Chapter 4: (FOUR) We’re On A Healing Path

16:03 23 May

Bailey and Kelly and I agreed to meet up Sunday and talk about the whole ‘forming a band’ idea more. I put my guitar away after that, and we all started talking about school and passing around sugar in the form of soda and candy. Apparently Mr. Terrance was an enabler, nice. The band kids’ parents must love him.

The appearance of cold sodas brought my attention to the coolers, and they turned out to also contain hot dogs and various condiments; somebody brought out some sticks to roast them with and everyone opted for food.

I made it out of the tussle with a hot dog, and added the ketchup and relish before somebody else tore them from my fingers, so I threw myself down on a log with a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Jack, right? I like your hair!”

I looked up; it was one of the girls, something starting with an N. Natasha? Natalia? Nemesis?

Probably not Nemesis.

“Thanks, I grew it myself,” I joked. I hadn’t done anything special with it, it was just long, but I supposed it was a lot longer than most guys’ wore theirs.

“Um, this is gonna sound weird, but, can I braid it?”

I thought for a moment. I’d never had my hair braided before – Bailey had never offered, and then once it grew out again Dream-me didn’t have any friends that might have. And this whole experience I was having, whatever it was, was just as much about figuring out the overlap between ‘out of my comfort zone’ and ‘stuff that makes me happy’ as it was fixing mistakes, and that meant ‘trying new things’. Like maybe forming a band, or having my hair braided. I nodded and swallowed a bite.

“Yeah, sure, why not.”

Her face lit up, and she plopped down behind me straddling the log and pulled my hat off. It felt a little weird at first, having somebody else moving my hair around.

“Hmm… your hair’s pretty dry.”

“Dry?” I mean, I hadn’t even showered, just thrown myself down on the couch, how could it be wet?

“Here, feel this, it’s like straw.” She guided my non-hot-dog-hand up to the back of my head and I rubbed my fingers around a little.

“That’s bad?”

She hummed as she went back to braiding. “It’s a shame. Your hair could be real nice. What do you usually do to take care of it?”

“Uh... shampoo?” I was pretty sure Mom had told me some stuff about washing long hair, but I couldn’t really remember it, and after high school it was just another thing that didn’t really seem to matter.

“Just shampoo? How often?” She sounded like she was confirming something she expected to be bad.

“Every day, in the shower. Why?”

“Well, long hair is harder to take care of than short hair, that’s all. Basically, it takes different stuff to keep it healthy. Try just shampooing once or twice a week, and using conditioner after you do, see if it helps, mkay? Oh, and brush your hair before you shower, not after it’s wet.”

“Uh, alright.” I barely knew her, so she probably wasn’t trying to mess with me, meaning I may as well try it.

“You’ll thank me, I promise. Aaannd there we go!” She snapped a hair tie a couple times around the end of the braid and let it fall down my back. “Hey, Selia, what do you think?” she called to one of the other girls. “Cute, right?”

“Oh, totally!”

Cute?? That set my cheeks burning. I wasn’t supposed to be cute! Being called cute felt… weird? But I guess it probably meant it looked good, right? I really wanted to see for myself.

“Can I see?” I pulled out my phone and held it up.

“Oh, right! Yeah, definitely!” She snatched it, taking a few photos, then leaned around to get my head from the side, too. She handed it back a minute later.

“Thanks,” I offered.

“Yep!” She hopped up and wandered off, presumably to stick her hands in someone else’s hair, and I stared at the first couple pictures. That was… a French braid, maybe? Dutch? Hollandaise? No, that was a sauce. It did look good, though. It also looked like the back of any random girl’s head.

Huh.

I tapped through the other photos. The ones from the side… looked like the side of some random girl’s head. Except she was me.

Hm.

There was that same weird feeling the androgynous-hoodie-and-beanie thing got me. I still wasn’t sure what that meant. I typed up a note of what she said about taking care of long hair, then went back to my hot dog. My phone buzzed with a text message before I could snap it shut.

BAILEY

Hey, you doing okay with all the people, or do you wanna walk down the beach a ways and get away?

I looked up to where she was untangling herself from a gaggle of other kids, one hand holding a hot dog and the other holding her phone. I nodded and got up, and she walked away down the beach a little to wait for me while I asked Mr. Terrance to keep an eye on my guitar. I shoved my phone in my pocket and jogged over to her.

“So, how are you doing so- whoa!” Bailey started talking as I came up beside her, then did a double-take when she turned to look at me.

“What?”

“Your hair!”

“O- oh! Right.” I’d forgotten about it. How did I already forget about that? “Yeah, um, one of the girls asked if she could braid it. Uh, Nnn… Nellith? I dunno. Something with an N.”

Bailey leaned back to get a look at my head from the back. “It looks good!”

Well, if Bailey thought it looked good, she was probably right. She’d always had better judgement than me anyhow.

It was kinda fun to feel the braid moving around on my back when I turned my head. I smiled, flicking my head back and forth a little as we headed down the beach.

“Anyway, how are you doing?”

“I’m actually having a lot of fun!” I said. “It was cool when everyone was singing along while I was playing. I’ve never had that happen before.”

She gave me a high-five. “I’m glad. You’re an awesome person, Jay, and I wanna see you share that with other people.”

“Aw, shucks,” I said, half-joking. She shoved me gently.

“I’m serious, dude. It’s good to see you having fun with people besides just me.”

We kept walking, both getting grossed out when I almost stepped on a dead jellyfish, but mostly just enjoyed the walk and the company and the smell of the ocean breeze.

###

When we got back, my guitar was unharmed, and a few people were setting up a volleyball net. I noticed those things in that order, too, which says something about my situational awareness.

“Hey, just in time!” Andrew said. “You two in?”

I surprised myself by nodding at the same time as Bailey, without even having to repeat my trying-new-things mantra. I guess I was really getting into this. He grinned.

“Great! Okay, girls versus boys! Bailey, get over there!” He gestured toward the other side of the net. She rolled her eyes but did, running and ducking as her momentum slid her under the net. I shot her a disappointed look, and she returned it.

“Rules?” Kelly asked.

“Shirts versus skins?” Andrew joked, zipping up his jacket so his meaning was clearer.

I joined a couple of the girls in shaking my head vehemently. Going shirtless always made me uncomfortable. Kelly stuck her tongue out and beaned him with the volleyball, which put an end to that idea. He laid out the actual rules; I’d never played volleyball before, but I was having a lot of fun, and I learned fairly quick since we all switched around a bit; while at first I got distracted by the feeling of my braid bouncing on my back when I jumped, it became normal pretty fast.

Eventually, entirely tuckered out, I staggered away from the court and dropped onto the sand. I wiped sweat off my brow, appreciating the braid keeping my hair out of my face. Max hunkered down next to me.

“Hey, Jack, question. What’s your opinion on manga?”

I cocked my head as I thought. “I haven’t really read much of it. I think my cousin Mel loaned me some of hers once or twice before she moved away.” Something with like, cat girls? Tokyo Mew Mew, that was it.

“Whatcha up to on Monday? Wanna come over and hang out, maybe play some videogames or something? I’ve got some manga you can read, too.”

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“Sure, that’d be cool! I’ll check with my folks!” Other than this bonfire I hadn’t had to do that in a while, or at least it didn’t feel like it, it was sort of a weird readjustment.

“Sweet.” He ambled off, leaving me to my thoughts. Gosh, I hadn’t thought about my cousin Melody in ages. And wow, having my eyes open to my uncle’s assholery kinda explained why Aunt Cheryl moved two hours away as soon as she had custody. I missed them for a long time; Mel and I were pretty close as kids.

Wait a minute, I am a kid! Maybe there was time to get that relationship back, too.

By the time I’d caught my breath, the game was over, and everyone was breaking out the marshmallows. I used to joke sometimes that I was on a permanent sugar high, but all the kids were pretty much matching me by the time parents started showing up for pick-ups. Bailey pointed out her mom’s car, and we said goodbye to everyone while I tugged my beanie on and grabbed my guitar, then we headed out.

Bailey opened the sliding back door of the van, then let me in first so I could put my guitar behind the seat.

“Hey, Mom!”

“Hey, Bailey’s Mom!”

She chuckled. “Hey, kids. How was it?”

“Oh, it was awesome!” Bailey said. “We had a cookout, played volleyball, and Jack even played guitar some!”

“Yeah, it was pretty fun,” I agreed.

We made small talk about school and stuff until we got to their house. Bailey gave me a hug, then I grabbed my stuff and headed across the street and past a couple driveways to my own house.

“I’m home!” I called as I kicked off my shoes.

“Did you have fun?” Mom asked from the kitchen.

“Definitely! Can I go over to Max’s house on Monday?”

“Max? Max who?” Mom stepped out from the kitchen, smiling. “You made a new friend?”

“Yeah! Well, sorta leeched off Bailey, but yeah. He invited me over to watch some anime. Japanese cartoons,” I explained when she looked confused. “Maybe play some videogames too.”

She was still beaming at me, and I raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just been a while since you made a new friend, that’s all. I’m happy for you.”

“Aww.” I gave her a hug. Man I liked being this small. “Thanks, mom. When’s food?”

She laughed. “Come and set the table, then call Dad down.”

I did, and slid into my seat after grabbing a Capri Sun.

“Jack, no hats at the table,” Dad reminded me.

“Whoops, sorry!” I said, yanking my beanie off.

Mom looked at me curiously. “Who braided your hair?”

I glanced down; my braid had slid forward over my shoulder when I pulled my beanie off. “Oh, one of the band girls.” Naomi, maybe? “She was going around messing with people’s hair and I didn’t have anything better to do.” I shrugged. “How’s it look?”

“Very nice, honey.” She and Dad shared a look, and he cleared his throat.

“So… wanna tell us what happened with your uncle earlier?”

“What? Oh.” I remembered and winced. Right. “It, uh… he kinda insulted my friends, like, a bunch? I… I just had enough, is all. Sorry about the language.” My stomach growled, and I took the out. “Um, can we eat?”

###

“Oh, I can get it.”

Mom stared at me, hand frozen on the sponge. “What?”

“I said I can get it? I do know how to wash dishes, y’know.”

“You’re offering to clean up after dinner?”

Oops. Was that something thirteen-year-old me wouldn’t have done?

Oh. Right, it wasn’t part of my weekend chores until high school.

Better roll with it. I nodded.

“Sure why not? It’s not that hard, you do it all the time. Like, all the time. Seriously, my turn, give it over.” I nudged her and reached for the sponge. She stepped back and watched me for a while – I think the expression on her face would be described as bemused. By the time I was done, she’d gone upstairs, and I set my hands on my hips with a satisfied smile. Helping around the house was kinda fun, especially when I got funny reactions out of my mom.

I started to head upstairs, then I paused. Something had been on my mind since the beach, which was remarkable staying power for thoughts in my brain. Better do something about it before I did forget.

I flipped through the small binder by the answering machine, where we kept all the numbers for family and friends. I checked the clock; it wasn’t that late, and it was a weekend, so I dialed. The phone rang twice and then picked up.

“Hi, this is Cheryl!”

“Hey, Aunt Cheryl! It’s Jack!”

“Oh my gosh, Jackie!? Wow! What’s up? How are you?”

Well, she hadn’t gotten any less exuberant. Aunt Cheryl was mom’s younger sister, by like eight years; she’d gotten pregnant with Mel in high school, though, so we were the same age, and Aunt Cheryl was… maybe thirty by now? She’d always looked young, though.

“I’m doing really well! I actually just got back from this beach bonfire with my friend Bailey and a bunch of her band class. Played my guitar a little, played some volleyball. It was a lot of fun.” It was a lot of fun. Fun with friends was… I liked it. A lot.

“That’s great, hon! Glad to hear it. But what brought this on? It’s great to hear from you and all, but I don’t think you’ve ever called by yourself before.”

“Ah. Yeah.” Well, I couldn’t exactly say ‘I got a do-over and want to fix my relationship with you guys’, so, uh… “I had another fight with your ex, and it made me think of you guys.”

“Aww, honey. ‘Another’?”

That was one of the reasons I’d always loved Aunt Cher. I could tell from her voice she had some choice opinions about Dane, but she was waiting to let me vent instead of piling them on a kid.

I sighed; I didn’t have to fake it. “Yeah, he said I needed to hang out with the football players and ‘man up’, and then called the band kids ‘fags and sissies’.” I shrugged, which was silly since she couldn’t see it. Was Skype a thing yet? No, bad Jack, off-topic. “Dunno if you’ve noticed, but he’s kind of an asshole,” I joked to pop the tension. She snerked.

“Yeah, that did come to my attention. You okay, though?”

I shrugged again. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? The band kids seem cool, and him being a dick isn’t gonna stop me from having fun with my friends. Hell, maybe I’ll start my own band, that’ll show him.”

“Hmm, well, good for you. Get me tickets to your first concert mkay?”

I laughed. “Will do, Aunt Cher. Hey, is Mel around?”

“She’s over at a friend’s house right now, but I’ll let her know you called?”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Oh, um, I’ll give you my cell number, and then she can maybe call me sometime?”

“Sure!”

I rattled off my cell number – it hadn’t changed since I first got one for my thirteenth birthday, so unlike many things, it was etched into my brain fairly indelibly. She wrote it down, and I promised to call more often before she had to hang up. I felt a lot lighter than I did last time I hung up on a relative.

Wait. Did I still have to count Dane as a relative? I mean, he wasn’t married to Aunt Cheryl any more, and I didn’t have any blood ties to him. I decided to go with no, I do not.

Sweet.

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