Small Steps Read online

  Kaira laughed.

  “Sounds good to me,” said Cotton. “Any ideas, Kaira?”

  “You want to try ‘Piece of My Heart’?” Kaira suggested. She had been listening to the Janis Joplin CD and it was her favorite song.

  “Let’s do it,” said Tim B.

  The place went crazy when they stepped back out onstage.

  “We’ve played every song we know,” Kaira told the raucous crowd. “So now we’re going to play one we don’t know!”

  It just might have been the worst performance ever of that song. Kaira had thought she knew the words, but she kept skipping around to different parts of the song and repeating parts she’d already done as the band struggled to keep up with her.

  But nobody cared. It was pure fun, and the audience was having fun right along with them. It was the way rock ’n’ roll was meant to be.

  Even the cutesy-dootsy backup singers, two of whom had already changed back into jeans, came out, and were screaming at the top of their lungs.

  “TAKE IT!”

  “Take another little piece

  of my heart now, baby . . .”

  The band tried to improvise a big finish, but in the end, the song just fizzled out.

  “God, that was awful!” Kaira said with a laugh amid the thunder of applause, and then she and the band left the stage for good.

  17

  As an army of workers cleared the stage, unhooking power cords, removing instruments and equipment, Armpit and Ginny were unsure of what they were supposed to do or where they were supposed to go. When they stood up their chairs were taken away. They made sure to hold on to their souvenir cups.

  There was no way down except through backstage. Besides, they had to get their regular shirts back from whoever had them. So, holding on to each other, they headed back through the curtain.

  It wasn’t as crowded as earlier, but the people who were there were in constant motion. Someone shouted, “Watch your back!” as a cart full of electronic equipment was wheeled past and out to a loading dock.

  “Ginny!”

  It was David, the red-bearded guy wearing the vest and no shirt. “Kaira’s looking for you. Here, follow me.”

  Armpit followed too, and David didn’t tell him not to. He led them along a very narrow passageway. As they turned the corner they saw and heard Kaira arguing with a large, athletic-looking black man, while Kaira’s bodyguard stood off to the side.

  “. . . could have been your best performance,” the man was saying, “but you know what the critics are going to write? ‘She’s no Janis Joplin.’ All they’re going to talk about is how you butchered her classic song!”

  “We were having fun! Rock ’n’ roll is supposed to be spontaneous!”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Cotton.”

  “Cotton,” the man repeated. He glanced at Armpit and Ginny. “This area is off limits,” he said.

  “They’re my friends!” said Kaira. “I invited them.”

  The man scowled, then turned and walked away.

  “Sorry about that,” Kaira said. “So, you guys want some ice cream?”

  “Yes,” said Ginny.

  “Uh, what flavor?” asked Armpit. He didn’t know why he said that. Sometimes words seemed to come out of his mouth on their own.

  “I’ll check,” Kaira said. She opened the door to her dressing room and went inside.

  Armpit and Ginny remained in the hall.

  “Well, come in,” Kaira said to them, as if she thought they were being stupid.

  Ginny entered, followed by Armpit.

  Kaira’s bodyguard started to come in as well, but Kaira told him to wait outside.

  Armpit was surprised by how small the room was—not much bigger than a utility closet. A small couch had been squeezed in between two walls, and a miniature refrigerator sat on the floor across from it.

  Kaira opened the tiny refrigerator, and the even tinier freezer compartment, which was just big enough to hold a quart of ice cream. “It’s chocolate chip,” she told Armpit. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure, fine,” Armpit said, wishing he had never asked about the flavor.

  “I can ask David to get you something else.”

  “Chocolate chip is my favorite ice cream!” he said, trying to put an end to the subject but instead sounding like a little kid.

  Kaira scooped the ice cream into two plastic bowls and gave them each one. “Well, sit down.”

  “You should get the couch,” said Armpit. “You’re the star.”

  “Shut up,” said Kaira.

  Ginny laughed. “She told you to shut up.”

  “I know. I heard her.”

  Armpit sat on the couch next to Ginny. Kaira sat on the floor and ate her ice cream right out of the carton.

  “I always get so hungry after a show,” she said. “Before the show I’m too nervous to eat.”

  “You didn’t seem nervous,” said Armpit. “You seemed really cool.”

  Kaira laughed. “Cool? Look at me. I’m drenched in sweat. It’s gross!”

  If Armpit knew her better he might have said, You think you’re sweaty. Man, you don’t know what sweat is! But he didn’t dare say that to Kaira DeLeon.

  “Why was that man y-yelling at you?” Ginny asked.

  “Him? That’s El—my manager,” Kaira said. “He’s all pissed off ’cause of the last song. Oh, sorry, Ginny.”

  “It’s okay,” said Ginny. “I h-hear b-bad words at school.”

  “I thought that last song was great!” Armpit said.

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” said Kaira.

  “Is it a new one?” Armpit asked her.

  “You never heard it before?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Janis Joplin?”

  He hadn’t, but he didn’t dare admit it now. “Maybe I have,” he said.

  “If you’d heard her, you’d know. She’s like my all-time favorite singer. You know, she was born right here in Texas.”

  “Have you met her?” asked Ginny.

  “We’re all going to meet Janis someday,” said Kaira. “But it won’t be in Texas.” She turned back to Armpit. “Have you heard of the Beatles?”

  “Shut up,” he said.

  Ginny gasped, but Kaira only laughed.

  “So what grade are you in, Ginny?” Kaira asked.

  “F-fourth. I was in fourth. I’m g-going into f-fifth.”

  “Fifth grade’s great,” said Kaira. “What about you? Are you still in school?”

  “I’ll sort of be a senior in high school.”

  “Oh, yeah? What sort of senior will you be?”

  “He missed a year,” Ginny explained. “He w-was at Camp Green Lake.”

  “She doesn’t need to know about that,” said Armpit.

  “What’s Camp Green Lake?”

  “It’s nothing,” said Armpit.

  “A juvenile correctional facility,” Ginny said, carefully pronouncing each word.

  “You mean like a jail?” asked Kaira.

  “It’s a long story,” Armpit said. “Four years ago I got in a fight and things got out of hand, and so I was sent to a kind of work camp for a year. And now I’m having to take summer school to try to catch up.”

  He wondered if Kaira now regretted shutting the door on her bodyguard.

  “Can I tell her your nickname?” asked Ginny.

  “No.”

  Kaira smiled. “What’s his nickname?”

  “Don’t tell her, Ginny.”

  “Ginny?” coaxed Kaira.

  “You better not,” Armpit warned her.

  “Come here, Ginny,” said Kaira. “I want to tell you a secret.”

  Ginny slid off the couch, and Kaira whispered something in her ear. Then Ginny whispered something into Kaira’s ear. They both looked at Armpit. Then Kaira whispered something to Ginny, and Ginny whispered something to Kaira.

  Armpit didn’t like it one bit. And he
didn’t like the way Kaira and Ginny smiled conspiratorially at each other either, when Ginny returned to the couch.

  “You told her, didn’t you?”

  Ginny shook her head,

  “She didn’t tell me,” Kaira said. She winked at Ginny. Ginny shut, then opened both eyes.

  There was a knock at the door.

  “Go away!” Kaira shouted.

  The door opened anyway and a bald-headed black man entered. Armpit recognized the drummer.

  “Oh, I didn’t know it was you,” Kaira said apologetically. “These are my friends, Ginny and Theodore. This is Cotton, our drummer.”

  “Well, not anymore,” said Cotton. “Your dad just fired me. I just wanted to stop in and say good-bye.”

  “He can’t do that!”

  “He can, and he did.”

  “But I’m the one who wanted to sing that song!” Kaira said.

  “Hey, don’t worry. I’m cool with it. This really isn’t the kind of music I should be making at this time in my life. I need to do something real.”

  “He’s not my dad,” Kaira said. “Just because he married my— As soon as I turn eighteen I’m firing his ass! Then I’ll call you.”

  “You do that,” Cotton said. “Nice to meet you,” he said to Ginny and Armpit without looking at them, then left the dressing room.

  “That sucks,” Kaira said.

  “Sorry,” said Ginny.

  “Yeah, me too,” Kaira said. She sat in silence for a moment.

  “Maybe we should go,” Armpit said to Ginny.

  “You know what I do all day?” Kaira asked. “I watch TV and play video games. All day.”

  That didn’t sound too bad to him.

  “I have no friends. But then finally, finally I find someone I can talk to. Someone I like. And so of course El Genius has to fire him. I swear that’s the reason he was fired. Not because we did that song. Because he was someone I could talk to.”

  Armpit could only follow about half of what she was saying. “We really ought to get going,” he said. “Ginny’s mom will worry.”

  Kaira turned to Ginny. “You like your mom?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re lucky,” Kaira said. “How about you?” she asked Armpit.

  “Yeah, I like Ginny’s mom,” said Armpit.

  Kaira laughed. “You’re funny. Man, you guys are so cool. It’s so great you can be such good friends, when, you know, you’re so different. I mean, different ages.”

  “Different colors, too,” said Ginny.

  Kaira went nose to nose with Ginny and said, “Well, duh!”

  “Duh!” Ginny repeated, right back at her.

  There was another knock on the door, and this time it was David with their shirts, washed, dried, and neatly folded.

  It was hard for Armpit to imagine this big, red-bearded guy washing their shirts.

  Kaira gave Ginny a good-bye hug. Armpit wouldn’t have minded one of those himself, but he just shrugged and said, “Well, see ya.”

  “See ya,” said Kaira.

  “So what did you and Kaira whisper to each other?” he asked when they got back to the car.

  “It’s a secret,” Ginny said.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “After I take you to this concert and everything, you won’t even tell me? Now I’m mad.”

  “Are you really mad?” asked Ginny.

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think you were.”

  “You didn’t tell her my nickname, did you?”

  “I j-just g-gave her a hint.”

  “A hint? What kind of a hint?”

  “I said it was a p-part of the b-body.”

  “That’s even worse!” He could just imagine what she was imagining. “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter,” he said. “It’s not like I’ll ever see her again.”

  “Yes, you will,” said Ginny.

  “Oh, I will, will I?”

  “Maybe.”

  18

  “Do you realize it’s after midnight?”

  “That’s how long concerts last.”

  “Then you should have left early.”

  “In the middle of the concert?”

  “Yes! You had a responsibility to Ginny, and to her mother. You have no idea how worried she was! She was ready to call the police!”

  Armpit knew that wasn’t true. He had just come from Ginny’s mother, who was delighted that Ginny had had such a wonderful time.

  “The best time of my whole life!” Ginny had said.

  They had told her about having ice cream with Kaira DeLeon, but not about the counterfeit tickets. They just said that Ginny had gotten a little overexcited and suffered a mild seizure. She was taken to the medical station, where they met Kaira DeLeon, and so on.

  Armpit didn’t tell any of that to his own parents. He felt like he was under attack the second he walked in the door, and so didn’t tell them anything except his name, rank, and serial number.

  He didn’t have to work Sundays and would have slept late, but shortly after nine someone turned on his bedroom light. He shielded his eyes as X-Ray smiled down on him.

  “What are you doing here?” His voice was a little bit hoarse from the night before.

  “Your mom let me in. Said it served you right for staying out so late.”

  When he and X-Ray were at Camp Green Lake together, they were forced to get up every morning at four-thirty. X-Ray always said that he’d sleep until noon every day once he was released, but his internal clock was permanently out of whack. It had been more than two years since his release, and he still couldn’t stay in bed past six-thirty.

  “So I guess you got to see the concert,” X-Ray said. “If you were out so late?”

  The last bit of sleep slowly cleared from Armpit’s brain, and the memory of the night before came back to him. “I’m going to kill you,” he told X-Ray.

  “Maybe your seats weren’t quite as good, but at least you got to see the show, right? No harm, no foul. Right?”

  Armpit sat up and placed one foot on the floor. “First I’m going to put my pants on, and then I’m going to kill you.”

  The pants he’d worn the night before were on the floor of his room. “That’s one leg,” he said as he stepped into it.

  “Wait, now just hold on a second. I got something here that just might cool your jets.” X-Ray reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. “Two hundred and ninety-eight dollars!”

  “My pants are on,” Armpit said, then slowly moved toward X-Ray, backing him against the wall.

  “Look, I had to make a business decision,” X-Ray said. “You weren’t there, so I had to do what I thought was right.”

  Armpit grabbed him by the collar. “What you thought was right? You thought you were doing the right thing?”

  “Look, what was I supposed to do? You kept calling me back, changing your mind. Sell the tickets. No, don’t sell the tickets, I’m taking Tatiana. No, I’m not taking Tatiana. Sell ’em. No, don’t sell ’em, I’m taking Ginny.”

  “And that’s the last thing I said,” said Armpit, shaking X-Ray on each word: “Don’t . . . sell . . . the . . . tickets!”

  “And I heard you,” said X-Ray. “I heard you. But I already agreed to meet the dude at the H-E-B. That’s the least I can do is still meet him, right? I can’t disrespect him. So I get there, and I’m waiting in the parking lot, and I’m thinking, if only there was some way you and Ginny could go to the concert, and I could sell the tickets. And then suddenly, right in front of me is a big sign: All Your Copying Needs. I’m telling you, it was like a sign from God! I mean, how many times have I been to the H-E-B without noticing there was a Copy King right there? Did you know it was there?”

  “God musta put it there just for you,” said Armpit.

  “So I go inside, but just to look around. Just
to see what’s possible, if you know what I’m saying. They had all different kinds of paper, and so I hold a ticket against the paper, comparing, you know, trying to find the right thickness. And then I made some copies—but just to see how they’d look, I swear! I wasn’t planning to do anything with them.

  “Then I got back outside, and the guy shows up, and I told him the tickets were no longer for sale. I did. I told him that. But he says he’s desperate. He offers me two hundred and fifty apiece. Sorry, I promised them to a friend. Three hundred? I mean, what am I supposed to do? I mean now we’re talking a total of six hundred!”

  Armpit glared at him.

  “You weren’t there. I had to make a decision. Look, I thought you’d figure out what to do when you saw people in your seats.”

  “We got there first,” said Armpit.

  “That’s impossible! I waited before coming to your house.”

  “So you just came over, handed me the tickets, without even a warning.”

  “I warned you. I told you to be flexible.”

  “Oh, I was flexible, all right. I had both arms stretched behind my back!”

  “I was afraid you’d blow it,” said X-Ray. “You’re not a very good liar. You look all guilty and nervous and I was afraid you’d never make it past the ticket taker. But if you didn’t know, you’d just waltz right in. I didn’t want to disappoint Ginny.”

  Armpit grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the floor.

  The door to his room opened. He let go of X-Ray and backed away as his mother entered.

  “You have a phone call.”

  “Uh, thanks.” He took the phone from her, and she walked out. He hoped she hadn’t seen the money on the bed.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. I hope it’s not too early.”

  “Uh, no, I just got up.”

  “We don’t have to leave for Dallas until one. You want to get together and have breakfast or something?”

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  “Cool! I’m staying at the Four Seasons. It’s next to a river or lake or something. If you want I can look up the address.”

  “No, I know where it is,” said Armpit. He had seen it from the bus.

  “Oh, and when you come, don’t ask for Kaira DeLeon. You have to ask for Samantha Stevens.”