Chapter Seventeen
Pitiful Peaches
Song: Dance with Me—Orleans
Jesse ran to the airstream to get paper and a pen. When he returned, he had me write the lyrics in his notebook.
Darren wanted me to write it because his handwriting was ineligible.
Even though he wanted me to, I was worried the band would associate me with the song and not Darren.
Jesse let me sing it by myself for the first time so he would understand how the tune sounded. It was difficult to get started and sing the first word. My voice quivered a lot as I sang.
Jesse simply nodded along, memorizing the words.
The second time, Darren played the drums while Keith watched him. My high-pitched, uneasy voice and Jesse’s gravel voice sounded good. Our voices were so different that they complimented each other.
Keith was admiring Darren’s drum solo. The sheet music, combined with Darren’s creativity, was less than forty seconds long, but it had something to it. It could be a catchy commercial song or jingle for selling peaches.
Jesse saw something else for its future. He started pacing while chewing on the end of the pen he held in his hand. He mumbled the lyrics under his breath like he was analyzing a poem in English class.
“What is he doing?” I whispered to Keith.
“It looks like you all are lucky. You got to see the real Jesse Young, and now you get to see how he writes songs.”
Darren and I watched as he started scribbling and crossing out words.
“This might take a while,” Tonya admitted as she lay on the wet grass, pulling her skirt down before it peaked up.
“How long is it going to take?” Betsy probed.
“I don’t know. Depends on how inspired he gets,” Mason said.
Jesse had a fascinating writing process.
He would walk back and forth, humming the tune repeatedly, adding lines when he came up with something.
I couldn’t imagine what he was adding to Darren’s song and how he would feel about it.
I motioned for Darren to sit in the grass with me again.
“What do you think he’s doing to your song? ”
“I don’t care what he does with it, Copper. Jesse Young likes my song. That’s enough for me.”
I nodded, understanding how he felt. Singing with Jesse was the single most exciting thing I had done other than going to a concert with James.
Being around someone who could explode any second was riveting.
Jesse could make anyone feel special if he wanted to.
The Matches, Thomas, Betsy, Darren, and I lay on the turf waiting to be called upon.
“Is this the way he has always made songs?” Darren asked.
“No. The first album we made together was when he valued other people’s opinions. It didn’t sell many copies, though. Not a lot of people even know about it,” Keith confessed.
“Dive in was the first record I purchased for myself,” I said, revisiting a memory of James.
“No way. That album only sold two hundred copies. We didn’t even make back the money it took from ruining our instruments in the pool. Why we thought it was a good idea to throw them in, I don’t know,” Mason said.
“I am not kidding. I bought that record with my tooth fairy money.”
Tonya laughed. “That is the Bee’s Knees. I can’t believe you did that. You must be really young then.”
Everyone laughed and started pointing out the different constellations in the sky.
It took me a minute to locate the big and little dipper.
We joked about how aliens would abduct us, and no one would know where we went.
I pretended I feared the green creatures to curl up with Darren.
He wrapped his arm around me, and I played with the fabric of his shirt.
Everything had happened so fast, but it was finally time for us to be peaceful.
My mind filled up with questions. Were my mom and James worried about where I was?
Should I tell Darren I would be his girlfriend?
What would happen to our friendship if I did?
Would Darren be grounded? Was there a God in that night sky?
And most importantly, would Jesse Young and The Matches be able to take care of Jesse’s “problem” forever?
My brain did not have enough power to answer any of the questions. I was used to having time alone to think through my problems, but Jesse hated leaving any silence because silence meant a person had to deal with pain, and after seeing Jesse’s outbreak, I thought he had a lot of built-up pain.
Jesse screamed, “Tonya, Mason, Keith, and you guys have to get over here right now!”
Darren shot up like a confetti cannon. He was ready to listen to his song be turned into a masterpiece.
Jesse was in his own world. He stuttered about how it was not perfected yet, and he needed the band to help him figure out how the music could complement his new lyrics. He was on a creative high.
“What do you got?” Keith questioned.
“Darry, you are the one who wrote it, right?” Jesse asked.
“Yeah, I am. Why?”
“Come here, read this, and tell me what you think first. Where are those peaches you guys stole? I’m going to need some if we keep working. I am starving.”
I snuck a glance at the notebook paper as Darren read.
Pitiful Peaches:
“When the peach flowers bloom
and the juice falls from your eyes
Remember that I don’t bite
There is no need for goodbyes
One day, we will reunite
When they grow out of my tomb.” –Jesse
“Pitiful Peaches are what I am to you.
We can swim at the beaches.
But my love is still true.
Pitiful Peaches keep me alive.
I would bleed for you.
Baby, we must survive.
Pitiful Peaches are sweet but tart.
Baby, baby, baby,
Please don't squeeze my heart.
Pitiful Peaches are what I am to you.” –Darren
“When the peach flowers bloom
And you spit out the pit
Remember that I tried my best
Struggling is hard to admit
So please lay me to rest.” –Jesse
The chorus was repeated once more at the end. Jesse made Darren’s simple love song into a compelling story about struggling with your inner self so much that you cannot love.
Darren turned to Jesse. “This is sensational. You turned my stupid tune into a sparkling gem. It has so many layers. These lyrics combined with Keith playing the drums, Mason’s keyboarding, and Tonya’s bass would be mind-blowing.”
Darren was right. Jesse turned his sharp-edged rock and ran it through a tumbler. But it still needed to be polished. “You guys should all try to mess around with it and add something,” I recommended.
Jesse scratched his head. “I guess that would be okay, but if I want to change something, don’t get your panties in a bunch,” he said as he whacked Keith on the back.
Keith whacked Jesse right back.
There was a reason Jesse Young and The Matches ended up in Moose Creek, of all places. Maybe we could help each other in ways I never dreamed of. Jesse and the band dove into the guitar case full of peaches, eating the juicy parts and spitting or throwing out their pits into the fire.
The night dragged on. The stars dimmed, and the air started to smell smokey. It was very faint. However, the atmosphere had changed. My clear breaths turned fogged as Jesse Young and The Matches perfected their new song, “Pitiful Peaches.”