Country Music (stompyourfeet) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2016-11-28 03:19:00 |
|
|||
Current mood: | hot |
Current music: | Civil Wars - Dust to Dust |
Who: Country Music
What: Johnny finally clues Jenny in
When: Sunday night
Where: Their apartment
For weeks after they'd gone to the bar, Jenny hadn't asked Johnny about the tension between him and Euterpe. She figured, if he wanted her to know, he'd tell her. But a good chunk of time had gone by, and she was just itching to know. There was still a lot about Johnny's life before that she didn't know about, but she was stringing it together in bits and pieces. (She was actually making a timeline in a notebook. She figured there should be a proper chronicle somewhere.)
Tonight found the two of them lounging around their apartment, not doing much in particular. The TV was on, but they were really only half-watching it. Johnny was jotting things down on a piece of paper every so often, and Jenny was playing on her phone every now and again. Finally, though, she figured now was as good a time as any. So she put it away and addressed her brother.
"When the three of us were at the bar," she began, trying to tread lightly. "It felt like the two of you had met before, which makes sense. But it felt like...it was more than that. More history than just 'Genre and Muse'."
"Wow, you don't beat around the bush at all, do you?" Johnny drawled, not looking up from his paper.
Jenny made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. "And you're avoiding the question," she accused him.
"Was there a question? I didn't think I heard one."
Jenny actually stamped her foot in annoyance. "Don't be a dick," she sighed.
"Darlin', did you ever stop to think that particular part of my past might be hard for me to talk about?" he asked, finally looking up. His face was hard and blank, and Jenny felt some of her righteous indignation leak out of her.
"I'm just curious," she said meekly.
"You know that killed the cat," he replied mildly.
"Yeah, and satisfaction brought it back," she muttered, sinking back into her chair.
Johnny sighed and put his paper away. He knew she wasn't going to let this go until he told her, so they might as well get this over with.
"This was a long time ago, mind," he began. "Early 40's, I think. I was only about 20. I was down in the deep South somewhere. Maybe Louisiana, might've been Georgia. But I ran into Euterpe in this tiny little dive bar. They had liquor, a juke box, and a dance floor, and not much else. I was still figuring out who I was, trying to get a fix on what I was supposed to sound like. But when the two of us played...well, you saw it at the bar. It's electrifying. It's like lightning under your skin, it's better than any drug." Jenny nodded her agreement.
"And we started talking, and we got to know each other, and then we started dating. Us moving in together without being married raised every eyebrow in that town." He chuckled softly. "When the baby came, I wouldn't have been surprised if some of those church ladies just disavowed us right there." He lapsed into a thoughtful silence before continuing. "We named him Hank."
Jenny snorted, because of course they had, and Johnny cracked a small smile.
"One day, when he was about four, he was outside playing in the yard. The town was so small, everyone knew everyone back in those days. And he had some friends a little ways up the road, but he was pretty good at playing by himself too. Hell of an imagination that boy had. And he knew not to leave the yard without telling us." He fell silent again, but this one was loaded, and heavy with the weight of a sad retelling.
"I had gone inside for...something, I don't even remember what," he continued. "And I heard the squealing of breaks, a thud, a crunch, a door slamming. I ran outside as fast as I could, and he was just...lying in the road." Jenny gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.
"He'd gone chasing after his ball, like kids do. He didn't see the car coming, and he was so small, the driver didn't see him until it was too late. We loaded him into the car and drove him to the hospital, but he...he was barely alive when we got there. He died in our arms in the hospital." Jenny had started to cry silently, her eyes huge and fixed on Johnny.
"We went back to our house, but it seemed too dark and empty without him there. They say when a child dies, the marriage tends to fall apart. We weren't even married, and that still happened. We started to fight all the time, over stupid little things. We were working our way up to the big one. We blamed each other for his death, we blamed ourselves most of all. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I moved up to Nashville. And that was the last time I saw her, before that night in the bar."
Jenny got up from her chair, and sat herself down next to him on the couch, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so sorry, sweetie," she whispered, her voice still thick with tears. Johnny kissed the top of her head. "Me too, darlin'," he sighed, turning a bit to hug her properly. She rested her head on his shoulder.
"What was he like?" she asked quietly, after a long stretch of silence.
"He took after both of us," Johnny told her. "Liked to get loud and messy, like me, but he had an affinity for music he got largely from her. Great singing voice, too. High energy, sweet as could be. Had a double dose of temper, too, and he hated being told what to do."
"Sounds like your child," Jenny said, laughing softly.
"You'd have loved him," Johnny replied. "He was taken from us much too soon, and I miss him every day. And sometimes I can't help but wonder what might've been, if he'd lived. I wrote nothing but sad songs for a year afterwards."
"I'll bet," she answered. "I don't anyone could blame you for that."
Johnny sighed, and extracted himself from her. He stood, stretching out his arms and back. "Drink?" he asked.
"Please," came the reply, now from the chair. "You hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get egg rolls."
"Get me some of those steamed pork buns," Johnny called, getting down the liquor.
"Glutton," she said fondly, but she was already dialing the number.