Playing Patience(29)

He turned to leave my room, but suddenly turned back toward me.

“Stay away from that boy, Patience. I mean it. Stay away from him and that girl Megan. You have a car. I suggest you use it. I better not catch you around them again. Do you understand?”

He didn’t even wait for my answer. My room went dark again as he shut my door. I heard his footsteps go down the hall to his office and then I heard his office door open and close. The office couch was where he slept most nights, so I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about him again. I closed my eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep.

The next day I rode the bus to school. That was something I hadn’t done… ever, now that I think about it. Megan’s car was being worked on anyway, and I’d walk before I drove my car or asked my dad for a ride.

The school day went by pretty fast and before I knew it, I was on the field practicing. I was sidetracked and missed a few goals, prompting my coach to lay into me about the importance of practicing and getting a good night’s sleep. I thought that was funny considering the night before I actually slept pretty damn good.

I hitched a ride with my teammate, Casey, and had her drop me off at the Boy’s Club for my hour of volunteering. I knew I’d have to call my dad to get me and I remembered I wasn’t supposed to go around Zeke, but I’d made a commitment and I meant to follow through. If I had to jog all the way home I would.

Casey drove like an eighty-year-old woman and by the time I made it the Boy’s Club I was already twenty minutes late. When I walked in, I was met once again with the loud echoes of the boys wilding out around the gym. I narrowly missed a basketball to the face as I made my way across the gym to my group and Zeke.

My group wasn’t where they were supposed to be and I scanned the room until I found them. Tucked away in the corner behind the bleachers, Zeke was sitting in one of the small plastic chairs with his back to me. He was playing a guitar as the three boys sat with their eyes glued to him. The closer I got, the clearer I could hear what he played. It sounded pure, untainted by the rest of his band. I stopped in my tracks and listened as he played a song that sounded familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I knew I’d heard it before. Afraid to interrupt, I stood there and listened. It was beautiful.

It wasn’t the guitar that I’d seen him play before and I wondered where it came from. It was plain, beige, and looked too small for him, but he still played it perfectly.

“Can you teach me how to play?” the quiet boy, Alex, asked.

I’d never heard him talk until now. His eyes were lit up and he looked so involved in Zeke’s playing. It was such a special moment, but I knew Zeke would snap the kids head off and ruin it. Instead, he stopped playing and shocked me.

“Well, that song is kind of hard, but how about I show you how to play something easier. If you like it, I’ll teach something harder. Deal?”

Alex practically clapped his hands like an excited schoolgirl, then quieted down as Zeke started to pick an easy tune for the boys to listen to. It was a slow rendition of “Smoke on the Water” as he picked each chord slowly for the boy to learn. He was saying what each chord was and showing the boy how to place his fingers on the guitar. Then he handed Alex the guitar.

“Okay, you hold it like this,” he said as he positioned the boy’s hands properly.

Then I watched as he very patiently helped Alex pick each part of the chorus. When he was done, he looked up at Zeke like he was a god. It was so adorable.

“Good job, kid,” Zeke said as he ruffled Alex’s hair. “Now, see if you can do it by yourself.”

He praised Alex when he hit the right chords, then softly chuckled and helped him when he didn’t. It was like watching a completely different person and somehow I knew I was seeing the real Zeke.

I reached down to scratch my leg and it brought attention to me. Right in front of my face, Zeke turned into the asshole. His back went stiff and his eyes pinched at the corners.

“Okay, that’s enough for today. Y’all go play,” he said in a stern voice.

Alex smiled up at him, thanked him, and then ran off with the other boys. I heard him say something about being a rock star as he passed me.

“If there’s a guitar in a five-mile radius you find it, huh?” I asked as I sat beside him.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He didn’t look up at me as he picked at it and tuned it.

“Where’d you get that one?”

“Some kid brought it in and left it on the bleachers,” he answered.

“You’re really good with that thing.” I pointed at the guitar.

He grinned up at me. “I’m really good with a lot of things.”