From the Top - Chapter 6

Monday morning, I drove back up to Willie’s house. He’d had to go to Nashville for some kind of treatment on Thursday, and he didn’t get back until Sunday night, so I wanted a chance to spend some real time with him. Normally, I waited until the afternoon to visit, in case he was sleeping in; but I had band practice later, and I still needed to pack for the drive to Indianapolis. So, I’d texted ahead to Keenan to make sure he was up.

I was surprised when Keenan, who looked tired most of the time I visited, opened the door smiling, almost bouncing.

“Hey, Charlie,” he said, stepping back, letting me in.

“You’re in a good mood,” I noted. “Did things go well in Nashville?”

“They really did. His doctor sent him for some kind of experimental treatment, and it really seems to be working. That first day I thought it was going to be terrible with how sick the medicine made him, but the next morning he was so much better. He ate a full meal yesterday, which hasn’t happened in forever. We still have a ways to go with it, but it’s such a good sign.”

“Really? Man, that’s great.”

I may not have been thinking about it consciously, but I think deep down I’d already started preparing myself for Willie’s death. He looked so weak each time I visited, and recovery hadn’t even seemed in the realm of possibility. I didn’t know much about cancer, but stage four sounded serious … like, the point of no return.

“So, he’s going to beat it?” I asked.

“It’s too early to say that. We need to go down to Asheville in a few weeks to get new labs and X-rays done, and then we’ll know more. But, it’s a good first step.”

“Wow. That’s really exciting.”

“I know. Anyway, he’s still supposed to be resting, so I’ve convinced him to stay in bed, even though he says he’s good enough to come sit out here. Go on back and see if you can convince him not to overdo it.”

“I’ll try,” I said. “But we both know how stubborn he can be.”

“Too true,” he said, with a laugh, giving my shoulder a friendly pat as I made my way by him.

Besides Willie feeling better, it was nice seeing Keenan in a good mood for once. I know I was really feeling upset about Willie’s condition, but considering Keenan had known Willie his whole life and treated him almost as some kind of grandfather, rather than just a great uncle, it had to be a lot harder on him.

Willie was in bed, like usual, but he was sitting up, propped against the headboard, instead of lying down, smiling when I walked in. I could instantly see what Keenan meant when he said Willie was feeling better. His face looked more relaxed, less pained than it had on my previous trips, and his skin had lost some of the grayish tone it had had.

“You’re looking good,” I said.

“I’m feeling pretty good. I thought that medicine they gave me was going to kill me, but after a few days, it really pepped me up. Now, tell me how Saturday went.”

“It went really well. The crowds were as good as always. I haven’t played there since last fall, so I think we were new to most of the people. I swear I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad show there.”

“Good, good. Did Eugene set you up with any more shows in the future?”

“No, and I’m not sure he will. He basically disappeared the minute we got there, leaving his manager to run everything. It’s the first time I’ve ever played there that he hasn’t been around, trying to do everything. It was weird.”

“I see,” Willie said, looking serious.

I was pretty sure he’d just had the same thought I’d had on Saturday, that Eugene knew exactly why my shows were getting canceled, and had only allowed me to play as a favor to Willie. While it was nice to have some validation, I didn’t actually want to bother Willie with my problems.

“I really appreciate you setting it up. The guys were starting to really get worried, and I think finally getting to play somewhere other than the Blue Ridge is going to ease their anxiety a little bit.”

“Good. Good, I’m glad. I’ve actually got two more shows set up for you when you get back from your trip.”

“Really? I appreciate it, but you need your rest, Willie.”

“Nonsense. You just said how I was lookin’ all healthy, so clearly, it didn’t do me no harm, did it? One’s going to be a little bit of a drive, but you played there with me that one time, so you should do all right.”

“Thanks, Willie.”

“I’m more than happy to do it. I’m so proud of all the work you’ve done; it would be a shame if others didn’t get to see everything you’ve been working on. So tell me about this week. You leave tomorrow?”

“Yes. Hanna got in last night, and the three of us leave in the morning. Kat’s bouncing between being excited and completely terrified, but I think she’ll be okay once she gets in the pool. It’s the one place her anxiety has never bothered her.”

“Make sure you tell her I’m proud of her too. Ever since you started bringing her around, it was clear to me what a joy that girl is. Her gettin’ the chance to do something like this, well … it’s a big opportunity. You kids are doin’ all right and that gives me some hope for the future.”

I just kind of shrugged, not sure how to respond to that. Willie, probably taking pity on my discomfort changed the subject, saying, “Now, last time you were here, we talked about the new song you’re working on. I’d like to hear some of it, see where you are.”

“It’s not really ready for anyone to hear,” I said. “I’ve only got the hook and the first couple of verses. I haven’t even worked out the full melody yet. I’m still just playing around with it.”

“Well then, all the better. For an old stagehand like me, it kills me not being able to work on music. I may not have it in my fingers to play no more, but I can at least listen to what you’re doin’ and see if I can’t give you some thoughts.”

Normally, I’d demur again and eventually try to find a way to change the subject since I didn’t like playing a new song I was working on until I at least had the basic frame of it done. But I couldn’t say no to Willie. He may have looked a lot better, but I knew he wasn’t exactly better. I couldn’t imagine how it must have been, having the desire to play and not being able to, so it really was the least I could do for him. Besides, I owed him more than I could ever really repay.

I picked up Willie’s guitar and pulled a chair over next to Willie’s bed, like always.

“It’s still really rough,” I cautioned as I got settled. “I’m still figuring out how I want it to sound.”

Willie waved his hand, “That don’t matter. Play me what you got so far.”

I took a deep breath and started playing the intro. It actually worked well on an acoustic guitar, since it had been designed to be soft, playing alone before any other instruments came in. I played through the first two verses, which I felt pretty good about, and stopped. I’d written some more lyrics, but I hadn’t quite figured out the music cue for the next part.

When I finished, he leaned back against his pillow. “I can hear what you’re going for. There’s a real sad quality to it. I can feel the blues in it.”

“Yeah, that was part of my inspiration.”

“Mm-hmm, I can hear that. You’ve got some real good lines in there. I also like how it starts off real sparse and then fleshes out some. Keeps it interesting.”

“I’ve got what I think are good lyrics for the next part, but I don’t want to keep the melody steady from verse two into the chorus and verse three. The problem is, I already made a change from the intro into verse one and building into verse two. I don’t want to have the music all over the place either.”

“It won’t be all over the place. You can play off what you did from the intro into verse two with a bigger chorus, something with some punch to it,” he said, and then paused to think. “Maybe a key change, going into C major and open it up with a harder beat and some bigger chords. You don’t normally build into a verse, you build to the chorus, so keep going. If you’re worrying you’re getting ahead of yourself, you can always pull back after the chorus and start building again so the next time you hit the chorus, it’s consistent.”

I found myself nodding along to what he was saying, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Willie smiled, “You got the hard part down; the words are really good. Now you just gotta build up the music to really sell ‘em.”

We talked more about some possibilities for the chorus and how to transition into a third verse. Willie suggested I try modulating back down to the original key to keep it cohesive. It was the kind of stuff I thought Rowan might have suggested if he was still helping me work on music. It must have come from experience because none of it occurred to me, and I’d been thinking about it for weeks. By the time we stopped, we had the chorus and the third verse worked out, and I was just about ready to get into the bridge. It was a solid day’s work in just about an hour, thanks to Willie.

He was, however, starting to look tired. Happy, but tired.

“I think we should stop here. You need to get some rest.”

“Fine,” he said grudgingly. “But I want to hear more of that when you finish it, okay?”

“I promise.”

He was already starting to drift off as I left his room. It was great to see him looking so much better, having enough energy to sit down and work on music again. It almost felt like old times.

***

The drive to Indianapolis took forever, but having Hanna in the car really helped. She’d stayed in Chapel Hill for an internship, so I hadn’t seen her since the end of my trial a month ago. I was happy she was thriving in college, but I’d really missed having her around the last year. Worse, she’d been even less present in my life since all my legal troubles ended than she had during the school year, when we’d talked a couple of times a week on the phone. I didn’t begrudge it, since I knew she had a lot going on with her internship, which was a great opportunity, but I’d definitely missed her.

So it might have taken eight hours to get there, but it wasn’t a lost eight hours. We were all pretty tired and talked out when we finally got into town, but we’d gotten a very early start so we had time to register and then get Kat to bed early.

The trials were being held on the campus of the Indiana University at their swimming facilities. The building itself was nice, but fairly nondescript. It was surrounded by trees and other sports fields that made up what I guessed was their athletic department. Parking was a nightmare. After the normal difficulty of finding a visitor space on a college campus, we were also competing with hundreds of other swimmers trying to get into the building to register.

I’d suggested we just drop Kat off so she could go register while we found a spot, but Kat was definitely against that idea. Instead, we ended up parking almost six blocks away and walking back to the complex.

Inside the building, it was even crazier. Although they had a huge pool in the center of the building, the place itself was kind of a maze, including one that had a hybrid volleyball court and basketball court that was being used for registrations, according to the signs that directed us that way.

The place was an absolute madhouse. There were stands on either side, but they were more or less unused, with the hundreds of swimmers packed on the floor itself, mostly surrounding the handful of folding tables.

I looked around, getting up on my tiptoes, trying to figure out where we needed to go next in the overcrowded gym. There were people everywhere, families, coaches, officials, and of course, the swimmers. So many swimmers.

It wasn’t hard to pick out the athletes from their friends and supporters. Most looked to be part of some school or swim club, with one or two others wearing matching tracksuits or jackets, making Kat the odd one out in her t-shirt and jeans.

We elbowed our way into the crowd, with me in the lead and Kat right behind me with a firm grip on the back of my shirt. I kept having to move my head back and forth, trying to see the signs taped in front of each folding table through the throngs of people, hoping to find the one Kat needed to go to.

Finally, I spotted the table labeled ‘K-N’.

“Found it,” I said, leaning back so Kat could hear me.

We stopped in front of the table, but there were still stacks of people, filling out paperwork or talking to the overwhelmed girl sitting behind the table, trying to listen to ten people all asking questions or talking at once.

Kat pressed up hard against my back as we stood there. At first, I thought she was just trying to get out of people’s way, trying to keep from getting smushed in the crush of people, but then I felt her trembling. Reaching around behind me, I got a light grip on her arm and pulled her around to stand next to me so we could talk. I put my arm around her and pressed her close to me, both for support and so she could hear me.

“You okay?” I asked, leaning in close so she wouldn’t have to yell.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said, her eyes darting around like a trapped animal.

“That’s nonsense. You’ve worked harder than anyone to get here.”

She didn’t say anything, but I could see she wasn’t really hearing what I was saying. It had been a while since I’d seen her like this, scared and overwhelmed instead of the confident girl who’d stood up to me a few weeks ago over talking to Willie. I could see her starting to spiral as the anxiety and self-doubt began to take over. Gently prying her hands off me, I turned her to face me.

“Kat, look at me. Take a deep breath,” I said, waiting until she met my eyes. “You have prepared for this. All the early morning practices, the late nights in the pool, the specific diet, and training regimen. You’ve done everything you could to be ready for this moment.”

Kat nodded, but I could see she was still tense, shoulders hunched, “But they’re …”

“Not important,” I said, interrupting her. “None of them matter. All that matters is doing your best. You’ve done everything you needed to do. No one could have done more. This is important, and I want you to do well, but what happens here this week doesn’t change who you are. If you make it, great. If not, you’ll have to settle for being the brilliant, funny, amazing girl I know. Whether you make this team or not doesn’t change who you are. Either way, I’m proud of you.”

“I …” she started to say, but just that moment the guy in front of us stepped away from the table.

Grabbing her hand, I pulled her with me, taking his spot before anyone else could jump in.

“Name?” the woman asked.

Kat took a deep breath and gave the woman her information. As she talked, getting answers to her questions and making sure she was signed up for all of the right races, I noticed the tremble was gone. She had her shoulders back, and she was focused again.

As backslides go, this one wasn’t that bad. Actually, it was expected. I didn’t have anything on the line, and even I could feel the pressure of the moment. This was a big deal. It’d be more concerning if she wasn’t nervous.

She’d gotten through it, and I knew that once she got in the water, the rest of the nerves would be shed. The pool had always been her sanctuary from all the stuff she’d been forced to deal with. She was going to be okay.

After she got registered, we headed to the hotel Hanna had booked for us. I wasn’t eighteen yet, so either Hanna or Kat was left with being the responsible adult for things like that.

We spent the rest of the night just talking, with Hanna and I changing the subject every time it veered back towards the first day of competition, wanting to keep Kat from dwelling on it.

We must have done a good job because when I met them the next morning for breakfast, she was looking focused and rested, completely ready for her first day of events.

The venue was just as much of a madhouse as it had been the previous day.

When we dropped Kat off at the dressing rooms, before finding our seats, I told her, “You’ve got this. Show them what you can do.”

“I will,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug before joining the flow of athletes heading into the locker rooms.

“She’ll do great,” Hanna said, standing next to me like we were proud parents, watching our kid head to college or something.

“Let’s go find our seats.”

The pool filled the center of the complex, and we knew we were in the right place the moment we got near the entrance; the strong smell of chlorine was overwhelming. The stands were narrow and everything was textured concrete and ridged metal, probably to keep injuries down since it seemed like every surface had water on it.

The stands themselves were already starting to fill up, but we managed to find seats that gave us a good view of the pool. The rest of the morning passed by in a blur of heats and qualifying rounds. Kat swam in race after race, advancing steadily through the preliminaries while Hanna and I cheered her on. By early afternoon, my butt was sore from sitting on the rigid metal benches, but I wasn’t going anywhere.

She was looking very good today. I wasn’t an expert on swimming, but I’d watched enough of her practices and heard the comments her coach made when she wasn’t doing well to know that her form was really good today. She also seemed to be swimming strategically—she kept pace with the leaders, never pushing herself more than she had to, knowing she had more heats ahead of her.

One of her competitors blew everyone away in the qualifier but fell so far behind in her next two events that she didn’t qualify for those, because of how tired she was. Kat played it smart, conserving her energy. Doing enough to move on but not so much that she wouldn’t have energy left to swim later.

During breaks, Hanna and I made our way down to the warm-up pool area to see her. She was in good spirits every time, all of the anxiety gone once she was in her element, just as I had predicted. Our job was to bring her cold water and snacks when she had breaks to keep her energy up and offer moral support.

Finally, we made it through the long day of prelims, both those she was involved in and others that she wasn’t part of, covering a half dozen events. Most would continue the next day, with their finals or semi-finals, except for the one-hundred-meter freestyle final, which was happening tonight. Kat had qualified for it, coming in second in the semi-finals.

Freestyle was her best form, and she was a medium-distance swimmer, preferring slightly longer races like the one-hundred and two-hundred over the fifty-meter, although she was competing in that one as well. The two-hundred had been her best in the past, but that event had only had a qualifying heat today and wouldn’t have its finals or semi-finals until Thursday.

Kat was in the eighth and final lane for the 100-meter freestyle final. As she stepped up onto the starting block, the energy in the massive natatorium was electric. I think I was more nervous than she was, based on how focused and serious her face looked, my palms were sweaty and my heart was going a mile a minute.

“Let’s go, Kat,” I yelled, not that she’d hear it over the cheering of the crowd.

The eight swimmers stepped onto their blocks. They’d all made the finals and trained just as hard as Kat, making this the real challenge. They were all just as focused as she was, and every one of them wanted to make the team. The top two of the eight people swimming would earn a spot at the Olympics, and they all wanted it.

The official held up a hand, and the stands quieted. We’d been warned, at the start of the day, that we had to be quiet at the start of races, so the swimmers could hear the buzzer. I reached over and grabbed Hanna’s hands, which were as clammy as mine.

The swimmers crouched down, gripping the edge of the blocks, tensing up. A moment of intense silence filled the arena.

Buuuzzzz.

The electric sound signaled the start of the race, and all eight women exploded off the blocks. The crowd roared back to life, everyone on their feet cheering as the swimmers sprinted through the first twenty-five meters.

Kat was in fourth place, drafting just behind the leader, arms a blur as she stroked hard. At the turn, she flipped underwater and launched herself in a single smooth motion, going a good ten meters almost like a dolphin before exploding back to the surface. As soon as she was on the surface, she started to really push, blowing past a swimmer to take third place.

“Come on Kat, you got this!” I shouted, even though there was no possible way she could hear me.

Kat battled the two lead swimmers, pushing past the next swimmer, almost head-to-head with the girl who’d held the lead since the beginning. At twenty-five meters, the other girl started to lose steam, having pushed too hard early on, while Kat chose that moment to kick on the afterburners.

She was like a machine, and the other girl was falling behind with each stroke. She was a shoulder’s length ahead by the twenty-meter mark, half a body ahead by the fifteen-meter mark. A few other swimmers tried to kick things up as they neared the wall, but it was obvious no one was going to touch her lead, not that Kat was giving up. She pushed even harder, seeing her goal was within reach. When her hand touched the wall, she was an entire body length ahead of the next closest swimmer.

The crowd was deafening, everyone on their feet as we watched the board. Kat treaded water, chest heaving as she caught her breath, gazing up at the board along with the rest of us. It took a few seconds for the times to flash up on the screen, the cheers almost drowning out the announcer as he called out the placements.

Kat was first, which was obvious to everyone. What hadn’t been obvious, since no one had looked at the clock on the scoreboard during the actual race, was just how fast she’d been. Next to her name, beyond just the first-place listing, was an indicator that her time was a new US national record. The next closest swimmer was a full second behind her.

I leaped in the air as soon as I realized what it meant, pulling Hanna into a massive celebratory hug, both of us jumping up and down like idiots. Kat threw her hands over her head as she saw it, looking from the water up toward the stands, a huge grin on her face. I gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up, since there was no way she’d actually be able to hear me over the crowd.

She’d not only won, she’d dominated. I was extremely proud of her.