only thing different is Foster. Five years ago he wouldn’t give you the time of day, remember? Now he’s trying to rope you into a big loan you don’t want and don’t need.”
“Or maybe,” he said, his face darkening, “maybe
you
don’t know anymore what I want or need.” Then he pounded down the stairs and out across the yard to the barn.
JANICE OPENED HER EYES to find her mother leaning over her. It was morning; but judging from the colour of the walls, it was too early to get up for school. Her mother was still wearing her housecoat, and the look on her face jolted Janice wide awake.
“It’s Mrs. Mitchell,” her mother whispered. “Cy’s aunt. She’s in the front hall. She wants to talk to you.”
Janice threw on some clothes and followed her mother down. Sure enough, Ruby Mitchell was standing by the front door in her brown cloth coat. She looked so tired and wired that Janice knew immediately that something terrible had happened.
Ruby’s face brightened with hope the moment she set eyes on her. “Cyrus,” she said, “have you seen him?”
Janice turned to her mother, and then back to Ruby, but it was Cyrus’s face she saw, outside the Three Links Hall last night. He was smiling like an idiot, drunk on his own good fortune. She had asked him to be careful. Like a lot of guys, he got stupid when he was happy.
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday, Mrs. Mitchell. We met at the hall after school and had a pizza. I came home about ten, I guess.”
“Well, I was just at the hall. I thought he had maybe slept there last night. He does that sometimes when—well, you know, he was a little upset—and so I went there and the door was locked, and I called his name and pounded on the door like I sometimes do, but he didn’t come down, and Istarted wondering if he was okay, or maybe he was hurt or sick or—” Ruby covered her mouth with a liver-spotted hand and took a deep breath. “I was wondering if maybe you had a key I could borrow …”
“I’ll come with you,” Janice said.
To a stranger, the change at the rehearsal space would not be apparent. It was a dusty room filled with drums, microphones, amplifiers and a threadbare collection of flea-market furniture. But Janice and Ruby understood right away. Cy’s equipment was gone. They walked together to the spot where his amplifier usually stood, and they stared at the bare wooden floor, which showed a clean rectangle the size of his Fender Dual Showman, outlined in dustballs and picks and broken strings, candy wrappers and crumpled set lists and song lyrics. It was like his gear had been vaporized, leaving only its shadow behind.
Janice turned in a circle to see if perhaps Cyrus had moved his amp to another spot. Beside her, speaking in a dream voice, Ruby said, “His amplifier, his little suitcase for his cords. It’s all gone.”
Janice walked to the window and looked out on the street. It was a sunny day, as fresh and clean as the morning after a storm. She and Cyrus had talked for hours last night about his quitting school and heading off soon to find a full-time band, maybe in Hounslow or even Toronto to start with, one day making a name for himself. But she never imagined he meant so soon. It didn’t seem possible. A part of her found it hard to believe he’d even been serious. He was good, probably the best musician in Wilbury; but there were any number of guitarists in Hounslow who could play circles around him, and Hounslow was as far away from the big time as you could get. Did he really believe he would become a star?
She turned to Ruby and said, “The amp weighs a ton. I know. I’ve helped him carry it. So he couldn’t get very far without wheels. He must be at someone’s house. You know, Seth has a car …”
Ruby felt a wave of relief. How could she have been so stupid? Cyrus had stormed out of the house, followed moments later by Isabel. Mystery solved. Izzy had picked him up and offered to let him stay at
“Or maybe,” he said, his face darkening, “maybe
you
don’t know anymore what I want or need.” Then he pounded down the stairs and out across the yard to the barn.
JANICE OPENED HER EYES to find her mother leaning over her. It was morning; but judging from the colour of the walls, it was too early to get up for school. Her mother was still wearing her housecoat, and the look on her face jolted Janice wide awake.
“It’s Mrs. Mitchell,” her mother whispered. “Cy’s aunt. She’s in the front hall. She wants to talk to you.”
Janice threw on some clothes and followed her mother down. Sure enough, Ruby Mitchell was standing by the front door in her brown cloth coat. She looked so tired and wired that Janice knew immediately that something terrible had happened.
Ruby’s face brightened with hope the moment she set eyes on her. “Cyrus,” she said, “have you seen him?”
Janice turned to her mother, and then back to Ruby, but it was Cyrus’s face she saw, outside the Three Links Hall last night. He was smiling like an idiot, drunk on his own good fortune. She had asked him to be careful. Like a lot of guys, he got stupid when he was happy.
“I haven’t seen him since yesterday, Mrs. Mitchell. We met at the hall after school and had a pizza. I came home about ten, I guess.”
“Well, I was just at the hall. I thought he had maybe slept there last night. He does that sometimes when—well, you know, he was a little upset—and so I went there and the door was locked, and I called his name and pounded on the door like I sometimes do, but he didn’t come down, and Istarted wondering if he was okay, or maybe he was hurt or sick or—” Ruby covered her mouth with a liver-spotted hand and took a deep breath. “I was wondering if maybe you had a key I could borrow …”
“I’ll come with you,” Janice said.
To a stranger, the change at the rehearsal space would not be apparent. It was a dusty room filled with drums, microphones, amplifiers and a threadbare collection of flea-market furniture. But Janice and Ruby understood right away. Cy’s equipment was gone. They walked together to the spot where his amplifier usually stood, and they stared at the bare wooden floor, which showed a clean rectangle the size of his Fender Dual Showman, outlined in dustballs and picks and broken strings, candy wrappers and crumpled set lists and song lyrics. It was like his gear had been vaporized, leaving only its shadow behind.
Janice turned in a circle to see if perhaps Cyrus had moved his amp to another spot. Beside her, speaking in a dream voice, Ruby said, “His amplifier, his little suitcase for his cords. It’s all gone.”
Janice walked to the window and looked out on the street. It was a sunny day, as fresh and clean as the morning after a storm. She and Cyrus had talked for hours last night about his quitting school and heading off soon to find a full-time band, maybe in Hounslow or even Toronto to start with, one day making a name for himself. But she never imagined he meant so soon. It didn’t seem possible. A part of her found it hard to believe he’d even been serious. He was good, probably the best musician in Wilbury; but there were any number of guitarists in Hounslow who could play circles around him, and Hounslow was as far away from the big time as you could get. Did he really believe he would become a star?
She turned to Ruby and said, “The amp weighs a ton. I know. I’ve helped him carry it. So he couldn’t get very far without wheels. He must be at someone’s house. You know, Seth has a car …”
Ruby felt a wave of relief. How could she have been so stupid? Cyrus had stormed out of the house, followed moments later by Isabel. Mystery solved. Izzy had picked him up and offered to let him stay at
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