Me and Ty went through a Simon and Garfunkel phase.
I am just a poor boy
Though my story’s seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
I copied the tape so I could practice for our rides and I was getting good. I had all the harmonies down and took it with me when we packed up our guitars, an amp, my bass, and drove deeper into Missouri to visit one Cousin Grin and gather around the Sons of the Devil for the last time.
Uncle Taste had suggested a reunion and we all packed up to see Cousin Grin, his son, daughter in law, and the Mighty and Unstoppable Ace.
Rose didn’t want to bring Less. She made a reason why it was impossible to bring Grasp. She only wanted to show off her Golden Boy. She only wanted me there. It’s the summer before my senior year, and before we get to Ace, let me tell you a little bit about what is happening in our house.
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
After the Trip that Mumble’s nephew had taken us on, everything soured. Rose had betrayed her youngest son, and to look at him brought her anguish. She started falling, and soon made it our fault.
She gathered the entire family together and gave her lecture.
“I went to the doctor. He said a few things that we all need to hear and accept. First of all, I have a heart condition. Sometimes my chest hurts, and all shouting and yelling and arguing needs to stop. Instantly. No one can say anything, and you just have to shut up and walk away.
“Also, he says I have depression and that I need to take meds. I think he is an idiot. I’m not depressed at all. I have a good life and I have God, but I am going to try this medicine he gave me called Prozac.
“Along with that, he said I do too much around the house. You guys have to start pulling your weight. Not Mumble, he is working long hours, but you,” she pointed at me, “and your sister.” She did not include Grasp.
“I am not going to cook all of the meals for the family. I just can’t. It’s not good for my heart. And you guys have been coasting for too long. You have gotten lazy and need to stop expecting me to do everything for you.”
At this point, both me and Less had many chores. Dishes, I did the dishes every other night after dinner, and Less did them on my off nights. We took out the trash, did the laundry, swept and mopped the kitchen, scrubbed the bathroom, vacuumed and washed the trash cans. Now we would also dust every surface and everything on that surface every other day. We had to sweep the ceilings, and we were now going to “Pick up and Straighten.”
Picking up and Straightening involved putting everything back in order that had been used. All the cups and glasses on all the tables in the living room, emptying the ashtrays. Reorganizing the pillows, and folding any blankets that had been used in the living room. When you were done “Picking up and Straightening,” the house had better look new.
“I need naps. And you can’t just run in and yell for me to wake up. You have to bring a cold wash cloth with you and set me up slowly, wipe my face and neck, and speak to me quietly. You need to wipe down my hands and my arms and whisper to me that it is time to get up. My naps last at least three hours and I can take them whenever I want. You are all in charge of anything that comes up during my naps. If people call, you tell them that I am busy and can’t come to the phone and you take a message. You tell any visitors that they can’t stay and you can’t go anywhere until my nap is over.
“No more gifts like pots and pans and other things for the house. You will buy me real, and very nice, gifts and I want them to be wrapped properly. Not just stuffed in paper. Jesse knows how to wrap a present right and he will wrap all of my presents. I get treats. Chocolate and cookies and everyone has to leave their hands off of something if I say it belongs to me. In fact, the freezer has a lock on it and all desserts and ice cream will be locked upm no question.
“You are all way too demanding on me and now it has started to affect my health. It’s over. It all stops now. Start hauling your share of the load or I will be forced to kick you out.
“And we are all going to start treating Grasp better. You two,” her stabbing finger swung from me to Less. “Have not been too nice to him and it stops now. He may not be your full blooded brother, but he is my son, so he is your brother, no questions asked.”
That was when I remembered that Grasp was Mumble’s son. It baffled me that I had to be told this. Less snarled at the words but did not object.
My freshman year, when I stopped sleeping for two weeks, I went to the doctor and was told I was bipolar. I was given sleeping pills. Rose let me have three. The rest of the bottle disappeared and I never asked about them.
I am sure that this is the point when Rose started popping pills. She took the Prozac for about two weeks. Decided she didn’t like how it made her feel. She wasn’t depressed anyway. God gave her joy deep down in her heart. And she wouldn’t let medicine dull that.
She had been diagnosed clinically depressed. And now she was untreated, except for her other pills. She always had a sedative when anyone needed one. And I was blind to what that meant for a long time. But after betraying her youngest son, and faking a heart condition, Rose started abusing drugs.
We arrived in the small Missouri town where Cousin Grin lived, and fight as I might, I cannot remember what it was called. He had a small house with a huge yard. A picnic table with a plastic table cloth stapled to it, and Uncle Taste was already there with his wife. Grandma and Stone arrived a few hours later, but first the Hootenanny.
We went into Cousin Grin’s house and we set up our instruments and there was a knock at the door.
“I hope you guys don’t mind. I told a few of my friends that you were coming and they wanted to listen and maybe play along if it didn’t bother anyone,” Cousin Grin said.
A second guitar player, that we would soon realize was definitely the lead guitarist. A banjo and a fiddle. We had never played with a banjo and a fiddle, and it took about two songs to get used to it, but it was amazing. The music we created that day was unbelievable. The fiddle didn’t need sheet music. Neither did the guitar or the banjo. They just played along as if we had all been playing together for years.
Stone showed up with Grandma and Uncle Ball and Uncle Wrath. When Wrath showed up, he waited outside. He was not interested in hearing any music. And Uncle Ball and Uncle Taste and his wife stayed out there, too.
“Let the boy play,” the fiddle said.
“Yes,” Stone added. “I want to hear my grandson play his bass. I have never heard him.”
Benny. The alter that plays guitar’s name is Benny and he improvised a song that afternoon. It was his first song. It was slow to begin with, but it picked up and he played his solo for about four minutes before bowing to applause and setting his crappy little bass in its case.
“Ought to let you folks get to it,” the banjo said. “We know how important family is and don’t want to impose.”
I shook hands, thanked everyone, and walked out to see that Cousin Grin’s son and daughter-in-law had arrived.
Ace was not there yet.
“What kind of ball you playing, Jesse?” Cousin Grin asked.
The yard fell to chirping birds and singing frogs.
“I don’t play any type of ball, Cousin Grin. It is not my thing.”
Every eye looked me up and down and saw me as if for the first time.
Now let me tell you a little about this family and ball. Uncle Wrath was an amazing baseball player. One of the best to come out of Milwaukee. Many said he could have gone pro, and I believe it. The Devil was overcome with baseball and had bred it into Wrath hard. I am not sure what position he played, but he could do all of it. Homeruns dripped from his bat. No ball got past him. He was a star that never shined.
He was out with the Princes every day and night, and when he started drinking all baseball fell away.
Uncle Ball was quick to pick up the baton. Basketball. Softball. Baseball. All of it was in his wheelhouse. He could play just about anything, and any talent he had was just athleticism. He just had the ability to move. He could see his way to a score no matter what he was playing.
Both of these men wanted me to follow in their footsteps, and for a while I did. Me and Uncle Ball played all the time when he lived with us. He pitched for Rose and Mumble, and either pitched them out or I fielded them out almost instantly. He could hit almost every time, but I was a slugger. I could see the ball and the bat. That is about it. I had a habit of knocking the ball over everyone’s head, out of the yard, across the street and deep into the big yard of the neighbor across from us.
I was good. I loved it.
But one night in the dark watching fantasy with Tigress and Uncle Ball during one amazing summer and I shoved all of that away. Now I was building weapons out of scraps of things I found in the neighborhood. I practiced sword swings and I knew how to move one.
The next time Uncle Ball came to visit, he took Rose, Mumble, and me outside and my stance was gone. I held the bat with one hand and I twirled it around my body before every swing. I was still a slugger, but when Uncle Ball saw what I had done to my skills he just gave up on me.
One day in Waynesville, once I had moved there, he tried to get me back into it, but I was playing Dungeons and Dragons at that point, and I was gone.
“The boy doesn’t play ball,” Stone snapped.
“What does he do?” Cousin Grin asked.
Stone, the Son of the Devil, looked his cousin in the eye and the conversation went another way.
“Well, Ace is a catcher,” Cousin Grin’s son said. “There is nothing like him. He is fast. Smart. Can throw from the plate out of the field. He can hit anything that flies and he is so good he is being scouted by a few teams. Ace is going to play professionally very soon. He graduates next year, and then he is off to the minors.”
The man looked at me as if he had just reached out and ripped my dick off, but he didn’t get the response he was looking for.
“That is amazing!” I said. “That guy has always been a star. He was handsome when I saw him last. Did he turn out to be a looker?”
“Ace is the most desired boy in the town. Every girl would bite off her fingers to be with him,” Ace’s mother said. She looked at me as if I should be jealous. But I wasn’t. Me and Draconic were still sparking and burning every time we were close to each other. I knew that no matter how beautiful Ace’s girls were, none were more beautiful than Draconic. Making me jealous with Ace’s achievements was impossible.
“He gonna be here today? I would love to see him,” I said.
The entire yard looked at me, wanting something I was not giving.
“You guys are great and all, but I came here to see Ace. Tell me he is going to be here.”
“Sounds like you want a kiss,” Cousin Grin’s son said.
I sat on the bench, leaned against the table, looked at Stone and flicked my knives out of my pockets. The whole yard gasped. It was fast as a blink and I looked down at them and smiled. I spun and stabbed Guardian’s knife into the table.
“He’s not my type,” I said.
Silence until Stone pointed at Grin’s son and said, “You ever say anything like that again, I’ll take this kid’s knife from him, you hear me?”
“Jesse, will you please put you’re knives away. Who needs two knives anyway?” Rose said. “Give one of those to me.” She held out her hand and Stone pounded his fist on the table.
I walked away with both and leaned up against a distant tree.
“Is he a criminal?” Cousin Grin’s daughter-in-law said quietly.
“No, my son is no criminal, shame on you. He is just very protective of the people he loves. He plays the bass guitar, and he sings. He plays that guitar at church and he is such a good boy and he is not a criminal.”
I looked at Uncle Ball, who had remained quiet for the entirety of the reunion so far, and he was staring at me. Uncle Wrath threw me cautious glances, and that is when I knew both of my uncles had a healthy fear of what I was becoming.
“The boy’s got Mocking blood in him. He is a good man, just not a man you want to mess with,” Cousin Grin said.
Stone nodded. “Reminds me of someone,” Stone said to Grin.
Grin laughed. “You’re right. Spitting image. I didn’t see it til now, but those knives, that hair,” Grin laughed. “You’re right. Damn.” Grin slapped his leg and started telling stories. He was telling stories about the old days. Their old days when the Sons of the Devil ran through the villages and towns of West Virginia.
Grandma walked over to Uncle Wrath. “You gotta get Grin to stop talking about the old days. It’s upsetting Stone.”
But as I looked at Stone, I could see that a bit of him was coming back. A bit of what I had seen as a kid. He laughed a quiet chuckle. He shook his head. He nodded. And if I squinted, I could see a cigarette in his hands and a hand of poker in his grip.
Uncle Wrath whispered in Grin’s ear, and Grin started talking about Ace again.
When Ace showed up, it was immense. I call him Ace for a reason. A truck pulled up, blaring rebel country, and I looked up to see an old pick up with a guy driving, and three girls on the bench seat. Standing in the bed of the truck gripping the roll bar was Ace, wind in his hair and shirt flapping. He is everything you are seeing for sure, but I am going to describe him anyway.
Ace had hair that was shaggy but not long, just touching the bottom of his shoulders maybe. He had a smile that would stop a girl’s heart. His shirt was doing nothing to hide the bulk beneath it, and his blue eyes owned everything they dropped on.
He floated out of the bed of that truck and everyone piled out of it.
From the truck jumped a dog. Looked like a beagle mix but I might not have that right. It barked and ran straight to Cousin Grin, and here is what I will say about Ace.
Imagine that you reached up to Mount Olympus, straight into the Greek pantheon, and you gently grabbed Apollo. Took the sun crown off of his head. Gave him a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and shorts, and let him walk into a family reunion.
Then you would have Ace.
Wrath said a few things to the girls that got them laughing. Ball said a few things to the girls that got them giggling. Then one of the girls came to me.
She had a squirming bag in her hands and she smiled at me. “Who are you?” she said.
“My name is Jesse.” I shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m Budding.” She stared at me for a while.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Glad you asked,” she chirped. She laid the bag carefully on the ground and opened its top. It looked like a pillow case to be honest. And slowly, out peaked one, then two, then seven white furry heads. They began to crawl around and I saw that seven tiny perfectly white kittens had escaped her bag.
“You’re killing me,” I said, as I looked down at them spreading across the grass and stumbling over each other. “Can they even see yet?”
“They opened their eyes yesterday. The mother is dead, but I brought them to see if anyone wanted to take any home. Do you want one?”
“Allergic,” I said with a sideways grin.
She had black hair. It was wild on purpose. She had a lean body and bronze skin. She had blue eyes, and if you are picturing a country girl slowly budding into a goddess, you’re getting close.
A flutter of movement at our feet and a tiny scream. Then the budding goddess started screaming as well.
I looked down and the dog had a kitten in its mouth. It was shaking its head back and forth, and the girl was losing her mind.
I turned my foot to the flat and kicked the dog in the flank hard enough to startle it. It dropped the kitten and ran. The girl walked away crying.
The kitten’s back was broken. It was bleeding from parts of its middle, and the dog had yelped. The kitten’s tiny screams rioted in my ears. And I knew what had to be done, but I really didn’t want to do it.
“Can I ask you why you kicked my dog?”
I turned to see Ace. He was about seven inches bigger than me and had about thirty pounds on me, but I never thought to pull a blade. He had a stern look on his face but the fact that he had not just walked over and punched me, but asked a question first, was a good sign.
“Your dog had that kitten in its mouth. I kicked it with the flat of my foot to get it to drop the kitten.”
Ace’s face broke into a mask of pity. He scooped the kitten up and held it to his face. He stared at it and shook his head. “Got a vet in town but—”
“Its back is broken. We have to kill it,” Shadow said.
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
The kitten was still screaming when Ace brought it to the picnic table. All of the women were crying. All of the men pulled back. “We have to put it out of its misery, Ace. That thing can’t go on like that,” his dad said.
Every man looked at every other man, but no one had anything to say. None of the grown men had the stomach to do what needed to be done. Ace’s father pointed at me. “Tell that one to cut its head off,” he said.
“Go drown it in the creek,” Cousin Grin said.
I looked at Stone and he nodded.
Ace walked to the river and I followed. The creek was at the back of the property guarded by a few trees and shrubs.
“Drown it and it will suffer as it dies,” Assassin said.
“What do you want to do?” Ace asked.
“Gotta act fast,” Assassin said. “Give it to me.”
Ace handed it to me and I blocked view of my hands, turning my back to the reunion. Assassin snapped its neck. “Tell them you drowned it, please.”
“Who are you?” Ace said to me.
“Jesse.”
“Holy shit, I haven’t seen you in over a decade.”
“Gotta do this,” Assassin said.
“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.”
He dropped to a knee and plunged the kitten under the water.
“Hold it for a while.”
“Yeah,” he said.
When he was done, he had a fist full of wet dead white kitten in his hands. Assassin didn’t know this boy at all. He had no real idea of who he was or what he was about. But Assassin didn’t hate him.
The reunion went on for a while but the screaming kitten had ended everyone’s fun. Ace’s friends left after the budding country goddess gathered the other kittens. Ace and I buried it. It didn’t take long.
We walked to two trees close to each other and sat, each of us leaning against a trunk, looking at each other.
“You’re amazing,” Shadow said. “Kind of a legend. I hear about you all the time from my uncles.”
“Yeah I bet.”
“You’re going to the Minors?”
“Yup.”
“Good luck with that,” Shadow said. “I hope you get what you want.”
“I hope I figure out what I want.”
Shadow lifted an eyebrow. “You’re a god here.”
“Their god.”
“Yeah, they are not impressed with me. My uncles are a touch afraid of me, and your mother and father think I’m a criminal.”
“Fuck that,” Ace said. “You play any ball in your area?”
“Do I look like a ball player to you?” Shadow said.
“You look like a middle finger.”
“Yeah I get that.”
“Come with me. Me and my friends are going out tonight just to have a little fun, nothing major, and I think Budding likes you.”
“We are heading home tonight.”
“I can take you home tomorrow. Come on, I’ll show you a good time.”
“Rose will never go for it.”
“If I tell my dad you are staying the night and my grandfather hears me, they will make it happen. Your mom might be tough, but she will do as they want.”
“You get everything you want, don’t you?.” Shadow said without a hint of anger or resentment.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Not this time. Tell your friend I am sorry about her kitten. I gotta go.”
“Too bad,” he said. He stood and we hugged. “Come back.”
“I will.”
Never did.
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him til he cried out
In his anger and his shame
“I am leaving, I am leaving”
But the fighter still remains
On the way home, my parents listened to country up front, and in the back seat laid out, watching lights flash by, I listened to my walkman singing the harmony. We stopped in Springfield for dinner and she begged me to stop singing harmony. It was driving them crazy to hear just the harmony of all the songs they loved so much.
“Sing with me,” I said. “Let’s play the tape in the car and we can sing together as we drive home.”
But they didn’t.
And quietly to myself, I just sang the harmony where no one could hear me.
Jesse Teller 
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