Carissa let me buy all the clothes I wanted, and for the first time, the clothes would be mine only, and a part of me was excited. They didn't push me to call them Mom or Dad; they didn't push for much at all. They just watched me carefully. Something was always in their eyes that I couldn't quite catch. It unsettled me, but not for long, because Ben had no problem getting my attention. The dude seriously loved to talk, and always dragged me to play in his room, which was decorated in a Batman theme. I later found out Batman was his favorite hero.
They also signed me up for music classes, and honestly, I liked piano, but drums… They had a magnetism about them that made my hands twitch to grab the sticks and use all my power to make noise. Learning was painful too. Sometimes, my hands hurt, and it was a sweaty job. At the same time, I’d never felt better than after a good hour spent with the instrument.
That’s what brought me here.
The view in front of me was mesmerizing.
Brown, white, and gold colors.
Various instruments put together to make the most amazing sounds in music.
A drum kit.
I stood outside the music shop, my face glued to the window. I watched in fascination as a man played for the audience inside. He softly played one of Queen’s songs on the drums—the one that made them famous, “Bohemian Rhapsody”—as someone else played the electric guitar. The only thing missing was a great singer.
People passed by, probably amused by my behavior, and I wondered why they didn't stop to watch this thing of beauty. The level of expertise this man showed was outstanding. I wished someday I would be able to play as good as he did.
“I think you are allowed to come inside.” The voice was warm and a little amused. I looked up and saw Marcus standing next to me. "After all, that’s why we are here, right?" He winked, which made me smile.
Marcus and Carissa decided to give me yet another gift, which was a drum kit. I did my research through various catalogues they brought me, to make up my mind on the exact thing I wanted.
Although they were all out of this world great, there was one that spoke to me the most.
The bass drum was exceptionally white, like the first snow on a winter’s day; the China cymbal was shiny gold and, judging by the price, probably made out of it. Splash cymbals, hi-hat, various floor toms, hanging toms, snare drum, ride cymbal, crash cymbal…all those were made with great care, like a piece of art. I was sure they would provide the best experience for the performer.
“Are you sure?” I asked, biting my lip nervously. It was expensive, after all.
"Yes. Let’s go inside and do it.”
Later that day, my first ever drum kit was delivered to my doorstep.
One of the happiest days in my life!
3 months later
“I’m not hungry.”
“You have a busy day ahead. Eat.”
“Carissa, but I’m not—” She gave me the look. You know, the one a mother gives her child with narrowed eyes, which says do not shit with me. Yeah, that look. I raised my hand up. “Fine, fine. I’ll eat. Move, Ben.” He was sitting in my favorite place, and for some reason, he always would hop on it before me.
“Say please.”
“No. Move.” He stuck out his tongue at me. "Ben, come on. I’m not in the mood right now.” He raised his fork, took a bite from his strawberry-syrup-slathered pancake, and ignored me. I had to admit his food looked delicious, and even my stomach, which seconds ago wasn’t hungry, made growling sounds.
“Say please.” His words could barely be heard with his mouth full.
“Don’t talk while you chew, man. Gross.” He smiled, but the little shit still didn’t move. Before I could say anything else, Marcus came, kissed his wife on the cheek gently, sat down across from us, and chuckled.
“Jane, you and I need to go in fifteen minutes. Eat your breakfast.” His voice was soft yet firm, so I sat on a nearby stool, which was usually occupied by Ben, shot him a glare, and ran my finger across my throat, promising him retribution. He just laughed, the little shit.
I honestly had no clue why I kept fighting with him over my place. Maybe because in foster care, it was always important to know your place and, once you had it, you never gave it to anyone else. That way everyone knew their place.
Carissa put a full plate of eggs and bacon, and another with pancakes and blueberry syrup, which was my favorite, in front of me, along with a glass of green tea. Then she gave the same to Marcus, except he had delicious-smelling coffee. Once everyone had their food, she sat down as well and motioned with her fork for me to start eating.
I grabbed my fork and took my first big bite, and…well, the woman could cook. What could I say? The food was practically melting in my mouth, I was dying from the amazing taste.