Spin

by Colleen Nelson

  “Dad signed —”

  “I know what he did. He told me. He was looking out for you, Dizzy. Don’t think he had much of a choice, to be honest. I would have done the same as him.”

  “I wish I could meet her. I’ve got so many questions.”

  “You know,” he said gently, “she might not give you the answers you want. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but there’s a lot that went on with her and your dad. Sometimes it’s better to just let things go.”

  I frowned. Let things go? Georgia wasn’t a new pair of shoes I wanted to buy. She was my mom. I couldn’t let her go, not when she was so close. What if this was her final tour? What if it was my last chance to meet her? But I nodded and followed Donnie back inside the store. When Dad raised an eyebrow at me as if to ask, Everything okay? I nodded and gave him a weak smile, softening. Being mad at him for something he did ten years ago wasn’t going to bring Georgia back.

  If I wanted to see her, I had to start thinking creatively. She might not waltz into our lives, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t find her myself. While Dad, Donnie, and Lou milled around the store, I went upstairs, closing the door to the store behind me. A sold-out show didn’t mean it was really sold out. There were still tickets floating around at radio stations and with sponsoring companies. The trick was finding one.

  I pulled up Barney’s number and pressed Call. The first two rings went unanswered and I almost chickened out. I didn’t want him telling Dad. And if he did have a ticket, it meant going into the city by myself, which would be worth it, but was also daunting. But I wasn’t going to let a bus transfer stand in the way of seeing Georgia.

  Barney answered his phone on the third ring. “Yeah?” his gruff voice asked.

  “Hi, Barney. It’s Dizzy.”

  Instantly, his voice softened. “Hey there, Dizzy. What’s going on? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, a little breathless. “Um, I was wondering about something.”

  He grunted for me to continue. I could hear him inhale and figured he was out smoking.

  “The Georgia Waters concert is sold out, but, um, I was sorta hoping I could go. Because, you know …” I let my voice trail off. He could fill in the blanks.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Do you think you could look into a ticket? Or two? See if there’s anything out there?”

  He exhaled a deep breath and I could almost smell the cigarette smoke through the phone. “Your dad know about this?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and winced, wishing he hadn’t asked. “Not yet.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, okay? Not promising anything.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Barney.”

  “Okay, I’ll see ya.”

  I ended the call, my heart beating fast. Tickets for Maya and I would mean I was one step closer to seeing Georgia.

  - 30 -

  Lou

  “Is the letter for real?” Olivia got right to the point. She was sitting across from me at The Bean. Sunlight streamed in from the window on the street. Total cliché, but it lit up her hair like a halo and glinted off her glasses. She’d asked if we could meet before class to talk. My stomach dropped when I got her text, but I said yes anyway. Part of me expected her to ask if I was a pathological liar.

  I turned the coffee cup, fiddling with the handle. “Yeah, it’s real.” I was nervous to look at her. “I’ve never told anyone. Not even Jeremy.”

  “Why not?”

  “My dad. He doesn’t want people to know. And I get it. Our lives would change.”

  She blinked at me, thinking, probably trying to decide if I was being truthful or not. I tried to put myself in her position. What would I do if she told me she was the daughter of someone as famous as Georgia Waters?

  “I thought it was a joke. I had to read your letter three times. But then, I thought, why would he joke about this?”

  “I swear, it’s the truth.”

  She nodded. “It’s sad that she hasn’t come back. She seems really different in interviews.”

  I gave a snort of agreement. “You’re telling me.”

  Olivia gave me a sympathetic look. “It must be hard. To see her all the time. And her concert.”

  I shifted in my seat, glancing around, worried that someone would overhear, put things together. “I’ve tried to block it out, pretend she isn’t anything to me. That I don’t care.” But telling Olivia had made a crack in the wall I’d carefully crafted. It was at risk of crumbling. I thought of the final scene in The Elders of Warren; sometimes cages protected us, too.

  “I wanted you to know, because —” The words I wanted to say got stilted. “I just wanted things to be real between us, I guess. I wanted you to know everything about me. There’s something else,” I started. Her eyebrows shot up, like, What else could there be? “I never registered for Addison’s class. I’m not actually a student here. I snuck in the first time to check it out, and then I met you, and well, I kept coming.” The words came out in a tumble and I swallowed, waiting for her to say something.

  I watched her from across the table, waiting for a reaction. I’d come clean, about everything. Her lips curved into a smile. “Anything else you want to confess?”

  “No, that’s about it.”

  “Okay, then.” Olivia’s hand inched across the table toward mine, her grip, even though her fingers were delicate, was strong and sure.

  - 31 -

  Dizzy

  “Lou’s gone again?” I asked when I got to the store after school. I hadn’t seen him much lately. Usually, he was either working at the store or hanging out upstairs. Had my brother finally gotten a life? But as I hung my jacket on the coat hook by the door and walked past the poster display of Georgia, I wondered if it was being face to face with Georgia’s poster every day that was driving Lou away.

  Jeremy shrugged. “He takes off in the afternoons.”

  “To go where?” I asked. If anyone would know what my brother was up to, it would be Jeremy.

  He tilted his head at me, hesitating. “He’s taking a course.”

  “He is? In what?”

  Jeremy nodded. “Some kind of English course. Says he likes it.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me?” I asked, hurt. Usually, Lou and I shared that kind of information.

  “He’s just trying it out.”

  I was about to send him a text, bugging him for not telling me, when I noticed a tweet from my favourite radio station with my name in it. Next on guest host @DJErika’s playlist: 15-year-old @vinyltrap’s @DJDizzy #newtalent. I stared at it for a second, frozen, the words processing through my brain. Was this for real?

  “Jeremy? Look at this.” I showed him my phone. He had to hold my hand steady to read it, his glasses slipping down his nose. He turned to me, his face as shocked as mine must have been.

  We dashed for the sound system and flipped it to the radio. The customers in the store looked over. “They’re playing my song on the radio!” I bubbled.

  I sent a text to Maya and Lou. Erika is going to play my mix on the radio! Now!!!! The advertising jingle ended and DJ Erika’s voice filled the store. Over the radio, she sounded huskier than in real life. I imagined her in a chair, the big headphones covering her ears, leaning close to the microphone.

  “Hey, everyone in Radioland. This is Erika Vu, also known as DJ Erika. I’ll be spending the next hour sharing my favourite tracks with you. I thought I’d start things off with a great new talent. She’s only fifteen, if you can believe it, and from my neighbourhood. Her dad is a great sax player and owns The Vinyl Trap, one of the best vinyl stores I’ve ever been in. Lots of love to this girl. Take a listen. It’s DJ Dizzy with her track ‘Miss Georgia.’”

  My breath stuck in my throat. In half a second, my mix was going to be broadcast. I looked at Jeremy; his eyes were bugging out.

  The song started, the slow drum line and Georgia’s clear, unmistakable voice. The store had gone quiet as everyone listened. It was magical; there’s
no other way to describe the feeling of hearing music I’d created reaching people across the country, of having DJ Erika compliment me. I closed my eyes to savour every second of hearing my mix fill the store.

  When I opened them, the customers in the store clapped and cheered. I took a big gulp of air, as if I’d just surfaced. Hearing my song on the radio was a big deal, something that other DJs waited years for, and for lots, it never happened. “I can’t believe it.” I half-laughed. Jeremy held up his phone and snapped a photo. I must have been smiling in it, but the dazed feeling clung to me. My song had just been played on national radio.

  Maya sent back a gushing text and then a few other friends sent things, too. I knew that as word spread and the song was listened to on Mixcloud, there’d be more. It just took a second to send out a snap #radioplayedmysong #gonnabefamous #DJDizzy with a link to the show’s playlist. Jeremy’s photo of me went up on Snapchat, too.

  I floated through the next hour until the store closed. Jeremy handled the cash-out because I couldn’t keep up with the stream of texts and social media posts. I didn’t let myself think about what Dad would do if he found out DJ Erika had played my song. But, I did think about all of Georgia’s records I’d taken from Dad’s shelves and hidden in my drawer upstairs. If I wanted to be considered a legit DJ, I had to have more songs for people to listen to. A little spark lit inside of me. There was more to my story. Georgia’s recordings were the inspiration, but what I did with them, the mixes, were all mine.

  Dad’s warnings about Georgia’s record company might come to nothing. I wasn’t going to let them stand in my way. As far as I knew, no one except for Jeremy had wondered about the vocals I’d used. There was something karmic about using her records. Even though she’d left us, her music, her voice, was guiding me.

  - 32 -

  Ray

  I held the ticket in my hands. It was old school, and I ran my thumb along the perforated edges. Barney shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, man. Tell Dizzy I tried to get another, but this was it. Thought I better grab it while I could.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Hey, I owe you one.” Tried to keep my voice level, sound sincere. Didn’t know what kind of favours Barney had had to pull to get this ticket, or when Dizzy had asked for it. Thoughts rolled through my head, fast and furious.

  “You think she’s going to come by? See the kids?” Barney asked.

  Like that question hadn’t kept me up nights. Barney traced the rim of his glass with his finger. Cola for him, a beer for me. “Kinda thought I’d have heard from her by now, so I dunno.”

  I knew Lou didn’t want to see her, even if she did come by. At least, that was what he said. I’d seen the cool glint in his eye every time her name came up. The way he looked at the poster, probably remembering the last time she came, filling his head with promises. Lou kept his feelings for Georgia bottled up inside. Wasn’t anger, exactly, it was colder than that. Like an ice cube, not a fire. Wished I could take it away for him, find a way to melt it. But the only one who could do that was Georgia.

  And then there was Dizzy. She’d gone behind my back asking Barney for the ticket. Coulda knocked me over with a feather when he called to say he’d got a ticket and could we meet up so he could give it to me. Dizzy never mentioned a goddamn thing to me about it. Had to play it cool, though. Didn’t want Barney to feel bad for helping her. But inside, I was fuming. The last place I wanted her was at that concert. I knew the effect watching Georgia perform had on people. Didn’t want Dizzy getting sucked in any more than she was. Best thing would be for the concert to come and go so we could get back to normal.

  Barney and I talked for a while longer, but I was distracted, thinking about the ticket. Cuz another thought came to me. I could go. I could use it. Kinda curious to see her on stage again, after all these years. Be strange not to be beside her, where I used to be, but in the audience. One of the thousands. Didn’t know if I’d like that much. And then, after the show was over, I’d what? Go home? Pretend like I hadn’t just seen her? Lie to Dizzy and Lou?

  “Okay, man. I’ll check in with you in a couple of days.” We slid off the bar stools and slapped each other’s backs.

  “You heading home?” Barney asked. He’d gained some weight and his gut hung way over his belt. I remembered him when he was fifty pounds lighter. The buttons didn’t gape on his shirts back then.

  I’d brought my sax with me. Figured I’d need it. “Might go play for a bit.” The guys knew about the subway. They understood that sometimes you just needed to play. I could let my worries tumble out. All the things I wanted to say to Georgia, what I wished I’d said fourteen years ago, would get coaxed out of Betsy and swirl in the air around me.

  Barney nodded and stroked his beard. It hung halfway down his chest, like Grizzly Adams. “Say hi to the kids.”

  “Sure thing.” I bent down to pick up the case. The handle was worn and fit right in my palm. Or maybe my palm fit right in it.

  The bar was a few blocks from the subway station. Zipped up my leather jacket against the wind. Damn cold for this time of year. Turned back once to see Barney lumbering down the sidewalk to his apartment. He’d found one on the first floor because the stairs were getting hard for him. God, we were getting old. My hair blew all over the place; pushing it off my face didn’t help any, so I just let it go. Kind of shook it back into place when I got down into the subway.

  No matter how many times I’ve been down here, I’ve never gotten used to the smell of piss that hits me as soon as I take a few steps in. A lump of blankets was lying against the wall at the bottom. A cardboard sign on the ground said, “Grateful for anything.”

  I set up a ways from the magazine seller. Armit says it’s good for business when I play. He gave me a smile and a wave. Three kids and a wife, plus his parents, lived with him; he was working at the kiosk to support all of them. I’d buy a drink off him when I was done, have a chat. Just him and his cousin stuck in that little room surrounded by junk food, cigarettes, and magazines for sixteen hours a day. We all got to pay the bills, though.

  Took Betsy out of her case and slid my hands along the shiny metal. The harsh glare of lights in the subway didn’t dull her, made her shine brighter. I licked the reed, wetting it, and got my mouth ready. A song had been buzzing in my head all day. Thinking about Georgia made me lonely. Regretful, I guess. I could’ve found someone else if I wanted to. Maybe I should’ve. Dizzy deserved a mom. I never wanted to get close to anyone after Georgia left, though. The wound was deep. It had healed, but the scar was still there. Tender to the touch.

  So that’s what I played. A soft song, thoughtful.

  A few people stood around to listen. Some stared at the empty tracks, waiting for trains, but I saw their shoulders shift to me. Music did that. Like an invisible chain, it connected us. They didn’t know it, but I was whispering my thoughts in their ears. Things got a whole lot clearer as I played, like sweeping cobwebs out of an attic.

  Dizzy wanted to see her mom so bad. Maybe I should let her, pass the ticket on to her and let things happen the way they were gonna happen. If she didn’t get the ticket from Barney, she might just get one from somewhere else. It was a bad idea, though. Going to Georgia’s concert was like chasing a ghost. Georgia would never be who Dizzy wanted her to be. I had to protect my girl. Giving her the ticket would be like opening Pandora’s box.

  I’d left my case open today, and by the time I was done, there was a good amount of money in there. I bought a music magazine and a drink from Armit and packed up Betsy. She fit tight in her velvet cushion, like a good-fitting pair of jeans. I snapped the case shut. A few people who’d been listening smiled as I walked past. Appreciative, I liked to think.

  The blanket lump was still there, only now there was a face, too. Leroy gave me a gap-toothed grin when I walked up to him.

  “Music Man!” He greeted me.

  Bumped into him from time to time. On the sidewalk, in the park, and in the subway stations. He had his hangouts,
same as me.

  “Thought you were asleep,” I said, squatting down. He was leaning against the wall, rattling a coffee can in his hand. Some change and a few dollars rolled around.

  “Woke up when I heard those sweet notes. Thought it might be you.” Leroy said he’d been a music teacher till he fell on hard times. I didn’t know if Leroy remembered I owned a record store. I’d told him before. I even told him if he was in the neighbourhood to stop by and check it out.

  Today was a good day, but there have been other times where he’d walked right past me, muttering. He could have been my age or twenty years younger. A life on the street did that to a person. “I was hoping you’d play somethin’ bluesy.”

  I tapped Betsy’s case. “She wasn’t in the mood.”

  Leroy was missing most of his teeth. Found that out the hard way when I offered him an apple one day.

  “Look at this. I got to show you something.” Leroy dug into his blankets, rustling things around. “Where is it? You got to see this! Ha! Found it! Look at this, man! You believe it?” He held a paper out, the glossy kind of posters that get stuck up on empty walls. “Georgia Waters! She’s coming.” Leroy shook his head in amazement. “She is my favourite.”

  “You like Georgia Waters, eh?”

  “Hmm-mmm.” He nodded, smacking his lips. “She is my angel. That hair. I always loved redheads. Used to have all her records, every one. Got one signed, too.”

  “No kidding.” I rapped my fingers across Betsy’s case. “Can I tell you something, Leroy?” I waited till his eyes were on me. “It’s a secret, you got to promise it stays down here, with us. You can’t tell anyone else.”

  He leaned in. “Whatchu got for me, man?”