Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [49]
I got the feeling he knew it too. A month earlier he’d seemed awestruck simply by breathing the same air as Dumb, but now he was correcting Kallie’s mistakes with a reassuring smile. When she struggled with a chord, he gently moved her fingers to the right place, maintaining the contact for so long I wondered why he didn’t just get down on one knee there and then. By contrast, Tash’s mistakes were addressed from a safe distance with no physical contact—probably a wise move for a boy who cracked the scales at an even 110 pounds.
I peered over my shoulder at Ed, who nodded somberly. Whatever his misgivings about Kallie, it was clear he saw the benefits of extra rehearsals with Finn. I wondered if Ed wished he could swap places with him. I hoped not.
The only sign of friction between the girls was when Finn brought things to a close and they both wanted to try out his guitar. At least, that’s how it seemed, and Finn was happy to oblige. It was a relatively new-looking guitar too, not like the battered one he’d bought himself at a garage sale when he was eleven. It also faced the opposite direction from the other guitars, presumably designed for left-handed players. I wasn’t actually sure I’d seen the new guitar before, which got me thinking about where it had come from. He handed it to Tash first, and she ran her fingers lovingly over the white body, gazed at the neck, and pulled a string with a rapturous expression. Then she gave it to Kallie, who was equally inspired by the moment. It was geek love with a twist.
I stifled a laugh and turned to ask Ed what he made of it, but he’d already gone. And while I certainly didn’t expect him to consult with me every time he moved, I realized it was the first time he’d ever taken off without telling me.
With a few minutes of lunch break left, I wandered into the classroom next door and opened up my laptop. Checking e-mail and Dumb’s MySpace page was becoming habitual, an itch that never went away no matter how many times I scratched. And it’s not like anything ever changed significantly either, although . . .
Dear Piper: Thank you for your kind message. At Seattle Today we have always striven to inspire our viewers by highlighting the goodness of the earth, and the warmth of our fellow human beings. After reviewing your materials and reading enthusiastic responses to your recent performance, award-winning host Donna Stevens would like to invite you to participate in next Tuesday’s show (November 5), which will focus on the positive contributions of youth in society, featuring no fewer than THREE child psychologists! While this is short notice, you will only be required to perform one song (“Loving Every Part of You” would be perfect) and answer a few informal questions afterward. Please let me know today if this is acceptable, as we have a fourth psychologist on standby.
Sincerely,
Tiffany Myers
(senior producer, Seattle Today)
P.S. We will provide an honorarium of $300.
Oh. My. God.
CHAPTER 31
There wasn’t time to get Dumb together to approve the show, so I wrote Tiffany back immediately and accepted the invitation, omitting to mention that we’d be using the occasion to return to our hard rock roots. I even threw in some extra fictional-but-complimentary phrases about the show (and other artists that had influenced us) to reassure her we were the kind of band she thought she was getting, rather than the kind of band we actually were. Lying smoothly was an art form that required diligence, but I was getting better every day.
Just before dinner that evening, I found Finn playing his new white guitar in the basement, Dad’s enormous old headphones wrapped over his head. I wanted to thank him for working