Blackbird Flies

by Chynna T. Laird

  Okay, that’s it, Payton thought. Now I’m daydreaming about crappy TV. Crappy Canadian TV that nobody even watches or knows about.

  He sighed, then plunked his head against the cool window.

  Bette Midler crooned ‘The Rose.’ Payton closed his eyes. It was Mom’s favorite song to sing. People had asked her to sing it every time there was an opportunity, and she’d loved singing it. She sang it way better than Bette did.

  …some say love…it is a hunger…an endless aching need…

  He kept his eyes closed until Bette held the word ‘rose,’ and a piano played the last chord.

  His Adam’s apple ached.

  “We’re almost there,” Liam finally said. “Not the prettiest area, but there’s some great restaurants and stuff around here.”

  Payton looked around. ‘Not the prettiest area’ was probably the most ginormous understatement ever. It was a slum. Most of the buildings were run down, homeless guys were passed out on the street and he even saw a few young girls hanging out in front of a run-down hotel. He was pretty sure they weren’t there for the ‘All-You-Can-Eat Early Bird’ breakfast.

  Not alone anyway.

  One of the girls looked about his age. He stared at her. She looked just like Alicia Silverstone, but with darker hair.

  Wow!

  The truck slowed down, then stopped.

  “We’re here,” Liam said, opening his door. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

  “Go where?” Payton asked, pulling up his sweatshirt hood. “There’s nothing around here but drunks, hookers and gross greasy spoons I’d never set foot in if you paid me to. I’m tired of the ‘cloak and dagger’ thing, okay? Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Liam got out of the truck, then waved Payton to follow him. “It’ll all be clear in a while. I promise.”

  Promises.

  From a dude who’d left him behind.

  Whatever.

  Payton inhaled, then blew out sharply. It smelled like pee. No, wait. Worse than that. It was more a litter box that hadn’t been changed in months. The sausages in his stomach churned. He slammed the truck door, then froze. His mouth hung open.

  “Holy crap!” he shouted, causing a stir among the street-sleepers.

  Payton stared across the street at the one beautifully constructed and kept up building for blocks. The Alberta Prep School of the Arts.

  It was a high school for gifted students excelling in the areas of music, fine arts, and vocal abilities. The intent of the school was to provide a safe haven for students whose academic capabilities were far beyond their peers and who also possessed some sort of artistic ability. Essentially, it gave the students a place to be who they are without being lost within the regular curriculum. There…there…they could shine without being considered ‘weird,’ ‘different,’ or being isolated in other ways.

  And Payton had wanted to go there for years.

  He placed his palms on his head. “I can’t believe this! I totally forgot this place was here. You know, I told Grandpa I’d wanted to come here, but he said it was way too expensive. Plus, not only do you have to apply to get in here, you have to try out. You know…perform.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I heard too,” Liam said, smiling. “C’mon. Wanna check it out?”

  “Seriously?”

  Liam nodded. “Let’s go. We’re here.”

  “Flippin’ A!” Payton shouted, then quickly composed himself. “Oh, sorry.”

  “No worries,” Liam laughed. “C’mon.”

  They ran across the street, narrowly escaping the city bus zooming around the bend. Guess the bus drivers didn’t like the area either. They walked up the narrow sidewalk to the main doors. Payton was in awe.

  The college looked just like one of those Ivy League schools down in the States with its brick-and-mortar structure and massive elm trees draping over park benches scattered around the campus. It was early, but kids sat in small groups on the perfectly-mowed, lush, green grass or smoking at the doors and sucking back their coffee before morning classes.

  He loved it.

  Liam pulled open one of the heavy, wooden double doors, letting Payton go in first. The young man pulled his hood off, and soaked in the atmosphere. There were three floors, including the basement. On the inside everything was the same brick, mortar and wood construction. The wood was a beautiful, mahogany color and… shiny…as though it had only just been painted.

  He closed his eyes.

  His nose caught a whiff of turpentine and oil paints. A choir warmed up with a jazzier version of a familiar church hymn he remembered singing as a boy. An orchestra tuned its strings, brass, and woodwinds not too far from where they stood. And over it all a piano…a grand, he was sure…enticing him with its gorgeous, deep tones. Right there, in that moment, he felt more at home than he had in a long time.

  Payton opened his eyes to see a man in a dark suit and multi-colored tie, smiling at him. His cheeks crimsoned, wondering exactly how long the guy had been standing there.

  “Payton, this is Dean Fenehey,” Liam said, shaking the man’s hand. “Dean, this is…my son, Payton. We came to check the place out.”

  The Dean held his hand out to Payton, who paused, then gripped the man’s hand.

  “Son, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you like the grand or short-cut tour?”

  “Oh wow,” Payton said, his eyes widening. “Definitely the grand.”

  Normally, he would have been suspicious of why the Dean of the school met them at the doors. It was almost as if he’d known they’d be there. The thought didn’t stay in his head very long. He was too excited.

  The tour started on the second floor where the classrooms were. Not very fun, except there were rooms called ‘Script Writing,’ ‘Novel Writing,’ and other forms of writing. That was pretty cool. He’d never been a writer but he had always been fascinated with those who did. And he loved books.

  They toured the basement next, where there was a full theatre and artists’ studio. Costumes and props were hung everywhere. Very cool. There were also classrooms for acting and costume/set design and a full dance studio. The artists’ studio had every art supply one could imagine, with classrooms for clay, painting, and sculpture. He noticed a small change room for models in the paint room, and wondered whether they did nudes. He made a mental note to check back some other time when class was going on.

  On the main floor was his element.

  Music.

  He figured since his focus was music, and the Dean seemed to know that, he saved the best for last.

  There were different classrooms for theory, instrumental, and vocal. There was also a full-scale opera stage where the school put on yearly operas, symphonies and other performances. Payton thought the coolest thing was how they sold tickets to their performances to help raise money for the school. They even put on art shows and Broadway-type musicals. Although not his thing, he loved being in the background for such things. He made a mental note to suggest he contribute without being front and center.

  The Dean led Payton into the opera hall.

  “Your dad told me you are a bit of a pianist.”

  Payton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Well, we haven’t moved the piano back to the music room yet since our recital last night,” the Dean said, nodding toward the stage. “Would you like to have a go?”

  Payton’s gaze switched to the stage where a full, black-lacquered grand piano sat. Its lid opened towards him, exposing its gorgeous strings…beckoning him.

  He didn’t answer the Dean. He just walked down the stairs to the stage. A spotlight still shone on the piano. It didn’t even matter to him that the leather seat was hot from the lights. He sat down, pushed the seat back to account for his long legs and positioned his hands over the keys.

  He closed his eyes.

  He played Chopin’s Nocturne, one of his favorites. He’d learned it completely by ear, listening to his mother play it. S
he’d played the piece with such emotion it pained a person’s heart. He wished the music flowed out half as beautifully from his own fingers as it had through hers.

  As a young boy, he liked lying under the piano bench while his mom practiced. When she’d gotten really into her playing, the bench shook in time with her hands flying across the keyboard and her tiny feet pumping the pedals. Being only five feet tall, she’d often had to sit right on the edge of the piano seat so the pedals wouldn’t snap back up. He’d lay there, vibrating to the notes. It had always been so calming. He’d guessed it was what it was like to have been rocked.

  When Payton struck the last chord, the notes lingered high above the auditorium stage, echoing for several seconds.

  Then silence.

  Payton removed his glasses, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, then heard…applause? And it wasn’t just his dad and the Dean. He put his glasses back on and squinted, trying to block the glare from the lights with his hand.

  Apparently, a small group of students gathered and sat down in the first couple of rows while he’d been playing. He was embarrassed at first, but when he stood the students rose, cheering.

  “Bravo! Awesome!”

  He fidgeted for a few seconds, then shot a peace sign and walked off the stage. Walking back up to where his dad and the Dean stood, he saw the girl again. The one that looked like Alicia Silverstone. But this time he was able to get a closer look at her.

  Even in the dim light, he saw her face perfectly. Her ebony hair was all one length and draped around her shoulders, hugging her gorgeous oval-shaped face. Her dark, emerald eyes were highlighted with perfectly sculpted eyebrows and long eyelashes, the same darkness as her hair. Her creamy skin looked like the sun had never touched it. Her pink, plump lips stretched into a half-smile when she noticed him staring at her.

  She gave him a thumbs-up.

  He just hoped his mouth wasn’t open.

  “Wow, son, that was incredible,” Dean Fenehey said. “You’ll definitely be an inspiration to other people here. And you can almost bet if you keep up your practicing you’ll get that scholarship.”

  Practicing? Scholarship? What the…?

  Payton frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m not going here. I haven’t even applied. I don’t have the cash to go to this place.”

  The Dean cleared his throat. “Oh dear. I just thought…” He looked at Liam, who swallowed hard. “Okay, well, um, it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag here. I apologize.”

  “What is he talking about?” Payton said, his voice echoing around the auditorium. “Someone better start telling me what’s going on right now!”

  Liam grabbed the young man’s shoulder. “We wanted to talk to you about this later. At home. But the surprise is you are enrolled here. Everything is taken care of.”

  “Yes, well, I’d better take my leave,” Dean Fenehey said. “I apologize if I’ve caused any problems. Here’s your welcome package and receipt for the tuition.” He handed Liam a thick brown envelope, shook his hand, then turned to Payton. “And I hope to see you at Orientation on Thursday. You are an amazingly gifted young man. Don’t give up on that. No matter what.”

  He shook Payton’s limp hand, then walked out of the auditorium, leaving the two men alone.

  They locked eyes.

  Liam reached out to Payton, but the young man stepped back.

  “Pay, I wanted to bring you here first…to experience the place…before I told you. With everything that’s going on, all the changes…I just thought…”

  “No!” Payton yelled, holding his hand up.

  All the students in the first two rows made a quick exit. Including the Alicia Silverstone clone.

  “No, you didn’t think. I’m not a young kid. I hate this, ‘Let’s-not-upset-messed-up-Payton’ crap. I’m not going to run away or kill myself or something.”

  “I know,” Liam said. “Look, let’s go home and talk about it, okay?”

  Payton scoffed. “I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s happening. You enrolled me here? You paid for my tuition? Do my grandparents know about this? They’d never let you do this.”

  Liam handed the envelope to Payton. “They helped make it possible, Pay.”

  Payton snatched the envelope, and pulled the contents out while his father continued.

  “We’d kept in contact over the years. They’d sent me tapes of you playing and told me about how you’d finished high school early. When you started talking to them about this school, and you got old enough, I asked them if I could help them get you in.”

  Payton stared at the papers. It contained his transcripts from school, letters of praise and recommendation from his school and music teachers and personal letters from his grandparents, giving permission to Liam to pay for the tuition.

  “I don’t understand,” he said, his voice shaking. “They sent me here to go to school? They didn’t tell me any of this.”

  “I asked them to, but they thought you should come here and have us talk about it, face-to-face. Your grandfather thought if you knew about all of this ahead of time, you would have refused to come.”

  Payton fought back tears. “Obviously I wouldn’t have had a choice, right? It didn’t matter what I wanted or how I felt. And how is it that you can even do any of this anyway? You can’t do this without my permission, can you?”

  “Look, Pay,” Liam said, reaching out to Payton. “You’re really upset. Classes are starting soon. I don’t want to do this here. Why don’t we just go to the truck and talk…”

  Payton took another step backwards. “Just answer one question straight out!” he yelled.

  Liam handed him another piece of paper. “I can do all of this because I’m your father.”

  Payton stared at the photocopy of a document assigning Liam legal guardianship of Payton. So, after years of not being there, suddenly he had legal rights to what happened to him?

  His head spun.

  My grandparents gave me away, he thought. Just like Mom did.

  The worse part was his grandparents giving him up to a person who’d already given him up once before. He crumpled the document, threw the envelope at his father, then stormed out of the auditorium.

  “Payton! Wait!” Liam called after him.

  He didn’t even turn around. He thought about walking all the way home, then remembered how far it was. He pulled his hood back up, shoved his hands deep into his sweatshirt pocket and sped-walked down the hall and out the front doors.

  He hated his dad. Who did he think he was? He wasn’t allowed to leave his son behind all of those years then show up with money and promises to take care of him. And why? Why would his grandparents just hand him over like that? It wasn’t fair, and he wasn’t letting it happen.

  No way!

  He ran across the street to the truck. Remembering the truck was locked, he jumped up on the hood, and waited for Liam to catch up. He leaned over, resting his head in his palms. After a few minutes, a low sultry voice startled him.

  “Hey.”

  Payton looked up to the gorgeous face of the Alicia clone.

  He nodded at her.

  She smiled. “Just wanted to see if you’re okay. Saw what happened. Parents, hey? Sucks.”

  “Yeah,” he said, picking at a hangnail on his thumb. “Whatever. Thanks. You know…for coming over and stuff.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She stuck her hand out towards him. “I’m Lily. Singing and modeling.”

  He tried to erase the earlier thoughts of nude modeling.

  “Payton,” he said, enveloping her hand in his own. “Music.”

  Her hand felt like silk.

  She giggled. “Obviously. You are an amazing piano player. Just sayin’…”

  Their handshake lingered for a few seconds then she pulled her hand away, shoving it into her back pocket. They locked eyes. There was something about her that drew him to her, but at the same time, she scared him.

  The girls who she’d been with earlie
r called to her, “Hey, Lil! Let’s go! C’mon!”

  She waved at them. “Yeah, so, I’ll see ya at Orientation, then, right?”

  Payton shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

  “Well, after hearing you play, I’d totally suggest giving it a shot. It’s a great place.”

  “I guess I might have to do it, then, since you’re putting it up there so high.”

  “Hey, if it’s all paid for, why not, right?”

  He eased. “I guess.”

  “Ya. Well, later, Payton,” she said, giggling again. “Hope to see ya around.”

  He nodded at her. She reminded him of someone. He watched her until she disappeared into the grungy hotel. Suddenly the truck started, vibrating his butt.

  Well, he thought. That was subtle.

  He wondered how long his dad had been sitting there.

  The engine ran for a several minutes.

  Liam said nothing.

  A stand-off.

  Then Payton heard the passenger door open. He jumped off the hood, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and walked around to the open door. He got in the truck and slammed the door.

  They drove back to St. Albert in silence. Liam staring at the road ahead, Payton slouching as deeply into his seat as he could, resting his head against the window.

  No radio.

  No verbal diarrhea.

  No more pretending.

  Just the rattling of the open windows moving in time with the bumps in the highway and rustling of the flap on the thick, brown envelope between them.

  Six

  When they got back home, Payton jumped out of the truck. He didn’t even wait for his father to turn the engine off. He slammed the truck door shut, then slammed the front door open and closed.

  Katie greeted him at the door. “Hey. So, how did it go?”

  She wore her usual smile, but his look-of-death stare killed it. He didn’t use it often, but such times required less subtle forms of wordless communication. And wordless was all they’d be getting from him until he calmed down.