Bad Apple 1: Sweet Cider

by Barbara Morgenroth

  “It would be a mistake not to.”

  “I’m not that good.”

  “Yet.”

  “What are you seeing in me? It has to be something that’s been well hidden for my entire life.”

  “I spend a lot of time with musicians. Every summer I go to college. Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of singers.”

  “They’re trained.”

  “They are. You would see them in a concert hall.”

  “You’d see me in a barn. That’s perfect.”

  “What they have is technique. What you have is something raw, and visceral. For you, there is a simple, direct, emotional connection. They’re singing a song but you’re telling a story.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  He gave my leg a pat. “You don’t understand but it’s a little scary what’s in you.”

  “Maybe it should stay there.”

  “If you bring forth what’s inside you, what’s inside you will strengthen you. If you don’t bring forth what inside you, what’s inside you will destroy you.”

  “Who said that?”

  “Someone a lot smarter than me.”

  Chapter 9

  I was in my room, doing homework trying to stay ahead when there was a tap at my door. “Yes?”

  The door opened, no one was going to stand on privacy in this house, and Shannon came in. “Hi. You’re not around much anymore, are you?”

  “Maude’s knees have been acting up so I’ve been helping her.” It was mostly true.

  “Do you want to go to town with me?”

  “Now?” It was coming up to eight o’clock and I had a couple hours of work still in front of me. I was taking extra classes and with the music about to take all my spare time, it would be easy to get behind.

  “I need to pick up something for the weekend and I work every night until then.”

  Shannon worked in the café in Acre while Toby preferred being in her own element—she worked at the Lumberjack Tavern on Front Street.

  “I need the company.”

  Since when was I company? But Shannon had always been decent to me, being in some ways even more preyed upon than I was. She tried to stand up to Toby but most people have a mental line drawn that they won’t go beyond. Toby didn’t have that, so in any argument she was in it to win it, whatever it took.

  I put my things away, shut off the light and picked up my jacket.

  Janie was watching television when we crossed through the living room and went out to her car, an old Suzuki that she had been able to buy for $600 because it was falling apart.

  We drove in silence for a couple miles, headed to Rie’s, the only store around that carried almost everything and of dubious quality but it was what people could get without driving thirty miles. I thought it was depressing. With the glaring lights and gray floor, it was nearly a warehouse and I never volunteered to go there. I didn’t need anything that desperately. If I needed something, I saved up the Social Security money I got due to my father, and bought it elsewhere.

  Shopping happened infrequently for me; that’s one reason why I had nothing to wear for the show. I didn’t want to confess to Truly how little I had. My school clothes were the best I had and I didn’t see how that was glamorous enough for a concert.

  Shannon parked and we walked inside, she keeping to my pace unlike Toby. Since we headed directly to the clothing section, I guessed that’s what we were there for.

  “You’re smart to stay away as much as possible,” Shannon said off-handedly, as she went through the blouses.

  “It’s not like they’ll miss me.”

  “Me, either.” Shannon moved on to the lingerie section.

  I was starting to understand the weekend clothing emergency.

  She held up a teddie I think it was. “What do you think?”

  It was shiny with small day-glo pink hearts. I could hardly imagine anything worse. “It’s cute. Where are you going to wear it?”

  She hung it back on the rack and kept looking. “You know Dustin from the garage?”

  I nodded.

  “I trust you not to say anything.”

  I nodded again.

  “He asked me to move in with him.”

  This was bad. Toby was going to throw a fit to learn that her younger sister found a steady date before she did. Now I understood the need for secrecy.

  “He seems very nice,” I said.

  Dustin did seem nice. He worked for his father at the garage and most of the time had a smile on his face. Just that alone should have persuaded Shannon to jump ship.

  “He’s good to me, Neal. He’s never hit me.”

  The last boyfriend was not quite so nice and she stayed with him longer than she should have but I understood her need to get away.

  Shannon held up another thing, maybe it was a camisole. Maybe it was supposed to be. This one had some little ribbon roses around the neckline.

  “You’ll look pretty in that,” I said.

  She beamed. “You think he’ll like it?”

  I nodded. I wasn’t sure how high his expectations were but I was sure it wasn’t at the level of a fashion model.

  We stood by the cashier while Shannon completed the transaction.

  “When are you going to say something?”

  “Not for a while. After Thanksgiving, I think.”

  “What about Christmas?”

  Janie made a huge deal over Christmas. She bought everyone many little gifts so there would be things to unwrap. That was the fun part for her. The wrapping and the unwrapping. You couldn’t say no to it. Another tearful episode lurked on the horizon if Shannon wasn’t living at home for this holiday extravaganza.

  “I don’t know.” She picked up the plastic bag and we left the store. “Dustin wants to join the Marines.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes.”

  “We think so. I won’t be able to live with him on base for a while. We’ll have to get married, but eventually we could be together.”

  “He’ll get training, and education for his future. I’m happy for you.” I hoped it would happen.

  She talked all the way home, showing a side I hadn’t seen before. She had dreams of a future.

  The future was something I had resolutely ignored. If didn’t put my full attention to the day at hand, I was afraid that the impenetrable dark on the horizon would engulf me.

  Years ago, I decided to say nothing, to do nothing except get excellent grades. Somehow, I would get enough money to attend college away from Acre and the abscess at the heart of this family. Once out, I would never return, but I couldn’t afford to contemplate that. The what-if-I-never-left thought had the power to paralyze.

  I wasn’t even certain the concept of future existed on the mountain. Days succeeded days, the seasons changed, but nothing else did. For Janie, thirty years hadn’t passed.

  I hoped Shannon could get away. I hoped she would be happy with Dustin. I hoped she could create a family of her own and live in Bend Of The Creek, North Carolina, somewhere her family couldn’t find on a map.

  If Shannon was planning her escape and it was real, then maybe the band was real. What if I had been mistaken and school was not the only way out. Maybe music was the road to be stepped upon and then taken somewhere downstream to be left on an unknown riverbank just like logs used to float downstream to arrive at the lumber mill in town.

  Janie was still watching television when we went into the house. She offered us some ice cream with peanut butter on it, just the way she liked it. I passed and went back to my schoolwork.

  After a couple hours, I closed my books, took a shower and crawled into bed. I held his cell phone in my hand for about ten minutes before I finally hit #2 on the speed dial.

  “Hi, Neal.”

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “Sing me something.”

  He did.

&n
bsp; Chapter 10

  He was waiting for me at school. And I have to admit I liked seeing him there by the truck. Between the band and Tru, it was hard to concentrate on anything else.

  Opening the door for me, Tru stood nearby because it was a big step up to the passenger seat. “I hope you have everything you need because we’re going to my house.”

  “Why?”

  “Electricity.”

  “We’re an acoustic band.”

  “Microphones. Amplifiers.”

  I hadn’t thought of that. Not knowing anything about performing, I had no idea of what needed to be done to make it happen.

  “I don’t have my fiddle.”

  “I might have one.”

  “Do you?”

  “Two 6-string guitars, 1 twelve string, a lute, a violin, a viola…”

  “A viola? I’ve never seen one in real life. Is it wonderful?”

  Truly nodded. “Deep, round tones. You’ll love it.”

  “You’d let me play it?” I couldn’t believe my luck.

  “Yes.”

  “How did you, I don’t want to be nosey, afford all these instruments?”

  “Ed and I played a date every available weekend for the past year. Before that, I was a solo. I’ll do that act for you sometime. Before that, for a couple years I had a duo with Mercer Sells. Lambert and Sells, we kept it alphabetical. We performed in historically accurate costumes, mostly Revolutionary War era. ‘In good old colony times when we were under the king, two roguish chaps fell into mishaps because they could not sing’,” he sang.

  “How old were you?”

  “When we started, I was twelve, he was thirteen. We were adorable and we capitalized on that.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Everyone loved us. We were turning away work. We played at the site of the Battle of Saratoga, Fort Stanwix, Lake Champlain, Battle of White Plains, Yorktown, Boston Harbor, Compo Beach.”

  “Where’s Mercer now?”

  “He went to Julliard this year.”

  “Do you still take lessons?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you go to school?”

  “No. When I had the choice of music and home schooling or high school, I chose music.”

  “That’s why you don’t have a girl friend.”

  He laughed. “That’s not why.”

  “I just thought you wouldn’t meet anyone being at home all the time.”

  “I’m not home very much.”

  “Where are you going to be next year?”

  “I thought I knew but now I don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “You.”

  “Don’t change your life because of me.”

  “Let’s not try to make life decisions before the fact.”

  He turned the truck onto a dirt driveway, lined on both sides by pastures and I could see a couple horses in the distance. A medium size white Victorian house was at the end of the road. There was a barn to the west side, more like a stable, really, because there was a horse trailer parked nearby with a large pickup truck.

  “It’s my mother’s business. She rides, my sister rides. I don’t get it.” Truly got out of the truck. “They’re good at it. My sister’s at college in Virginia to do more of it.”

  A slender woman came out of the barn followed by several barn cats. “Sorry I’m late. Give me ten minutes.”

  “Hi, Mom. This is Neal.”

  She stopped hurrying to the house and held out her hand to me. “Neal. I’m Emily. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m glad to meet you. Did he drag you out of school? Do you need to clean up, have a snack or something?”

  “We’ll manage.”

  “I’ll be right with you.”

  Her jeans were dirty, her hair was flying in every direction, life vibrated from her. She looked wonderful. It was no surprise to me that he was happy.

  “Where are Sonny and Quinn?” I asked.

  “They’ll be here later, because we have work to do first.”

  “If it’s because I’m not good enough, just tell me.”

  He held the mudroom door for me. “That’s not it.”

  I stood on the step.

  “Go inside.”

  I stepped up, went into the house and found my way to a kitchen chair.

  He sat across from me. “The band has changed. Don’t tell me how it shouldn’t. You’re not a backup singer.”

  “I could be. I could be in the background.”

  Truly shook his head.

  “I could hang back for a while until I get up to speed.”

  “Why are you doing everything possible to hide?”

  “Why do you think?” I snapped back.

  He said nothing.

  Stupid girl.

  “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

  Had I learned self-destruction from the professionals? They took any opportunity and crushed the life out of it before it had a chance to sprout. Was I going to do that with Truly, too? Was I going to be so difficult that he, and the others, wouldn’t want any part of me.

  Behave, Neal. Behave, please.

  Emily Lambert rushed into the room, stopped and looked at us. “What’s with the two of you? Why are you so quiet?”

  Truly turned to me. “Explain it.”

  I glared back at him.

  “You don’t have the choice of keeping quiet. That’s not how things work in this house.”

  “I’m a guest. The rules don’t apply to me.”

  “Mom?”

  “I’m sorry. The rules apply to everyone. If you start making exceptions it gets so confusing.”

  I pushed back from the table.

  “You’ve got a long walk home,” he said. He was right, of course. I’d never make it back.

  “The people I live with are crazy,” I said looking at him as meanly as I could.

  “Is that it?” She looked at me in surprise.

  “I don’t want...”

  They waited.

  “What? A sandwich?” She asked.

  “Her greatest goal has been to achieve invisibility,” Truly finished for me.

  “How are you going to do that?” His mother asked.

  “By...never saying anything, never doing anything wrong, never causing myself to be noticed.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure,” Emily replied taking glasses from the cabinet. “Is it working?”

  “Up until I met Truly, it was working great.”

  “He’s always been a difficult child,” she agreed.

  “Don’t do the man thing.”

  “Fine. I won’t. He was always like a really short adult.” She emphasized the last word as she put the glasses down on the table and poured ice tea. “Truly spoke early, he walked early, he got into everything. Steve thought it was hilarious but he wasn’t home with Tru all day. Everyone said he’d outgrow it.”

  Truly relaxed back in his chair.

  “He didn’t.” She kissed him on top of the head. “And I’m so glad he didn’t. But if you’re in the band, he’s not going to let you hide. That’s not in his personality. Tru gets that from his father.

  “Steve will just push push push. He won’t give you a minute’s peace.”

  “I know.”

  “Tenacity is one of his best qualities,” she said with a smile broader than the day was long.

  I looked at her in amazement. She was in love with the state trooper. She didn’t just love her husband, she was head over heels for him. Still. It was as fresh and new as if it had just happened.

  What kind of strange people were these?

  I decided not to say another word about the Kents not wanting to be painted with the same blackened brush.

  Truly pushed back from the table, stood and took his glass of ice tea. “Ready?”

  I nodded and followed him to the door.

  “I’ll be out as soon as I get a couple things done in here,” his mother said. “I want to hear what you’re working on.”
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br />   “I’m not good enough to be heard yet,” I replied. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  The Enchanted Garden gig was too soon. I needed a month to get to the point where I thought I was ready. I wasn’t even sure I could remember the lyrics yet.

  “Okay,” she replied, genially. “When are you going to be ready?”

  “After I practice a lot more?” I looked to Truly.

  He walked off the porch and started toward the garage.

  “Sometimes you never feel ready until you do it,” she told me. “See you in a while.”

  “Tru?”

  He stopped and waited for me to catch up to him. “To her, you’re acting like another balky horse.”

  “What’s with you people?”

  He started walking again. “What do you mean?”

  I followed him into the building and he flipped on the lights.

  “Have you ever used a microphone before?” He placed a mike on a stand in front of me.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to use one? Because right now it doesn’t seem like it.” He faced me.

  I didn’t reply.

  “It’s an easy question. Yes or no.”

  “Easy for you. God. You’ve been blessed. You don’t know...”

  “What?”

  “How bad life can be. Your parents...” I stopped, “are so decent. You’ve had incredible advantages.”

  “And?”

  “Am I supposed to say anything here? No matter what? Is that the rule?”

  “That’s the rule.”

  “Who made that rule?”

  “They did. It happened before I was born. If you don’t like it, take it up with them.”

  I sat on an old wooden stool. “Tru.”

  “What.”

  “I’m not like you people.”

  “You people.”

  “Your family. I’m not criticizing you. I think the darkness in those Kents leached into me. I think I learned how to ruin every chance I get. I think I’ll get up on stage and implode just...”

  “So you can prove to yourself you’re the damaged girl.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yeah. Ain’t gonna happen.” He handed me his guitar.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I won’t let it.” He motioned me to the microphone. “If you know you’re going to be louder, you step back. If the passage is softer, you step closer. Stand with one foot in front of the other. Don’t get too close to the mic, your voice will be distorted. That’s all you need to know for this gig. Can you remember that?” He positioned the microphone to the correct height.