Trashed and Scattered

“She isn’t home,” Lexi assured him knowingly as they lingered by the front door.
He smiled, “Okay, good. I hate running into her.”
“Me too,” Lexi noted, swinging the door wide open and slumping her backpack onto the floor.
Wiley dumped his stuff next to hers and clapped his hands together excitedly.
“So, where is it?”
Lexi grabbed at his wrist, pulling him through to the back of the house and down the rickety old steps into the basement. It was mostly unfinished, studs still visible to the naked eye. But her father had built up a room to the side where all of his many instruments were housed. It was Lexi’s favourite room in the house; the one place that her mother never dared to follow her into.
She flicked on the light at the bottom of the stairs, illuminating the mostly untouched space. They breezed past the endless amounts of boxes, each more covered in dust and cobwebs than the last, and stepped into Dan’s sanctuary.
Although Wiley had been in that room several times over, the collection never ceased to impress him. The man collected pristine guitars and had an astounding collection of rock memorabilia. Perched at the very back of it all was a beautiful, nearly untouched brand new red drum kit.
Wiley’s eyes lit up at the sight of it. He’d recently acquired his very own set, but his parents hadn’t exactly thrown caution to the wind when considering price. This kit was far more extensive than his and it glimmered with brilliance in the dim bulb light.
“Pretty nice, huh?” Lexi smirked.
Wiley nodded, “I’m afraid to touch it.”
“You’re so weird,” she giggled, hastily scurrying around to the back and collapsing onto the leather stool.
She pulled a pair of sticks from the bin behind her and immediately began to thrash around. Her father had spent the past three years using the mechanics of a drum kit to teach discipline. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually learned anything about discipline but she’d certainly learned to keep a beat.
Wiley watched her with heavy intent, jealous of the way she could mold herself into any environment. He was sure there was nothing on this earth that Lexi couldn’t do. She laughed, meeting his gaze as she broke into her favourite Metallica tune.
“You’re nuts!” he shrieked over her incessant banging.
She pulled herself to a hasty stop, snapping the sticks together happily. Letting herself enjoy the moment for just a second longer, she hopped off the stool and passed the sticks to her friend.
“You’re sure your dad won’t be mad?” he asked suspiciously.
She scoffed, “This is what drums are for, Wiley. Don’t be such a scaredy cat.”
It wasn’t that he feared getting into trouble, or actually making Dan angry…He was reluctant, though, to get Lexi into any sort of trouble. Her very existence was often enough to drag her down into the depths of the devil, and he was hardly eager to assist in her descent.
But with her approval, he bounded over to the kit and thrashed harder and louder than Lexi ever could. She grinned as she watched him slip away. He was someone else when he was seated behind a kit, something she’d learned very quickly after his lessons had started. He would cease his outlandishness and adjust his focus. And then he would play.
The world would fade out around him and he’d just play.
For Lexi, it was discipline; for Wiley, it was release.
“We should start a band,” Wiley suggested cutely, taking a pause from his beat to revel in the beauty of the kit.
“Yeah,” she replied sarcastically. “Totally.”
He snickered, “Why not? You can play the guitar or something.”
“I would never play the guitar in a band,” she informed him. “I’d drum.”
“But I’m going to be the drummer,” he informed her right back. “Sorry, Lex. You’re out of the band. I don’t need anyone stealing my thunder.”
She rolled her eyes, “I’m so sad that you feel like that.”
He laughed, indulging in the kick drum for a few more minutes before reaching his fill. Heaving a disappointed sigh, he placed the sticks back into the bin and joined his friend’s side to gaze upon the red drums.
“Your dad’s so cool,” Wiley noted aloud.
She nodded, “Yeah, sometimes.”
“At least he lets you play,” Wiley assured her. “He isn’t all bad.”
“No,” she agreed feebly. “I guess not…I guess he’s okay.”
“You’d go live with him, right?” he blurted out, earning a scowl from Lexi. “If he ever, like, left…You’d go with him?”
She laughed snidely, “Well I definitely wouldn’t stay with my mom.”
“Right,” he nodded to himself. “I guess that makes sense…”
“Don’t worry, Wiley,” she smiled. “He won’t leave…I’ll be here forever.”
At the time, she thought it to be true. After eleven years of her life, her mother still hadn’t changed…and neither had her dad. He’d turned the corner as her mother beat her fists into Lexi’s face—and he’d fallen deaf as his wife screamed insane ramblings at their daughter. If he hadn’t intervened yet, Lexi was sure he never would.
She’d be left to rot between those walls until she was old enough to pack her own bags.
“When we’re sixteen,” Wiley thought aloud. “Let’s run away.”
She laughed softly, “Why sixteen?”
“Because we can drive then,” he told her like it should have been obvious. “It’s easier to run away in a car than on foot, Lexi.”
“Where would we go?” she asked curiously.
“Anywhere we wanted,” he grinned deviously. “We could go to England, if you want. I know you like the castles and stuff.”
She raised an eyebrow, “We can’t drive to England, Wiley. Do I need to buy you a globe for your birthday?”
He laughed, shoving at her lightly, “You know what I mean, you idiot.”
Lexi was obsessed with the castles in England—she didn’t care what it had been erected for, she just knew she wanted to see it. She wanted to feel cobblestone beneath her feet and run her hands along the walls of something hundreds of years old. She wanted to close her eyes and listen to the ancient echoing of the halls, once filled with servants and nobles alike. The whole concept thrilled her and it was all she wanted…just to see a castle.
“Okay, Wiley,” she smirked. “When we’re sixteen, we can run away to England.”
“It’s a date,” he winked lazily.
She pulled at his arm to lead him back through the basement and up the stairs. They creaked and croaked like frogs in a bayou as they climbed up to the kitchen. Given that she knew her house made Wiley uncomfortable, she suggested that they play outside until he had to head home for dinner.
They hardly played; they opted, instead, to hide out in her playhouse and lay on the floor in talks about their future life together.
“We could get jobs cleaning a castle or something,” Wiley announced as it were a stroke of pure brilliance.
“Yeah! Then we could be there every day!”
He nodded happily.
“But which one?” she asked seriously. “There are so many.”
“Which one is your favourite?” he asked her, equal in seriousness.
She considered this briefly, running through the list she kept in her mind.
“Hampton Court,” she decided finally. “Though, I don’t know if it’s really a castle…It’s pretty big…So, I guess it is. I don’t know. But that’s where I want to go.”
Though he had no idea what she was talking about, what Hampton Court was, or where he could find it, he agreed with excited willingness.
“Better idea!” he announced then. “We’ll start a band! We’ll get super, crazy famous and then we’ll tour the world! We could go tour in England, I bet. Then we could see all the castles!”
She laughed, shaking her head against the dirty wooden floor, “I’m not starting a band with you!”
“Why not?” he whined.
“Because I’m too good to play in your band,” she replied with faulty arrogance.
He gasped, “Peyton!”
“Don’t you first name me, Jimmy!”
“Technically that isn’t my name,” he noted with a shit-eating grin etched into his young face.
“James,” she corrected quickly.
“You’re being crazy,” he informed her. “You deserved to be Peyton-ed.”
She just laughed.
“Too good for me,” he muttered in disbelief.
She smiled over at him, admiring the glossy blue his eyes had adorned for the day, “Keep practicing and maybe we’ll talk.”
“You shit,” he snickered, jumping up to lunge at her.
Despite her struggles and kicks, he pulled her into his arms and ran his fingers like heavy spiders across her ribs. She giggled and screamed and writhed to get away. His long arms held her in place, refusing mercy until she conceded that he was “the master of everything”.
“Fine, fine,” she finally heaved. “You’re the master of everything!”
He smiled smugly, “I know.”
Neither mentioned aloud that she was still wrapped up in his arms, both quietly and ashamedly enjoying the confinement. But the moment passed quickly, and Wiley practically threw her from his body.
“Gross,” he laughed pointedly. “You got your cooties all over me.”
She giggled, “You started it.”
“And finished it, too,” he noted happily. “Because you agreed to start a band and go on tour.”
“When?” she challenged.
He grinned, “When you said I was the master of everything. Everything includes you, Lex. So…As your master, I declare—”
She shoved a hand over his open mouth as her ears strained to listen. The distinct sound of her mother’s voice screeching her name cut through all of the elated ambience. Lexi looked to Jimmy for empathy, which he offered to her in spades.
“I wonder what I did now…” Lexi mumbled quietly, wishing she could disappear.
Wiley frowned, “You could come to my house for dinner.”
“Peyton!” the banshee’s voice sounded off again.
“That doesn’t sound like someone that’s going to let me go for dinner,” Lexi noted shamefully. “I should go in…”
“Okay,” Wiley conceded reluctantly.
“Just five more years, right?” she asked half-heartedly, scooping herself up from the floor and headed for the little wooden door.
“Hey, Lex,” Wiley thought aloud. “Maybe I’ll start a band…and I’ll get super, crazy famous…and then we’ll tour England.”
She smiled softly, “Maybe…If you keep practicing.”
His jaw fell to the floor as she cackled.
“I told you,” she grinned. “You’re not good enough for a band!”
“That’s not what you said!” he argued passed his shock. “You’re just being mean now!”
She giggled, relieving herself of the impending tension for a few more seconds, “You can do anything, Wiley. You know I think that. Just don’t forget about me when you’re super, crazy famous.”
“The little people?” he smirked. “Never.”
“Peyton!”
With a roll of her eyes and a sad, sheepish wave, Lexi left.
Wiley lingered around for a while longer, adhering to their code of conduct. They tried hard not to be spotted together by the witch; the last time Wiley had emerged from Lexi’s bedroom with her, the witch nearly blew a gasket.
He played with his fingers and imagined his future as a famous rock star. He imagined what Lexi would look like every night as he played with his band of faceless mates.
It didn’t have to be music, he supposed. He just needed something to work toward; something that would get Lexi out of this place and into something else…Somewhere with him.
With that in mind, he finally emerged from the playhouse and hopped the wooden fence back to his own property line.
And then he went in to get practicing.

Notes

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