Hydraulic Level Five (1) (30 page)

A web of stars grew stark and bright against the black sky. They were so clear, up in the mountains, in the crisp air. Pine leaves rustled. Crickets began their nightly chorus. I kind of missed the little guys at home.

Hector skewered several marshmallows and sat down next to me, holding them over the flames. I rested my head on his shoulder. I could enjoy this for years to come—having all of my loved ones together, basking in each other’s presence. For a while, I was even able to forget Caroline was next to Samuel, pressed against him, stealing his warmth in the cool air.

Once the fire fully crackled, Angel and Danita slipped away for a bit of alone time. When they returned, I was surprised to see them holding Samuel’s old Gibson guitars—the Spanish and acoustic. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Dani’s mouth twisted in mischief.

“Now, Kaye, I know you’re going to argue, but just remember that this is
my
bachelorette party. And since you didn’t get me a stripper, you owe me.” Dani pouted and handed me a guitar. Angel did the same (minus the pouting), handing a wary Samuel the other Gibson.

“You…you want us to play?”

Danita rolled her eyes. “No, Kaye, I want you to strip with a guitar. I’ve got a stack of dollar bills with your name on them.”

Samuel lifted a questioning eyebrow at me.

I shrugged and began to strum the guitar, twisting the pegs until it was in tune. Leaving the blanket to Caroline, Samuel crossed the campfire circle and stood in front of Hector, waiting for him to move. But Hector just stared at him, not even twitching a knee cap. Finally, Samuel dropped onto the ground next to my feet and tuned his guitar.

What the heck was that?

I knew Samuel’s animosity toward Hector started a long time ago, when I’d spent Saturday afternoons skiing with Hector and our dads instead of lazing about with him. Hector had actually been my first date ever, not Samuel, which upped their animosity. And of course, Hector still wanted to pulverize Samuel for leaving me to move to New York.

“Any requests?”

Molly clapped her hands. “
Ruby Tuesday
. I know you guys remember that one.”

“Mine first.” Danita smugly tucked herself under Angel’s massive arm, pleased at how easily we’d folded. “I happen to have a very special request.”
Of course you do, sneaky Danita.
“You know what I want to hear, Kaye-bear, Sam.”

I’m pretty sure my face went white as blood drained from my freckled cheeks. “No. Oh no, Dani. My Spanish is really rusty.”

“Your Spanish is better than mine. Come on, you know it’s my favorite. This is for Angel and me. We’re getting married.”

You have got to be kidding me. First the baseball championship, now the guitars?
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought my friends were conspiring to send me off the deep end. I looked to Samuel for help.

He merely shrugged. “It’s just a song, Kaye. You know, for fun?”

“Now I really want to hear whatever it is you don’t want to sing.” Hector grinned.

“Shut it, Hector.” I tried a new tactic. “Let’s do our acoustic version of
Matador
. That’s a good one.”

Molly groaned. “You guys just sing the song, already! It was the last song of Soda Stereo’s farewell concert—if they could do it, so can you.”

Cassady whispered something in Molly’s ear, and she whispered back. He nodded. “Just think of it like this, Kaye.
De Música Ligera
was a defining recording of Latin Rock. It’s not just a song, it’s a piece of history.”

“And we’re all about defining moments in history,” Angel added.

Samuel offered me a speculative smile. “It’s pure musical poetry, Kaye. The pain of farewell, the shackles of
amor
.”

“You people are pushier than a turnstile, you know that?” I was beat. My forehead fell over my guitar with a thump. “Fine. Danita, Angel—this is for you, so you both better sing loud and clear. Play it again, Sam.”

His beautiful smile grew bigger as he started us off. The first stanza was awkward, like I’d expected. Jamming with Samuel again, especially to a song which encapsulated an innocent era for both of us, was difficult. But then my gaze drifted to Danita. Her eyes were bright as she watched Angel. Her face was rife with love as she swayed with him to the flourishes of Samuel’s Spanish guitar. He laughed down at her, tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear. I put all of my anxieties and heartaches aside and simply focused on both of them, sharing their happiness. I was glad—no, ecstatic—they got their fairy tale.

Samuel nudged my calf with his elbow, reminding me about our added key change. I nudged him back with my foot; of course I remembered the key change. He chuckled his way into the next stanza.

Once the song ended and everyone belted “
Gracias totales
,” we dove into Molly’s request. Then we strummed through everything our fingers could handle. We even played around with a couple of The Twiggies’ songs, something we’d never tackled together.

Guitar sing-alongs on our camping trips underscored the melding ethoses in our circle of friends. Holidays, mealtimes, weddings, and funerals carried the more obvious differences. The Mexican-Americans peppered their words with colorful Spanish interjections learned from their parents and neighborhood children. Then there were the songs we grew up singing in car rides and before bedtime. It was only logical that the vast amounts of time we spent in each other’s company gave rise to the oddest, mish-mashed cultural stew—music playlists included.

All the while, Caroline’s eyes burned holes into my guitar neck. It didn’t unnerve me. I was comfortable here, with a guitar in my hands, next to Samuel, surrounded by our friends, and there was nothing she could do or say to take me out of my element.

“Oh! Did I mention that Samuel’s taking me to Rocky Mountain Folks this year?”

And…there goes my confidence.
I strummed a chord, its somber, disjointed tone hanging in the air as everyone fell silent along with it.

“Nothing’s set in stone, Caro,” Samuel said quietly. I knew that voice. He was pissed. He shuffled his guitar, standing up. “And August is a long way off.”

“It’s only two months, actually.” Poor Santiago was a little behind. “When you think about it, that’s not really a long time.”

Don’t cry…don’t cry…
Every muscle in my face tightened to keep those tears from welling, and I was grateful for the cloak of night. Molly slapped her knees and hopped up to diffuse the tension.

“Okay, girlies! I think it’s bachelorette time! Kiss the boys goodnight, brush those teeth, and be in the VW in ten minutes!”

“’Night, Hector.” I stood on tip-toes to peck his cheek. “Lay off the poker and cigars.”

“You too. You can’t bluff to save your life.” He pulled me into a bear hug, whispered. “Don’t let Cabral and his woman trip you up, ’kay
mamacita?
Just enjoy the night.” He left to help Cassady smother what was left of the campfire.

“Kaye.” Samuel touched my arm.

I stepped away from him, stuffing the Gibson back in its case and shoving my arms through my fleece.

“Please talk to me.”

I gave him a wide berth as I picked up the leftover marshmallows and angrily grabbed my blanket.

“Oh, so now you’re giving me the silent treatment?” he snapped, irritation evident.

I shot him a fierce warning glare. “It’s none of my business where you take your girlfriend, Samuel. In fact, I think I’m the one who suggested you show her Planet Bluegrass, in the first place. Just go to bed.”

“Fine. Goodnight, Kaye.” He backed off, running aggravated hands through his hair. Stalking over to the tent, he grabbed a towel from his duffel bag and made his way into the woods, toward the creek. I watched with jealous eyes as Caroline followed.

Danita tugged on my arm, pulling me away before I could run after them. “Come on, Samuel’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”

“I know.” I peered at Danita’s concerned expression and guilt crept in.
Geez, Kaye, could you be a worse maid of honor?
I sucked it up and slathered on the biggest grin my face would allow. “Anyway, this night isn’t about them. It’s about you, my knock-out hot friend who is getting married to the sexiest pilot this side of the Rockies.” I climbed into the Campervan, Danita following behind. “And right now, we are going to give you the best, and only, semi-bachelorette party of your life.”

“Come on, Kaye! Just do one more.”

“Molly, no. I’ve had two already and so help me, I am staying as sober as possible.”

She pouted and poured another round of raspberry liqueur and Bailey’s. Sweet heaven, those things were tasty, but I held my ground. With Samuel just yards away on the other side of the campground, I was not going to risk another drunken email-type incident on a much grander, in-person scale.

“Hit me, baby.” Danita held out her glass. She, on the other hand, imbibed as much as possible. We’d already opened naughty lingerie, played a couple of obligatory penis games, and moved on to spilling our guts (or getting Danita to spill, anyway) about our love lives. She adjusted the red lace bra she wore on the outside of her pajamas.

I patted her cheek. “You are going to be such a sexy, beautiful bride.”

“Damn straight!” Molly raised her shot glass. “Here’s to scoring the second hottest man to ever come from Lyons.”

Danita frowned. “Wait, who’s number one?”

“Sorry, Danita. Your brother’s Mr. January on the Lyons Hotties calendar.”

Dang. I’d nearly stopped dwelling on the fact that Caroline was still outside, in the dark, with Samuel.

An hour later, Caroline clattered through the door, her face stony. The rest of us exchanged cagey looks. Muttering a hello, she grabbed her bag and headed to the back of the van to get ready for bed. I ignored her and passed the snack mix bowl to Danita. Eventually, the Afghan hound emerged, sleek in green satin pajamas, and tentatively curled onto the bench next to Molly. Molly gave her a friendly little smile and handed her a shot. She declined, her cool mask firmly in place.

I wondered if Samuel had asked her to get to know his sister better, and was certain she’d put a damper on the night. But before long, even Caro quietly laughed as each of us took turns swapping stories about Danita and Angel’s long, tumultuous, entertaining romance. The many years Angel spent firmly entrenched in Dani’s friend corner. The high school boyfriend Dani had who perpetually smelled like peanut butter. And finally, Angel taking electric hedge clippers to his car, just so he could ask Dani to weld it. She’d invited him to Sunday dinner after that.

A couple of times during the night, Angel’s or Hector’s face popped up in the window, followed by faint scuffling. Then, five minutes later, scratching sounds moved along the outside of the VW, as if a pack of raccoons scaled its retro trim. Santiago’s pasty cheeks (the other cheeks) even made a one-night-only appearance, but the act was cut short when Cassady bellowed, “You gunnars better get offa Betty and make as scarce as rocking horse shit!”

After that, it was quiet.

Once the boys retreated, the energy was zapped from the small camper. We toppled over, one by one. Danita was the first out, still in the red bra. Then Caroline crawled into the back of the Campervan and drew the beaded curtain, leaving just Molly and me. After another fifteen minutes of soft chatting, we curled into our sleeping bags, her head resting on my feet.

I closed my eyes, but did not sleep. Rather, I lay awake, hands behind my head. I listened to the distant bubbling of the creek. Cicadas and crickets. And the quiet, pensive strumming of a Spanish guitar.

It was eight in the morning when I stumbled out of Betty with bleary eyes and aching joints, my hair a blond haystack. Samuel and Caroline were the only two awake, the others dead to the world and probably would be for another hour. Grabbing my toothbrush, washcloth, and water bottle, I snuck around the back of the Campervan and cleaned as best as I could. Smoothing my hair into a haphazard bun, I unfolded a lawn chair across from the pair.

My anger had abated after a good night’s sleep, and I couldn’t help but think that both of us had been overly sensitive because of the late hour. I sought Samuel’s gaze, shooting him an apologetic look.