Song for Jess

by Meg Buchanan

  “And if you’re Leonard Cohen, both.” I’d Googled some of his lyrics and studied them.

  I picked up the bow and tightened it then put it beside the violin. There is a bit of me that wants this to go on forever. I’m considering asking Collins to teach me more over the holidays. But right now, I’m supposed to be writing a song on my own using what I’ve learned.

  I tucked the violin under my chin, tested the bow against the strings, and checked it was in tune. Almost right. I tighten it a bit more.

  “Do what he does,” Collins said.

  “Write about sex and God?” I asked. “I’m supposed to be writing about what I know.”

  That floored Collins. He spluttered.

  Luke was up on stage holding the microphone ready.

  “Stop mucking around, Zac. Get up here.”

  I went to get up on the stage and Collins stopped me. “Just try it,” he said.

  Later, when I got home, I had a go at lyrics again but still couldn’t quite figure out anything I was passionate about. I finished up stretched out on my bed listening to other people’s stuff for half the night. Performance anxiety. It was worse than stage fright. In the end, I stole a few lines I liked, added to them, made them rhyme and scan, then came up with a bit of a melody that fitted. The results weren’t great. I should have gone with love and God.

  “Has promise,” said Collins when he played it.

  I might do it properly next time. I might study this stuff a bit more first.

  So I watched the DVD again. Not bad. Really not bad. That guy Cohen could really write.

  I Googled his lyrics again and studied “A Thousand Kisses Deep”. I figured out how the rhyme scheme worked.

  ABAB CBCB.

  I made a list of words I wanted to use. Then made a list of words that rhymed with the first list. I figured how the lines scan. Then gave it a go and tried to copy his style. I did it like a sudoku puzzle.

  Real creative.

  Not.

  Then I wrote a song for Jess.

  “Shadows and Lace”

  “The silken skin, the secret sin,

  A state of perfect grace,

  I hear the sigh, I breathe you in,

  Only shadows and lace,”

  “I see the touch of filigree

  Drifting across your face

  The curtains move, the patterns flee

  Beyond shadows and lace,”

  A sacrament when you touch me

  A deep and moist embrace,

  The loving gift, the hearts decree

  Death in shadows and lace.”

  It might be more about sex than love, and God doesn’t come into it. But I liked it.

  Jess sat on my bed when I sang it to her. She watched with eyes that drown you. It was like looking into deep shadowed pools.

  When I was finished, she leapt off the bed and hugged me.

  “It’s beautiful.” She got all tangled up in the guitar. But that didn’t matter. “No one has ever written a song for me before.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “It’s perfect,” said Jess.

  Then Mum came into the room looking all prune-faced.

  “What time are you expected home, Jess?”

  “Denis is picking me up in…” Jess looked at her phone, “ten minutes, Mrs. Coleman.”

  “That’s good.” Bloody Mum can barely bother being civil to Jess. I think she blames her for the look. But that isn’t Jess, that’s me. Some of the teachers are not too keen on the mascara and eyeliner and the black hair. either. But it’s a fuck you thing.

  Mum turned to me. “Dinner will be ready soon, Isaac.” Then again, maybe she heard those lyrics. Maybe writing what you know isn’t that great an idea.

  Mum went out of the room, and Jess rolled her eyes.

  Bloody Jess too. It’s all “Yes, Mrs. Coleman” and “No, Mrs. Coleman”, but I think she liked Mum about as much as Mum liked her.

  She picked her jacket up off the bed. “I’ll go and wait outside for Denis.”

  “I’ll come with you.” We wandered out and it was pretty dark. We were standing near the shed.

  Jess wraps her arms around me. “Thank you for the song, Isaac.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed me. “I love you so much.”

  It was the first time she’d said it. I told her I loved her too, and to be careful, she held my soul in her hands.

  Saturday 21st December

  School’s finished. And it’s all been decided. I’m going to Auckland University next year to study music. Not sure if it was Mum’s idea or mine.

  Jess still had one year of school left. We’d be apart for a whole year. Then she’d come to Auckland too. She’s going to art school.

  We sat on the edge of the pallet stage, side by side, and tried to live the dream in our heads.

  “You’ll be a famous musician,” she said.

  “Rock star.” I played a bit of air guitar, and she laughed.

  She rested her head on my shoulder, and her hair flowed over my arm. “I’ll be an artist and travel the world with you.”

  “It’s only a year,” I said. But I don’t want to leave her for a year. I want her to come with me. With the waterfall of hair, and the bruise on her shin where she walked into the pallets. And her hands and lips, and the way she moves likes she’s drifting through fog.

  It’s not just the sex. My soul worships her. It wants to be with her all the time. Not just around other stuff. Not just when we can fit it in.

  Jess lifted her head and looked sideways at me. Tears trembled at the edges of her eyes.

  The edges of my eyes matched.

  She looked away, then turned a little and rested her forehead on my shoulder. And the scent of her filled me.

  I slid my hand around her waist and held her close. “And I can come home in the weekends.”

  Jess nodded and tucked her hair back behind her ear. “It’s only an hour’s drive from Auckland to Paeroa. And a year’s not very long.” She stood up and wandered across to the window beside the workbench. She drew a heart in the dust then rested her forehead against the glass. “My grandma has a bach at Cooks Beach.”

  “Yeah, I know.” It’d been mentioned before. I’d even seen pictures. A little old house right on the beach front, grass spilling to the sand hills then sand and the ocean forever. Jess made it sound like paradise.

  “I’ll be there all summer,” she said.

  That shouldn’t have come as a shock. It always sounded like Jess’s family spend a fair bit of time there. And teachers get eight weeks holidays over summer.

  Never thought about that.

  Could almost make you want to be a teacher.

  Yeah, right.

  So the idea I had of me and Jess spending most of the summer in the shed making music and making love was never that realistic. I hadn’t really got past that in my thinking. If you can call that thinking.

  “All summer?”

  “Yeah.” Jess didn’t look at me. She still had her forehead on the glass. “Do you want to come too?”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as you want.”

  “Really?”

  She nodded.

  So I opted for being with Jess for the summer. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Mum could deal with it.

  Chapter Six

  Saturday 28th December

  Yesterday I got delivered to the bach by Mum. Associating with the rowdy Murphy crowd got a mention several times on the way. That’s what comes of not having a car.

  And having a Mum like mine. It was a relief when she left.

  Monday 30th December

  I’ve been at the bach a few days now. We got up early and went to Hot Water Beach. We caught the sunrise and had a surf. Well, we dug in the sand and made hot pools, then waited for the waves to come. We lolled in the hot water until some tourists turned up then we decided the waves were just fine.

  Denis hauled the bit of toast out of the toaster and juggled it.<
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  “Toast, Zac?” He got a nod from me and lobbed it across the table to where I was sitting. We’d just got back from surfing, and the kitchen already looked like a bomb had hit it. Probably because Jess’s mum wasn’t up yet. But even when she’s up, the standards are pretty flexible. Mum would have a fit. But things just flow over Jess’s mum. She’s nice, real welcoming and caring.

  Jess nodded at the toaster. “Make some for me.” She was standing by the door holding a towel, her hair caked with salt and sitting in little snakes around her face. She was on her way to the shower, all bare feet, damp T-shirt, bikini and long brown legs, with a huge red and black bruise on her thigh where the board hit her when she wiped out. Who would have thought Jess could surf?

  She’s good. Laura is too, but she didn’t want to come to Hot Water Beach this time. She ignored us when we left in the dark.

  I’ve never had a holiday like this before. We roll in packs. If someone suggests doing something, you do it if you want to, if you don’t no one cares. Some days, we go down to the Purangi to collect pipis, then light a fire, and find a sheet of corrugated iron to cook them on.

  Or Jess’s dad takes us out in the boat fishing for the day. Her dad dives for the scallops, but me and Denis are going to do a dive course after New Year. My dad said he’d spring for the cost of the course and hiring the gear. Next year it will be us diving for the scallops, but now we just snorkel for paua and kina.

  There’s no TV at the bach. Or computers. Even phones get frowned on. House rules.

  I’ve had enough of playing Cheat and Black Bitch to last me a lifetime. But it’s all cool.

  “Want to water-ski later?” Denis asked through toast crumbs.

  “Thought the boat was dead.” I was talking through toast crumbs too.

  “It’s going again. Dad got someone to look at it yesterday.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Jess came over to the table. She stood behind me, leaned her arms on my shoulders. “Come and have a shower with me,” she whispered in my ear.

  She had to be kidding. The bedroom where the mum and dad sleep, comes off the lounge. Its right beside the bathroom. They were having a sleep in, but they seem to manage to keep an eye on anything that’s happening from there. And they made it clear when I turned up, I was in the sleepout with Denis and Alan with Laura and Jess in the other one, and that’s the way it would stay.

  “House rules,” said her dad.

  I didn’t mention to him the particular horse he was worried about had already left the stable. Anyway, I didn’t think showers together were on the menu either.

  “I dare you.” Denis flicked his eyes past the lounge, to the shut bedroom door.

  Jess slid round me and sat on my legs her knees each side of my hips, facing me, arms around my neck. Her tongue touched my cheek. “You’re all salty too. You need a shower.”

  I put my arms around her and hitched her closer. At that moment Laura, sleep hair, pyjamas and jandals, wandered into the kitchen.

  “Not again,” said Laura irritably when she saw me and Jess snuggling up. Typical of her. She’d been saying that sort of stuff all week, right from when I got here.

  She’s not stupid, and it’s not that she’s even bad looking or anything. She looks a lot like Jess, same eyes, same height, but her hair’s a bit darker. She’s way curvier too, not fat, but she’s got breasts and hips. The other difference is Jess is nice, and Laura’s abrasive most of the time.

  “What the hell’s wrong with her?” I muttered to Jess.

  “She’s always like that. Don’t worry about it,” said Jess.

  Laura wandered over to the toaster and snagged a bit of toast. “It’s bad enough I have to belong to this family without my sister hooking up with the weirdest kid in the school.”

  I wrapped my arms further around Jess and pulled her closer, just to piss Laura off more than anything. She’s a bitch.

  “Isaac’s not weird. He’s nice.” Jess wiggled even closer. “I like him.”

  By then, being able to move away from the table, or do anything in the next half hour, had way gone anyway even if it was allowed.

  “I don’t see why the rest of us have to watch,” said Laura.

  “Be nice, sis.” Denis got up and took the slice of toast. “You could have someone here too if you were nicer to people.” Laura mooched off to the lounge without any comeback for once. Denis put more bread in the toaster and pushed the lever down. “At least that shut her up.” He looked up through the lounge at the bedroom door.

  “Incoming.” Then went back to the toast and slathered on the peanut butter. Jess slid off my thighs as her mum drifted through the lounge tying up her dressing gown.

  “Good morning.” She wandered over to the kettle, filled it, and flicked it on. “Have you been out surfing already?” She gave a bit of a stretch and a yawn.

  “Yeah.” Jess picked up the towel again. “We went early because Dad’s taking us water skiing later.”

  “So,” he said, “are you going to the dive school to see about Isaac doing the course with you and Denis?” She got two mugs out of a cupboard and put them on the bench.

  “We did it yesterday when we went into Whitianga.”

  Her mother found the plunger and made coffee. She looked around the mess in the kitchen holding the coffee cups and the plunger.

  “Tidy this up before you go anywhere else,” she said mildly then wandered back to the bedroom.

  I just can’t imagine my mum doing any of that.

  She’d be up and dressed.

  She’d have rung the dive school herself.

  And as for the state of the kitchen? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

  We finished breakfast and tidied up a bit. By then Jess’s dad was up and three of Denis’s mates had arrived. They’re all in the same class as me and Denis. I can’t figure why Denis is friends with them, especially Logan. Logan’s built like a truck and started to make other kids life a misery at primary school by stealing their rubbers and pencils. He’d progressed since then. They were going to sleep in a tent and in Logan’s mum’s station wagon. I wasn’t too upset they wouldn’t be in the sleepout with us.

  Anyway, Jess’s dad got the old tractor out of the garage, towed the boat between the sand hills, and launched off the beach.

  Jess and I were standing waist deep in the water each side of the boat holding it steady, wet suits half on, rubber arms dangling in the water and swirling when we jumped with a wave. They were bloody hard to get on those wetsuits, all still wet from the surfing.

  Denis wound up the cable, and Laura climbed in the boat with rubber arms like an extra pair of legs. She looked like a cockroach. But she’d been a bit nicer to everyone since Denis’s comment.

  Another wave rose past us, and I saw Jess get smashed hard against the side of the boat as she jumped.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” Jess rubbed her head.

  “I could come around your side and help.” Another wave and the boat surged again, our feet left the bottom. We went about a metre closer to the shore, but the boat was still in no danger of getting beached.

  “For fuck’s sake, there’s two of you. Hold onto it.” Laura sounded irritated for no apparent reason again.

  I’d had enough of her. It was like she couldn’t even stand us talking to each other.

  “Back off, Murphy.” It was the first time I’d called her Murphy.

  “Up you, Coleman.” She sounded really shitty now. I might stick with the Murphy though. It looked like it pissed her off. “Just hold the bloody thing still.” She leaned over the side and clipped on the ski rope.

  The cable was wound up, the tractor and trailer were parked above the high tideline, and Denis and his dad climbed into the boat. His dad started the motor. Me and Jess waded out of the water and up the sand. Our turn to ski after Laura and Denis had had a turn.

  The dry sand was hot on bare feet, and we ran until we got to the grass
.

  Denis’s mates were sitting there. Jess flopped down. I sat with her.

  “Coleman, haven’t seen you here before,” said Logan.

  “Yeah.” Kyle turned to Jess. “Jess, why him, not me?”

  “You can’t play the guitar,” said Logan. “Better dye your hair and put on some eyeliner so you look beautiful.” Logan screwed up his face and did this thing with his hand. It was meant to look like someone putting on mascara. I’d heard it all before and didn’t say anything.

  “Neanderthals,” Jess said to them.

  Chapter Seven

  Wednesday, 1st January

  Last night was New Year’s Eve, and we all went to the concert at the Coroglen Tavern. We saw Jimmy Barnes. He’s been around for as long as I’ve been alive. As long as Mum and Dad have been alive actually.

  “You have to go,” said Jess. “It’s a family tradition.”

  “Okay.” I would watch him because Jess wanted to and that’s about it.

  We all piled onto the tray of Denis’s ute. Well me and Logan and his mates did. Jess and Laura were in the cab with Denis.

  I’d managed to avoid those mates for the last few days, but somehow this happens. That’s what comes of not having your own car.

  But Logan surprised me. “Hey Coleman, what’s with Laura?” he asked, like suddenly we were friends. He was leaning back against the cab, hairy legs sticking out below his shorts, and jandals on his feet. He took a swig from the beer he was holding.

  “What do you mean?” I was sitting at the other end of the tray, hanging onto the side, thinking bloody Denis had better not take any of the corners too fast. It felt like I could come off. The pine trees flashed by in the dark and the moon appeared flickering in the gaps.

  Logan shrugged. “She might like the same stuff her sister does.”

  “Haven’t seen any signs of that,” I said. I was pretty sure anything Jess liked, Laura would go the other way on principal.