hospital. Her dad was frustrated.
It was going to be ok, Todd.
A char scent sent my pan hand scrambling for the plate to unload the sandwich. It spun and tottered on the small plate, and Jenny put a hand out to steady it.
"Sorry," I responded, feeling helpless. I put the plate down, buttered some more bread, and she continued.
"It's not a real thing, but... I just thought I would tell you about it for when it comes up again." I dropped the bread and cheese into the pan. Sizzle. "It probably won't."
"You'll be coming with me and the band on tour and seeing the world, though, so we are all set," I replied. I wanted to save her.
"You're right! But what about college? What about what’s next for us. I don't even have a plan, but I know I have to have one. I applied to State, and the community college, and I did my SATs, and I have everything all lined up... but for nothing."
"Me too," flip the sandwich, "but you don't think that this is an option?"
She looked at me, and smiled, and shook her head back and forth as her hair danced around her face. She communicated so much in that one simple gesture. She was saying, 'you're crazy, but I love you so much' and 'you are a dreamer, but I love you so much,' and 'this is insane, but it just might work, and I love you so much.'
It also seemed like she was saying, 'you'll be playing music in your mom's basement for the rest of your life, and I really like playing around now, but this can't go on. I will find someone else and it will be glorious because even though I went to college I can pop out a few kids and live off of his salary and it will be a life of routine and repetition and it will all be wonderful. We will die and be buried next to one another on a green grassy knoll, and every year our grandchildren will plant blossoming geraniums and yawning lilies over our respective rotting corpses. We will be laying in the earth, facing the stars, only we won't know it because our hearts stopped beating decades earlier and the maggots had eaten our eyeballs out.'
"I love you, you know." There was sincerity in her voice, as well as the weight of all my imagined words in her face.
"I love you, too."
We walked into the living room with our sandwiches, and turned on the television. We landed on MTV. A song was playing, but the feed was immediately cut, and the spaceman appeared in a slate I had never seen before. Then, it cut to the spinning typewriter ball, then the N-E-W-S stamping on the screen.
Kurt Loder came on and began talking quickly.
"Hi, I'm Kurt Loder with an MTV News Special Report.
"The body of Nirvana leader Kurt Cobain was found in a house in Seattle this morning, dead of an apparently self-inflicted shotgun blast to the head. Police found..."
Our intimate moment turned stifling and claustrophobic. The words coming out of his mouth became a jumble of nothing, cotton balls speeding by with details and figures as our beloved figurehead was...what was the word he used? Dead?
I froze, connecting only with a supposed reality that played out in front of me; an alternate reality where the work of fate and a terrible series of events hung over us, and the weight of the moment, oh, the weight.
The special report cut out, and it was back to the music video. How? How could this happen? The regular feed? Music videos? What in the world was going on? Stay tuned for more, he might have said? A two hour special he might have said?
Our sandwiches remained hovering in the air, a bite taken out of them, and our arms were hovering crane-appendages.
We didn't move for hours. He was gone.
Chapter 7
The next day began with absolute drive and lack of sympathy. We seized every second, we started recording the rest of the tracks. This Saturday was entirely the point of the entirety of everything. We weren't sure when we would be called home, and we lived as if our final moments weren't wasted laying down tracks for our demo tape. Five songs. Electric resonance cemented our
It was going to be ok, Todd.
A char scent sent my pan hand scrambling for the plate to unload the sandwich. It spun and tottered on the small plate, and Jenny put a hand out to steady it.
"Sorry," I responded, feeling helpless. I put the plate down, buttered some more bread, and she continued.
"It's not a real thing, but... I just thought I would tell you about it for when it comes up again." I dropped the bread and cheese into the pan. Sizzle. "It probably won't."
"You'll be coming with me and the band on tour and seeing the world, though, so we are all set," I replied. I wanted to save her.
"You're right! But what about college? What about what’s next for us. I don't even have a plan, but I know I have to have one. I applied to State, and the community college, and I did my SATs, and I have everything all lined up... but for nothing."
"Me too," flip the sandwich, "but you don't think that this is an option?"
She looked at me, and smiled, and shook her head back and forth as her hair danced around her face. She communicated so much in that one simple gesture. She was saying, 'you're crazy, but I love you so much' and 'you are a dreamer, but I love you so much,' and 'this is insane, but it just might work, and I love you so much.'
It also seemed like she was saying, 'you'll be playing music in your mom's basement for the rest of your life, and I really like playing around now, but this can't go on. I will find someone else and it will be glorious because even though I went to college I can pop out a few kids and live off of his salary and it will be a life of routine and repetition and it will all be wonderful. We will die and be buried next to one another on a green grassy knoll, and every year our grandchildren will plant blossoming geraniums and yawning lilies over our respective rotting corpses. We will be laying in the earth, facing the stars, only we won't know it because our hearts stopped beating decades earlier and the maggots had eaten our eyeballs out.'
"I love you, you know." There was sincerity in her voice, as well as the weight of all my imagined words in her face.
"I love you, too."
We walked into the living room with our sandwiches, and turned on the television. We landed on MTV. A song was playing, but the feed was immediately cut, and the spaceman appeared in a slate I had never seen before. Then, it cut to the spinning typewriter ball, then the N-E-W-S stamping on the screen.
Kurt Loder came on and began talking quickly.
"Hi, I'm Kurt Loder with an MTV News Special Report.
"The body of Nirvana leader Kurt Cobain was found in a house in Seattle this morning, dead of an apparently self-inflicted shotgun blast to the head. Police found..."
Our intimate moment turned stifling and claustrophobic. The words coming out of his mouth became a jumble of nothing, cotton balls speeding by with details and figures as our beloved figurehead was...what was the word he used? Dead?
I froze, connecting only with a supposed reality that played out in front of me; an alternate reality where the work of fate and a terrible series of events hung over us, and the weight of the moment, oh, the weight.
The special report cut out, and it was back to the music video. How? How could this happen? The regular feed? Music videos? What in the world was going on? Stay tuned for more, he might have said? A two hour special he might have said?
Our sandwiches remained hovering in the air, a bite taken out of them, and our arms were hovering crane-appendages.
We didn't move for hours. He was gone.
Chapter 7
The next day began with absolute drive and lack of sympathy. We seized every second, we started recording the rest of the tracks. This Saturday was entirely the point of the entirety of everything. We weren't sure when we would be called home, and we lived as if our final moments weren't wasted laying down tracks for our demo tape. Five songs. Electric resonance cemented our
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