Life's A Cappella Read online

  Chapter 2

  Shayna

  Darkness surrounded her like the death she was living in. Even if she had food to eat, she wouldn’t be able to because of the stench that lived around her. She wasn’t thirsty though, because Momma had taught her how to fill up her cup from the sink. And she did that frequently to pass the time while Momma slept. Momma would be so proud; she rarely spilled the water anymore.

  It was cold. Even with the blankets she draped over herself and Momma, she was still cold. She played with her baby doll quietly, speaking to her baby in hushed tones so she wouldn’t wake up Momma. Momma liked to sleep and hated to be woken up.

  So she wouldn’t wake her, but she really hoped Momma would wake up soon. Someone was at the door knocking and she wasn’t supposed to open the door to strangers.

  She wasn’t scared, she reassured her baby, even as the men came in. She held her baby tight, letting her know she was safe, when one of the men picked her up and carried her to the cars with the flashing lights.

  Chapter 3

  Erin

  Winter break was going by in a flurry of bon fires, beach days, and boat trips. The last week before school started, Camilla suggested a quick trip to Key West with Jermaine’s boat in tow. While my friends were all in agreement, I was reluctant. Unlike them, I didn’t live with my parents, nor did I have parents who would help me pay my college expenses. I was not bitter about that, but it was a fact I could not escape and they would not understand. But really, there was no need to explain anything. Camilla knew me all too well.

  “We’ll camp out in the Jeep, with the roof off,” she told me when everyone left to pack.

  “I don’t know, Cam,” I faltered, fully aware of how badly I wanted to go.

  “I’ll take some bread, lunch meat, cheese, and BAM, we have our self a three course meal,” she continued as if I had never spoken. “We’ll get guys to buy you drinks.”

  I mentally counted how much I had in my account and the little I would receive with my upcoming paycheck. I calculated my rent, various bills, and how much I would spend to go to Key West. But this was my last semester before full adulthood took over. And it would be fun to get away for a couple of days before classes started again. I nodded my head at Camilla, who jumped on me, hugging me tightly before running out the door to pack.

  I drove with Camilla in her Jeep while Brianna and Tonya rode in Jermaine’s Ford Explorer, towing his 21’ Edgewater. With the sun gleaming above us and the Jeep’s top off, I was in a good mood. I put on Jay-Z’s Watch the Throne and followed Jermaine’s truck to the turnpike.

  With the top off, the forty-five minute drive on the turnpike was noisy and windy, eliminating any chance for chit-chat. Instead Camilla and I sang along with Jay-Z and danced in our seats. A few of our fellow drivers honked at us, either in annoyance or appreciation. Either way, we waved back at them, enjoying the moment we had been given.

  Once we got off the Turnpike and were in Florida City, we lowered the radio and tried to tame our hair.

  “I broke up with Gabe,” Camilla said suddenly.

  “Oh,” I responded, not knowing what else to say.

  “About an hour ago,” she continued as if my awkwardness wasn’t palpable. “He got jealous about our trip and whatever man, I’m done with it.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. Even after three years of friendship, I still had no clue what to do with girl talk.

  “And I’m not getting back together with him,” she said adamantly as I nodded my head in agreement. “I’m done with the jealous, possessive bull shit.”

  “Good, I’m glad,” I told her and meant it.

  “I deserve better.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” I responded and inwardly cringed.

  Camilla repeated, “Fuckin’ A!” enthusiastically and turned the radio back up.

  For the rest of the drive, we continued to sing and dance. And I replayed our conversation, trying out different scenarios in which I had said the right thing. “What happened?” would have been a better response than “Oh”. Or even better, I could have been the one to tell her she deserved better. Instead, she had to remind herself of that simple fact. And she did deserve better. She deserved someone who didn’t play on her insecurities, but rather focused on her qualities. She deserved someone who trusted her and didn’t try to control her life. She deserved someone who didn’t try to make her feel bad every chance he had. And she deserved a friend who wasn’t socially inept.

  Camilla broke my silence to let me know we were approaching the 7-Mile Bridge, a monumental moment regardless of how many times you’d driven on it. I took in the scenery, where the pristine blue skies and waters met. The only disruption to the seemingly perfect moment were the boaters, but rather than distracting the viewer, they added value and purpose to the environment around them.

  I continued to drive, watchful of everything, including Camilla, who took pictures of everything around us, including a picture of myself that I was kind enough to grace with a smile. But I knew there was no way anything but the human eye could fully capture the beauty around us.

  As we neared Key West, I noticed I was no longer rapping along with one of the greats, but instead was singing some of my favorite lyrics from Garden Grove. I hit the back button on the media player on Camilla’s phone so we could hear Sublime’s song from the beginning and purposely drained my brain so I couldn’t think further than the lyrics allowed me to. Camilla put the radio louder and let out an emphatic wooo as we made our way into Key West.

  We immediately dropped off our belongings in the hotel room our friends had rented and launched the boat at the nearest ramp. As Jermaine had explained to us, we were lucky to have such nice weather, because spear fishing was tricky in the winter. Apparently, cold fronts caused high winds and rough seas, resulting in low visibility under water. Personally, I couldn’t get past the idea of a cold front in South Florida. In my four years in Miami, I had only had to wear a long sleeve shirt a handful of times.

  ***

  With Jermaine as our captain, we headed towards a shallow reef only a few miles off of Key West.

  “How shallow are we talking about?” I asked Jermaine.

  “About ten to fifteen feet,” he replied.

  “Why not deeper water?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too foolish.

  “Just a preference,” he shrugged. “There’ll be plenty of fish. I’ve caught snappers, groupers and yellow jacks. Good sizes too.”

  I nodded, trying to swallow the nerves that had crept up once I realized how vulnerable I would be under open water. “What about sharks?” I asked, my hands clammy and my throat dry.

  “We’re good, country girl,” he reassured me. “Keep an eye out, but we’re good.”

  “What about our equipment?” I asked, looking around the boat, not feeling any more at ease but not wanting the others to know. I didn’t own any scuba gear and hoped I hadn’t overstepped any boundaries asking if he had brought us all one.

  “We got our spear guns stored in the bow along with our masks and fins.”

  “How about the breathing thing and tank?” I asked cupping my hand to my mouth as if I were breathing into it. My anxiety only grew when Jermaine slowed down his boat.

  “We’re free diving. No breathing thing or tank. Just our lungs,” he said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

  I nodded as if what he said made perfect sense and watched him put the boat in neutral. My heart continued its one man parade inside my chest when Jermaine instructed Brianna to ready the anchor. The beating was harder, faster, as I braced my arms around myself, willing my limbs not to tremble.

  My friends geared up and were quickly in the water while Jermaine handed them their harpoons. Reluctantly, I jumped in the water and shook my head “no” when Jermaine tried handing me a harpoon.

  “I think I’ll watch first,” I explained. But I didn’t. Instead, I just swam. As time passed, I felt my tension subside into what almost felt like calm and
found myself completely enthralled by the colorful reef system that lied in shallower waters I came across. I always imagined I’d have to venture into deep, deep waters to witness something so out of the ordinary. But there it was, just a breath away.

  I didn’t know the name of the fish I saw but I was pretty sure I had followed either a parrot fish or an angel fish. Whatever it was had led me to a wall of colors that left me astonished. I hated having to go back to the surface for air, but made sure to take an extra-large breath before my descent. I reached out, but didn’t touch the yellow, purple and orange sponges. The coral itself was mainly beige but with sporadic explosions of pink, brown, and yellow. As promised, I saw plenty of snapper and an array of other fish I couldn’t identify. But they intrigued me; the colony they had formed amongst each other on a reef that extended maybe a couple feet.

  Eventually, Camilla joined me and quickly pointed to an empty space of just sand. I shrugged my shoulders and went up for air.

  “Look closer,” Camilla instructed. After a quick but deep breath, we went under again and I stared at the empty space Camilla had pointed out until I saw the sand shift. Curiosity got the best of me so I swam closer and saw it; a stingray brushed the sand off himself and glided away. We followed it as we went back up for air and quickly went under again. At that moment, I wished with every fiber of my being that I had an underwater camera to eternalize this moment forever. A stingray!

  I had such an array of feelings coursing through my veins; I wasn’t sure which to allow myself to feel first. If human combustion were possible, I was sure I’d explode. And the doctor performing the autopsy would find me with a permanent grin and eyes whose light could not be put out.

  I excitedly made my way back to the boat where I started a forty minute monologue of everything I had seen. I talked while we put away our gear and didn’t stop until we docked and got off the boat.

  “Epa!” Camilla laughed. “Your Cuban is showing. Hands and tongue flapping so fast you made my head spin.”

  I laughed along with her and headed to our friends’ room for a quick shower. Later in the evening we made our way to Mallory Square to watch the sun set. Mallory Square had entertainment for all ages, but only the kids seemed to really notice the fire jugglers, tight rope walkers, dancing dog performers, and steel drum demonstrations. Children watched with their eyes wide as the magic unfolded in front of them. Their parents, already immune to magic, drank their beer and laughed with their friends, completely oblivious of the memories their children were creating without them.

  I sat on the sea wall, facing away from the ocean so I could continue to take in the commotion of Mallory Square, and ate the sandwich I had prepared for myself and Camilla.

  “Best damn sandwich. Ever,” Camilla said between bites, barely breathing as she inhaled her sandwich.

  I was just as hungry and was already planning a trip back to the Jeep to make another sandwich when a guy sat down Indian style in front of me and Camilla and offered us a banana. I shook my head, barely looking at him, a bit unnerved. Okay, very unnerved. I mean, who goes around offering bananas to people?

  Camilla, on the other hand, happily took the offered banana. “Thanks,” she said before taking a big bite.

  “Your friend’s kinda ornery,” he said to Camilla.

  Without thinking about it, I whipped my head towards him and was met with smugness. Pure smugness of the over confident, who dripped with the right amount of charm.

  “Hmmm...yeah, I guess she is,” Camilla responded with a grin.

  “That’s sad,” he said, his eyes wide with pity.

  “She has other qualities though,” Camilla chimed in.

  “I am not ornery,” I said defensively. “I just don’t want your banana.” I couldn’t believe I was having such a bizarre conversation with a stranger while my best friend grinned like a moron.

  “Because you don’t know me?” he volunteered.

  “Well… yeah.”

  “Because I’m the type of person who would go around handing out poisoned bananas to pretty girls?” he suggested.

  “Maybe,” I responded, trying to hold back the smile my lips threatened to reveal, because it could possibly happen. Maybe.

  “I’m Trent,” he said, extending his hand, which I shook firmly. “Now we’re friends.”

  “I still don’t want your banana,” I told him.

  “Ornery. Definitely ornery,” Camilla said, so I pinched her shoulder and Trent laughed.

  “What can I do to make you more comfortable?” he asked.

  “Leave,” I suggested while my lips continued to force a grin out of me.

  “Leave? I’m hurt,” he said holding his hand to his chest. “What if I told you I was in a band?” he offered. “Would you be impressed?”

  I assessed him, fully acknowledging the fact that I was already impressed simply because he had the self-confidence and balls to go up to random people and start a conversation. I was met with amused blue eyes, a quiet smirk, and disheveled long dark hair. Okay, I was also slightly impressed with his good features. But only slightly. “I dunno. Are you the sexy guitarist?” I asked boldly.

  “I play the harmonica.”

  “The harmonica?” I guffawed. I honestly couldn’t hold it in. The harmonica, really?

  Unfazed by my reaction, he nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, not impressed. Sorry,” I shrugged.

  “Hogs Breath,” he told me and Camilla. “I’m on at nine. You’ll change your mind.”

  “Nine, okay,” Camilla agreed.

  “Do I get names?” he asked me.

  “Camilla,” I said pointing at my friend. “And I’m Erin.”

  “Camilla and Erin,” he said as he got up to leave. “We’re like old friends already.”

  “I still don’t want your banana,” I told him with a mischievous smile.

  “I’ll think of something better then,” he laughed as he turned and walked away from us.

  I watched him go. Once out of sight, I turned to my friend. “I’m still hungry,” I told Camilla, who laughed at me.

  In the distance, I heard Led Zeppelin singing What Is and What Should Never Be and nodded my head to the music in silent agreement. It had taken hundreds of miles and a few years, but I had eventually found the happiness that lied within me.

  Chapter 4

  Shayna

  She had her own room now, but was too scared to close her eyes at night. It was too quiet when she did, so she tried to keep her eyes open as long as she could. It wasn’t a fun game though and her sleepiness usually won.

  She didn’t know the people she lived with. All she knew for sure was that police officers had taken her away from Momma while Momma slept on the floor. She hadn’t wanted to leave Momma, but the policeman that had carried her to his car said she had to. Momma wasn’t going to wake up, he told her. She was in Heaven.

  Heaven, where the angels live. Maybe Momma was happy there. Maybe she was so happy there she wasn’t going to come back.

  She wanted to go back home. She missed Momma. And she missed the baby dolls she left behind. They must be scared without her, she thought. They needed her to take care of them, to fight off the darkness that lived in their home.

  She thought Nate, the policeman who had carried her away from Momma, might be nice because he visited her every day. He’d sit down and watch her play with her baby doll while she pretended he wasn’t there. He talked to her sometimes, but she tried not to hear him. Maybe if he left, Momma could come back.

  Chapter 5

  Erin

  It was close to ten, but already Hog’s Breath was packed. We inched our way to the bar where Tonya and Brianna ordered some sort of fruity drinks with cute names while Camilla, Jermaine and I ordered Coronas. The music itself was pretty good, and I immediately recognized some of the older rock songs. And while I had never heard ACDC belt out a harmonica solo, it actually did the song justice.

  Eventually, Trent caught sight of
me and left his band and walked toward us.

  “Sexy guitarists ain’t got shit on me, huh?” he asked.

  “Eh,” I joked and made the hand gesture for so-so.

  “Eh?” he repeated in mock horror.

  “This poor girl has no taste in music,” Tonya told him. “Tonya,” she introduced herself, extending her hand to him, which he shook.

  “Well, Tonya,” Trent addressed her, “since you obviously know more than our Erin here, do you wanna sit up by the band? I saved a table.”

  “Yes, absolutely, yes!” Tonya exclaimed as she grabbed her drink, put her arm around my shoulders, and led us to the empty table.

  Trent winked at me before taking his place behind a microphone and started playing his harmonica, perfectly in synch with the rest of the band, as if he had not just taken a quick break. He was good, I admitted to myself. And yes, sexy.

  I tried to be discreet as I watched him play, which seemed ridiculous since he was performing and would want people to look at him. But I didn’t want him to catch me. Which again didn’t make any sense since he had gone out of his way to let me know he had noticed me. Which kind of made me feel uncomfortable with an exaggerated sense of confidence. I wasn’t really the type of girl to be noticed, but he had noticed me. And I was obviously over thinking everything. As usual. Welcome to my little corner of the universe where sanity does not obviously reside, I thought as I downed my beer and reached for another.

  Before I could get too comfortable, Tonya had me by the arm and was leading me to dance. I followed, grasping my beer firmly to my chest so as not to spill on anyone we accidentally crashed into. I sang (or rather shouted) along to War Pigs as I flailed my unoccupied hand in the air, every woman’s innate gesture to let the world know just how sexy she was. And, I had to admit, I was feeling rather sexy. Maybe it was the ambience, the alcohol, or the dancing, but in all honestly, how could I not feel sexy when a sexy non-guitarist looked at me with such intensity I was sure to catch fire by the end of the night?