Playing by Ear (Country Roads #1) - Chapter 7

Sunday was more of the same except I got to work earlier to help the brunch crowd, which was half people from town and half people headed south out of the national park on their way back home. Instead of coming in early or staying late, Hanna had us there just in time for me to help prep in the kitchen and for her to prep her section.

By one, the lunch crowd had just about died down, just in time for Willie to show up. The Blue Ridge only had music on Friday and Saturday nights, so Willie normally didn’t come around except for those days, showing up in the late afternoon and playing until well after two in the morning. I felt terrible that he was coming up just to see me, but it turns out he had a small house one street over, making it a short walk. I felt even more guilty when I found out that he’d talked to Chef and now planned on coming up every day to work with me some after I finished my homework and training with Chef. He swore he didn’t mind, saying he spent most days just sitting around his house, working on music. He planned on doing the same thing, but just up at the Blue Ridge so he could explain what he was doing as he did it, or put me through technique exercises if he wasn’t feeling like working on anything.

The level that these two people, and Hanna who had agreed to take me up to the Blue Ridge or arrange a ride for me when she couldn’t, had gone to was overwhelming, especially considering I’d known all of them for less than a week.

The morning was set aside for brunch, where we made some of the typical lunch items along with breakfast stuff like bacon, waffles, and quiche. The Blue Ridge wasn’t normally open for breakfast, so this was the only day of the week where we made that kind of stuff. Considering we were on a stretch of highway between a major town and national park, I assumed it wouldn’t be that busy. I always associated brunch with places like LA and New York. Of course, knowing how busy the last two nights had been, I should have known better.

Since we were working a double, Hanna and I showed up just as brunch was started and hadn’t had to do the prep, and the parking lot was already packed. The kitchen was a madhouse. Typically someone new would be used as a gofer, getting things that everyone on the line needed and working prep in between, but with my foot, that wasn’t an option. Instead, they stuck me at garnish, where I guess I could slow the process down the least.

Brunch lasted until one, and even with my limited duties, I felt wrung out. Chef gave me an hour for lunch before he wanted me out back to train. I grabbed a plate of the family meal Diego had made for the kitchen and went out to the now cleared out dining room, where I found Hanna eating and doing homework.

“It’s Sunday,” I pointed out as I sat down.

“Congratulations, you can read a calendar.”

I’d learned by now that this wasn’t Hanna being mean, just her biting sense of humor.

“Yep, learned just last week,” I said, preening like a jackass. “What I meant was, why are you doing homework on Sunday?”

“Because it still has to be done, but this is extra credit stuff, not homework.”

“So, you’re one of those.”

“Not really. I was a low C student for my first two years, so my GPA sucks. I did okay last year, but if I want to get the hell out of here and into a half-way decent college, I need straight A’s this year.”

“If you don’t get your grades up, couldn’t you go to community college or something for a while and then transfer somewhere else?”

“Yeah, that’s an option, but I think I might want to go to law school after I finish my undergraduate, and that would make getting into one harder.”

“Law school?”

“Maybe. It’s something I’ve considered. I, at least, need the option.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Honestly, anywhere. I’m going to apply to UNCA, UNC, FSU, and State and maybe a few in Virginia or South Carolina. Honestly, I don’t want to go to UNCA since Ashville’s almost like not going anywhere, but mom’s making me apply there since they should be easier to get into than the main campus.”

“Man, I haven’t thought about college at all.”

“You still have time, but you should start thinking about where you want to go. More important, you gotta make sure your grades are good enough to get into any of those and make sure you have enough extracurricular. You don’t have to decide where to apply till the beginning of your senior year, but by then it’s almost impossible to catch up. I’m glad I started fixing my shit last year, or I would be stuck going to community college in Ashville. Even with that, I have to beg teachers for extra credit. Thankfully, I got a lot of extracurricular my freshman and sophomore years, but still....”

“Charlie!” Chef’s voice said, cutting across the now empty dining room.

“Gotta go. Good luck on the extra credit.”

She gave a half-wave as I got up from the table and took my now empty bowl back to the kitchen and handed it to the dishwasher.

“Here, Chef.”

“Good. Since your foot’s hurt, we have to just focus on conditioning. I’ll start teaching you some simple stuff, like how to punch right and some joint-manipulation, which you can practice at, but we’ll have to save the real stuff till you’re mobile. That’s not a bad thing, though, since you need to get into the place physically to put any of this to use for real.”

“Makes sense. I’m good with whatever you think is best.”

“Good. Let’s see if you still feel as chipper once we’re done here.”

The next hour and a half were pure hell. What was worse is that Chef kept saying how easy he was taking it on me, since a lot of what he would want me to do wasn’t possible until I got the boot off my foot.

He had me do some of the standard stuff I would have thought of like dumbbell exercises, a variety of variations on sit-ups, and low impact leg exercises like wall-sits. He also had me do stuff that I’d seen on TV but never in person like shaking two long and super heavy ropes in up and down patterns while sitting in a chair. It seemed pretty easy, but after a few minutes, I was sweating hard. By the end of the exercises, I felt like my arms were on fire.

By the end of the hour, I was completely soaked.

“Good,” Chef said as we finished up. “You did better than I expected, but tomorrow you’re going to need to push it. I wish I could get you to do some running, but that isn’t an option. I have a friend dropping off a hand crank, so you can get some cardio in. You brought a change of clothes?”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Good. You can go up to my apartment and take a shower. Then you can take a break for an hour before you have to start helping on prep for dinner.”

“Thanks, Chef.”

“No problem. You did good work today. Now get out of my sight.”

I was finding I liked his sportively gruff nature. A set of stairs let up the backside of the building. I was surprised to find his door unlocked, although it seemed unlikely that anyone could have gotten up there without being noticed.

The front room of the apartment was spartan, with a small dining slash kitchen area on one side featuring a plain brown table. The middle of the room had a couch, above which hung a drawing with monks, a mountainside, and some Chinese writing. Notably absent from the front room was a TV or any kind of electronics.

I peeked into the one door opposite the entrance, which turned out to be the bedroom and connected bathroom. I was surprised to see a towel laid out on the counter just outside the small bathroom. I took a quick shower and changed, making a mental note to ask Mom to pick up soap and shampoo I could keep in my bag, so I wouldn’t have to use up Chef’s.

The rest of the day was exhausting. During dinner, I was still training with Vinney working on the sides. I messed up plenty but felt more confident than my last couple of shifts. It wasn’t that doing one thing was particularly tricky. They had everything broken into steps, and as long as you followed those steps, everything should be fine. The hard part was that it had to all be the same, every time. Vinney drilled over and over that consistency was the key to making a restaurant work. The food had to be the same regardless of the person working in the kitchen. No one wanted a restaurant where they had to know who was cooking that day to know if it was good or not.

I also knew I was given training wheels since everyone else was moving around constantly, and I was rooted to one spot, thanks to my foot. I hoped that would give me a leg up once I was mobile again since I had more time to focus on learning specific things without the added distraction.

Lessons with Willie were once again a dream... the highlight of the night. I’d always enjoyed learning from people in the clubs, but back then, none of them had the time to answer that many questions, leaving me to figure it out on my own once they showed me once or twice.

Willie was patient and seemed to enjoy explaining things as much as I liked learning them. By the time I got home that night, I was utterly wrung out and yet in a fantastic mood.

Monday, I realized I hadn’t gotten the homework I’d been putting off done. Hanna gave me a few looks as I tried to do it in the car on the way to school, which was short enough that I only answered two math problems before we pulled into the parking lot. Considering our talk Sunday about her having to grind to make up for mistakes made her Freshman and Sophomore years, I could feel her wanting to say something about it to me.

Instead of heading directly into school and leaving me to catch up like she had the previous weeks, we waited for me while I wedged myself out of the car.

“Charlie, I...” she started to say before stopping as a tall kid I didn’t recognize came up to us from a car nearby.

“Hi, Hanna.”

“Marcus.”

“Do you have a second?”

“No. Charlie and I were talking, and then I need to get to class.”

He paused, looking over at me, considering. After a second, he seemed to come to a decision and looked back at Hanna.

“Okay, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out sometime.”

“No,” Hanna said and turned, brushing past him. “Come on, Charlie.”

I gave the guy a look I hoped read as compassion as I swung my crutches, following after her.

“That was a little brutal,” I said as I caught up to her.

“What? All I said was ‘no.'”

“So, who is he?”

“Marcus Holt, he’s on the Varsity baseball team. We have a few classes together.”

“So, he’s a jerk?”

“No, he’s generally okay.”

“He’s a dumb jock, then?”

“No, I mean, he’s not going to be valedictorian or anything, but he’s okay.”

“Then why not go out with him? I mean, I get it, you have your whole monk lifestyle of no dates and no social life, but considering you were just bugging me to ask out Rhonda just a few days ago, it doesn’t seem like you’re all in on that. I know you said you’d had bad luck with guys ‘cause you were dating the wrong type, but if he’s generally okay, not dumb and has those chiseled all-American boys looks, why not go out on one date and see?”

“Because I don’t want to have to deal with it. He’s a big shot on the baseball team and baseball is king here. It isn’t ‘just one date,’ it’s having to deal with that whole in crowd thing again. I don’t want to have to deal with those people ever again.”

“I get that, but it doesn’t have to be that way. If you have zero interest in him, then sure, don’t go out with him, but if you’re saying no just because you’re afraid of how it will affect you with other people, you’re kind of letting them win, aren’t you? I know something happened somewhere in your past that put you off dating and your old friends, but you can’t let that control your life.”

“I’m out of here at the end of the year anyway, so what’s the point?”

“I’m not suggesting you marry the guy, just go out on a date. Not everything has to be a lifetime decision. You’re in high school, go out and have some fun. You don’t want to look back on this part of your life and regret missing out on a part of it. I mean, you do what you want to do, I’m not going to pressure you or anything, I just think you shouldn’t shut yourself off from potential happiness because you’re afraid.”

“Maybe,” she said as we walked into the school and reached the main hallway. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you blowing off your homework.”

“Yes, Mother, I promise not to do it again.”

“Good. Go to class,” she said, smiling again and heading off in the other direction.

I just shook my head, watching her go. She was right about the homework, of course, but for that moment I was happy I had a friend looking out for me.

I’d sat with Rhonda and her friends again for lunch but zoned out for most of their conversations. I enjoyed spending time with her, and except for Camille, they were generally okay, but sometimes they hit on subjects about which I could honestly care less. Today’s topic was some round of gossip about one semi-famous person cheating on another semi-famous person with a third semi-famous person; two of which I’d never heard of, and towards all three of whom I was apathetic.

Still, it gave me time to think, mostly about what I’d said to Hanna. While I’d mainly been thinking about her decision to swear off dating for the rest of high school, the fact was, I was also wasting my opportunity. True, I still had three years of high school left, but those three years would pass by fast. Did I want to look back in three years and see I’d wasted a chunk of my high school experience worrying about Aaron and his friends or mom and me paying bills?

True, those were both important, but I was still a kid. Maybe it was okay to act like that sometimes. I may not be responsibility free, but I was responsibility light, at least more so than I would be at any time later in life.

“What’s up with you today?” Rhonda asked as we walked away from the lunch table towards our next classes.

“What do you mean?”

“You were just quiet.”

“I didn’t have anything to add to the conversation. I’m happy letting you guys do your thing, as long as I get to spend the time sitting next to you.”

She gave a half-grin and tilted her head, pushing her hair behind her left ear.

“You’re sweet.”

“I know,” I said with a stupid grin. “I thought I’d like to take you out this weekend, on a date.”

“Do tell.”

“That’s it, just that I think I’d like to go out with you. So how about it, wanna go out Saturday night?”

She stopped walking, forcing me to stop with her. She was quiet long enough that I thought I’d misread all the signals badly, and she was figuring out a way to let me down easy.

“Sure, I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll figure out a plan this week and let you know. I don’t have a license yet, so I’ll have to figure something out for that, too.”

“Yeah, I don’t either. I can probably get Jordan to take us, though.”

“Good idea. I’ll talk to her.”

“Great. It’s a date,” she said, putting her hand on my forearm and squeezing it before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

I practically floated to my next class.

“What’s up with you?” Hanna asked when I met her at her car after school.

“I’m in a good mood.”

“Yeah, I see that. I meant why?”

“I took your advice and asked Rhonda out on Saturday. She said yes, which reminds me, I have to ask Chef if I can work earlier, or have Saturday off.”

“Good for you. Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“Not yet. I told her I’d let her know the plan this week.”

“Well, don’t do the diner and a movie thing. That’s a terrible first date. Dinner is good, but then plan something where you can talk and get to know each other better. Save the movie for later when you can take advantage of being in a dark room together.”

“Okay, then what should we do? It’s not like a lot is going on around here. Rhonda doesn’t strike me as the outdoorsy type.”

“It depends on the girl. Your best bet is to talk to Jordan. She’ll probably have some ideas.”

“I’ll do that.”

We lapsed into silence for a few minutes as we headed towards the Blue Ridge for my training with Chef while I thought about my upcoming date.

“I also have some news,” Hanna said after a few minutes. “I found Marcus after we talked, and I told him I’d go out with him.”

“Really? Good. Why, though, you seemed so dead set against it?”

“You were right. I’m letting the shit that happened to me my sophomore year turn me into a spinster. It’s my senior year, and I should experience some of those things kids do in high school before I head off to college. Plus, he is pretty okay for a jock, and he’s easy on the eyes.”

“Good, I’m happy for you. When are you guys going out?”

“Saturday night. I’ll make sure you have a ride home after work.”

“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it, and I’m glad you changed your mind.”

It worked out easier than that. Hanna ended up trading shifts with one of the other servers to work lunch and the changeover while the other girl worked dinner for Hanna. Chef, in his gruff way, was okay with my needing to change schedules as well. He told me to also work lunch and the changeover, so I could get a ride home from Hanna and get ready for my date.

What he wouldn’t do was let me ease up on my training, instead of asking Hanna to drop me off an hour before any kitchen staff would generally be there to prep for lunch. He also made it a point to add multiple reps to the various exercises I’d been doing.

Beyond playing with other kids in the parks where we camped, I was never big on exercises. For some reason, however, now that I was working with Chef, I didn’t mind him pushing me so hard. He wouldn’t stay out with me, just give me a list of exercises to do, and occasionally come out and look to see if my form was good enough. Even though he upped my workout already and wasn’t checking on me, I was still pushing myself hard.

I had a daily reminder of how much it sucked to get my ass kicked, and I didn’t want it to happen again. Things were different now. Even though we’d traveled so much, I was sheltered. There was a weird community upbringing in the clubs, with all the backstage people, servers, and bartenders looking out after the kid traveling with his musician dad. In all those years, I never felt like I was in any real danger.

After my first week of school, I now had people who honestly wanted to hurt me and no system in place for protecting me. Hell, the system in place would punish me as much as the people attacking me if anything happened.

All that meant I needed what Chef was teaching, and if I was going to develop the skills, I needed to put in the work. Not that I didn’t hate the workouts. I hated every moment of them. I just knew I needed to push past that.

My workouts were done for the day, so Hanna took me home.

I was still up - just puttering around in my room - when mom came home, which was unusual. Ever since we’d moved into town and started a more normal type of life, she’d been on me to keep a better sleep schedule. She had laid down the law early on that she didn’t want me to do the normal teenage thing of trying to stay up till midnight or one every night and get up at six the next morning for school.

At some point, she’d watched some PBS show about sleep schedules and what it did to a growing brain, and it had stuck in her head. When we were living on the road, our schedule was pretty much set by my dad, which meant bed around four in the morning and sleep till some time afternoon. With their work schedule and my being homeschooled, that worked, even though mom regularly made noise about how it was terrible for my development or whatever.

Now that we were settled, though, she made it clear she wouldn’t tolerate me staying up till all hours. So I was usually in bed by ten on weekdays and midnight on weekends when I could sleep late. She worked her cleaning job on weekdays, which meant she was home after midnight, well after I should have been asleep.

“Why are you still up?” she asked, sticking her head into my room.

“I can’t sleep. I know it’s late, and I’ll try and get some sleep now.”

“You weren’t up practicing music, were you? I think it’s good you’re working, and I know you like lessons from the musician there, but if it’s going to start causing problems, then we’re going to have to rethink all this.”

“It’s not. I’ve been home since nine. I just had stuff on my mind that was keeping me awake.”

“Is something wrong?”

Her first instinct always seemed to be mama bear protective mode, assuming everything out of the ordinary was potentially a problem for us.

“No. Actually, something’s right. I’m just keyed up and need to settle down a little bit before I can go to sleep.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense. Is it something at your work?”

“No. Do you remember the girl I mentioned, Rhonda?”

“Yeah.”

“I asked her out. We’re going on a date on Saturday.”

“Well, that’s wonderful, Charlie, but you still need to be in bed. You have plenty of time to think about her in the morning. Don’t you work Saturday nights?”

“I talked to Chef. I’m switching and working lunch on Saturday so I can have the night off.”

“That was nice of him. You should be careful, though, and not take advantage of his generosity.”

“I know. When I asked her out, I wasn’t thinking. I’ll keep it in mind for next time.”

“So, should I meet this girl?”

“We’re going out on one date. How about we save meeting my mom until after we’re dating a while.”

She gave me a look for a moment, but whatever she was going to say, she just let drop.

“I just want to make sure she’s good enough for my baby.”

“MO-om...” I said in my best whiny teen voice.

“Does she drive?”

“No. Once I figure out what we’re doing, I’ll work out a plan. Hanna’s friends with her sister, who’s a senior. I was thinking about asking her if she’d drive us.”

“I know you and Hanna are friends, but why would the friend of a friend help you out?”

“She might not, but I figure it’s worth a chance. She’s the one who put in a good word for me with Rhonda, so she had a hand in this.”

“Why didn’t you just ask Hanna?”

“Cause she also has a date. There’s this baseball player who asked her out today. She was going to say no, but I convinced her it was worth a shot.”

“There’s a story there, I think.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know it. I just know she’s cut herself off from going out with other kids because of something that happened in her sophomore year. I convinced her that, while she should be careful and watch out for herself, she shouldn’t throw away all high school experiences, and this was her last chance since she’s a senior.”

“You should be careful there. Depending on what happened to her, dating could be really bad.”

“I don’t think it was anything like that, at least not how she talked about it. All I did was point out she was passing up an opportunity. She made up her own mind.”

“Okay. I think it’s good you’re thinking about other people, just be careful you don’t meddle too much. That tends to blow up in your face. Anyways, bed. Now.”

“Night, Mom. I love you.”

“Love you too, now go to sleep.”