And Brenda Married Me

Chapter 5
Chapter 5

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Chapter Description: Caution, it has been suggested that this story may cause cavities, please remember to brush and or floss after each readhing

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We wound up spending the rest of the week at the Corbin Estate. Sandy wasn’t kidding about needing a transmitter, either. The food was the best I had had, ever, and I would be sorry to leave there, but the size was daunting to say the least. On Saturday morning, we all drove over to the Owen’s Hotel.

Chairs, equipment and people crowded Miller’s Field. Guards tried to keep people away from the makeshift stage. I could see mikes, and speakers, but no piano, yet. Mrs. Owned was busy with arrangements, and I didn’t see the twins

Brenda, standing next to Larry, spotted us. She walked toward us while I pulled Uncle Roger’s sleeve. She started shouting at us, and pulled a large pistol. I saw her raise the gun, and take aim not at me but Kyle. Without a second thought, I jumped on the piano player and knocked him down just as I heard two cracks from the pistol, and I felt two shots fly just over our heads.

Kyle turned white. I looked around to see Roger, with two guards and Larry fighting Brenda to the ground. I rolled off the kid.

"You saved my life," he whispered to me.

"Yeah, I guess. Don’t worry about it."

He sat up. "But you saved my life."

"Okay. You were talking to Sandy, and didn’t see the crazy lady. You’re welcome."

Mr. Corbin ran over to where I was getting to my knees. "Was anyone hurt?" I shook my head.

"Uncle Steve, Simon just saved my life."

"I wish I was that brave," Sandy said. "I mean, Simon knocked Kyle down maybe two seconds before that lady fired at them."

"Simon, I don’t care what it is, I owe you everything. What do you want?’ Kyle insisted.

"Me? If you want to get me something, I want a double banana split at Dillards."

"I mean for real. You want a billion dollars? I’ll give it to you."

"Oh, man, you are getting much too old, you know? Your brain is all crusted over. What would I do with a billion dollars? You’ve got billions, or you couldn’t give me one, What do you do with a billion dollars?"

"I hadn’t thought about it. I have castles in Germany and England now," he said.

"Okay, so, what do you do with them? I mean are there ghosts?"

"No, not that I saw, but I only visited them once."

"Okay, but if you wanted to live in one, you know, pick a room and move your stuff in, could you?"

He shook his head. "No, I’d have to spend a major fortune just getting one of them redone from ground to turrets, before I could,"

I nodded. "Okay, so that’s out. I mean, I guess having castles is nice, but so is having a billion dollars. It’s something to have. But, if I gave you a billion dollars, what would happen?"

"Uncle Steve would .... put it in a trust fund and I’d never get a chance to spend it."

"On the nosey! Having a billion dollars is nice, I guess, but that’s a grown up thing. I’d never get to do anything with it until I was too old to have fun with it. If you want to thank me for saving your life I want a double banana split at Dillards.

"See, I will love every bite, and it’s not something I could buy for myself because Uncle Roger would say I couldn’t eat it all, and I can. And, because you bought it, I’m not wasting my allowance on something I can’t finish."

"I could never argue with logic like that," Kyle said. "You and I are going to stick together, because you are going to be dangerous when you get to be my age."

"Sandy, did you get all of that?" Mr. Corbin asked.

"Yes, not word for word, but he’s right. Can I have a double banana split at Dillards?"

I want that printed out along with the ’I’m from Massachusetts’ sign so I will remember who and what I’m dealing with in three years. And no, you couldn’t finish one."

"You’re wrong, Dad, You are so wrong. If Simon can I know I can."

"Sandy, take a note for me, too. I owe Simon ten double banana splits and I will pay up. Since I’m buying I get them, too. You can pay for your own."

"Sandy," his Mom cut in. "You couldn’t eat a double banana split, so I won’t hear of it."

Sandy grimaced, and held his breath. "It’s okay Mom, when Kyle takes the kid to Dillards, I will get a single split, Kyle, grownups are not allowed on those trips, right?"

"Right. And, Aunt Winnie, I will rat on Sandy in a heartbeat if he even things about a double split."

"Simon," Roger said, walking back to us. "You are not getting a double split, You couldn’t finish it."

"It’s okay, Kyle’s going to buy it, you know, to say thanks."

"Okay, that’s fine but if you stuff yourself to the gills and get sick, I don’t want to hear about it."

Everyone laughed. Mr. Corbin just sighed., "Not only does your nephew have a very evil mind, but dangerous as well. I think he just corrupted my son and my nephew."

"I wouldn’t put it past him. The police have the crazy lady, kiddo, but they need to ask you a few questions."

With a shrug, I followed Roger back. Larry stood there, looking stunned. Two officers were with him, and another crowed of people were there, too.

Mrs. Owens hurried over to join us. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, thanks to Simon," Kyle said. "He saved my life. I mean he yelled something, and tackled me and two seconds later I heard a gun and two shots went right over my head."

"Son, you saw the whole thing?"

"Yes, sir."

"And your name?"

"I’m Simon Farrell. He plays the piano and I sing. We’re doing a recital this afternoon, and...."

"Dear Lord, you can sing. Would you?" the man said and held out a pad of paper. "For my whole family?"

"Don’t listen to him, Simon, Officer Jones doesn’t have a family, he just wants to make a quick buck. I have a real family. Would you?"

I laughed, "Okay, for a real family,"

"What happened?" Officer Jones asked me.

"We were walking up Miller’s field and I saw that lady pull a gun. I knew her, she broke into our house a few days ago, and there she was, about to shoot Kyle. I got him down before the gun went off, and that’s about it."

"She said you ruined her life."

I shook my head. "I don’t get it. I just moved here from Massachusetts. I lost my Mom and Dad and my Uncle Simon like all at once. That lady was my Uncle’s wife, but I never met him except on the phone. I never saw her before she came over, and I don’t know why she hates me."

"She won’t be out for a long, long time, so you don’t have to worry about her, okay?"

I nodded. Somewhere, deep inside, I knew I would always worry about her, but she made it hard.

As the officers withdrew, a lot of people headed toward us. "Are you Simon Farrell?"

I nodded, then looked up at Uncle Roger for support.

Mr. Corbin glared at the crowd. "Please, the kids have just had a really horrible experience, let them get over it. Simon and Kyle will be ready for this afternoon."

We managed to get into the hotel, where news was just getting around. Mrs. Owens took us back to a private wing, and I needed a chance to collect myself.

The second I sat down, Uncle Roger put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, no, I don’t know." There was no one else around. "She still means everything to me, you know. Even after everything that happened."

"I know, son. She always will," he whispered. "In my case, this is easy. She has been the crazy lady for as long as I’ve known her."

"You didn’t love her. It’s going to be hard to say good ’bye," I said.

"Hey, Simon," Collin Owens said from the doorway. "Mom’s got pancakes for you and Kyle, and us too, but..."

"I am so there. Later," I said jumping up from the chair.

"Another tender moment ruined by pancakes," he said.

I flashed him a grin. "Yep."

After breakfast, Kyle took me back down to the music room. "You want to run through those songs again?"

"Okay. I play the piano and you sing."

He laughed. "Okay." I sat down at the piano. I warmed up for a moment, then played a melody that had been banging around inside my head for the last hour, waiting to get out."

"Where did that come from?" Paul demanded.

"Something I’m working on. It’s top secret."

He nodded. "Go ahead, kid. Play ’The Journey Home."

I did, and Kyle sang. He had a strong voice, clear, it didn’t crack, and he could carry a tune, but his voice wasn’t that great. At the end of the song several people joined us. I clapped. "That was good."

"No, it wasn’t. I can’t sing, but you can play the piano, that’s so unfair."

’Deal with it. Okay, you play the song."

Kyle and I switched places. He played the music, but with so many trills and runs it wasn’t funny.

"Would you play that so I can sing it?"

"It’s never good enough for you, is it?"

"Tell you what, you play Chopin and that piano piece we wrote, and I play my songs, okay?"

He grinned at me, and played it straight. "Better?"

"Much," I said. "Okay, you play and I’ll sing this time."

A bunch of people applauded. I looked up. "I mean, the song’s played every other second on the radio. You really want to hear it again?"

"Yes, now that we can put a face to the voice," one lady said. Everyone else clapped some more. One girl, closer to Kyle’s age called out. "You look exactly like I thought you would, and you are so cute."

"What about me?" Kyle asked. She just waved her hand.

"Okay. Hit it, Mr. Gray."

He played the intro, I closed my eyes and sang. All the way through the song I kept thinking of another song, but it would need much more work., At the end, even on auto-pilot, people loved it.

That was a first, I thought, as Uncle Roger drove us home. I had a blast with the recital. Kyle played the piano piece I wrote for him. I sang two songs, and I never heard so much applause.

I had an appointment the next day at the Corbin’s recording studio, and that evening at Dillards.

The next morning, I found out that Mr. Corbin, if nothing else, thought big about everything. He said he would hire an orchestra for my songs, but Uncle Roger refused, and I agreed. The studio had everything, including a lounge for the artists complete with free coffee and sdoda.

I sang my second song, and the playback sounded so much better. I loved it. "Can I do another?" I asked Mr. Corbin.

"Sure, I didn’t think you had another one ready."

"Neither did I, but I have to do this one," I told him.

’What’s it called?"

"’It’s Too Hard to Say Good ’Bye.’"

"Okay. Go for it."

I hurried out to the studio, and found Uncle Roger starting to put away his guitars. "I’m going to sing another song. I don’t need a guitar for this."

"Oh, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted. Okay, but...."

"Go, you’ll see why."

I settled back down at the piano. I waited for the cue, and started the intro I had heard the day before. I held a chord for a moment, and spoke into the mike, "This is for my Mom and Dad. I played another chord, and started singing. I sang for my life as a grown-up, and for seeing Brenda led away. I sang for my new Mom and Dad that died, and they seemed more real than anything else.

".... I know that I never said what I felt, I never found the right words Now that you’re gone, and my world is in ashes, it’s still too hard to say good ’bye. I will always love you, and never stop missing you, but I can’t find the words and it’s breaking my heart to try." I played for a bit more, then said, into the mike, in a small voice, "Good ’bye."

I turned around on the bench and started to wipe my eyes on my sleeve when Roger picked me up, and held me. He was crying harder than I was.

"Simon, I’m so sorry. Where did that come from?"

"My heart," I told him.

He nodded his head, and handed me over to Mr. Corbin, who hugged as hard. "Why is it that every time you open your mouth you make me cry. I don’t think there is a dry eye in the studio."

"The last couple of days all I saw were Moms and Dads, and I never really had a chance to say good ’bye to mine. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but I had to sing that song."

"Yes, you did," Roger said.

"I feel better now," I said. "Can I sing another?"

Roger sighed. "Simon, that’s ’may’ I,"

"Oh, right. Can I sing another song, and may Uncle Roger play, too?"

"As many as you want," Mr. Corbin said. "And, if you ever need a Mom and Dad, Winnifred and I are there for you."

I nodded my head. "Thanks." He let me down. "This one’s a happy song. I mean, I don’t want to be the known just as the kid that makes you cry."

He laughed, and headed back to the sound booth.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I really am. That’s been eating at me."

 

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