Solo

Sounds like a challenging moment.

I didn’t sign up for this circus.

None of us do. It’s family.

I just can’t wait to get outta here.

Be careful what you ask for. You can run, but you can’t hide.

You’re at the crossroads, Youngblood, looking for a ride.

One of your songs?

That’s life, son. Gotta be thankful for the hard and the easy. The good and the not-so.

Hard to be thankful when you’re living in hell.

Let me get this straight. You’re living up in Hollywood Hills with a pool and tennis court, and a lady to clean your underwear and cook you tacos on Tuesdays, and you’re living in hell. You got first world problems, Youngblood.

. . . .

You can run, but you can’t hide. You can run, but you can’t hide, you’re at the crossroads, Youngblood, looking for a ride.

Tell me something, Robert—why do you give all your money away to homeless people?

So they can eat, buy a book or two.

But what about you?

What about me?

Couldn’t you use the loot?

A wise man said, “You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way,” so I’m good.

If you ever need a place to crash, we got plenty of space.

I try to avoid hell, Youngblood.

Look, here’s a little something for you, I say, handing him a wad of hundreds.

I don’t do charity, Youngblood.

What happened to enriching and being generous?

You keep that, buy your girl some flowers or something.

You could get a new trumpet case or something, I add, trying not to show what I’m really suggesting, but he knows. Robert knows everything.

You still stunting on my teeth, Youngblood?

I’m just saying, it’s pretty cheap these days to get ’em fixed.

In another life, my first wife wanted new teeth. She asked all her friends and family for twenty-five dollars to help her find her smile. I didn’t give her a dime. The marriage didn’t last long, but good gracious did she get some pretty teeth.

Wanna play something?

I pick up my guitar.

He picks up his trumpet.

And when the song’s over,

and he’s not looking,

I throw my wad of cash

in his case

and hope he’s not mad

at me later.





Texts Conversation


11:14 am

Good morning, babe.

I miss you.

Guess what?

11:18 am

What’s up!

11:19 am

I got my assignment. My dorm’s next to yours. WOOHOO!

Also, shopping today???

11:19 am

Hint. Hint. Wink. Wink.

You could pick me up in your dad’s Maserati.

11:19 am

He won’t even know.

What time

should I be ready?

11:22 am

Oh . . .

Not sure

about today.

11:22 am

My parents are gone all day. All night.

Their anniversary.

11:23 am

Wow. Good to hear you have the day open for me. Finally.

11:24 am

Blade!

Seriously?

What’s up with you?

11:25 am

It’s just kinda weird.

It seems all I’m good for is buying stuff.

11:33 am

Hello, you there?

11:35 am

That was rude.

I can’t believe you’d even suggest 11:35 am

something so shallow and beneath my goodness. You offered before 11:36 am

so I just thought.

Never mind . . . TTYL.

11:37 am

Chapel, I’m sorry.

My bad. I’m just not myself right now.

11:40 am

You there?

Come back.





Voice Mail


Maybe tomorrow

we can cruise

to Malibu

have a picnic

by the sea.

I’ll even bring

my strings

and sing you

that graduation song.

Or we can feed

each other sorbet,

hit Rodeo Drive.

But only if

you forgive me . . .





Texts from Chapel


9:37 am

Okay. Morning!

I forgive you.

Get out of

9:37 am

your PJs pls and take

your girl for SORBETTTTTT

and Rodeo Drive!





Deliver Me


On my way

out the door two delivery guys show up

with a marble statue of a naked goddess.

I cower.

I don’t belong here, and the months-long wait

’til college is too long.

Can you deliver me someplace else, please . . . now? is what I want to say

to them.

I sign

for the Goddess Lakshmi while Storm unpeels

the protective plastic marches around her marble legs and marble breasts, comparing her figure to stone.

Her four hands represent the four goals of life, she says, rubbing the breasts, as if they’ll bring her wisdom or luck.

Oh, okay. Thanks for sharing.

Dharma and Kama, and the other two I forgot.

So, what, are you practicing Hindu now?

She’s the goddess of Wealth and Prosperity. Me and Dad ordered her for my party.

. . . .

Isn’t she beautiful, Blade?





My sister is beautiful


but not in the way she thinks.

She’s beautiful because she still believes our father’s

her hero.

She trusts

in his dreams

for her.

She naively believes she will be the next big thing and that her position in life is set in “stone.”

This makes me feel sorry for her

because she’s clueless.

She picks up

Mick and Jagger to celebrate the arrival of yet another Morrison absurdity, ceremoniously dancing around the statue, but the dogs get freaked out by Lakshmi’s four arms jump out of Storm’s and smash

right into her, sending the goddess tumbling

off her base

and crashing

to the floor

shattering

Storm’s dreams into a million little marble pieces.





Phone Conversation


What’s taking you so long?

Had a minor emergency at our house. Leaving now,

babe.

Everything all right?

Is it ever?





We’re at Rudy’s


the best ice cream

in Hollywood,

and I’m telling her how I honestly believe my old man

could finally be changing for the better

and that he swore

to us

he’d complete rehab— no more drink

no more drugs—

when a white van

pulls up

and out jumps

fire-breathing paparazzi with loaded cameras, pushed into our faces.

How’s it hanging, Blade?

Doing great. Now leave us alone.

We just got word Rutherford’s back in rehab.

Yep.

Good to know he’s getting help. We want him to live. It would be a rock-and-roll tragedy if . . .

Really. That’s enough.

We keep walking into Rudy’s.

But they follow us in like hyenas laughing,

dragons stalking.

Did you think your life was over when your old man crashed your graduation? He really knows how to liven up an event, another one chimes in.

Does it look like I think my life is over? I come at them with fists, but Chapel pulls me back.





When Doves Cry


I grip the steering wheel

like we’re driving through a hurricane.

You’re almost out of gas.

We’ll be fine, babe.

Where are we going?

As far away from this madness as possible.

Rodeo? She puts her hand on my leg to soothe me.

Not exactly.





Finding Robert


Chapel and I walk the pier

to find Robert, only he’s not there or in any

of his usual spots.

I ask James, who fishes on the pier every day, rain or shine, to help us

find Robert.

Try Leimert Park. They got a jam session going on tonight, he tells us.

Chapel whispers, Another day, Blade. I should probably get home.

It has to be today. You have to meet him today, I say.

Kwame Alexander, Mary Rand Hess's books