holding a blue and purple one, biting her bottom lip.
“Just a bit, but the skirt is hot,” I replied. “Say, what happened to the cover band after . . . you know?”
She put the bandanas back into the drawer. “I’m not really sure. You want to hear a song from them? I think I have the only copy in existence, but it’s only music, and there’s no one singing.”
Bee went to the shelf and took a CD, putting it in the stereo. “I really have to convert it to an mp3 file.”
The music started and my mouth hung open. I would have lurched up food if I ate, but I was technically dead and didn’t have to eat anymore unless I wanted to.
“Bee . . . um . . . nothing.”
“You okay? Looks like you’re ready to faint. Take off the hood and I’ll feel your forehead.”
“No, I’m fine! The hood stays on. Besides, I can’t get sick. I’m dead, remember?”
I put my head between my knees as the acoustics started. I had never played that song on stage and there were no words to it until last year. It was only meant for one person, and somehow it landed in that one person’s possession.
“The kid who is on guitar is the one I was telling you about. Isn’t he amazing? I always wanted to go on stage and throw myself at him like a crazy groupie.” Bee sat down looking for her brush.
“Just don’t throw yourself to the lead singer of Mad Dogs, because Jeff is all kinds of nasty.” I hated the way Jeff picked up girls and tossed them. He called me a wuss and I called him a dirt dog. I would’ve punched him if he ever touched Bee.
“Not my type. I go for tall and blonde.” Bee got caught up in the music. She hummed and her soul inside me pulsated.
“So, how’d you score this?”
Bee fiddled with her hair, but it already looked pretty. “I wouldn’t say I scored it. It was in the car that night. My aunt gave it to me.”
“You and your cousin were close then?”
“As close as sisters, but we each had our secrets.”
A loud bang came from the door. “Come on, Bee, we’re gonna be late. I have your stuff. You decent?”
“Just throw it in. I have a tank on.” She put the brush down and went on to adjust her tank top.
I unlocked the door and Jaleb threw the t-shirt into the room, and then closed the door. I caught it and walked to where she sat.
“Is he still there?” Jaleb grumbled standing outside of her door.
She took the shirt and slipped it on over the tank top. “Yes. We have an hour’s drive to convince him not to kill me. He’s coming, kay?”
“Are you for real?”
“Yes, he won’t leave. So deal.”
“I’ll be in the truck waiting,” he grumbled and heavy footsteps stomped down the hall.
I texted Abe while Bee finished getting ready.
Top Hat, going to Manchester with my assignment. Should I know if any president was born there so I can stop and take pictures for you?
Will you be near Elm St? I’m quite fond of John Stark. Do you know his motto, boy?
Of course, just like you know you’ll miss me if I ascended.
I shall send Reina and I’ll be on alert. Stark’s motto is, Live free or die: Death is not the worst of evils. Remember that, boy!
Twelve
B ee kept her room in the original part of the farmhouse which had at least one advantage; she could sneak out the old door so her mother couldn’t see the leather skirt. I chuckled to myself over her still having an obsession with motorcycles and dressing the part. Only a select few knew. Looking at her you wouldn’t expect she would wear that kind of outfit. There was a rough interior to Bee.
“Now I know you’re not an old man, but just an idiot disguising your voice. Are you going to explain?” She darted her eyes from me to the house.
“Not particularly.”
“Hmph. I’ll find out sooner than later.”
Bee opened the door to her brother’s truck and pointed to the seat that was pushed forward and down.
“You’re kidding, right? How am I supposed to fit in there?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Just a bit, but the skirt is hot,” I replied. “Say, what happened to the cover band after . . . you know?”
She put the bandanas back into the drawer. “I’m not really sure. You want to hear a song from them? I think I have the only copy in existence, but it’s only music, and there’s no one singing.”
Bee went to the shelf and took a CD, putting it in the stereo. “I really have to convert it to an mp3 file.”
The music started and my mouth hung open. I would have lurched up food if I ate, but I was technically dead and didn’t have to eat anymore unless I wanted to.
“Bee . . . um . . . nothing.”
“You okay? Looks like you’re ready to faint. Take off the hood and I’ll feel your forehead.”
“No, I’m fine! The hood stays on. Besides, I can’t get sick. I’m dead, remember?”
I put my head between my knees as the acoustics started. I had never played that song on stage and there were no words to it until last year. It was only meant for one person, and somehow it landed in that one person’s possession.
“The kid who is on guitar is the one I was telling you about. Isn’t he amazing? I always wanted to go on stage and throw myself at him like a crazy groupie.” Bee sat down looking for her brush.
“Just don’t throw yourself to the lead singer of Mad Dogs, because Jeff is all kinds of nasty.” I hated the way Jeff picked up girls and tossed them. He called me a wuss and I called him a dirt dog. I would’ve punched him if he ever touched Bee.
“Not my type. I go for tall and blonde.” Bee got caught up in the music. She hummed and her soul inside me pulsated.
“So, how’d you score this?”
Bee fiddled with her hair, but it already looked pretty. “I wouldn’t say I scored it. It was in the car that night. My aunt gave it to me.”
“You and your cousin were close then?”
“As close as sisters, but we each had our secrets.”
A loud bang came from the door. “Come on, Bee, we’re gonna be late. I have your stuff. You decent?”
“Just throw it in. I have a tank on.” She put the brush down and went on to adjust her tank top.
I unlocked the door and Jaleb threw the t-shirt into the room, and then closed the door. I caught it and walked to where she sat.
“Is he still there?” Jaleb grumbled standing outside of her door.
She took the shirt and slipped it on over the tank top. “Yes. We have an hour’s drive to convince him not to kill me. He’s coming, kay?”
“Are you for real?”
“Yes, he won’t leave. So deal.”
“I’ll be in the truck waiting,” he grumbled and heavy footsteps stomped down the hall.
I texted Abe while Bee finished getting ready.
Top Hat, going to Manchester with my assignment. Should I know if any president was born there so I can stop and take pictures for you?
Will you be near Elm St? I’m quite fond of John Stark. Do you know his motto, boy?
Of course, just like you know you’ll miss me if I ascended.
I shall send Reina and I’ll be on alert. Stark’s motto is, Live free or die: Death is not the worst of evils. Remember that, boy!
Twelve
B ee kept her room in the original part of the farmhouse which had at least one advantage; she could sneak out the old door so her mother couldn’t see the leather skirt. I chuckled to myself over her still having an obsession with motorcycles and dressing the part. Only a select few knew. Looking at her you wouldn’t expect she would wear that kind of outfit. There was a rough interior to Bee.
“Now I know you’re not an old man, but just an idiot disguising your voice. Are you going to explain?” She darted her eyes from me to the house.
“Not particularly.”
“Hmph. I’ll find out sooner than later.”
Bee opened the door to her brother’s truck and pointed to the seat that was pushed forward and down.
“You’re kidding, right? How am I supposed to fit in there?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
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