his new boyfriend.”

  “Whoa.” Derrick stared out at the sky in front of them, the stars showing themselves the more he stared out. “But, still,” he said. “That doesn’t give him a free pass to be a dick.”

  “You’re right. And it doesn’t give you a free pass to be one either,” she said haughtily. “And Coach Vargas told me you’ve been suspended from the team.”

  “Is that so bad? I’m not any good anyway,” he said.

  “Yes you are! And that doesn’t even matter. Your spot was pretty much locked in for next semester, and now all our hard work is just thrown away. Once you get on Coach Vargas’s bad side, good luck getting back into the good.”

  Derrick shrugged. “I never wanted to play tennis in the first place,” he said. “I just wanted to try something new.”

  “And how is that working out for you?” Haley said. She was nearly yelling at him at this point, and she worked to keep her voice down. “I like being your friend. I like getting to hang out with you on trips and after school. But, I don’t want to if you’re going to do stupid stuff.”