The Rockstar Chronicles

War

Sometimes living in a family like mine, life becomes one big game of war, with careful plotting and precise battles to aid your position. I had spoken too soon, given up too much ground early in my offense. I lost the battle with Mom, but I believed victory may yet be mine. I prepared for one last hurrah, my final skirmish.

I waited till late afternoon, biding my time. The sun slanted through my bedroom window, leaving orange rectangles on my paisley comforter. I picked at the seam restlessly. I was antsy. I just couldn't settle down.

All morning I had listened from my room as Mom called her friends. She was careful not to reveal too much, just enough to pique their jealousy. Every word she spoke made me more and more certain I couldn't allow myself to be dragged along. Finally, she left the house, calling out that she was going to pick up something for supper.

Now's my chance, I thought. I crept out my room and down the hall to the small room my mother had converted into her office. I slid the panel door open, chewing on my bottom lip nervously. It was my own home, so why did it feel like breaking and entering?

Papers were stacked in orderly fashion over the surface of the huge u-shaped desk. I checked one of the calendars on the wall. Just like usual, Dad's calender was completed neatly.

Mom definitely needs to get help for this, I thought as I surveyed the scene before me. Most families have one calendar. Mine has five. One for each of us and one master calendar.

Mom's calendar was filled with her daily to-do lists, deadlines, meetings, and everything else she could possibly categorize and prioritize. All of it was family business. Grady's calendar was chock full of everything from doctors appointments to sports practice and games to his numerous lessons and auditions. I studied the coming weeks, wondering how much of it would be cleared to make room for this new area of his life. It made me sad to think of life's eraser descending upon his calendar, wiping it clean and rescheduling it.

Dad's calendar was mainly work related. He was an engineer. It paid well, very well, but he had to be available to travel for weeks at a time and at a moment's notice to keep his machines up and running. Mom was his perfect secretary, planning his trips down to the last detail and then changing everything when emergencies came up. Penciled neatly under yesterdays date was Dad's last minute plans, hotel room, if he would have cell phone reception (he did) and an alternate phone number if he would not. The projected return date slot was empty, awaiting word from him. I read Mom's note in her careful handwriting, Delay Jackson project if after the 14th.

The family calendar was the craziest of them all, every inch utilized to the utmost extent of its capabilities. Like some sort of sick joke, mine was next to it.

And as usual, mine was the whitest calendar up there. Most days were empty, besides the afternoon lessons I was still required to take. My fingers itched to make a note under today's date. Maybe Thwart my mother's diabolical plans or Live life on my terms? I wondered what she would say if she saw it.

My heart raced as I lifted the phone receiver and I checked over my shoulder reflexively, sure that I had heard something. I held my breath, but nope, the doorway was clear. I punched in Dad's number with shaky fingers, crossing them for luck as I pressed the last digit.

I could barely breath, my heart pounding louder and louder. I squeezed my eyes shut, taking deep breaths through my nose, attempting to calm myself. This is it, I thought. This is my last chance. Each ring seemed to last for an eternity.

"Hello?" Dad answered the phone. His voice was light, but I could sense the undercurrent of stress. Oh, no.

"Hey. Dad?" My voice was shaky, cracking. I swallowed.

"Yes?" Dad asked.

"Is... is everything going well?"

A loud sigh issued over the phone. "Not great. I can't get this machine to run and the whole place is down until I do."

"Oh." My heart sank. It wasn't looking good.

"Lindy? Did you need something?"

I hesitated, unsure of whether I should ask him now or wait. I knew it would probably be better to wait until he was less tense, less stressed. Till he could pay full attention to my argument and respond accordingly. But I couldn't go on in the nervous state I was in and I blurted it out.

"It's just... Dad, did Mom tell you about the whole Grady thing?"

"Yep, she did. Isn't it great news?" He didn't sound like he thought it was great news. A spark of hope reignited in my chest, lit anew by his response.

"Yeah, great. Listen, can't I just stay here? I don't want to go with them, Dad."

The line was silent. I blabbered on, trying to fit every argument I could into the empty space.

"I need to stay in school. Besides, how healthy would it be for me to be traveling with a boy band? I mean, right? I wouldn't be any trouble and I could keep the house clean and maybe even learn to schedule like Mom. It could be me and you." I eyed the series of charts, schedules, and calendars warily. I hoped I hadn't spoken too soon.

"Lindy...," Dad said, but I interrupted him.

"Dad. I can't. I can't go with them. I can't do this. Please, please let me stay here. Please." My eyes welled with tears again as I begged.

"Lindy," Dad sighed. "It just won't work. I'm sorry, but you need to go. I can't be at home. In fact, with all these projects I'm going to be away more than ever. It seems serendipitous. Do you know what that means?"

I nodded my head, even though I didn't. It didn't matter. He couldn't see me anyway and I couldn't trust myself to speak.

"I think if you give it a chance, you'll enjoy it. You could learn a lot and your mom's right. You'll get to spend lots more time together. I know. I know it's hard, but sometimes things that seem scary or hard turn out to be the most rewarding."

"But... what about you? Who's going to take care of you and the house?"

"I'll be there, too. We're... well, Lindy, we're going to sell or rent the house. That way, when I'm not traveling for work, I can be with you three. Don't you think it would be best? If we stay one family unit instead of two separate ones."

I sank down to the floor, holding onto the receiver for dear life. Things were worse than I thought. The house was my anchor. Without it, I would feel completely adrift.

"You could quit," I said, my voice thick. "You could quit. Grady will be making enough, right?"

Dad laughed. "Well, yes, I suppose he might, but you never know how these things will work out. In all likelihood, it'll fall through and we'll end up right back at home like you want. Besides, it would be Grady's money, not ours."

I couldn't function at all. I couldn't move or think. Everything was changing too fast.

"Pumpkin?" Dad asked. "Pumpkin, just remember, things usually work out for the best. Have faith." I heard someone speaking in the background and then Dad came back on the line. "Listen, Lindy, I've got to go. I love you and I'll talk to you later. Bye, sweetheart."

The line went dead, but I stayed frozen in position, listening to the hum on the other end. Mom had outmaneuvered me. All I had left was surrender, willing or not.

Things usually work out for the best, he had said.

Not for me they don't, I thought.

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