Mason
I’ve gone to visit Ray every day since the funeral. It’s been three weeks, and I’m pretty sure I’ve formed a lifelong habit—I no longer think I would know how to begin my day without waking up at the sunrise and bringing my coffee to his gravesite to have it with him.
I talk when I’m there. I talk a lot. And I swear he answers. Maybe he just taught me well, and I know everything he would say. Whatever it is, my mind is clearer out there with him.
Matt and Josh both stopped by to visit yesterday. They’ve decided to stay in Arizona, and we’ll probably play together every now and then. Nothing formal, just gigs for fun. Ben handled the news about as well as we all thought he would, swearing me off for good and leaving without ever looking back. The more distance I get from him, the better I feel about my decision to end the tour early. His house still sits vacant, and I hope like hell he never comes back. I think Ben was going down a very dark road, and I think his poison could have taken us all down with him.
Kevin was just as understanding as I told Avery he was, but he didn’t make me any false promises either. He told me they could cover the last stretch of the tour, but that they probably wouldn’t look our way for gigs again. It was a tradeoff I was willing to make, and for once, I’ve never felt more resolved about a decision.
“Let’s see…what do I have on tap to talk about today,” I say, sitting down in the soft grass next to Ray’s stone. I pull a coffee from Jill’s Donuts out, and place the cup above his name. I always get one for him, too—though I usually end up drinking both.
“Avery’s doing well. She’s opening the place back up tonight. She took the semester off school, and they let her drop her grades until she can pick back up again. I f**kin’ hate that she had to do that. Sorry, I know you don’t like swearing,” I say, unable to stop my smile while I sip at my hot coffee.
“I’ve been careful with her. You know, like we talked about? But I gotta tell you Ray, I’m afraid we’re falling into a pattern. I visit her, but I don’t stay long. I help out with small things, say hi to Max, maybe play him a song or two to practice on his music program. I feel like I’m just an appointment on her calendar, and I don’t know how to break that cycle. It’s like a giant game of double dutch, and I don’t know when to jump into the ropes. Hell, girls were always better at that game.”
I break off a piece of the donut and toss it in the grass for a couple birds that have gotten used to me. I think they actually wait for me to show up every morning now, too.
“I’m playing tonight. Josh and Matt might join me. There’s a bunch of us—people who you’ve helped over the years. Avery doesn’t know, actually. She thinks it’s just open mic night, but we all signed up for the slots under different names. I guess it’s sort of a tribute thing. Everyone I called wanted in, and then people called more people, and then it just became a thing.”
I lie back and put my hands under my neck, looking up in the branches of Ray’s tree at the birds I just fed. They’re fighting over my crumb, and it makes me feel bad, so I throw them the rest of my donut.
“I’m thinking about doing something crazy,” I say, and I hold silent now for a while, almost like I’m expecting to really hear his voice. The longer I lay there, the less crazy my idea sounds, and I get a funny thought in my head. “I know you know what I’m thinking. You were always two steps ahead of me, so maybe you can just let me know if I’m being stupid on top of crazy. Anything—a sign, or whatever the hell people call it. Just let me know old man.”
I smile in anticipation, and I prop myself up on my elbows, scanning the empty cemetery around me, just waiting for something to happen. The birds continue to pick at my donut, but that’s about the only activity that happens for the next ten minutes, so I decide to give up on my little experiment. I pick up my empty cups and bag, brushing the grass from the back of my jeans when I stand.
“Okay, maybe you’re right—crazy and stupid,” I say, shaking my head with a little laugh. “I guess I’ll see ya tomorrow.”
Once back inside my car, I pull out my phone to check for any messages from Claire or Avery. Seems my handyman services aren’t needed today, and I feel a little sad about it. I drive by Dusty’s to see if anyone’s there yet, but the lot is still empty. I see the Open Mic Night announcement written on the marquee though. I changed the bulbs out last week, one of those nagging things I wished I had done when Ray was still alive.