Kurt Cobain and Gentle Mystics (Excerpt)

Student parking was beyond teacher parking, at the back of the school by the baseball diamond.  Over the years, there had been more than a few cracked windshields, but students rarely complained.  Free reign to drive yourself to school tended to make little things like trashing your clunker  insignificant.  It was those really bad balls that made it to the teacher lot that caused trouble.

Jess had backed the car up right to the very edge of the lot.  Britney and she sat on the hood, feet up on the bumper.  The 1991 Crown Victoria was boxier than a picnic basket and easily lent itself to sitting.  Keith was leaning on the open rear passenger door.  Germ was talking to Ricky, one of the Junior Varsity baseball players already on the field.  Keith may have been the popular one, but Germ could hold a conversation with anybody.  While we watched, he laughed, punching Ricky on the shoulder.  Ricky grinned back, shooting a quick glance at the girls on the hood of the car.

“Jack,” Jess called, “There you are!  I was starting to worry!”

I forced a smile on my face, trying to look nonchalant.  “Sorry,” I said, “Got distracted.”

My backpack felt extra heavy, straps digging into my shoulders.  I frowned and gave it a heft.  Jessica slid off the hood of the car.

“Need to put that in the trunk?”

“Naw, I'm good.”

I stopped just short of entering Jessica's personal space, absently rubbing my backpack's strap.  It was getting old, the nylon scratched and faded.  It was stubbly under my thumb.

“Germ,” Britney shouted.  He turned, noticed me and gave a little wave.  A couple more inaudible words with Ricky and he came over.

“Hey, Jack,” he said.

“Hey,” I answered.

“Alright people,” Jess commanded, “Let's go.”  She flapped her hand at the passenger side.  “Jack, you get shotgun.”

“Aww,” Germ whined, “Why's he get to sit up front?”

“I call a window,” Britney piped up, “Germ, you get the middle.”

Germ grumbled some more, but he didn't argue.

I slipped into the passenger seat, balancing my backpack on my knees.  Britney grunted, slamming the rear door shut.  Jess tapped the steering wheel.

“Tunes now,” Keith demanded from the back seat.

“Fuck that,” Britney said, “Your music sucks.”

“Nirvana is classic,” Keith said, “I don't know how you can possibly not love them.”

“Kurt Cobain whining incomprehensibly for four minutes straight?  Grunge went out a looong time ago, Keith, for a reason.”

“Enough,” Jess said, “My car, my tunes.”

“Oh, god, not Enya again,” Britney pleaded.

“It was one song!  From The Lord of the Rings!  You can't begrudge that shit.  Aragorn was hot.”

“Talk about 'grunge',” I mumbled over the rumble of the car starting up.  Somehow, Jess still heard me.

“Hey, that was the good kind of dirty.”

“Save us,” Germ cried, clapping a hand on my shoulder, “They're gonna talk about hot men again.”

“I found this really neat band the other day,” I tried, “They're called Gentle Mystics.  They--”

“No,” Britney and Germ shouted in unison.

“Jack,” Keith said gently, “Your music's too weird.  You need to accept that.”

“But, accordions.  And British rap.”

“Exactly.”

Jess made a neat left hand turn out of the school driveway, careful not to use her turning signal.  Last month it had shorted out and caused the whole car to freeze up.  Jess kept claiming she'd get it fixed, but as long as she wasn't getting tickets or trying to pass inspection she was unlikely to do anything about it.  “Doesn't really matter,” she said, keeping her eyes on the road, “I think the wire on the cassette adapter is going.  It keeps getting all staticky.”

“Boo,” Britney said.  “Jack, is there still a Radio Shack in the mall?”

“For now.”

“Maybe I'll see if I can get Jason to drop me off later.”

“What's Jason doing home,” Jess asked, “Shouldn't he be at college?”

“He's 'taking a semester off', according to Mom,” Britney said.

Jess winced.  “Eesh.”

I looked at Britney in the rear-view mirror.  Her lips were a tight line.  Next to her, Germ was visibly uncomfortable, hunching in on himself.

“Sucks,” I spoke up, “But at least you get to spend time with him, right?”

“Sure,” Britney said, biting the word off.  Then, a little softer, “I've missed him.”

“Hey, guess what Jack and I are doing,” Jess said, changing the topic without a hint of tact.

“Not the sideways mambo,” Keith said, “I'm pretty sure I would have already heard about that.”

“Germ,” Britney said, “Hit him for me.”

Germ obligingly slapped Keith upside the head.  They both grinned.

Jess ignored them all.  “You know how we've got that big project for Journalism?”

“No,” Britney said, “But go on.”

“Well, we have to do this whole big investigative thing,” Jess said, “In pairs.  So Jack and I are working together on that girl's disappearance.”

At that moment, she turned onto Ledyard Road.  My stomach flopped.

“So,” Germ said, “Do you think it's the girl from the rumor?”

“It has to be,” Jess said decisively, “That just makes sense, right?  'Girl sleeps with teacher, girl disappears'?”

Keith spoke up.  “Are we saying a teacher did it?”

Everyone got quiet for a minute.  Just ahead, I could see the abandoned farm.  It was approaching much too fast.  Jess slowed the car.  Almost as one, we all turned in our seats to watch it go by.  The sun was shining hot and heavy on the yard.

“I still don't see what it had to do with that farm,” Britney said.  Her voice was hushed, bordering on reverent.  Jess kept the speed down.  We were almost to my house.

“There was a connection,” Keith said, “I swear.  Something in all the reporting mentioned Ledyard Road.”

“Okay,” Jess said, before anyone could try to argue the point, “So we're looking for a connection to Ledyard Road and an affair with a teacher.”

“No one said there were any connections,” I said, “And I'm sure the police already did everything to investigate it.  There's probably not anything left to find out.”

“I don't know why you're being so pussy-footed now, Jack,” Jess said sharply, “You're the one who brought it up in the first place.  And the one who suggested it might be connected to the rumor, might I remind you.”

I felt a sharp pressure beneath my ribs.  I pressed my backpack against my chest, trying to focus on the weight of it and not the feeling of a gun about to fire.  I didn't want to investigate.  More than anything, I wanted to forget.

“I don't know what I was thinking when I brought it up,” I said, “I'm sorry.”

Jess huffed.  We were less than a block from my house.  The backseat was conspicuously silent.

“We're doing this now,” Jess said, “So you have to get over whatever it is that's hanging you up and get on board.”

I ducked my head, pulling the backpack closer.  It wasn't helping.

“Okay,” I said, finally, as Jess pulled up in front of the house.  She put the car in park and shifted in her seat, patting my knee.

“This is gonna be fun,” she said, “I know it.”

'Fun' was the last thing on my mind, but I forced myself to smile and nod.

“Well, this is my stop,” I said, opening my door.

“Bye, Jack,” Britney called, “See ya tomorrow morning, yeah?  Unless I stop by the mall tonight.”

“Make sure you pop your head in the store if you do,” I said.  I ducked out of the car.

“See ya,” Germ shouted.  Keith said something in kind.

“Tomorrow,” Jess shouted, before I could close the door, “You and me.  We'll talk while we wait for Mr. Metzger.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with a two-fingered wave, “I'll see you all.”

The door closed with a satisfying thud.