I is for Sherbet

Rating: Mature (Discussion, not action)

Jazz parked in front of her friend’s condo, taking up either Elisa’s or Neil’s parking spot. Her fingers gripped the wheel tight. There had been a couple of close calls turning at lights. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could safely drive. It had been over two hours since she took the pink pill that gave her the mobility in her hands and knees so she could drive, but the loopy effects even after all that time were just enough to slow down her reaction rate and she had made mistakes. She couldn’t do highway driving at all anymore.

She wanted to cry in frustration.

Taking the bus took too much energy but grabbing a cab was beyond her budget. If she gave up her car, she would only be able to leave the house for doctor visits since Human Services provided a specially modified bus for that with door-to-door service.

To be completely home bound! No crying, she chided herself, not with the makeup.

Jazz pried her fingers off the steering wheel and got out of the car. From the back seat, she took out the walker-seat and put the lime green bag and her purse on the seat before pushing her way up the sidewalk. The cane would have worked since she was able to park so close, but Jazz had no idea what she would be like by five. The longest she had been out of the house except for doctor and hospital visits had been shopping for the gift on Tuesday, and that had put her on her back until late Wednesday. A short trip of only two hours inclusive, not four hours plus travel time

Elisa, her belly pressing hard against a tasteful skull and vampire fanged maternity top, answered the door. “Jazz!” The dyed fuchsia redhead pulled the door wide and helped her schoolmate lift the walker over the threshold lip. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Jazz hugged her best friend, glad the painkiller allowed her to stand straight and bend into the hug without problems. “Where is everyone?” The jewelry had taken longer than she had anticipated, even with her special tools to close latches so she ran a few minutes late.

“Oh, Courtney is here and working with Neil on putting up the decoration. Everyone else should be here at two. I wanted time with just us. Come, come in.” Elisa closed the heavy wood and glass security door. “Sit with me and help me make fun of them. It’s been boring. They won’t let me do anything!”

“You are due in three weeks.”

Elisa flopped on the couch in a manner indicating she wasn’t getting up again in a long time. “Three eternities. Why did I do this?”

“Because you finally found a good man to go with your good woman and wanted to make some good children.” Jazz maneuvered her walker next to the couch, between the folding chairs moved in front of the television, where she could see Courtney and Neil working in the kitchen and Elisa stuff cushion into the small of her back on the huge ornate sofa. “After some very good sex.”

Elisa turned her head to Jazz, grinning evilly. “It was very, very good sex.”

“Best sex ever!” Courtney yelled from the kitchen. “Can’t wait for my turn!”

“Oh god. What have I gotten into?” Neil asked, placing a punch bowl filled with gingerale and sherbet scoops on the dining room table.

“Where did you find black sherbet and what flavor is it?” Jazz had to ask.

Courtney brought in red plastic cups and black napkins. “Oh, I made it. The flavor is mint and peach. I debated floating lady’s fingers but we did that for the valentine day party.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen garlands of black skulls and gold baby rattles before.” Jazz looked around the room admiring the eclectic mix of the family’s ongoing vampire and Gothic themes with baby shower ornaments.

“$5 at GothPartyOnline.” Courtney bragged, before heading back to the kitchen, throwing a last bit of pride over her shoulder. “Free shipping with orders over $20.”

“You simply got to see what they have done with the baby’s room. We made an entire episode on it for our vlog interior decorating series.”

Jazz gave a crooked smile. “That is upstairs, right?”

“Okay. So I’ll have one of them go upstairs with a video camera and we can both watch it down here.”

“That could work.”

“Always make them do the work.” Elisa stretched a bit. “I could get used to this.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” Elisa face looked sad and serious as she rubbed her belly, before sneaking a peek up at Jazz with sparkling brown eyes.

Courtney and Neil found them laughing with tears running down their cheeks when the couple brought the food trays out.

 

A to Z Short Story List Breakdown

Rainbow Spectrum (A to F)

Marathon Party (G to M)
4/8/2019 – G is for Gobi
4/9/2019 – H is for Horse
4/10/2019 – I is for Sherbet
4/11/2019 – J is for Jazz
4/12/2019 – K is for Keeper
4/13/2019 – L is for Loss
4/15/2019 – M is for Marathon

H is for Horse

Jazz shoved the wrapping paper off the table and onto the floor to deal with a day she wasn’t conserving every bit of energy she had, then dropped the rattle and oversize plastic key ring into the lime green bag. She had wanted the toy to be properly wrapped, but that wasn’t going to happen. The bag will have to be enough.

Sitting down she reached for the food she set up so she always had at least one meal to eat every day without the effort of cooking. Pulling out a bar and breaking off a juice bottle, she opened both and ate slowly. Chewing was exhausting but necessary. It released tension in her jaw which built up overnight fighting for sleep. After finishing, Jazz took her phone out and put it on the charging bed on the table and started the connections for social media. Waiting for them to come up, she reached for her pill box and stared at it a while before snapping open Saturday.

She transferred the afternoon pills to a small bottle to take with her to the party and put the bottle beside the bag with the present. After that she took out the two horse pills and swallowed them with a gulp of grape juice. Jazz pulled the final pill out of the box for the day. Her pain pill.

Her medical coverage and disability did not cover all her bills and so she skimped on some medication. The depressant prescription to take before bed to help with sleeping cost the most, so she lived without that. Beside the side effect required a stimulant in the morning, and something to control her heart arrhythmia from the stimulant. The one week she took the depressant, she hadn’t made it out of bed until three in the afternoon a single day.

The pain pill in her hand was the secondary pain controller. She took the one which controlled the flares religiously, but this one reduced the pain in the joints. Unfortunately it was new and had no generic equivalent and the company maxed out its charity offerings before it hit the statistic group she fell into. The little pink capsule cost nearly as much per pill as the depressant and, for best effect, she needed to take it every eight hours, three times per day. She could afford once every two days. The question was when would be the best time to take it today.

If she took it now, she could easily drive to the Elisa’s baby shower, but it will wear off before she drove home. If she took it during the baby shower, she’ll be loopy for the first hour around a bunch of strangers and she didn’t want to embarrass her high school buddy like that. On the other hand, she might need it tomorrow to function after pushing herself all day today. In the end, it wasn’t really a question. She needed to be able to drive safely there. Taking it now, waiting the fifteen minutes for the pill and breakfast to stop taking all the blood in her system and start giving her energy, then waiting the additional hour for the loopy to wear off, she would be good to drive the twenty minutes to her friend’s house and get there for the start of the party at one. She stuck it on her tongue and washed the sour tasting pill down.

Looking at her phone, she sighed and then activated the lockout app. The pink pain pill made her drunk text. She put her arms and head on the table and waited for the lockout alarm to go off. Jazz supposed she could attempt her hair, jewelry, and makeup stoned out of her gourd, but she would need to do it all over again afterwards.

The alarm woke her. Cracking her neck, Jazz felt a lingering pain behind the drugged wall, but it didn’t touch her thinking. If she didn’t need the rest of her medications to actually live, she would fill that prescription happily even with the stoner and addictive side effects. Picking up her cane, she walked quickly to the makeup table in her bathroom and set to making everything perfect. Only an hour left before she needed to go out the door.

 

A to Z Short Story List Breakdown

Rainbow Spectrum (A to F)

Marathon Party (G to M)
4/8/2019 – G is for Gobi
4/9/2019 – H is for Horse
4/10/2019 – I is for Sherbet
4/11/2019 – J is for Jazz
4/12/2019 – K is for Keeper
4/13/2019 – L is for Loss
4/15/2019 – M is for Marathon

G is for Gobi

The alarm going off like the final bell in a cage match brought her nightly ten rounds fighting with insomnia to an end. Jazz congratulated herself on not sagging on the ropes at 3:00 and picking up her phone to surf social media.  By avoiding the glowing screen of uselessness, she managed at least two dream cycles, so at least three hours of actual sleep in the last ten hours. Sure, she was exhausted, a perpetual state, but her eyes did not feel like someone had crammed the Gobi desert into her orbs.

She swiped the phone off before her wake up song repeated, the Good Morning Song from Barney and Friends, guaranteed to drive her to sit up and move. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Jazz reached for her stabilizing quad-cane. She hated it as much as her morning alarm, but it served its purpose. While it took as much energy to use as walking without it, she hadn’t fallen once since she started using it around the house. She just never expected to be cane-bound at thirty-four, let alone needed the stupid push chair-walker anytime she left the house.

The insurance wouldn’t sign off on a scooter yet, and she didn’t know if she was grateful or angry about that.

Jazz hobbled over to where she had laid out clothes two days ago. Today was a big day, and she wanted it to be perfect. Ignoring the pain in her joints, she pulled off the oversized t-shirt she had slept in and lived in since she got home from shopping Tuesday. Leaning on the ladder chair beside her clothes table, she changed underwear without fully sitting down. After tucking her phone under her bra strap, she rested under the guise of studying the two choices she had set out for shirts.

One had buttons and fit her perfectly. The other was overlarge but slipped over her head in one move. Jazz tested her range of motion. Her fingers didn’t flex well, but she was able to raise one arm to shoulder height. Loose black blouse would be today’s outfit; she had hoped on Thursday for the button-down. She hadn’t be able to wear the turquoise embroidered linen in over a year. She should probably give up on it and donate it to Goodwill or the Kidney Foundation before it went completely out of fashion, but she loved that shirt.

The black skirt pulled on easier than the blouse, after which she sat on the tall step stool and recovered, going over what else she needed to get done before noon. Hair, make-up, jewelry, breakfast, charge phone, wrap a present. She had meant to get the present wrapped yesterday but a pain flare had ended the attempt.

Hair next. No, breakfast first. If she didn’t get to her hair, she could still go, but no breakfast will kill the entire day.

Jazz looked over at the breakfast bar and drink she kept on her nightstand for those days she couldn’t make it out of bed. Gritting her teeth, she stood, turned her back on the bed and room she spent too much time in, and went to her breakfast nook to eat like a civilized person.

On the blond wood table, bright in mid-morning sunshine, stood a box of blueberry breakfast bars, small plastic bottles of grape juice, and her box of pills for the week. The first week box for the month was behind the used drink bottles and breakfast bar wrappers waiting for her once-every-two weeks visit from the state subsidized care-giver to refill since her fingers couldn’t manage organizing pills anymore. In the middle of the table was the result of her struggle to wrap the baby shower present with real paper before the pain had disabled her.

 

A to Z Short Story List Breakdown

Rainbow Spectrum (A to F)

Marathon Party (G to M)
4/8/2019 – G is for Gobi
4/9/2019 – H is for Horse
4/10/2019 – I is for Sherbet
4/11/2019 – J is for Jazz
4/12/2019 – K is for Keeper
4/13/2019 – L is for Loss
4/15/2019 – M is for Marathon

F is for Finish

There were so many instruments in the room to explore and James went from one to another; except the mouth instruments, Mom said you don’t share those. He stopped when he realized he had been hearing his mom’s call tone on his tablet for a while. Opening the case, James swiped the tablet to see his mom’s face.

“You okay! Are you okay sweetheart!” His mom’s panicked face filled the screen.

“Yes Mom.” James looked down at his tablet.

“Why aren’t you at home?”

“I went to a job interview.”

“A what?”

A smile spread over James face. He had surprised her. “A job interview.”

“Where is it? How did you get there? Are you okay? Do I need to come?” Question after question came faster than James could answer, so he froze staring down at his mom until she realized what she had done and stopped to breathe.

After a long inhale and exhale, James knew his mom had done her reset and he didn’t have to answer anything she had just asked. He waited for the questions he needed to answer. “Where are you?”

“I’m at 439 West Franklin Avenue.”

“That’s halfway across town!”

James smiled again, and his mom smiled softly back at the rare expression. “I took the bus on my own.”

His mom brought a hand to her mouth, pressing her fist against her lips.

“If I may?” A deep voice interrupted. James had forgotten Mr. Hartgrove was there.

“Who are you?” His mother asked when the large man’s head came over James’ shoulder.

“The Duke. Owner of a recording studio downtown, Pickin and Strummin. Just thought to let you know I will be hiring James here as a studio musician.”

“You … ah.” His mother inhaled and exhaled again. “You know he has … special needs.”

“Yeah, Miles Hammer walked me through a few things and I know I’m going to need to learn a bit more, but it will be worth it.” Mr. Hartgrove put his hand on James’ shoulder who quickly stepped away and turned to face the man, backing away further. The man wiped his face before muttering, “Yep, need to learn a few things.” After shaking his head, Mr. Hartgrove pulled back his shoulders, standing bigger and wider than ever before. “Can you turn the screen around so I can talk to … your mother?”

“Yes.” James said, doing as the man asked, but not coming any closer.

“Sorry by the way. The Hammer told me not to touch you or the tablet. My bad.” Mr. Hartgrove spread his arms wide, before nodding to the screen. “Mrs. Cohn?”

“Yes?” The woman’s eyes bounced around the room now showing.

“We need to talk. Your son just played some of the best damn rainbow I have ever heard, over four hours without repeat and on every damn thing I got here. I want him. I can’t pay him much and it will be mostly part-time gigs and nothing outside of the studio, but it will be honest work.” The Duke shrugged, for most people what he and his company could offer was insulting unless they bled music.”If he is okay with it, I’ll drive him home and we can talk over dinner. I’ll have Miles meet us there?”

“I took the bus here.” James said.

“Which mean he needs to take the bus home,” his mom explained from the screen.

“Alright, I got to close up shop and get things together, anyway. How about I meet you at seven? Wherever you are comfortable. I’ll bring Chinese or pizza.”

“Stuffed crust pizza, with mushroom and pepperoni but no olives or sausage. Tomato sauce. It isn’t pizza unless it has red sauce. “

Duke looked up at the kid holding the screen. “Alright, pizza it is. Any particular chain?”

The End

 

A to Z Short Story List Breakdown

Rainbow Spectrum (A to F)

4/1/2019 – A is for Adapt
4/2/2019 – B is for Bus
4/3/2019 – C is for Courage
4/4/2019 – D is for Duke
4/5/2019 – E is for Eclectic
4/6/2019 – F is for Finish

Next story: Marathon Party (G to M)

E is for Eclectic

“Alright boy. Miles the Hammer said you got chops and dragged me out to your senior concert last month. You were good, but not great. Everything was technically perfect, but no heart. I was unhappy and let the Hammer know.”

James sat and stared. He knew pauses meant people wanted a response, except when they didn’t. He wasn’t sure if Mr. Hartgrove wanted a response or not.

“Nothing to say?”

The word went up at the end, so James recognized it as a question. It was a question he heard a lot. Mom had taught him the proper answer is always, “No sir.” It saved her from having a lot of problems to solve later.

“Alright. Good enough.” The man spilled over the sides of his stool and towered over James even sitting down. “Well, the Hammer said you got heart, you just wanted everything to be right for the concert. Now sometimes I’m going to want everything to be technically correct when we do backup work and I will let you know when that happens. But right now, I’m going to want you to play with your heart. You understand?”

James thought, looking down at his tablet. After several moments, the three bells went off when the music changed. Mr. Hartgrove had not interrupted his thinking, but the bells reminded James he needed to do something. “I need to answer the question.”

“That would be helpful.”

The words were lighter, higher than the previous words Mr. Hartgrove had been saying, which meant an emotional change, but James couldn’t guess at it. He wanted to ask, like he did with Mr. Hammer and Miss Grace, to understand, but he wasn’t sure if he could do that during the interview. Mr. Hammer said to answer questions, not ask them. “You understand.” James repeated. “Oh, you want me to play rainbow.” He looked up quickly then returned his eyes to the screen.

“Play rainbow? What do you mean by that?”

Speaking to the floor, James tried to remember how Mr. Hammer explained things to him. “Notes on the music. Those are rain. Lots of things falling together. Boring since you get stuck in places. But you have to learn to play the notes right, because sometimes you need rain for things to grow. To grow as a musician, you have to learn how to play rain. But once you have learned the rain, the sun can come out and you can add the rainbow. Each person pays a different rainbow, so you can’t do that in concerts. Not concerts with others. Concerts are for rain, but playing by yourself, that is rainbow time.”

“Alright, I get that.” The black man stood. “Let’s go into the studio and have you play a rainbow.” He pressed a few buttons. “I’m going to record it so I can listen it to it later. Let’s go.” Mr. Hartgrove led James to room with padding and even more instruments, including an upright piano.

The large man picked up a guitar and plucked a few notes, checking the tuning. While he did that, James unslung the case on his back, flipped it over from the guitar shape to the violin side and lifted out the smooth wood instrument and his bow. He placed the tablet in standby mode, then into the padding, and closed the case.

“Not much call for violin here, but then I don’t have anyone who can play it well.” Mr. Hartgrove set aside the guitar in his hands. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

Thinking about the uniform man downstairs, James started with some hot jazz he had on his tablet repeat and followed it with a pop song he thought worked better on the fiddle than the electric guitar. Enjoying himself, he set aside the violin and went over to the upright. There he did a Sousa march to test out the sound before seguing into a honkeytonk.

 

A to Z Short Story List Breakdown

Rainbow Spectrum (A to F)

4/1/2019 – A is for Adapt
4/2/2019 – B is for Bus
4/3/2019 – C is for Courage
4/4/2019 – D is for Duke
4/5/2019 – E is for Eclectic
4/6/2019 – F is for Finish