“He’d be proud of us,” sighed Jake as the three of them headed upstairs for a late lunch.
“I bet he’s having a good laugh at us,” growled Grey sourly. “I get it. I understand it. I even kind of get the why but the selfish bastard’s left us in the shit.”
“Hey, that’s unfair,” challenged Paul immediately then paused, “But, I know what you mean.”
“None of this is fair but it is what it is,” replied Jake philosophically. “We owe it to Rich to make him proud of us. I just hope he’s found the peace he was seeking.”
In the kitchen, they found a note from Lori to say she’d taken the kids over to visit Maddy and that she’d left them a chicken salad for lunch. Grabbing some plates, cutlery and beer, the three friends settled themselves round the kitchen table. Outside, the rain was still lashing down, matching their own dampened spirits.
“So, what’s the plan for September?” asked Grey as he filled his plate with a second helping of salad.
“For out at JJL?” quizzed Paul.
“Guess we need to write and record an album,” commented Jake, feeling as if he were stating the obvious. “We’re contractually obligated to it. There’s not much choice really.”
“Will we be able to pull enough new material together by then?” asked Paul a little anxiously. “I’ve not come up with much. Not felt like it since we got back.”
“I’ve nothing,” confessed Grey. “It’s been the last thing on my mind.”
“We’ll manage it,” said Jake optimistically. “I’ve a few bits and pieces. Once I get this school workshop done and dusted, I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“Any idea if Rich had anything written?” asked Grey. “Might be an idea to call Maria. She might know. We might as well check to see if he can at least help us out of this hole from wherever he is.”
Nodding, Jake said, “I’ll give her a call later. His laptop was in the car so she should have it.”
“This feels weird,” sighed Paul as he finished off his beer. “It’s like he’s going to walk in that door any minute, bitching about the storm and ordering us back into the basement to rehearse.”
Exchanging wistful smiles, both Jake and Grey silently agreed.
“Well, how about we play for a bit and see where this rehearsal goes?” suggested Grey. “I need to pick my girls up at four but we’ve an hour or so on our hands.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Walking back into the high school on Monday morning with his battered brown leather book bag over his shoulder felt surreal. Guitar case in hand, Jake called out a good morning to the school office staff on his way past before making his way along the familiar corridors to the music department. In the years since he had last taught in the school very little had changed. There was something comforting about the familiarity that helped to ease his “first day back at school” nerves.
Methodically, he sorted out his notes then fetched a small amp from the music store and set up his guitar, ready to play if required. With a few minutes to spare before the students were due to arrive, he headed to the teachers’ base unit to make himself a coffee.
When he returned to the classroom, four of his students had arrived, three girls and a familiar-looking boy.
“Dorrian, right?” said Jake, hopefully.
“You remembered!” gasped the surprised student.
“Yes, I did,” replied Jake, smiling at the boy’s surprised expression. “How’s Becky?”
“She’s cool,” said Dorrian as his face flushed scarlet.
“Just be careful her dad doesn’t catch up with you two,” cautioned Jake quietly. “Nice to see a familiar face in class though.”
Turning his attention to the three girls, Jake asked their names then wrote all four names on the chalkboard – Dorrian, Angel, Mia and Gabriella.
As the other students arrived, he added their names to the list – Mark, Landon, Carlos, Cody and Cole – prompting him to joke that that was a lot of C’s to get his memory round.
Five minutes after the class was scheduled to have started, the door flew open and a tiny girl with dyed green hair flew in.
“Sorry, sir. Car wouldn’t start,” she explained then looked up and exclaimed, “Shit! You’re Jake Power! You’re actually him!”
Staring straight at the new arrival, Jake fought back the urge to smile. Struggling to maintain a poker face, he said, “And you must be the late Miss Riley. Take a seat. We can discuss your late slip at break.”
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, the girl sat on the first free chair with a clatter.
“Ok, let’s make a start,” began Jake warmly. “First things first. Let’s get all this star-struck crap over and done with. Yes, I am Jake Power. Yes, I am in the band Silver Lake. Yes, I sing with the British band Weigh Station. But, for the next two weeks, I am just Jake Power, music teacher. Savvy?”
“If you’re the big rock star, why are you spending your summer teaching class?” asked Cody bluntly. “Shouldn’t you be on tour or in the studio or something?”
“Too direct,” commented Jake firmly. “Musicians don’t spend their entire lives on the road or holed up in the studio. We have lives and families. I used to teach here a few years ago before Silver Lake took off. Over the years I’ve come back now and again to take a class or run a workshop. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of teaching any of you before. Silver Lake finished up their tour in June. We’re due in the studio in September so I’ve had some downtime. I’ve chosen to spend some of it with you. Is that ok with you, Cody?”
“Suppose.”
“Good. Glad
