by Neil Plakcy
“She isn’t spinning her own cotton yet, but I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“Miles says that he has a quick project he has to work on tomorrow,” Gavin said. “Why don’t we play hooky and go shopping?”
“I like that. We’ll get Mary Anne to go too so I’m not outnumbered by guys with questionable fashion sense.”
“Excuse me?” Gavin said indignantly. He waved a hand from his chest to his feet. “I am a model, and I am the height of fashion on South Beach.”
“My point exactly,” Erica said. “We’re talking Wisconsin Dells, not Miami Beach.”
Erica’s mother went home that afternoon with all the grannies’ measurements, and with no parental units around to object, Mary Anne drove down to stay over with Archie. The more time he spent with her, the more Gavin liked her. When he’d first met her at a family party, he’d thought she was shy. But away from the looming presence of Archie’s family, she turned out to be a small girl with a big personality. She matched the barrettes in her blonde hair to her shoes—pink that day—but Gavin didn’t hold it against her.
The grannies had a much more relaxed attitude, Gavin thought. His grandma easily accepted his relationship with Miles, and Aunt Myrtle loved Mary Anne like another granddaughter. Gavin figured that having raised their own kids, they could afford to be more laissez-faire about the next generation.
The five of them sat out in the yard that night under a canopy of stars. “Boy, now I really feel like the fifth wheel,” Erica said. “Why don’t I have a boyfriend here?”
“Because you’re a diva?” Gavin asked.
Mary Anne and Erica both slapped him, and Miles and Archie laughed.
“What about that guy who came to see you last weekend?” Gavin asked.
“He’s just a friend.”
Archie and Gavin shared a look, but it was Archie who said, “Yeah, I drive three hours to hang out with my ‘friends’ too.”
“Dating is just too complicated,” Erica said. “I don’t see how you guys all manage. At school I have classes and rehearsals and I have to study and practice. If I have any free time at all, I just want to hang out, without any pressure.”
“You managed with that Chinese guy for a couple of years,” Archie said. “Whatever happened to him?”
“Ming? Things just kind of, you know, fell apart, and we went our separate ways. He was double-majoring in music and math, and he ended up focusing on the math.”
“You probably broke his heart and drove him away from music,” Gavin said. He began to sing, “Don’t go breaking my heart.”
“I couldn’t if I tried,” Archie added.
“Oh, honey if I get restless,” Miles sang.
Staying on key, Gavin sang, “I don’t know the next line,” and everyone laughed. But late that night, cuddled next to Miles, Gavin wondered what would happen if he and Miles broke up. Would he still want to sing? Would Miles go back to hiding behind his keyboard, as Grandma Frances had observed?
The next morning, Gavin drove to the outlet mall, with Archie riding shotgun and the girls in the backseat gossiping in low voices.
“What are you all talking about back there?” Archie demanded, turning in his seat.
“Girl talk,” Mary Anne said. “You can turn around and face front, Mr. Olson.”
“She told you, bro,” Gavin said.
“Erica Ellsworth is a bad influence,” Archie grumbled. “Kind of like you.”
“Me?” Gavin demanded.
“Yes, you. I was perfectly happy working at the bank until you came along with this harebrained scheme.”
“You sound just like Uncle Wally. He says things like ‘harebrained scheme.’”
Archie crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, he’s my father.”
“And do you want to grow up to be like him? Work in some stuffy office every day for the next fifty years?”
“You could be like my dad,” Erica said from the backseat. “Shoveling manure every day is good for the soul.”
“I don’t want to be like any of them,” Gavin said.
“Yeah, you want to pump coffee,” Archie said. “That’s one step up from pumping gas.” He paused for a second for effect. “Oh, I forgot. You’re going to be a star.” He spread his hands open for emphasis.
“Fuck you,” Gavin said.
“No thanks. I prefer my chicks without dicks.”
“Boys!” Mary Anne said. “Don’t make us pull this car over and separate you.”
Gavin looked at Archie and stage whispered, “And you want that? More power to you.”
Both boys broke into laughter as the girls pounded the backs of their seats.
Gavin pulled into the parking lot of the outlet mall, which was jammed with SUVs and RVs and ATVs—way too many V’s, as far as he was concerned. He was careful to park in an end space at the far end of the complex.
“Talk about being like your father,” Archie said as he got out of the car.
“I get a ding in this car, my dad’ll try to ground me,” Gavin said. “Not that it ever worked when I was living in Eau Claire.”
They went from store to store, picking out clothes that went with what the grannies were wearing but were more up-to-date. They settled on matching dark slacks for both guys, with white shirts and skinny ties and slim-lined sports jackets with narrow lapels.
Erica found a similar jacket, though cut for her curvy figure, and matched it with a white blouse and a black taffeta skirt that swirled when she walked.
They ate lunch at the food court.
“Are you guys thinking of performing again after the Dells concert?” Mary Anne asked.
“No way,” Archie said.
“Maybe,” Erica said at the same time.
Mary Anne looked at Gavin. “What about you?”
Gavin shrugged. “No idea. I was thinking if I turn out to be any good, Miles might be able to hook me up with some of his musician contacts back in Miami. Maybe I could get a couple of gigs that way, you know, singing backup or something.”
“I thought you were going back to modeling,” Archie said.
“I don’t know what I want. Just not, you know, Eau Claire. At least not for a while.”
“What’s wrong with Eau Claire?” Archie demanded. “It looks pretty good from Chippewa Falls.”
“I want to live overseas,” Erica said. “Maybe Paris or Milan, if I can join an opera company after I graduate. I certainly don’t want to ever live in Wisconsin again.”
“You guys are just spoiled brats,” Archie said. “Everything worth having is worth working for.”
“Yes, Uncle Wally,” Erica said. “Neither of us have said we aren’t willing to work. Do you know how hard it is to sing an aria? How much competition there is for the couple of company jobs available?”
“And modeling may look like a dumb job, but it’s a lot of work to keep your body up, and it’s hard taking all the rejection,” Gavin said. “You never have to worry about losing your job because you gained a couple of pounds or because you got a zit on your nose.”
“What do you think Miles thinks?” Erica asked Gavin. “Can we really record something?”
“He has to believe that, or he wouldn’t be wasting his time,” Gavin said.
“You don’t make money off music sales anymore,” Archie said. “The only way to make a living as a musician is by doing concerts. And not crappy little gigs like the Dells thing. Where you’re the headliner and people shell out big bucks to hear you. Nobody’s going to do that for us and our grannies.”
The drive back to Starlit Lake was subdued, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
The concert was scheduled for that Saturday, Labor Day weekend, in the Crystal Grand Music Theater at the Wisconsin Dells. They practiced like mad from Monday to Thursday, then took it easy on Friday, making sure not to hurt their voices. The grannies needed a lot of pampering, and Gavin made them tea with honey and went over the blocking Miles had come up with.
He and Miles didn’t talk much; they were both too tired at the end of the day. But it was comforting to Gavin just to be with Miles, and he tried to enjoy every moment they could spend together.
It was about a two-hour drive from Starlit Lake to the venue, a straight shot down I-94. His father had reserved a block of rooms so that the family could stay over that night and then return home on Sunday.
Archie and Gavin were going to share a room, and Miles would have his own. But Friday afternoon after they finished practicing, Archie asked, “Gav, you think you could do me a favor? Mary Anne’s going to come to the concert tomorrow. You think you could bunk in with Miles and let us have the room?”
“I’ll ask my dad to get us another room,” Gavin said. “He’s been bragging about the good deal he got.”
“Don’t do that. He’ll say something to my dad, and my dad will freak.”
Gavin gaped at him in mock horror. “You mean…your parents don’t know…that you’re straight?”
“You are totally clueless, aren’t you?” Archie asked.
“Come on, Arch. You’re twenty-three years old. Surely your parents don’t think you’re a virgin.”
Archie shook his head. “It’s different for you. You can screw anybody you want, and nobody ends up pregnant.”
“Just use a condom,” Gavin said. “I have a bunch I can give you.”
“You haven’t been paying attention to all the fuss about Gretchen?”
“Wretched? What? She’s not coming to the concert, is she?”
“No, Gavin,” Archie said, as if he were talking to a child. “She’s pregnant. And not married. And your parents, and mine, and even Erica’s, are all freaking out.”
“I did notice that there were all these mysterious conversations going on.” He nodded. “So that’s why Mary Anne only came down when the parents weren’t here.”
“Yup. Will you bunk in with Miles after the concert, and let Mary Anne stay with me?”
“Sure. I was planning to do that anyway.”
“Awesome,” Archie said. “Thanks, Gav.”
He and Gavin fist-bumped, and then Gavin went in search of Miles. As usual, he was in his studio, fiddling around at the keyboard.
Miles looked up as Gavin walked in. “Hey, have a seat. I wanted to ask you about the Dells. Have you ever been there?”
Gavin nodded. “We used to go for the water parks and go-kart rides when we were kids. The Dells are actually these sandstone gorges on the river, really beautiful. My mom and dad used to ditch Wretched and me at least once a trip to go for a boat ride.”
He remembered feeling jealous that his parents snuck away, usually leaving him at miniature golf with his sister and his cousins. Then when he was a teenager, he mooned around wanting to have someone special to cruise with. “Maybe we could go on one of them on Sunday, just you and me. After everybody else checks out.”
“No rowing?” Miles asked, grinning.
“None at all. They’re big boats.”
“Then that sounds like a very interesting opportunity. But I really meant the theater. You ever been in there?”
“A couple of times. It’s not that huge, not like you’d find in a big city or anything. Looks like an old Southern house from the outside with the columns and all.”
“I don’t suppose you know anything about the acoustics?”
Gavin shook his head. “Sorry. Never paid attention to any of that. Erica might know more. She’s never sung there, but I know she’s been to concerts in the summer.”
“You have to learn this, you know,” Miles said. “If you want to be a musician.”
“Fortunately,” Gavin said, leaning in for a kiss, “I have a very good tutor.”
Stage Fright
The night before the concert, Miles sent Gavin upstairs to his own room. “Get a good night’s sleep,” he said.
But instead, Gavin dozed through restless dreams about showing up for college classes naked and about a photographer he had only worked with once, who insisted on dressing him like an Eskimo in fur coats that made him sweat and were so bulky you couldn’t see his face or figure.
He woke up sick to his stomach. What had he been thinking, agreeing to sing in public? Despite how much Miles said he’d improved, he knew he was no singer. Could he cancel now? Throw up over the breakfast table and plead sickness?
Archie rapped on his bedroom door. “Come on, Gav, get up. I need coffee.”
“Go to Starbucks.” Gavin rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.
Archie opened the door. “Gavin. We’ve got to get a move on in order to get down to the Dells in time for the dress rehearsal.”
“I don’t want to go,” Gavin said into his pillow.
“A little stage fright, huh?” Archie came into the room and sat on the side of the bed. “Who’d a thunk it? Mr. Confidence himself. Scared of going on stage.”
“You’re an asshole.”
Archie grabbed his shoulder and rolled him over. “Say that to my face.”
Gavin glared at him.
“It’s okay to feel nervous,” Archie said. “The first time I sang on stage with the MadHatters, I was ready to throw up. But once I got out there under the lights, with the audience in front of me, it was like I belonged there. And you won’t be on your own. The grannies and Erica and I will be with you.”
“Really? You were sick your first time?”
“And about the next five or six times too. But see, I have balls.” Archie reached down and grabbed his own balls. “So I could do that. How about you?”
“If you weren’t straight, and related to me, I’d show you mine.” Gavin pushed his cousin lightly. “Get off my bed so I can get up.”
“I’ll be downstairs,” Archie said.
Gavin threw on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts and went downstairs, where he fixed coffee and tea, keeping himself busy. Archie’s parents showed up to join in the drive down to the Dells, and Gavin kept bumping into his aunt as she tried to help in the kitchen. As soon as he could escape, he went down the hall to Miles’s room, but Miles wasn’t there.
He heard the shower in the downstairs bathroom and figured that was Miles. But just in case it was one of the grannies, he went upstairs to take his own shower. He couldn’t seem to get rid of his jitters, which was weird, because he drank coffee all the time and it never bothered him. It had to be stage fright.
A high school drama teacher had once told him to imagine the audience naked, which didn’t help at all if there were cute guys in the front rows. Imagine the women naked, he reminded himself.
He pulled on a black T-shirt with Eat Cheese or Die in white across the chest, a pair of shorts, and his Crocs, and hurried downstairs to help load the cars. There was great confusion over luggage because Aunt Ida and Aunt Myrtle had matching suitcases and Myrtle had to open one in order to make sure which was hers. He could tell that all three of the grannies were nervous, and that made him feel more confident. He had to grow a pair, he thought, remembering his early-morning conversation with Archie. The grannies were depending on him.
Gavin had Grandma Frances in the front seat of the loaner Camry, with Aunt Ida and Erica in the back. Archie drove the red Yaris that his parents had bought him as a graduation present—with a significant discount from Uncle Richard. Aunt Myrtle rode beside him. Miles drove his SUV.
Gavin led the way to the interstate, but then lead-foot Archie jumped in front of him. “Show-off,” Gavin muttered. He had a moment’s impulse to challenge his cousin to a drag race, but a shred of maturity stopped him.
They pulled into the motel by the theater just before noon. Gavin’s parents were already there; his father had checked everyone in. Gavin accepted a card for the room he was supposed to share with Archie, which he slipped to his cousin. Miles went up to the front desk and got an extra card for his room for Gavin.
Miles shepherded them all to the theater, where they sat in the audience watching the other acts rehearse. Then the stag
e manager called, “Singing Sweethearts to the stage,” and they all trooped up to practice their blocking. The lighting guy put up a huge photo of an apple orchard in full fruit as their backdrop, and a stagehand dragged three rocking chairs out and placed them in a semi-circle.
They ran through each of the three songs, first with the grannies standing in a semi-circle for “Apple Cider Time,” with Gavin, Erica, and Archie on the floor in front of them. Miles had asked for a standing mike for them to cluster around, though the sound wouldn’t come through it; he thought it would give their blocking an old-time feel.
Then the grannies moved to the rockers for the next two songs. The process reminded Gavin of modeling, where he was told what to do and how to move. The lavalier microphones pinned to their shirts had to be adjusted several times, and Aunt Myrtle’s left leg started to wobble when she stood for too long. Aunt Ida was wearing too much gold, and several of her bracelets caught the light badly when she waved her arms. Gavin had to convince her to take them off.
Gavin didn’t realize how much adrenaline he’d been channeling until they had all left the stage. He and Archie were in one dressing room with a bunch of other male singers; Erica and the grannies were in another, with Erica’s mom there to help with the costumes.
He slumped to the floor, sweat dripping from his forehead, feeling like all the energy had been sapped from his body. He kept reminding himself that this was just like being photographed—he was putting on a performance, becoming someone the audience wanted to see, and in this case, hear.
Archie looked like he was going to throw up at any minute.
With a great effort, Gavin pushed himself up. “Come on. We’ve got to get dressed,” he said to his cousin.
Gavin stripped down to his boxer briefs, then began digging in his bag for the clothes he was to wear onstage. When he looked over, Archie was still wearing the T-shirt and shorts he’d begun the day in. “You need me to take your clothes off, Arch?” he asked. “I’ve got a lot of experience at that.”
“I can manage,” Archie said with a croak.
They dressed and then stood beside each other to look in the mirror. Archie had wanted them to wear porkpie hats, but Gavin had resisted. He liked the contrast of Archie’s close-cropped red hair, his own blond locks, and Erica’s dark-brown curls.
