Matthew Wayne Selznick

Previously: Lina Porter got an unexpected rescue, only to be caught out by her mother. Carson Meunetti went out for some air and found inspiration.
“Near Miss, New Maybe”
Lina didn’t have to be told; once she got home she went directly to her room to cool her heels until her father got home. Since she was supposed to be full of regret and dread, she resisted putting a record on her stereo. Rocking out to Hüsker Dü would probably paint the wrong picture, no matter how much she wanted to distract herself from what was to come.

Thing was, she was feeling some of that dread. It would totally suck — no, it would be beyond suckage — if she was grounded on the first day of summer. The way her dad had been clamping down lately, though, she couldn’t ignore the possibility.

There were three soft, perfectly spaced knocks on her door. Lina knew it was her little brother.

“Come in, Tim.”

The door opened and Tim shuffled in, head down and to the left. His lips turned up in a very quick smile. “Lina.” He closed the door behind him.

She straightened her spine and put some cheer in her voice. “How’s it going today, big guy?”

Tim sat down on the edge of her bed and she joined him. He leaned in so their shoulders touched slightly. Lina gently pushed against him.

“Did you do something bad?”

Lina sighed. “Mom and dad think so.”

Tim shook his head. “You shouldn’t do bad things, Lina.” She felt him tense. “Bad things are bad.”

Tim didn’t react well to stress in the house. He was especially sensitive when it came to his big sister. Lina felt lousy.

“I know,” she said. “Sometimes…” How to explain this to him? He was just two years younger than Lina, but emotionally he was like a little kid. His brain didn’t work anything like most. He was an amazing little guy and Lina loved him more than anything else in the world, which made this all worse. She didn’t want to upset him.

She took a breath. “Sometimes it’s hard to know you’re doing something bad.”

This must have surprised him. He looked right at her. “It is?”

“Sometimes.”

His head went back down. “Wow.”

She laughed. “Yeah. Weird, huh?”

“Yes.” He pointed at the bedroom door. “Are you waiting for dad?”

“Yep.”

“Uh oh!” His micro-smile shined like the sun for Lina.

“We’ll see, big guy.” She had a hunch and walked over to her bedroom window. Her father’s Mercedes was just pulling into the driveway below. “Go butter him up for me, huh?”

Tim seemed to think that was really funny. He chuckled. “Okay, Lina.” He stood up, crossed to Lina to give her a light tap on her shoulder (his version of a big hug), and went downstairs to meet their father.

Lina waited until she heard Tim walk back up the stairs, past her door and into his own room before she abandoned the safety of her bedroom and went to face her parents. They waited for her in the living room.

Her mother had apparently filled in her father. He was barely through the door and got right to it. He didn’t even loosen his tie.

“Where were you today, Lina?”

She tried for a semi-truth first. “This girl, Tammy. I hung out with her and her boyfriend.”

“Where?”

“Ian’s place.”

Her father’s eyes narrowed. “And that is where?”

“San Juan,” she said. “That mobile home park. Y’know?”

Her mother was on the couch. “Why did you lie about what you were doing?”

“I dunno…”

Her father said, “Look at me.”

Lina met her father’s eyes. It wasn’t easy.

“Was Eric there, Lina?”

The reply was a mental flinch, automatic and feeble. “No.”

He shook his head. “We’ve got a lot of practice with you, Lina. Try again.”

It was no use.

“Yeah.”

Despite the fact they had both apparently already figured this out, Lina’s mother and father sighed and put on their best “very disappointed” faces.

Her mother sounded terribly sad and exhausted. “Lina…”

She didn’t say anything.

Her father’s face was stony. “This is the last time, Lina. We’ve told you how we feel about him.” He glanced at her mother, who nodded and looked at the rings on her hands. “You’re grounded.”

And there it was. Lina bit her lip.

“How… long?”

“I don’t know,” her father said. “Until we decide we can trust you again.” He looked at her mother. “How long will that take?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“But…” This was unacceptable. Not now. Not for the summer! She thought fast. “But… don’t you want to know why?”

Her father sat down next to her mother and finally loosened his tie. “We’re listening.”

“I… I broke up with him.” They didn’t say anything. She pressed on. “I hadn’t planned on it, but… when we got to Ian’s place…” She thought about the dishes, the bed, the bong, the general mess of Ian’s little trailer. “…he’s such a slob, and, and there was… there were drugs there…”

“Drugs?” Her mother paled. “Lina, this is exactly –”

“I know!” She nodded quickly. “I know! I just… I guess I had to see it all for myself. I… I just kinda…” She realized she was fumbling. She skipped ahead in the story she was playing out in her head. She thought about the vodka; what Eric had tried to get her to do…

The day had been emotional enough that she was able to channel that into her speech. “I broke up with him on the drive back to the mall. Told him I just wasn’t into that stuff.” At that moment, she believed it.

That probably helped. Her father looked at her mother. Some unseen parental telepathy thing happened, and he said, “I’m glad you came to you senses.”

She shrugged. “It sucked.” She cringed at the unintentional pun only she could understand.

“But you’re done with him?” Her mother asked.

“Yeah.” Was she?

“That’s good.”

Lina put her hands together, pleading. “I’m sorry I lied. I am. I’m — I can’t help pushing back sometimes… it’s a teenager thing; it’s what I’m supposed to do, right?” She smiled weakly. “It’s in all the movies..?”

They stared at her. Tough room.

“I’m sorry. But if I hadn’t seen him today, I wouldn’t have figured it out. Right?”

Her father nodded. “Go on.”

“So please, please, please… don’t ground me. Please. It’s… it’s summer.” It didn’t take any acting to bring the moisture to her eyes. She really, really didn’t want to miss summer. “Please?”

More parental mind-talk. Lina stood there, helpless.

Her mother said, “We’ll think about it. Go to your room until it’s time for dinner.”

On the way home, Carson made one quick stop at a convenience store to pick up Stuff and Things, a free weekly classified ads magazine. He zipped past his parents, reading quietly in the living room, and bolted up the stairs to his room.

He turned on his stereo. It was still tuned to the classical station, so he whirled the dial all the way to the right and found KNAC, the new wave station that seemed to have a better variety than its competition, KROQ. The Replacements’ “Color Me Impressed” filled the room.

Car threw himself on his bed and flipped rapidly through Stuff and Things. He found what he was looking for about three quarters of the way through. “Bands Seeking Musicians.” Car looked specifically for the ads seeking bassists.

He frowned. That wasn’t him. Looks? Maybe. Big hair? Not even close. Songs meant a lot, sure… but he’d never written one. Could you write on a bass guitar? Car wasn’t sure he was that much of a singer, and it seemed weird to write something for someone else to sing.

Chops a must. That settled that. Car knew he wasn’t that good. Not yet.

The idea of going on tour was exciting, but Car knew he was a long way from that. He’d only just decided and hour ago to find a band that would take him. Might be a good idea to actually play a little before he thought about how cool a tour would be. Driving around, seeing the country, meeting people (girls!), staying in hotels… it would be awesome, when it finally happened.

He made a mental note to check out Jaco Pastorius, whoever that was.

Car thought about this one. He’d heard the Cramps and the Misfits, and he liked that stuff well enough. He thought he could handle that. He called the number.

A clear male voice answered on the second ring. “Yes?”

“Hi… I’m calling in response to the Stuff and Things ad for a bassist?”

“Oh, right. What’s your name?”

“Carson. Carson Meunetti.”

“Hey, Carson. I’m Don. So what are you into?”

Car shrugged. “Just about anything.”

“S’cool. You ever see us? The Donny Zombie Murder Show?”

Car had seen their flyers around town, that was for sure. They were the biggest local band around. Pinnacle Records even sold their 7″ single. He smiled.

“Never seen you guys, but I know who you are.”

“Cool. So, you think you’d be into our kind of stuff?”

Car hadn’t heard their music. One of their flyers came to mind: a pen-and-ink sketch of a skeletal, rotting corpse with a flaming pompadour and a leather jacket bent over an old-time microphone. Dripping, horror-movie lettering.

Car shrugged again. What did he have to lose?

“Sure.”

“All right, then. We’re practicing tomorrow night. Swing by, and bring some beer if you want, ‘kay?”

Car suppressed Christmas morning excitement. “Okay! I’ll be there.”

Dan gave him directions — it was in town — and they hung up.

Car stared at the phone. Was it that easy?

“Hee hee..!”

On the radio, Sid Vicious’ cover of “My Way” started up. Car leaped for his bass, switched on his little amp, and hunted for the bassline. A couple minutes later he was satisfied that he was at least as good as Sid, so that was something. Would it be good enough for Donny Zombie?

The phone rang. Car immediately assumed it would be Tess, then bitterly swallowed that down. Dammit, Tess…

“Hello?”

“Where the hell have you been all day, Carson Meunetti?”

Car grinned. “Hello to you, too, Lina Porter.”

“Oh my god, you will not believe the day I’ve had.”

He laughed. “No, you will not believe the day I have had.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“How’d it end up?”

“Well, I’m not jumping off any buildings, I guess. Tomorrow will be better… maybe really great, actually. You?”

“I came two inches away from being grounded for the… wait for it… entire summer.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Top that!”

“I’ll see you your ‘almost grounded’ and raise you a ‘Tess broke up with me.’”

“What!”

“Yeah.” Car told Lina about his afternoon.

“So you… wait, you passed up a trip to Costa freakin’ Rica so you could be with her, and she…” Lina groaned. “Car… that girl..!”

“Yeah.” His stomach hurt, thinking about it. “I know.”

“So what are you gonna do? Are you going?”

“Nope.” He smiled. “I’m gonna join a band.”

Quick and deadpan: “Don’t you need to play an instrument first?”

“Oh, hah hah. Clever. I’m getting better. Good enough, I think.” He told her about the lousy but earnest and inspiring garage band he’d heard, and the appointment to audition for the Donny Zombie Murder Show.

“Christ,” Lina said. “Eric loves those guys. He’s buddies with the drummer. Zane somebody or other.”

“Oh, yeah?” Car couldn’t keep his tone free of his general dislike of Eric Finn.

“Yeah… anyway, good luck and stuff. Do you want to hear about my day, speaking of Eric?”

“Sure.”

Lina told him an edited version of the day’s events. She’d known Car since forever, but she wasn’t about to go into certain details. She said she and Eric had a fight and skipped over the reason.

Car listened. “So… you’re not grounded, which is good. Are you really through with Eric?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Probably. I dunno.”

“Well…”

“I know, you think he’s an asshole.” Lina paused. “He kinda is. But that’s not the whole picture, y’know?”

“I guess.”

“Besides,” Lina said, “You’re all hot to go be in his favorite band!”

Car had to laugh. “Ya got me.”

Lina used a beat of silence to shift the subject. “So are you really going to do that?”

“What?”

“Audition for Donny Zombie.”

“Totally.”

“Okay…”

Car heard the skepticism. “What?”

“I’m just checking that this isn’t one of your trademarked things you do, a thing you get into for, like, a week.”

Car bristled, but had to give it to her. He tended to jump from one thing to another. For a while he was going to be a journalist. A poet. When Lina got into ceramics, Car started drawing. Everything kind of petered out.

“I really like playing bass.”

“Are you gonna tell those guys you’re going to school in the fall?”

“Yeah, why not? I can do both.”

“Okay…”

He laughed, defensively. “I can!”

“Okay, okay! I hope it works out, Car. Seriously. Maybe you’ll dump the whole law school thing and go be a rock star.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. My parents would probably keel over.”

“Can’t have that,” Lina said.

He loved her, but she was being a buzzkill. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re not grounded. Summer wouldn’t be any fun if we couldn’t hang out.”

“Oh my god, I know. Speaking of which, when are we?”

“Soon!” Car thought about it. “I saw Preston. He mentioned something about a party. If it’s happening, I’ll let you know.”

“Cool!”

They said their goodbyes. Car fought off the nagging doubt Lina unintentionally planted in him.

This wasn’t one of his things. He could do both. He could be in Donny Zombie and go to school; keep his parents happy and live a little bit of his own life.

He totally could.

“Save It For Later” by the English Beat rolled out of the stereo speakers. Car picked up his bass and dove in.
…to be continued!

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