John watches her go. “She’s a bit sensitive, isn’t she?”
“Well, we had a … moment … a while ago, and she’s not sure what to think about it.”
“You mean like a moment-moment?”
“Not quite like that, but we … kissed. More to prove a point to Mara, but we kissed.”
“Hot damn! I told you it would be all right.” He claps me on the shoulder.
I frown. “Having her best friend turn into her boyfriend isn’t her thing.”
“Too bad. Guess there’s not much you can do about it.” He points at the CD player. “But you’ve got more pressing matters—like dead air.”
“Pardon me, fans, listen to the big old pause. Chalk it up to live clowns in the studio. Time now for some Chuck Brodsky, and his song called ‘Radio.’ I know, I know, repetitive titles. But enjoy it anyway.”
Once I’m done, I tell John to steer the ship while I go find Paige. Not like she’s disappeared—she’s gone no farther than the back door, and she’s smoking a cigarette, something she never does.
“Where’d you get that?” I pull it out of her fingers and put it out.
“John left his pack down here.” She shows me his Marlboros and my Zippo. “You really need to watch your mouth.”
“Can I help it?” I try to keep it light. “I wanted that kiss to mean something, and you shot me down.”
She’s turned away from me, lighting another one. “I didn’t shoot you down. I just told you it’s not possible.”
“Why not?” I grab my Zippo back from her. “It could work.”
“Yeah, well … boyfriends are easy to find. Best friends …
not so much.” Her eyes are soft, even if her words are trying to be hard, and she’s close to tears. Paige does not get close to tears.
Even though I don’t want to, I hear her. Then I hold out my hand. “Would you please come inside?”
She stubs out her butt and puts it in the ashtray, then takes my hand.
John’s excited when we get back to the studio. “I talked to the UCB! I told them to get ready for your visit, and that you couldn’t wait to meet them, and then I played Conway Twitty.” He’s quite pleased with himself.
“You have your own show, dude.”
“Yeah, but it’s the UCB! And there was no dead air—did I ever tell you my best no-dead-air story?” He settles into the legend. “It was Halloween, 1962 or so, and I was on the second floor of a building in San Diego, watching the crowd downtown have a huge outdoor Halloween party. They were watching me, too.”
“Did you have a costume?” Paige wants the details.
He gives her a look. “Just a mask. But that doesn’t matter.”
He sails on. “There was a balcony on our floor, and I went out to get some candy and wave at folks, and I locked myself out. Can you believe that? Here I was, pockets full of Halloween candy and a minute left on my song, and no way to get back to the studio!”
“Did you have to call someone?” I can picture John eating Halloween candy and waving to people in the street below, then cursing his head off when he realizes the door is locked.
“Nope. I jumped off the balcony, scraped my hands when I landed, twisted my ankle, lost all my Halloween candy, tore open a window with my bare hands, which made them even more bloody, then climbed in the building and ripped two doors off their hinges to get inside the studio. With no dead air. I even had enough breath to talk before I put on the next record.”
“Which was?” I know he’ll know.
“ ‘Searchin’,’ by the Coasters. Pretty good story, huh? That’s me, ol’ Super DJ.”
Paige doesn’t quite believe him, but I do. While she grills him about the heroic leap off the balcony, I give the UCB more songs to dance to. Then we get to the final cuts. “All right, listeners, you’re full of radio songs now. Let’s close out our night with two more bursts of energy, both of them dedicated to the old-school humongous-ass AM stations in Mexico. Here’s ‘Heard it on the X’ from ZZ Top, and ‘Mexican Radio’ from Wall of Voodoo. See you next week, listeners. This is Gabe, signing off of Beautiful Music for Ugly Children, right here on community radio 90.3, KZUK. I’m off to claim my B side.”
Even though they’re not quite my flavor, ZZ Top makes me smile. Nothing like Texas rock at one a.m.
John’s shoving CDs in their cases and gathering everything into the crate. “UCB, here we come!”
Paige turns to me. “Ready to meet your fan club?”
“Not really.” My stomach feels like I’ve swallowed my pepper spray.
“They’ll love you because you look so good. Who’s your personal shopper?” It’s the first smile I’ve seen out of her all night.
“Her name is Paige, and she’s really good. Just don’t kiss her.”
“What’s this I hear about kissing?” John’s shutting lights off while making sure Marijane is gardening her butt off. He elbows me in the side, and Paige sees him.
“NOBODY. SAID. ANYTHING. ABOUT. KISSING.” Each pause is punctuated by a whack over the head with Paige’s handbag, which is big enough to hide a small child in, and that must be what she has in there because it’s heavy and it hurts.
We pile in John’s Caddy. Paige is in the back seat, and I hope she doesn’t decide to hit me again with whatever’s in that bag. John tells us more about his radio days. Jumping off a balcony and locking himself out for Halloween candy is one of the less stupid things he did.
“Do you know where you’re going? You’re two streets west of where you need to be.” Paige sounds like a diva actress directing her driver somewhere.
“Sorry.” John’s turning corners, getting back to where we need to be. “I thought they were expecting him at 1:30.”
“That may be, but he still can’t be late.”
It’s only 1:15, and I hadn’t even noticed we were on the wrong street because I’m too busy trying to figure out what to do if they all laugh at me.
Suddenly we’re there. I close my eyes and ask the universe for fifteen seconds of goodness. Just fifteen seconds.
When I open my eyes, I see a crowd by the graffiti wall. Maybe twenty people. Not sixty-eight, but not ten.
My legs are shaking. I don’t know if I can do this.
John parks, hops out, and opens my door before I get my brain together. “Presenting … Gabe!”
They could throw eggs, or cold spaghetti, or rocks.
But one person starts to clap. Then another. Then they’re all clapping, long and loud, like it’s 1954 and I’m Elvis. John and Paige are whistling and cheering right along with them. The only thing I can think to do is bow, so I do.
These people like Gabe. Me.
Then everyone stops looking and starts chatting again. People are coming over. A guy hands me a cup full of something that smells like Hawaiian Punch with a distinct alcohol edge. “Don’t drink it too fast. It’s pretty strong.” He walks off while another girl points me toward a bunch of chip bags, Subway sandwich wrappers, and Oreo cookie packages laid out on top of a car hood. “If you’re hungry.”
Then someone grabs me, and it’s Bobby X. “You’re crazy good. How do you find all that shit?” He’s more animated than I’ve ever seen him.
I nod toward John. “My neighbor is a DJ too.”
Bobby X actually shakes my hand. “You’re awesome, Liz. Gabe.” And he wanders off.
Then Marci Anderson comes up to me. We’ve been in at least one class together every semester since ninth grade. “Why didn’t you ever tell anybody about Gabe? He’s really interesting!” Then she blushes. “I mean, you. You’re really interesting. Sorry.”
“It’s not the easiest thing to tell someone.”
She blushes again. “Your show’s great.” She scurries away.
After that, nobod
y calls me Liz. I chat with people, and sometimes I hear myself laughing. Like honest-to-god laughing, because people are saying funny things, and I feel comfortable, so I laugh. It feels so good. Liz never laughed.
Paige, of course, is in her element, flirting with everyone. John’s having a good time, too, chatting and laughing and eating chips like they’ll disappear out of stores tomorrow. Nobody minds talking to him, because he’s doing his best to be his charming DJ self. I wonder if he introduced himself when he was on the air.
I scan the crowd—no Heather. That’s probably good. I see Mara standing over by the car-hood table, and she’s by herself so I decide to talk to her. I’ve been thinking about this for a while.
She’s grabbing some Oreos, so I reach over her hand to snag one. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Oh! Hi, uh … hi, Gabe.” I can see her cheeks get red, even under the streetlight. “Um … how are you?”
“Really fine, actually. I need to thank you.”
“For what?” It’s obvious this isn’t what she was expecting to come out of my mouth.
“For outing me. You shoved me off the cliff. Turns out I can fly.” God, that’s dorky. But it’s what it feels like.
“Oh. Well. I guess you’re welcome.” She walks away with her handful of Oreos and a backward glance over her shoulder. I can tell she thinks I’ve lost it. I probably have.
All of a sudden I hear a voice yell, “Get the hell out of here!” from somewhere behind me. Then I’m shoved in the shoulder and a different voice says in my ear, “What a waste of humanity!”
When I whirl around, I realize the voice in my ear is Scream, who’s standing behind me. Jason is walking toward me from the outside of the circle, baseball bat in hand. The crowd noise starts to die as people see the two of them, looking out of place and creepy in their masks.
“Stop it, guys. If you leave, there won’t be trouble.” This voice belongs to a guy I don’t know. He’s walking towards me and Scream, arms out in a let’s keep the peace gesture. “Please just go.”
Jason stops the guy with a raised hand. “We’re just here to talk.”
“With a baseball bat? Just go and nobody gets hurt.” Keep the Peace Guy is serious. Nobody else in the crowd has moved a muscle.
“We want a word with It, all right? We’ve told her for a long time we’d be coming to find her.” Scream reaches out and grabs my elbow, but his hand is instantly removed.
“You’ve got no business here.” It’s John. “I’m calling the cops if you don’t leave now.”
“Listen here, old fart, it’s obvious you think It’s precious.” Jason just can’t shut up. “We, on the other hand, want to help It.”
“Go crash someone else’s party.” John doesn’t want to fight, but he will, in an instant. I can see it in his face.
“You shouldn’t post your party times on public places like Facebook.”
I look to see where Paige is, and she’s next to the car-hood table. She’s safe there. Her eyes are enormous.
I point at Jason. “Thought you were coming to my house last week. We had Popsicles for you.”
Scream grabs my arm again and tries to pull me to him. “Fucking gender-bender dipshit. Get your ass over here.”
I try to rip my arm back from him. “Take off your masks, chickenshits. When you attack a man, do it with your real face.”
Jason throws his mask on the ground and it’s Paul Willard. “You stole my girlfriend, asshole. And you lied to us.”
I start to laugh. “Everybody standing here knows who I am. There’s no lying going on. And losing your girlfriend’s not my fault. You have to read her texts to find out she’s not that into you?”
“Shut up!”
“Or are you pissed she wanted a guy like me?”
Paul’s in front of me now, and I can see the effect of those words. He shoves me in the chest with the end of the bat, hard enough that my body slams into John, who’s right behind me. “Ever see American History X ? Skinhead slams a black kid’s head on a curb.”
Scream grabs my hair. “Your turn. Right here. Right now.”
Keep the Peace Guy yells and starts toward me. “Let go of him!”
John’s pulling me away from Scream. Then I hear the bat connect.
And John goes down.
Hands restrain me, holding me back from killing Paul and Scream. At some point I realize I’m yelling but I’m not saying any words. Once the crowd clears, I can see that Paul’s on the ground. The baseball bat is next to him. Keep the Peace Guy has his foot on Paul’s throat, and there’s blood on his hands and Paul’s face.
The Scream mask is next to Paul on the ground, and next to the Scream mask is Kyle Marshall. Nobody’s got a foot on Kyle because he’s out cold.
Paige is kneeling beside John. Someone’s turned him over so he’s on his back. I break away from whoever’s got me and stumble toward them. Once I fall next to Paige, I can see the utter stillness on John’s face, like someone’s sucked out his being and left his sack of bones behind. When I concentrate on his chest, I see it rise. Barely. There’s no blood. Just an empty, barely breathing sack of bones.
“Has anybody called 911?” My brain’s so numb that I’m making sense. “An ambulance?”
Paige can’t talk because she’s weeping so hard, but she nods. She strokes John’s hair and I take his hand, watching his chest and how slow it’s moving. Nobody says a word, though I can tell people are shifting around us. But it’s my job to watch John’s chest. If I lose my focus, it won’t go up and down anymore.
Finally, finally, finally the ambulance roars up. They put John’s stillness on the gurney and sweep him away, lights blazing and sirens crying.
Then the cop cars show up, making just as much noise as the ambulance, and Keep the Peace Guy lets Paul off the ground so the cops can take him. Kyle is awake now, so he gets shoved in the cop car, too. I’m apologizing to everyone standing around, and they’re patting me on the shoulder, it’s not my fault, things will be okay, things will be just fine. All I can see in my mind’s eye is John. So still.
From the back seat of the cop car, Paul yells at me. “You brought this all on yourself, fuckwad! You and your he-she-it bullshit!”
In spite of everything, I laugh. “A dude with a pussy swiped your girlfriend. How hilarious is that?”
I really must be a guy if other guys want to fight me.
An officer approaches me. “Can we talk to you … sir?” It’s the one from when John and I went to the cop shop the first time, the one who spent the whole time sneering.
“I need to get to the hospital.”
“We’ll follow you there.” The squad car drives away with Paul and Kyle in it, and the cop gets in the other one to wait for me.
I feel I like should say something to the crowd before I go. They’re around me in a wide circle.
“I … well … the Ugly Children Brigade is over. No more radio show.”
“You can’t do that!” From my left.
“No way, Gabe.” From my right.
“We won’t quit.” From behind me.
Then there are more shouts of “Don’t stop now” and one “Fine, I’ll be the DJ instead.”
Paige waves her hands around. “Don’t listen to him. He’s not talking sense right now.”
I head for John’s Cadillac, hoping the keys are in it instead of in John’s pocket, and Keep the Peace Guy meets me at the car. “I’m Jake Richmond.” He sticks out his hand and I shake it. “I’m really sorry.”
“Thanks for sticking up for me.” I’m not sure what else to say.
“Sure.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“So?” He looks at the blood on his hands. “Hope your grandpa’s okay.”
“Um
… yeah. Me too.” We shake hands again. Then Paige gets in the front seat while I grab the keys from the ashtray, where I thought they’d be, and we drive John’s big boat of a Cadillac to the hospital, police car trailing us.
On the way, I look down and realize Paul’s blood is on me, from where Jake shook my hand. Then my brain shorts out, and I start to hyperventilate. Paige makes me pull over, and then the cop comes and looks in our window.
“Can’t you see he’s having a panic attack?” Paige screeches at the guy.
I try and breathe normally. “Give me a second.”
“Take your time, sir.” The cop looks less like a smartass, watching me struggle to breathe, and he goes back to his car with a few glances over his shoulder.
I get it together and get back on the road to the hospital.
“Who was Paul’s girlfriend?” A tiny voice from the corner of the front seat.
“Heather Graves.” I keep my eyes on the road.
“She texted you?”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell did those texts say if he was that mad at you?”
No way am I going to tell her.
“Fine. Don’t tell me.” Silence. “But she dumped a guy every other month.”
“Maybe so, but nobody wants the trans man to steal their girlfriend.”
She snorts. “A guy with a pussy.” Then a pause. “Were you going to go out with her?”
“I turned her down.” I reach out for her hand with my bloody one, and she takes it.
Silence. We drive.
“I hope John’s all right.” The tears are trickling down her face.
“Yeah.” That’s all I can say, or I’ll lose it.
By the time we get to the hospital, John’s been there for at least half an hour. The cops meet us at the front door, and we answer all the cops’ questions. Yes, they threatened us in the parking lot of KZUK. Yes, we reported them a few weeks ago, and so did Frank at Video Rewind when they came back to attack Paige. Yes, they threatened my family. No, they never showed up. Yes, we’ll testify in court. All I can think about is John’s stillness.
Beautiful Music for Ugly Children Page 17
