Chapter 31 #2
Four hours later, they were a little under halfway there.
After getting gas at a random stop off Highway 401 (and stopping for bathrooms and snacks, as promised), Katja switched driving duties with Malek.
Caspar wandered from the back seat, where he and Malek had snuggled, chatted, and snoozed most of the trip so far, to the front of the bus.
Malek needed to adjust the driver’s seat tremendously to make up for his nearly 6’8” frame, but once he settled in, driving seemed to calm him.
Malek had told Caspar that when All Trades had been a new band, he and Abe had bought a van and a trailer with their savings and gone on tour with it.
It meant long, long nights on the road behind the wheel with nothing but flatlands in front of them.
While it had driven Idris crazy, it had made Malek feel like he was finally in control of his destiny.
He saw the country—and his best friends had been beside him the entire time.
Caspar thought about that story a lot as Malek drove now. He wondered if Katja, Natasha, and William made Malek feel at home, too. From his smile and the way he fiddled with the radio and hummed along to the songs, Caspar knew that they did.
When Caspar’s phone buzzed, he furrowed his brow. Who the hell had texted him?
It’s Natasha, the text message read. I’m doing my duty and letting you know the funeral service is going to air soon. 2pm on Toronto’s Citizen’s Brigade site.
A link followed her text message and made Caspar edgy. He didn’t want to watch his funeral service in real time, especially if it meant he was going to see his house again.
Thanks. I’ll watch it soon. Where did you get my number, by the way?
Natasha sent a winky face in return. When Caspar’s phone buzzed next, it was Katja texting him.
From me. Don’t worry. I got it from Jocasta. Chaz has it too.
And me, William texted next.
Caspar’s stomach flipped. His phone had been something to play games on, since he’d had no one he could call, but now it hummed to life. It was so silly for Natasha, Katja, and William to text him when he was this close, but he appreciated it so, so much.
After replying to everyone, their conversations soon died down.
Caspar’s fingers hovered over the keypad on his phone as he thought of Anthony’s number.
Would he ever get to tell Anthony about this adventure?
It was the kind of thing the two of them had dreamed about as kids while watching movies or reading people’s law files.
“You and me against the world,” Anthony had once shouted on the baseball diamond while walking home.
You and me… Discovering, finding all the treasure, and getting everything we ever wished for.
When the radio crackled, Caspar was pulled from his daydream.
“Shoot,” Malek grumbled as the radio station went out completely. “A drive is not complete without music. You mind helping me out?”
“Not at all.”
The bus went over a bump in the road and Caspar was jostled, but kept his hold.
Malek muttered his apologies and scanned the back.
Natasha and Katja were now sharing nail polish that Katja had insisted was magic (when it really just glowed in the dark) and would probably go back to making out in a matter of minutes.
William traced his fingers over some of the protection sigils they’d added to the inside of the bus, then over their enchanted items as well.
So far, they’d passed three cops with speed traps, and they’d gotten by every single one.
“Maybe Katja or Twigs know of a way to protect the radio station,” Caspar said. He fiddled with the knob, but failed to find anything remotely good to play. All the other stations seemed to be country music or evangelical nonsense about the end of days. “Maybe I should shut it off?”
“Hmm. You know what? There are more songs on my phone. Even if we can’t get the music to the whole bus, I want to play you some things.”
“Sure, sounds good. I still need to catch up on the past seven years of music.”
“Good.” Malek grinned as he grabbed the phone from his jacket pocket. He furrowed his brows as it buzzed in his hands. His face twisted and grew pale as he read the message.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just some updates from Jocasta.”
“Oh?” Caspar’s heart rate was already climbing. “Henri…?”
“Still at large. Jocasta and Gabe took down a bunch of gargoyles in a chop shop that William couldn’t get into, though, so there’s that.”
“William’s adventure paid off?”
“In big ways. But let’s not tell him. Shouldn’t encourage his wandering.
” Malek winked before he scrolled through his playlist on his phone, keeping one eye on the road.
As soon as he found the song he wanted, he pressed play and handed it to Caspar so he could hook up his headphones.
Caspar listened to the low murmurs of a song called “Infinity Heart.” He dug the fast chord progression of the guitar and the quick beat.
He thought it was just a random song until he heard Malek’s voice—distinct but faint—in the background of the track.
“Oh. Is this—”
“My band,” Malek confirmed. His smile was weak, but there. “All Trades. I like the song, though it’s been years since I listened to it. Or encouraged anyone else to.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. But don’t talk to me about it. Listen to it.”
Caspar quieted and listened to the song like the gift it was.
As soon as he heard the chorus, he understood why Malek had always been so hesitant to share All Trades.
This song was about Abe. It was about lost love.
It was beautiful—but also heart wrenching.
When the song finished, he paused the next one and took out the headphones. “Wow, that was…”
“Tough. I know. But it reminded me of something Twigs said to me last night. I should start with the sad songs in life, and then move onto the good, because leaving the sad for the end is too predictable. Unhappy endings don’t surprise or inspire anyone.
Ending a story that way is actually pretty cheap.
It’s not original or realistic. It’s just sad. ”
“Huh. Reminds me of a debate I had with a film major once. About how David Lynch’s films were utterly nonsensical and how he was treated as some great artist—but people only did that because his films made them feel bad, and people had equated feeling bad with high-quality art.
So, bam. They mistook suffering for artistry.
” Caspar gave some more details about the debate, all of which Malek seemed to understand and nod along with.
“So, basically, I think I agree with Twigs.”
“Yeah, me too,” Malek said. “But it’s taken me a while to really understand her perspective. You should listen to the second song now. It’s called ‘Locker Wars’ and it’s about high school. So be kind.”
When Caspar listened, he smiled. It was an angsty song, a little rough around the edges, but it was fun. The beat and funky lyrics, especially Malek’s rap halfway through, made it fun. “I liked that.”
“Good. And I’m not boring you?”
Caspar shook his head.
“That’s a relief. Because we’re not even close to done yet.”
With a dutiful sigh, Caspar plugged in the tracks that Malek wanted him to hear and commented on them when they were done.
The landscape outside transformed from green hills and city streets to the limestone rock faces that Kingston and the surrounding area were known for.
The terrain became hillier as they drove toward Ottawa, where Ultima Vez was supposed to be.
The scenery slowly became something distant in Caspar’s mind, as though he was looking at a postcard.
“How far are we?” William asked after wandering to the front. “I don’t mean to break up your dance party, but I’m getting restless.”
“Um, about an hour and a half until Quebec. But we gotta get Ultima first.”
William sighed. “Ontario is so fucking big, man.”
“I know. But it’ll be over soon,” Malek said. “Just gotta find something to do.”
“I’m not playing the license plate game. What are you guys doing?”
“Listening to an old CD. Probably made way before you were born,” Caspar teased.
“I’m not that young. And even if I am, you should let me listen.”
“It’s… um… personal,” Malek said.
“Oh, come on. Music is meant for everyone.”