Cage of Bone

  “The name doesn’t ring a bell but I don’t get out much.”

  A customer came in the store so Griffin had to go and ring up their purchase. God, he was so cute! I just wanted to grab him and start licking his face right here. Not like I had a chance with him though.

  “How often do you guys practice?” I asked when we were alone again.

  “A couple of times a week, usually Tuesdays and Thursdays. My dad lets me use our garage and we can leave our equipment there. Except Jeff. He’s kind of anal about his guitar and takes it with him everywhere. He thinks somebody’s going to swipe it or something. Whatever.”

  “Did you tell your dad that you want to get your nose pierced?” I couldn’t help noticing his thick black eyelashes. I wanted to stare at him for hours.

  “Hell no! I’m just going to do it and let him blast me after. That way he can’t say no. You should come with me. Tim’s got a van so we could all go to Toronto some weekend.”

  Oh my God. Did that mean he liked me? I had to think of something to say. “Do you have any more copies of that Sex Pistols album?”

  “You like punk too? Then you should come to our practice. I live on Sixth Avenue East. Number 646. Just listen for the house. You can’t miss it.”

  I took the bag with my new album in it and turned to leave. “Maybe I will sometime. Thanks.” My palms were sweaty and my hands were shaking a bit. I hope he didn’t notice.

  I needed to calm down, it wasn’t like he had asked me out on a date or anything. He probably invited everybody to his practices. What was I thinking? Of course wasn’t interested in me.

  There was a note on the fridge when I got home. Oh surprise, Mom was out again. I wondered what condition she’d be in tonight. The house was eerily quiet with me there all alone. I felt like I was holding my breath, waiting for Katherine to come home. Waiting for life to get back to normal.

  If only I knew why she had done it then maybe I wouldn’t be waiting for her to come home every second of the day. She had been the closest thing to perfect I knew and if she was so messed up that she had to go and kill herself, then I guess I didn’t know her at all.

  The door to her bedroom opened smoothly. Posters were tacked up on all the walls, covering as much of her faded yellow floral wallpaper as possible. Howard Jones, Duran Duran and Culture Club stared down at me as I stepped inside.

  Her bed was made, the multi-colored quilt that our grandmother had sewn all smoothed out perfectly. Nothing was out of place. Nothing looked any different but it felt off somehow. Like all the life had been sucked out of the room and replaced with dust.

  Photographs and other mementos were tucked in around the frame of her big dresser mirror. Ticket stubs, a receipt from Sears for some shoes she had meant to take back but had never gotten around to doing. Little bits of Katherine that stayed behind, which were useless without her here to bring them to life.

  A strip of photos from the booth at the mall caught me eye. Katherine was acting all goofy in them, vamping it up and trying to look sexy. Some guy was with her but I didn’t recognize him. A new boyfriend? An old boyfriend? She had been so popular that it was impossible to keep up with them all. They all just blurred together into JohnRobMarkDennisRobagainSteve.

  I pulled the photo off the mirror and put in it the back pocket of my jeans. This might be the last guy Katherine ever dated. Maybe he knew something I didn’t and I’d finally get some answers.

  Katherine’s hairbrush was lying on her desk. It was antique silver with an ornate filigree pattern engraved on the back and it came with a matching mirror and tray. Mom had bought the set for Katherine when she had turned sixteen. Long strands of her hair were still caught up in the bristles, so I pulled out a bunch and smoothed them out. A bit of sunlight streamed through the window, causing the hair to shimmer with highlights, tiny rainbows reflecting off each strand.

  I twisted the hair and knotted the ends together to make a Katherine bracelet for my left wrist. Now it would be like she was right there with me again, like she had never left at all.

  Katherine’s desk was lined with dictionaries (English, French and German because she was a brain), a thesaurus and her yearbooks, one for each year of high school. I picked up the copy from last year when she had been in Grade Twelve.

  I found her graduation photo and her senior’s questionnaire. According to it, her favorite ice cream was chocolate mint, she loved romantic poetry and she planned to attend Wilfrid Laurier University to major in English Literature.

  I wanted to scream or cry or punch something so bad. Anything to make the pain disappear. I slammed the yearbook shut and pitched it across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and landed on the perfectly made bed, wrinkling the quilt just a bit. I wanted to cry. I needed to cry. But nothing came. All I felt was this black hole inside my chest, where all my pain sat right on top of my heart and wouldn’t budge.

  I was sick of hurting, sick of feeling so much but not being able to tell anybody about it. There was no use talking to Mom though. She was so wrapped up in her own problems I don’t think she even noticed me anymore.

 

  Chapter Four

  I was taping up some band pictures in my locker Tuesday morning when Griffin came by. Adam Ant, Depeche Mode and The Spoons side by side with Gary Numan and The Clash. I took his lack of comment about my taste in music as his tacit approval since he didn’t run screaming when he saw the images I had clipped from my small collection of teeny bopper magazines.

  “Coming to my band practice tonight? I could use the moral support.” Griffin shuffled back and forth in his high top Nikes with the neon green laces. I noticed a group of haughty senior girls checking him out as they sauntered by, their laughter taking on a sarcastic edge when they finally noticed me there too.

  “Sure, why not?” I agreed. “But what’s with the moral support?”

  “We’re going to play this Friday night at Matt White’s party. Our first real gig. He’s even going to pay us in beer!”

  “Congrats! You must be excited.”

  “You bet. A bit nervous though. I’m not sure we’re ready. My vocals suck on some stuff and Jeff only knows three chords. We’re limited on what we can play.”

  “Don’t sweat it,” I said. “Get a few beers in the crowd and you’ll be terrific. If you run out of stuff to play, there’s always the Ramones.”

  Griffin laughed, getting my joke. “So you’ll definitely be there tonight? We’ve never played in front of anybody before. You’ll be our first real live audience.”

  “I’ll be there. Consider me your official groupie.”

  “Cool! See you tonight!”

  There was still time before the bell rang, so I slammed my locker shut and went to the girls’ room to check my hair. I ignored the other girl at the sinks and pulled out my heavy-duty can of hairspray from my duffle bag. Flipping my head over, I started spraying until I had achieved just the right amount of gravity defiance.

  “I don’t know how you can leave the house looking like such a freak,” the girl said. “Don’t think anybody’s falling for your little masquerade.”

  “What did you say?” I snapped.

  “You’re Katherine’s sister, right? I could tell. Sluttiness obviously runs in the family.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t act all innocent, like you don’t know you’re sister was the biggest skank around. And I see you’re following right along in her footsteps.”

  It wasn’t hard finding Griffin’s house that night. All I had to do was follow the sound of drums crashing. The garage door was down, so I let myself in the little side door. There was no point in knocking with such a racket going on.

  The guys were all focused on the music so nobody even noticed my arrival. I stood along the wall next to the coiled up garden hose and the weed whacker while Griffin wailed some dreadful song I didn’t recognize. The rest of the band played pretty badly too and more than a fe
w sour notes made me cringe. Griffin looked over at me and grinned, then signaled the rest of the band to stop.

  “Hey, Ronnie, you’re here! Did you find the place okay?”

  “Yep. I just followed the sound of dogs howling and they led me straight here. Just kidding.”

  “Wow, pretty and funny,” Griffin said with a grin. “So what did you think of our sound?”

  “Uh,” I stammered, afraid to tell him what I really thought. “Lots of anger there.”

  “Yeah, what we lack in talent we make up in decibels”, he said, raking his fingers through his spiky hair.

  “Was that one of your own songs? I didn’t recognize it.”

  “Sure was. Jeff wrote it. It’s called Raging Heart. We’re having some trouble with the lyrics though because Jeff’s no poet.”

  I looked around the surprisingly tidy garage and spotted some lawn chairs folded up and resting along one wall. “Mind if I have a seat?” I asked, pointing to the chairs.

  “Oh crap, where are my manners?” Griffin said, giving his head a shake. “Of course, sit down and stay awhile. Enjoy your first official Roadkill performance.”

  The band was really bad. Tim, the drummer, looked like he was having some sort of epileptic seizure whenever he did a big drum solo and Jeff, the bass player and songwriter un-extraordinaire, seemed to think that jumping up and down to the beat of the music somehow made him a better performer. He was sadly mistaken.

  I endured two hours of this misery just for the opportunity to stare at Griffin. Even with beads of sweat rolling down his face, he was a thing of beauty. No wonder every girl in school was after him, from the seniors to the minor-niners.

  Roadkill finally called it a night at nine and the garage fell mercifully silent. My ears rang a bit. If this kept up, I’d be stone deaf before my next birthday. But it was worth it, screaming guitars, bad lyrics and all, just to be within reach of Griffin for hours on end.

  Since it was getting late for a school night, Griffin offered to drive me home. His mom owned a tiny, silver Plymouth and Griffin got to use whenever it was available. It felt as if we were bopping around in a soup can, but it beat walking home in the dark. Griffin was parched and froggy-sounding, so we stopped at Dairy Queen to grab a drink through the drive through. Then he pulled the car into a parking spot to guzzle down his Pepsi.

  I couldn’t help staring at him as he drank, each swallow causing rhythmic shudders down his throat. I’d have done anything to just lean over and start nibbling on his tender skin, all salty and hot. Griffin turned to me. “What? Am I drooling or something? You keep staring.”

  “No, no. Everything’s fine. Perfect. You’re perfect,” I stammered.

  “Perfect, eh? That’s cool. Can you tell my parents that for me? I don’t think they’d agree with you on that one.”

  Shit. Why did I say that? God, I was such an idiot. Now he’s going to know I like him. “Don’t go getting a swelled head.” I turned and looked out the side window of the car, wishing I could just disappear.

  “Hey, come on Ronnie, lighten up.” Griffin put his hand on my arm, so I turned to look at him, the spot where we touched getting nice and warm all of a sudden. “You’re the only girl I know who isn’t tripping over herself, doing anything she can to catch my eye. You do it without even trying.”

  I stared at him, very aware of how physically close we were sitting in the tiny car. “Are you saying you like me? As more than a friend?”

  Griffin smiled his perfect smile, the one that made me go all quivery in my stomach. “Yes. Couldn’t you tell?” He pulled his hand away from me all of a sudden. “Shit, I made a mistake. Look, I’ll just drive you home and let’s pretend this conversation never happened”.

  He turned the key in the ignition but I stopped him by grabbing his hand. “Wait! You didn’t give me a chance to answer. I do like you. But look at me, I’m not exactly like the other girls.”

  “I know. I kind of noticed that right away.”

  I wanted to kiss him so badly right then. His skin was glowing from the light of the Dairy Queen Sign and I caught a whiff of something male and yummy. Cologne or deodorant. Whatever it was, it smelled good. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  He leaned over and touched a guitar-calloused finger to my jaw. “This.” The kiss was soft and warm and wet and over too soon. We kept kissing in the tiny car until the windows started to fog over. Even then, I wanted more.

  Griffin dropped me off home a little while later and honked the horn as he drove away down the street. I watched the car until it disappeared around the corner, then I practically bounced up our front steps and through the front door.

 

  Chapter Five

  “Where have you been?” Mom asked as soon as I got in the door. “It’s almost 10 o’clock. And it’s a school night.”

  Her eyes were glassy and I could tell by the way she was slumped at the kitchen table that she’d been drinking. A lot. Her usual glass of rye and ginger ale sat in front of her, leaving sticky rings on the arborite table. I’d have another mess to wipe up in the morning.

  “I was out with a friend at Dairy Queen,” I told her. “No need to get all pissed off at me. I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

  She drained the glass with one swig, then immediately started pouring another drink. “Don’t be so snippy with me, little girl. I have a right to know where you are. I got home from work and you were gone. No note. Nothing. You should give me more respect, you know. I am your mother.”

  “Whatever.” I started walking down the hallway to my bedroom but Mom wouldn’t let things rest. She had to make a huge issue about this, just because I finally had a bit of a life.

  “Don’t you walk away from me when I’m talking to you,” she snapped. “Get back here.”

  I sighed and turned around. “Look, I don’t know what the big deal is. I’m sorry I’m so late. I didn’t mean to be.”

  “You and your stinking excuses. You don’t care that I was sitting here worried sick all night, wondering where you were. What you were doing. I don’t know who you hang around with. I couldn’t call anyone to try and find you.” She took a long gulp from her glass and put it down hard, sloshing some onto the table.

  She started to cry. “I’m just supposed to act like nothing’s wrong. Well, something is wrong! Katherine’s dead. My little girl’s dead. And for all I knew tonight, you were too.”

  “Look, I said I was sorry. What more do you want?”

  She got up and came across the room to me. Grabbing me by the shoulders, she tried to hug me but I pushed her away. “Leave me alone. I don’t want you slobbering all over me. Why don’t you just go to bed? You won’t even remember this conversation in the morning.”

  Mom let go of me but continued to cry. “I don’t want anything to happen to you too! I’m just so scared. Please hug me. You’re all I’ve got now.”

  “No, Mom. Not tonight. I’m going to bed.”

  Leave it to my mom to wreck the best evening of my entire life. Why’d she have to be such a blubbering idiot tonight? If she’d just lay off the booze for awhile, I might have more time for her. But whenever she’s drunk like that, I wanted to smack her, not hug her.

  I kept tossing and turning but I just couldn’t fall asleep. Images of Griffin kept swirling around in my mind. The taste of his mouth on mine, the startling blue of his eyes and the hardness of his chest beneath his t-shirt. All I could think about was seeing him again. Kissing him again. And again.

  I heard a glass smash on the kitchen floor around midnight, then the slam of Mom’s bedroom door as she finally stumbled off to bed. But it still wasn’t quiet because I could hear her crying. I finally had to get up and turn on my radio to drown out the sobs. If I didn’t get some sleep soon, I’d be an absolute zombie in the morning.

  My heart gave a little jump when I saw Griffin waiting for me at my locker before class the next day. “Hi. Long time no see,” I said, standing on my tiptoe
s to give him a quick kiss. Extra cover stick and some artful eyeliner tricks had made it appear as though I had gotten a good night’s sleep.

  “Wow, you’re daring.” Griffin wrapped his hand around mine and lifted it up to his mouth. His breath was hot and wet on the back of my hand as he kissed it. “Weird jewelry you have there,” he said, noticing my Katherine bracelet for the first time. “Is that some sort of voodoo thing to ward off your enemies? It looks serious.”

  I pulled my hand away and started opening my locker. “No, nothing like that. But it would be nice to make a few people pay for some of the shit they’ve put me through.” I didn’t want to discuss Katherine. I just wanted to revel in the deliciousness of my new couplehood without any questions. Changing the subject, I asked him if there was anything new going on with the band.

  “Matt White’s party is this Friday, remember? You’ve got to come with me. It’ll be cool.”

  I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the prospect of going to a party and having to sit alone all night while he played. “Can I bring a friend along?” I asked. “I’m not really the party type but I’ll go if I have somebody to talk to.”

  “Just make sure she’s good looking. Jeff’s been whining about not having a girlfriend. Maybe the two of them will hit it off.”

  The bell rang and suddenly the hall was filled with a mob rushing to get to class. Griffin kissed me again and then hurried off. “See you later.” I watched him walk away, admiring the way he looked in his jeans.

  Danielle was already in her seat when I got to English class. Mr. Tanner, the jerk, was nowhere to be seen. He continued to nag me about that poem, trying to wear down my resolve. But I still didn’t want the whole school board reading my inner thoughts.

  “Danielle, do you have plans for Friday night? Griffin’s band is playing at Matt White’s party and I don’t want to go alone.”

  Danielle looked up from Pride and Prejudice with surprise. “Sure, I’ll go. Sounds fun. So are we officially friends now, or what?”