Auggie & Me (14 page)

“‘Seven Nation Army'?” answered Mr. Bowles, like he was impressed by the song choice. “That's an awesome song, Elijah.”

“Is that by Europe, too?” John asked, since we'd all agreed a few weeks ago—after much arguing—to play “The Final Countdown” by Europe at the spring concert.

Elijah snickered and made a face. “Dude,” he answered, not looking at John or me. “It's the White Stripes.”

Elijah had long blond hair that he was really good at talking through.

“Never heard of them!” John said cheerfully, which I wished he hadn't said. Truth is, I hadn't heard of them, either, but I knew enough to pretend I knew them—at least until I could download the song tonight. John wasn't so great at the social stuff that goes on inside a rock band. Lots of group dynamic stuff to sort out. You have to kind of just nod and go along if you want to fit in. Then again, John wasn't very good at fitting in that way.

Elijah laughed and turned around to tune his guitar.

John looked at me over his little round glasses and made an “Is it me, or are they crazy?” face.

I shrugged in response.

John and I had become our own little group inside this rock band. We hung out together during breaks and made jokes, especially since the other three guys hung out together and made their own jokes. Every Thursday after school, I'd go over to John's house and we'd practice together, or we'd listen to some classic rock songs so we could sound like we knew as much about rock music as the other guys. And then we'd make suggestions about what songs we could play. So far, we had suggested “Yellow Submarine” and “Eye of the Tiger.” But Elijah, Harry, and Ennio had nixed them both.

That was fine, though, because I was really into “The Final Countdown,” which had been Mr. Bowles's suggestion.
It's the final countdown!

“I don't know, guys,” Mr. Bowles said. “I'm not sure there's going to be enough time between today and Wednesday to learn a brand-new song. Maybe we should stick to ‘The Final Countdown' for now?” He played the opening notes of that song on the keyboard, and John started bopping his head.

Then Elijah started playing a great riff on his bass, which turned out to be the opening of “Seven Nation Army.” As if on cue, Harry and Ennio started playing, too. It was pretty obvious that they had practiced the song a lot of times before today. I have to say, they sounded amazing.

Somewhere in the second chorus, Mr. Bowles put his hand up for them to stop jamming.

“Okay, dudes,” he said, nodding. “You're sounding absolutely awesome. Killer bass, Elijah. But everyone's got to be able to play the song for the spring concert, right? These two dudes need a chance to learn the song, too.” He pointed at me and John.

“But it's just basic chords!” said Elijah. “Like C and G! B. D. You do know D, right?” He looked at us like we were an alien species. “You seriously can't do that?”

“I can do that,” I answered quickly, forming the chords with my fingers.

“I hate the B chord!” said John.

“It's so easy!” said Elijah.

“But what about ‘The Final Countdown'?” John whined. “I've been practicing that for weeks!”

He started playing the same opening part that Mr. B had just played, but he honestly didn't sound that good.

“Dude, that was awesome!” said Mr. B, high-fiving John.

I noticed Elijah smiled at Harry, who looked down like he was trying not to laugh.

“Guys, we have to be fair here,” said Mr. B to Elijah.

“Here's the thing,” answered Elijah. “We can only play one song at the spring concert, and we want it to be ‘Seven Nation Army.' Majority rules.”

“But it's not what we
said
we were going to play!” yelled John. “It's not fair that you guys agreed to play ‘The Final Countdown,' and me and Chris have spent a lot of time learning it . . .”

I have to admit, John had guts talking back to a sixth grader like that.

“Sorry, dude,” said Elijah, fiddling with his amp. But he didn't seem sorry.

“Okay, let's settle down, guys,” said Mr. B with his eyes closed.

“Mr. B?” said Ennio, holding up his hand like he was in class. “The thing is, this is going to be our last spring concert before the three of us graduate.” He pointed his drumstick at Harry and Elijah and himself.

“Yeah, we're going to middle school next year!” agreed Elijah.

“We want to play a song that we feel really good about,” Ennio finished. “‘The Final Countdown' doesn't represent us musically.”

“But that's not fair!” said John. “This is an after-
school
rock band. Not just
your
band! You can't just do that!”

“Dude, you can play whatever you want next year,” Elijah answered. He looked like he wanted to flick John's glasses off his face. “You can play ‘Puff the Magic Dragon' for all I care.”

This made the other guys laugh.

Mr. Bowles finally opened his eyes. “Okay, guys, enough,” he said, holding up his hands. “Here's what we're going to do. Let's see how well you two pick up ‘Seven Nation Army' today and tomorrow.” He said this while pointing at me and John. “We'll practice it a little today. We'll also tighten up ‘The Final Countdown.' Then, tomorrow, we'll see which song sounds better. But I'm going to be the one to make the final decision which song we play, okay? Sound good?”

John nodded yes eagerly, but Elijah rolled his eyes.

“So, let's start with ‘The Final Countdown,'” said Mr. Bowles. He clapped his hands twice. “From the beginning. Let's go, guys. ‘The Final Countdown'! From the top. Ennio, wake up! Harry! Elijah, get us going, man! On four. A one. Two. Three . . .”

We played the song. Even though Elijah and the other guys weren't into it, they totally rocked it. In fact, we sounded pretty amazing together, I thought.

“That sounded awesome!” said John when it was over. He held his hand in the air to high-five me, which I did a little reluctantly.

“Whatever,” said Elijah, shaking his hair off his face.

We spent the rest of the class running through “Seven Nation Army.” But John kept making mistakes and asking us to start over. It didn't sound good at all.

“You guys sound terrific!” said John's mother, who had just come in the band room. She tried to clap while holding her wet umbrella.

Mr. B looked at his watch. “Whoa, it's five-thirty? Oh man! Dudes, I've got a gig tonight. We have to wrap this up. Let's go. Everything in the lock room.”

I started putting my guitar in the case.

“Step on it, guys!” said Mr. B, putting the mics away.

We all hurried up and put our instruments in the lock room.

“See you tomorrow, Mr. B!” said John, who was the first to be ready to leave. “Bye, Elijah, bye, Ennio, bye, Harry!” He waved at them. “See you tomorrow!”

I saw the three of them shoot each other looks, but they nodded goodbye to John.

“Bye, Chris!” John said loudly from the door.

“Bye,” I mumbled. I liked the guy, I really did. One on one he was awesome. But he could be so clueless, too. It was like being friends with SpongeBob.

After John and his mother had left, Elijah went up to Mr. Bowles, who was wrapping up the mic cords.

“Mr. B,” he said, ultra politely. “Can we please play ‘Seven Nation Army' on Wednesday night?”

At that moment, Ennio's mom arrived to pick up the three of them.

“We'll see tomorrow, dude,” Mr. Bowles answered distractedly, throwing the last of the equipment into the lock room.

“Yeah, you're just gonna choose ‘The Final Countdown,'” said Elijah, and then he walked out the door.

“Bye, guys,” I said to Harry and Ennio as they followed Elijah out.

“Bye, dude,” they both said to me.

Mr. B turned the key in the lock room. Then he looked at me, like he was surprised I was still there.

“Where's your mom?”

“I guess she's running late.”

“Don't you have a cell phone?”

I nodded, fished my phone out of my backpack, and turned it on. There were no texts or missed calls from Mom.

“Just call her!” he said after a few minutes. “I've got to get out of here, dude.”

Just as I was about to call, my dad knocked on the band-room door. I was totally surprised. He's never picked me up from school on a Monday before.

“Dad!” I said.

He smiled and walked in. “Sorry I'm late,” he said, shaking out his umbrella.

“This is Mr. Bowles,” I said to him.

“Nice to meet you!” said Mr. B quickly, but he'd already started out the door. “Sorry, I can't stay and chat. You've got a nice kid there!” Then he left.

“Don't forget to lock the door behind you, Chris!” he yelled out a second later from down the hallway.

“I will!” I said, loud enough for him to hear me.

I turned to Dad. “What are you doing here?”

“Mom asked me to get you,” he answered, picking up my backpack.

“Let me guess,” I said sarcastically, putting on my jacket. “She went to Auggie's house today, right?”

Dad looked surprised. “No,” he said. “Everything is fine, Chris. Pull your hood up—it's raining hard.” We started walking out the door.

“Then where is she? Why didn't she bring me my stuff?” I said angrily.

He put his hand on my shoulder as we kept walking. “I don't want you to worry at all, but . . . Mommy got in a little car accident today.”

I stopped walking. “What?”

“She's totally fine,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Nothing to worry about. Promise.” He motioned for me to keep walking.

“So, where is she?” I asked.

“She's still in the hospital.”

“Hospital?” I yelled. Once again, I stopped walking.

“Chris, she's fine, I promise,” he answered, pulling me by the elbow. “She broke her leg, though. She has a huge cast.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.” He held the exit door open for me while opening his umbrella. “Pull your hood up, Chris.”

I pulled my hood over my head as we hurried across the parking lot. It was really pouring. “Was she hit by a car?”

“No, she was driving,” he answered. “Apparently, the rain caused some flooding on the parkway, and a construction truck hit a ditch, and Mom swerved to avoid hitting it but then got sideswiped by the car in the left lane. The woman in the other car was fine, too. Mommy's fine. Her leg will be fine. Everyone is fine, thank God.”

He stopped at a red hatchback I had never seen before.

“Is this new?” I said, confused.

“It's a rental,” he answered quickly. “Mom's car got totaled. Come on, get in.”

I got into the backseat. By now my sneakers were soaking wet. “Where's your car?”

“I went to the hospital straight from the train station,” he answered.

“We should sue whoever was driving that construction truck,” I said, putting my seat belt on.

“It was a freak accident,” he muttered. He started driving out of the parking lot.

“When did it happen?” I asked.

“This morning.”

“What time this morning?”

“I don't know. About nine? I had just gotten to work when they called me from the hospital.”

“Wait, did the person who called you know that you and Mom are getting a divorce?”

He looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Chris,” he said. “Your mom and I will always be there for one another. You know that.”

“Right,” I said, shrugging.

I looked out the window. It was that time of day when the sun's gone down but the streetlights haven't come on yet. The streets were black and shiny because of the rain. You could see the reflections of all the red and white lights of the cars in the puddles along the highway.

I pictured Mom driving in the rain this morning. Did it happen right after she dropped me off, or when she was driving back to school with my stuff?

“Why did you think she was on her way to Auggie's house?” Dad asked.

“I don't know,” I answered, still looking out the window. “Because Daisy died. I thought maybe—”

“Daisy died?” he said. “Oh no, I didn't know that. When did that happen?”

“They put her to sleep last night.”

“Had she been sick?”

“Dad, I don't know any details!”

“Okay, don't bite my head off.”

“It's just . . . I wish you had told me about the accident earlier in the day! Someone should have told me.”

Dad looked at me in the rearview mirror again. “There was no need to alarm you, Chris. Everything was under control. There was nothing you could have done anyway.”

“I was waiting for Mom to come back with my stuff all morning!” I said, crossing my arms.

“It was a crazy day for all of us, Chris,” he answered. “I spent the day dealing with accident reports and insurance forms, rental cars, going back and forth to the hospital . . .”

“I could have gone to the hospital with you,” I said.

“Well, you're in luck,” he said, drumming the steering wheel. “Because that's where we're going right now.”

“Wait, we're going to the hospital?” I said.

“Mom just got discharged, so we're picking her up.” He looked at me in the mirror again, but I looked away. “Isn't that great?”

“Yeah.”

We drove quietly for a few seconds. The rain was coming down in sheets. Dad made the windshield wipers go faster. I leaned my head against the window.

“This day sucked,” I said quietly. I blew some hot air on the window and drew a sad face with my finger.

“You okay, Chris?”

“Yes,” I mumbled. “I hate hospitals, that's all.”