Chapter Ten
Jesse Young
Song: Fox On the Run—Sweet
After dropping off my book into the return slot at the library, I sat beside Darren on the wooden picnic table under the gazebo. I held Fawn's leash tightly around my wrist. She was lying on the turf, staring at us.
There was tension in the air, and nothing could help us because our relationship had changed, and I would probably have to leave Moose Creek in less than a week.
I tried to think of all the different ways to start a conversation about what happened.
My brain remained empty, and my mouth couldn’t form any new words.
Fawn stirred like someone was behind us.
Before I could whip my head around, hands covered my eyes, and a squeaky girl’s voice said, “Surprise!”
Betsy removed her hands, and my eyes adjusted to the light. Betsy stood before me. She was tall and had auburn pin-straight hair cut to her chin.
Following close behind her was Thomas. Thomas looked like he could be one of the Beach Boys. Most boys grow out of their blond hair after puberty, but Thomas was still blond as ever.
They sat on the opposite side of the table from us.
I was relieved by their presence. Every previous summer, they were there to even out the playing field. Instead of a duo, we were a group.
"Thomas and I decided to come home from camp for the week to visit you! Zach stayed at camp. He told me to tell you to party on,” Betsy said.
“So, how is it going steady?” I asked.
Thomas started to speak, and Betsy shook her head at him. “We have been amazing. I like being with Thomas,” she said with a smirk.
We chatted about how they got together, and my stomach felt like a spinning record.
According to Betsy, Thomas helped her build a birdhouse at camp, and while they glued the sides together, their hands touched, forming a deep and sensual bond.
I prayed to any God that would listen that we would not talk about Darren and me.
I was not ready to figure everything out, let alone gloat about it.
“I am sorry for missing your birthday, Penny. I wanted to come back yesterday. I begged for a ride from everyone I knew when my stupid parents wouldn’t come and get me.
I did get you a little something to make up for it, though,” Betsy said, squealing.
She motioned for Thomas to take the present out of his pocket.
He pulled out a sharp-edged box that resembled a deck of cards.
“Thomas told me that Darren told him he got you a portable 8-track... And I know Elvis is your guilty pleasure, so I got you an 8-track of his best hits! Sorry, I couldn’t wrap it up for you,” Betsy explained.
“I hope you like it. I helped Betsy pick it out on our way back from camp,” Thomas said, placing the track into the palm of my hand.
I thanked Betsy properly, with our best friend handshake we made when we were younger.
Whenever I stayed the night at Betsy's house, we had the routine of painting our toenails while watching Elvis’ various appearances on television and gawking over his black hair, deep voice, and our attraction to him.
When he was in his prime, he was a heartthrob.
After a while, he struggled with health problems, and his music died out as bands like the Beatles overtook his throne.
I loved the new bands and era of rock n’ roll, but I admired the musicians who paved the way for them, and Elvis did that.
Rosetta Tharpe and Chuck Berry inspired Elvis.
Music is a cycle of inspiration and adaptation.
“Elvis? Really, Copper?” Darren asked with a smug tight lip.
“Yes. Elvis is an important man,” I said, secure in my beliefs. I was happy to admit my love for Elvis if it meant I didn’t have to tell the group about the kiss Darren and I shared the night before.
A shiny silver bullet rolled across the street.
It was a brand-new airstream. Everyone stopped talking to look at it.
It was gorgeous and had to cost a fortune.
No one with that much money would be caught dead in Moose Creek.
Moose Creek was a tourist town for people who could not afford a fancier getaway.
The door of the airstream flew open. A man walked out smoking a cigarette.
He had a brown shag-like mullet, tattoos all over his arms, a mustache, flare jeans, and a tight shirt with a deep V-neck.
My jaw dropped.
Darren grabbed my hand under the table and pinched the skin on my thumb.
The man was Jesse Young, the lead singer of Jesse Young and The Matches.
“Darren, pinch me again. This cannot be real.”
“Pinch me because I think we all are having the same hallucination,” he gasped.
Jesse Young paced back and forth while he inhaled his cigarette. He looked stressed.
We frantically planned to walk by him and see what he was doing. We got up and pretended to stroll by his airstream. I maintained a casual composure as my heart thrashed out of my chest. When we got closer to him, Fawn yanked on her leash, causing his eyes to land on us.
“Do you folks know of a place where I can park my airstream? I am in need of a campground,” Jesse said, looking around him. “I also have no idea where we are.”
We were all too scared to say anything.
Darren stepped up. “Hey, man, there are many free camping spots around the creek. I can show you if you want.”
Ordinary people would not agree to go to a secluded place with a bunch of strangers, but Jesse Young was not ordinary.
He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out with his boot heel.
“Well, we have some room in the stream for you guys. Hop in, and my manager will follow your directions.”
We did not have to talk to each other to know we would get in without hesitation. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We would deal with the consequences later. Hanging out with a rock star was precisely the sort of memory I wanted to make.
The airstream’s interior was all wood, with a bright orange breakfast booth and chairs.
A woman who looked to be in her late twenties was lying on the bed in the back, laughing at nothing.
Jesse ordered us to sit down and make ourselves at home.
Fawn sniffed everything in the new place with her wet nose. I slid into the breakfast booth with Darren. He laced his fingers into mine, and I did not jerk back. I knew I hadn’t told the group what had happened yet and would have to soon. My time was running out.
Betsy goggled her eyes at me, questioning my actions. As an alternative to my normal response of panic, I accepted the unknown. If Jesse Young was here, it had to be a good sign.
Jesse yelled for his manager to come in.
A skinny man with a long gray beard and straggly hair opened the door. “What do you want, Jesse?” the peculiar man asked.
Jesse said, “Ron! Meet my new friends. They are going to guide us to a camping spot! This is uh...”
“I am Penelope, but you can call me Penny. This is my uh ... friend, Darren. The redhead is Betsy, and her boyfriend is Thomas.”
“Well, there you go! You can't say we are strangers now,” Jesse said with a laugh. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
Darren explained to Ronny how to get to one of the campsites around the creek.
It was private enough for Jesse not to be spotted.
“Thanks. This town is a great place for Jesse to blow off steam. As long as you guys keep your mouth closed about his whereabouts, he will be safe,” Ronny said like he was attempting to convince himself more than anything.
“Do you guys all live in this tiny peach town?” Jesse asked.
“Everyone except Penny. She comes in the summer with her family,” Darren said.
“This town has charm, that’s for sure, but it is just a getaway. Living here would be too quiet for me,” Jesse remarked.
“Sir, I'm trying to stay cool. We know who you are. I cannot lie to one of my idols,” Darren admitted.
“Ah, that’s too bad. Sometimes it’s nice to be a nobody. At least you have good taste. If you dig music, we live for the same reason. People who live for music are different.”
“I, for one, don't know much about you, Jesse. I listen to pop more than rock. Darren and Penny love rock, though. They obsess over your songs all the time,” Betsy said.
Thomas gave her a side look. He understood subtlety, even when Betsy did not.
“Darren loves the drums on your tracks. He plays pretty well when he practices,” Thomas added.
“Really? Drummers can be great, but sometimes they can get on your nerves. Keith, our drummer for the Matches, was great until he got an ego. The asshole thinks he deserves more. Ron, he gets me. He told me to pack up my stuff and come here so I could think. Do you ever just need to get away to think?”
“I do all the time. I am the oldest of seven siblings, and my dad’s a preacher. The chaos keeps me alive. Penny taught me how to live in the quiet, though,” Darren revealed.
“I don’t talk much about my personal life to the magazines or the fans. I will give you the inside scoop, since you are helping me out. My old man was a hard ass, too, so I can relate.”
Betsy and Thomas started talking to each other in muffled, flirtatious voices.
Jesse motioned toward them. “New lovers?”
We nodded. “I got one, too. I picked her up before we left the city.” He hollered, “Hey, Sweet thang in the back. Come on out here and meet my new friends!”
The woman stumbled down the hallway onto Jesse’s lap. She had darker skin, black curly hair, and bright green eyes. “Hello, beautiful babies. It’s nice to meet you. I am glad Jesse invited you to camp with us. The more the merrier,” she said, kissing him passionately.
The airstream stopped with a screech.
I pulled back the curtain and saw the familiar campsite. Darren had directed them to the spot where James and I liked to go fishing and where I had met my friends all those years ago. It had a fire pit, two picnic tables, an outside grill, and a small dock to swim or fish from.
Jesse jumped up and kicked the door open. He drank a generous amount of air and said, “This is a superb location to plant our roots! Thank you, Darry! You folks have to stay here for a while. Ron! Start a campfire.”