If there was any pleasure in my life these days, it was learning about the music that my daughter enjoyed. Eclectic, to say the least. Punk, jazz, rock, classic pop tunes from the sixties and seventies.
I was haunted by some words sung by Janis Ian: “It isn’t all it seems, at seventeen.”
And when that song finished, something totally unfamiliar, and less professional, followed. First, some guitar reverberations, like someone was tuning up, getting ready to play. Then a bit of coughing, some giggling, then a young woman’s voice taunting, “Are you going to play it or what?”
Syd.
“Okay, okay,” a young man answered. “Just give me a second. I can lay the voices in right over what’s on the computer.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s going,” Sydney said.
“Okay, we’re good. Okay, so, this is a little song I wrote myself that I would like to sing-”
Sydney, adopting a mocking, low voice, interrupted with, “This is a little song I wrote myself I would like to-”
The boy said, “Would you knock it off?” Sydney made a snorting noise before the boy continued, “Okay, so, like, this song is called ‘Dirty Love’ and it is dedicated to Sydney.”
She began to giggle in the background. “Would you settle the fuck down?” the boy said.
I thumbed up the volume on the steering wheel-mounted control.
The boy belted out no more than a couple of lines. His voice was ragged, a harsh whisper with limited range. He sang, “She came into my life by chance, with a smile that put me in a trance.”
“Okay, stop,” Syd said. “I’m gonna puke. And I thought you were going to say, ‘She came into my life by chance, I can’t wait to get into her pants.’”
Now they were both laughing.
Sydney and Evan Janigan.
TWENTY
I NEARLY CLIPPED A FORD WINDSTAR when I did a U-turn on Route 1 and headed flat-out for Bob’s Motors.
There wasn’t any more to the selection. Once The Sydney and Evan Show finished, the iPod jumped to another song from the White Album, “Rocky Raccoon.” I hit the back button to put it on the previous track, then paused it.
The CR-V doesn’t exactly handle like a sports car, so when it bumped up over the curb leading into the Bob’s Motors lot, I nearly lost control. But I gripped the wheel firmly, got the car back on track, and spotted Evan at the far end of a line of cars, a washing wand in his hand. I sped down to where he was, hit the brakes, and screeched to a stop.
He held the wand suspended in midair, water trickling out the end, and looked over at me through the dark locks that hung across his face.
I killed the ignition and as I got out of the car took the metallic green, match-pack-sized music player with me. Without headphones it wasn’t as if I could play his song for him, but I thought holding it up for effect would make my point.
It did. The moment Evan saw what was in my hand, his mouth hung open.
Even though I was walking, I was coming at him pretty fast. Speaking over the flapping of the multicolored pennant flags strung overhead, I said, “We need to have a little chat, Evan.”
“What the fuck,” he said.
I closed the distance between us, took the wand from Evan’s hand, and tossed it to the pavement. “So you and Sydney weren’t that close, huh? All you did was have dinner at the same table.”
“I don’t know what your deal is, man, but you’re not my fucking father, you know?” he said.
“No, but I’m Sydney’s fucking father, and I want to know what was actually going on between you two.” I’d moved even closer, forcing Evan up against a wet blue Kia sedan.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Tim!” It was Susanne, standing atop the stairs that led up to the office. “Tim! What’s going on?”
I ignored her, and held the music player up to Evan’s nose. “I’ve been listening to Sydney’s tunes the last few days, and guess what just came up? Your little song that you dedicated to her.”
“So?”
“So?” I fired back at him. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Tim!”
It was Susanne again, moving toward us. She was using her cane and her gait was awkward and unsteady.
“Susanne!” I shouted. “Just stay there!”
Now Bob was coming out of the office, squinting in the intense sunlight, wondering what all the fuss was about.
“My dad’s gonna bust your ass,” Evan said. He was trying to be tough, but his voice squeaked, and his eyes were darting left and right, like he was looking for a way to escape.
Susanne, nearly breathless, had her hand on my upper arm and was trying to pull me away. “Tim, what the hell are you doing?”
I tried to shake her off gently. “He’s been telling me he hardly ever talked to Sydney. But not according to this.” I held up the iPod.
Evan shot Susanne a look. Susanne looked at him, then back at me. “What are you talking about?”
“You need to listen to this.”
“It’s no big deal!” Evan said.
“What?” Susanne said. “What is it?”
“He’s lied to us about how close he was to Sydney,” I said. “I wonder what else he’s been lying about.”
Bob arrived, slightly winded. Evan said to him, “Dad, get this asshole away from me.”
Bob grabbed my arm, much harder than Susanne had, and threw me up against the side of a Nissan. It knocked the wind out of me, but that didn’t stop me from bouncing back, grabbing Bob around the waist, and pounding him into the Kia.
“Stop it!” Susanne shrieked.
“You son of a bitch!” Bob said, trying to find enough room between us to land a punch. “Didn’t you get the message to keep the fuck away from my son?”
He caught me with his right in the side of the head, but there wasn’t much power in it. Just enough to make me mad enough to form a fist and drive it into his stomach.
But now Evan was on my back, screaming at me, locking his arms around my shoulders and pulling me away from his father, who now had a clearer shot at me. As Bob wound up, I shot out with my right leg and caught him right where it counts the most. His punch never connected, and instead he cupped both hands over his crotch and doubled over. “Oh God!” he said.
“Stop it!” Susanne screamed again. She’d dropped her cane at some point and was using a car to support herself.
I tried to shake off Evan, but he was holding on to me with everything he had, trying to use his weight to drag me down to the asphalt. I managed to get some leverage into an elbow and drove it into his stomach. It made him loosen his grip on me, and I twisted away, stumbled, and fell against the Nissan.
Evan wanted to take another shot at me, but Susanne lurched between us and shouted, “Enough! Enough!”
The MP3 player had gone flying during the melee and was on the ground near my foot. I
