After The Energists: Rebooted Teen YearsChapter 55: Go Rest High On That Mountain free porn video
Homeroom, Medway High School
8:03am, Wednesday, March 21, 1979
The murmurings we heard in the halls before our homeroom session in Mr. Connors’ history room were tragically true. There was a heavy air in the room as a few sobbed, ‘Oh, Gods!‘ and other sadden words were muttered right after Mr. Williamson announced that two of my eleventh grade football teammates were killed in a car crash around ten-thirty on Tuesday night. Rick Wood and Paul Pierce, who was Mr. and Mrs. Pierce’s son, died at the hands of a drunk driver. Later that day, we learned that Rick died instantly in the crash and Paul drowned in a shallow creek after the car he was driving flipped and careened down off the back country road.
Mr. Williamson told us over the PA system that classes would be held the rest of the day, but that our attendance in them wouldn’t be held against anyone. He also said that the Pierce and Wood families had already made arrangements to hold a joint funeral for their sons at Donahue Funeral Home this Friday at 11am, with a visitation time starting at 9am. Once more, our vice-principal told everyone that a sign-in sheet would be used to excuse any student who attended our school mates’ funeral.
“Good Lord! Mike,” Lynette sobbed as she leaned over and laid her head on my shoulder. “This shit ain’t supposed to happen. Why did it happen?”
“I don’t know, Baby. You’re right, it’s not supposed to happen, but it did. I can’t imagine how Coach and Mrs. Pierce are felling, right now,” I replied as I gently scratched Lynette’s head with my right hand.
“If any of you want to talk or say something,” Mr. Connors’ said in a subdued tone, “All of us teachers have been asked to let you share or vent your feelings during the day. Please though, if you’re venting, try to be as cautious as you can with your words and actions. You’ll have some leeway, but as much as I hate to say this, this is still a school. Unfortunately, today is one of the worst lessons you’ll ever learn.”
None of my tenth grade homeroom mates said anything right off the bat as most of us had tears in our eyes and/or were comforting those who did. Lynette, without lifting her head from my shoulder whispered, “There wasn’t anything about a sub for Mrs. Pierce. Do we go to class, not show up. I’m just not ready for crap like this, Mike?”
“I didn’t hear anything ‘bout that, either,” I replied and half-heartedly raised my left hand to get Mr. Connors’ attention.
The stout, blonde-goateed teacher nodded his head at me and then slowly walked to my desk. “Mike?” he softly asked.
“I, uh, we, Lynette and I know that, um, Mrs. Pierce won’t be here the rest of this week for English, but, uh, we didn’t hear Mr. Williamson say anything about having a sub for today’s class. We just want to...”
“I’ll find out for you in a flash. I’m sure that was an oversight on the Mr. W’s part,” my teacher replied, correctly interpreting what I was getting at. He quickly walked over to the intercom and buzzed the main office.
It was about fifteen seconds after Mr. Connors’ asked about a substitute teacher for Mrs. Pierce that we hear Ms. Stone, the secretary say, “We didn’t get a sub for Mrs. Pierce. The students are free during that class time. We’ll announce that school wide in a second. Thanks.”
After Ms. Stone mentioned Mrs. Pierce’s name, I saw Mr. Connors’ wipe a few tears from his eyes, and he gave me and Lynette a small nod of recognition.
The bell to end homeroom was cancelled as was our first period math class with Mrs. Bumstead. With Lynette and I normally returning to Mr. Connors’ room after math for our Canadian history class, I asked him if it would be alright if Lynette and I could leave and take a walk out on the running track or around the field-hockey field.
“Will you be back here for history?” Mr. Connors asked.
“If you really want us back, we’ll be come,” Lynette said as she lifted her head off my shoulder for the first time in about ten minutes.
“Nah,” he said with a forced smile. “Just don’t get yourselves, or me in any trouble for letting you go right now.” As the two of us pushed up and out of our seats, Mr. Connors’ said to the extended homeroom class, “If you promise to be quiet and stay out of trouble, all of you can head to either the library, cafeteria or outside. You’re good to stay in here, too. Remember, you’ve still got to sign out, if you’re going to leave the school’s premises. I’m going to take my attendance record down to the office, right now.”
“I’ll drop it off in the office, if you’d like?” Lynette offered.
“No thanks, Lynette. Like you, I think a short walk might do me good, too,” our history teacher replied as he picked up the folder with our morning’s attendance record.
Walking with a group of my homeroom classmates, and with Lynette leaning on my shoulder down the hallway, I wondered if Mr. Feelt or Mr. Ballows would let me snag one of the acoustic guitars from the music room. I figured that picking on a guitar might be a good way to ease my, or anyone’s mind, who wanted to come sit out on the hill beside the field-hockey field with Lynette and me.
“Sammy, you wouldn’t happen to have any of our instruments in your truck, do you?” I asked as we met up with her at the back stairs to the main level of the school.
“Miracle of miracles, I think I have my twelve string, and, uh, that the soprano ukulele. Why? What’s up with you?”
“Well, just nothing. And I’m not good at doing nothing, if you know what I mean.“
“I think playing some music is a great idea, Mike,” Elizabeth said as she put her right hand on my shoulder. “You don’t mind if we tag along, do you?”
“Nope, if you don’t mind sitting on the wet grass,” I said.
“Can you believe this shit, Mike,” Paul muttered as he walked along the lower back hallway towards the cafeteria with a crying group of eleventh graders.
“I’m sorry, guys,” Heidi Amstrong said as a bunch of the tenth grade girls moved to give the eleventh graders a comforting hug.
“You off to the café?” Cathy asked as she pulled away from Lynette’s and Sammy’s small group hug.
“We, Cuda and I, we’re going to get my guitar and ukulele from my truck and ... uh, he suggested we hit the hill and, you know, just play something,” Sammy replied.
“Would you mind, maybe staying in the café to play? That’s where we decided to hang for the time being,” Paul asked as he gave his redheaded girlfriend a tight hug.
“The café works for me,” I replied.
“Come on, Cuda. Let’s grab those instruments,” Sammy said.
“I’ll walk with you,” Paul said as he took ahold of Sammy hand and walked slightly in front of Lynette and me towards the rear parking area.
Our trip to Sammy’s truck was painfully silent. I lifted the guitar case from the back and stopped dead in my track’s when Paul unexpectedly slapped the rear, side window and shouted, “Damn it! Damn it! Damn this all to hell!”
“It’ll be alright, Paul,” Lynette softly said.
“No! It’s NOT alright! None of this is right. I was gonna meet up with Rick over spring break to complete an art project, but now... SHIT!“
“You’ll manage it. We all will, Paul,” I said as I let Lynette take the guitar case from my hands before I wrapped up my weeping best friend in a huge bear hug.
“I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I FUCKING HATE THIS!“ Paul sobbed then shouted with his might.
“We all do, baby,” Sammy replied as she ran her hands over Paul’s neck and through his jet black hair.
“We can stay out here as long as you want, Paul. There’s no rush,” Lynette offered as Paul continued to cry on my shoulder.
“I’ll ... I’ll be o ... okay ... Just give me a sec.”
“No rush,” I reiterated as I patted my best friend on the back, while maintaining my bear hug with my other arm.
“I’m good,” Paul finally said as he subtly leaned back from me and used the sleeve of his Toronto Maple Leafs’ hockey jersey to wipe the tears from his face and eyes.
As the four of us walked back towards the rear-side entrance with the guitar and ukulele cases, Mr. Findley, the auto-shop teacher walked in our direction from the auto bay door.
“I’m sorry for your ... your loss,” he said as we stopped about ten feet from the entrance. “I also know that emotions are high right now; but please try, try, try not to use that inappropriate language, at least not as forcefully as you just did.”
“Sorry ‘bout that, Mr. Findley,” I replied for my best friend.
“It just got the better of me, out there,” Paul added, “Hopefully, it’s out of my system, now.”
“I doubt this sad event is out of yours, or any of our systems,” Mr. Findley calmly stated before making a good suggestion. “We all should try to honor the memory of your friends in more acceptable ways, I believe.”
“You’re definitely correct on that, Mr. Findley,” Lynette said.
“That’s what these are for,” Sammy added, lifting up the small ukulele case to complete her point.
“I’ve heard a number of good things about your musical abilities. Now, would be a great time to put those skills to use ... good music can calm a host of troubled souls,” Mr. Findley added.
“We’re on the same page, Sir,” I said as I nodded towards the tall, thin shop teacher.
“Thanks for not busting me over my language, Mr. Findley,” Paul softly said.
“Adult guidance, not punishment is what you need on a day like this. Go. Try to bring a little peace with your music. Everyone here could use it.”
“Yes, SSr. We’ll try,” I replied as the teacher turned to walk back to his domain, the open auto-shop.
“That was the first time I’ve ever talked with Mr. Findley,” Lynette said, “He seemed, like ... real nice.”
“I heard Jennifer say that he has a half year auto repair course for girls which I think is great,” Sammy said.
“Maybe we should sign up for it, next year,” Lynette said as she pulled the entrance door open.
“Thanks, Baby,” I said as I carried the guitar case into the school on our way to the cafeteria.
I was surprised to see that some students had pushed several tables off to the side and had arranged the chairs in that open area. Normally, rearranging anything in the cafeteria like this would have gotten someone in trouble with the lunchroom staff. However, the ladies in the kitchen area had loosened their reins, which allowed the grieving students to set the cafeteria up to their liking.
“Here, we saved you these chairs,” Cathy said as I spied Jennifer sitting by the vacant chairs with the school’s Ibanez six-string acoustic guitars in her lap.
“I heard you went to grab those,” Jennifer said as she pointed to the guitar and ukulele cases, “So I stopped by the music room and grabbed this from the storage area.”
“That’s the one I was going to grab, if Sammy didn’t have these in her truck,” I said as I saw the top-of-the-line Ibanez guitar in Jenn’s lap.
After Sammy and I had the ukulele and twelve-string guitar in our laps, respectively, Cathy softly asked in our general direction, “What are you going to play?”
“I’m not sure. Any suggestions?” I replied as I looked at Jennifer and Sammy.
“Not really,” Sammy said with a glum look on her face. Jennifer simply shook her head negatively in response. “Just play something, and if we can join in, we will,” Sammy added in my direction.
Sitting there, idly strumming Sammy’s twelve-string, I suddenly recalled the two songs that Kaleigh, Lindy, Heather and AnnJay sang at Hepzibah Baptist Church during Danielle Smithson’s funeral. Because of their enhanced musical abilities, I was fairly sure that Jennifer and Sammy would pick up and join in with me once they got a feel for these songs. Additionally, I figured Lynette and possibly, Cathy would add their voices to create a wonderful harmonized sound in Medway’s cafeteria.
Before I started to play, I said a silent prayer asking God’s help to get through these songs without crying or messing them up. As I did this, I recalled asking Kaleigh how she made it through singing at Danielle’s funeral, and she simply said, “With Christ alone.” I believed that if God did that for her, He would do it for me, as well.
The large cafeteria fell silent as I easily transformed the wonderful piano introduction on Sammy’s guitar to MercyMe’s I Can Only Imagine. I had to repeat that intro section because the lyrics overwhelmed me for a second. Fortunately, the strength I needed to sing this wonderful song washed over me and allowed me to sing:
“I can only imagine what it will be like?
When I walk by Your side?
I can only imagine what my eyes will see?
When Your face is before me?
I can only imagine.
Yeah!“
I looked at the girls in my band and immediately knew that they weren’t emotionally going to be able to help with this song as tears were welling up in their eyes. Most of the students sitting and standing around us also were crying. As I played on Sammy’s twelve-string, I took in another lungful of air and continued singing the remainder of this helpful song:
Chorus:
“Surrounded by Your Glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for You, Jesus?
Or in awe of You be still?
Will I stand in Your presence?
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing Hallelujah?
Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine!
I can only imagine!
I can only imagine when that day comes.
And I find myself standing in the Son!
I can only imagine when all I will do.
Is forever, forever worship You
I can only imagine, yeah
I can only imagine.“
Chorus – twice
“I can only imagine!
Yeah!
I can only imagine.
I can only imagine.
I can only imagine.
I can only imagine.
When all I will do,
Is forever, forever worship You.
I can only imagine.“
When I finished with this song, there wasn’t a dry eye in the entire cafeteria as the most students, about fifteen teachers and a few of the cafeteria workers were sobbing, sharing a hug or lending a shoulder to let someone cry on. I slumped down in the hard plastic chair and let out a huge sigh of relief.
With just some sniffles and crying in the cafeteria, Mr. Feelt’s clear loud voice broke the reverent silence. He loudly proclaimed, “Rick and Paul aren’t imagining any longer, people. There in a much better place, so we shouldn’t crying because their gone. If you’re going to cry, make sure they are happy tears because they’re forever in a better place.”
“Amen, Mr. Feelt!” Lynette softly shouted, reminding me of our time at my Catholic church.
A small chorus of echoed, ‘Amens’ spread around the café as I noticed a few smiles appearing on people’s faces for the first time since we learned about Rick and Paul’s death.
“That was beautiful, Mike. I just, I, I don’t know how you were able to do that,” Cindy Lewicky, an eleventh grade girl said.
“Yah, Mike. That was beautiful,” Lynette softly said as she leaned from her chair to wrap her arms around my shoulders.
“I’m guessing Rick and Paul asked Jesus to give me the strength to sing that, just then,” I said which put a few more smiles on some of my friends’ faces. I was glad that song, written by Bart Millard of MercyMe seemed to rejuvenate the spirits of my school mates, teachers and staff.
The people in the cafeteria burst out laughing when Rick’s best friend, Paul McKenley shouted, “The angels in heaven best be on the lookout with Rick and Paul up there. I can only imagine the pranks and crap whose two are pulling on God’s servants!”
That seemed to open up the flood gates. Everyone in the cafeteria shared either a story about those two guys, or a hug of support when someone needed it.
During this needed, ‘spill-your-guts‘ type emotional release, I had my band mates huddle around me and softly asked, “Do you know the song, Homesick? I sure could use a little help with it, if you do.”
Suddenly, we felt an Energists’ time-stop bubble settle around the six of us, and everyone in the café appeared frozen in time. A moment later, my computer materialized in front of me with a video containing the lyrics of that second, MercyMe song. We watched Bart and his band perform that song on my computer. When it was over, Lynette turned to me and confidently stated, “I know that song.”
“Me, too,” Sammy said.
“Me, three, and I can play along with you, Cuda,” Jennifer added with a smile.
“I’m not sure a ukulele will fit, but if I think I can blend it in, I will,” Sammy stated.
“Are you two able to help harmonize with us?” I asked looking at Cathy and Paul.
“I, we’ll try,” Cathy replied as she read her twin brother’s facial expressions.
“Alrighty, then, let’s give this song a go,” I said as my computer faded away. Before the Energists’ bubble disappeared from around us, Sammy confidently asked, “Can us girls sing this, please, Mike?”
“Yeah, knock yourselves out,” I replied with a smile on my face.
“There’s three verses and that incredible chorus, so, uh, how do we want to do this?” Lynette asked as her head bobbed as she pictured singing this uplifting song.
“Each of you can sing a verse, and I’ll do my best to sing along during the chorus,” Cathy said as Jennifer and Sammy reached out to take one of Cathy’s hands in their hands.
“Why don’t you start off, Sammy, since you asked to sing this,” Lynette suggested.
“And you take the second, and I’ll sing the third verse,” Jennifer interjected.
“Sounds like a plan. Are you ready to give this a whirl?” I said as I looked at the silent one in our group, Paul. When he gave me a reassuring nod, I felt a whole lot better about how he was handling this, seeing how he didn’t really have a role to play without his bass guitar.
“Let’s drop this bubble and do this!” Sammy excitedly said. With her words, the Energists’ time-stop bubble faded and we saw everyone come back to life as if nothing unusual had just happened.
“That transition still makes me grin,” Paul said with a smile, further reinforcing my feeling that my best friend was doing much better now.
“Ready, Jenn?” I asked of my co-guitarist for this song.
“You lead, I’ll follow,” she replied with a smile.
The cafeteria crowd quickly ended their conversations when they heard my opening guitar sounds to Homesick, from MercyMe’s 2004 album, Undone. I gave a simple spin of my finger to Sammy and Jennifer when I thought we should extent that twenty second opening to allow everyone a longer opportunity to settle back and hopefully enjoy this song.
Before Sammy started to sing the first verse, I simply announced, “This song is called, Homesick. We hope you like it.”
“You’re in a better place, I’ve heard a thousand times,” Sammy sang in her rich full alto voice.
“And at least a thousand times I’ve rejoiced for you.
But the reason why I’m broken, the reason why I cry.
Is how long must I wait to be with you.”
The girls created a beautiful four part harmony on this beautiful chorus:
“I close my eyes and I see your face.
If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place.
Lord, won’t You give me strength to make it through somehow!
(We’ve) never been more homesick than now.“
(Note: I changed “I’ve” to “We’ve” for this storyline.)
Lynette used her slightly higher pitched vocals as she sang the second verse:
“Help me Lord, ‘cause I don’t understand Your ways.
The reason why I wonder if I’ll ever know?
But, even if You showed me, the hurt would be the same!
‘Cause I’m still here, so far away from home.“
My girlfriend accessed her true Baptist roots and lifted up her hands as she honestly believed in the words of this inspiring verse. On the final line of that verse, Lynette wrapped her arms around torso, before she lifted her right hand skyward and pointed her index finger in heaven’s direction on the, “ ... from home.”
After the girls sang another beautiful, harmonized chorus, Jennifer’s huskier, more forceful voice gave the third verse a more uplifting feel as she sang:
“In Christ, there are no goodbyes!
And in Christ, there is no end!
So I’ll hold onto Jesus with all that I have.
To see you again.
To see you again!“
As Jennifer belted out those powerful words, I looked at Paul and mouthed, ‘Join me on this.’
During our brief guitar section before the grand finale, I softly said to the girls, “Let Paul and me finish this, ‘kay.”
Without hearing or seeing any type of response from the four girls, I knew that they would allow us to sing the final chorus of this song. Paul wonderfully blended his baritone voice a full octave lower than my tenor tone as we powerfully finished the song with:
“And I close my eyes and I see your face!
If home’s where my heart is then I’m out of place!
Lord, won’t You give me strength to make it through somehow!
Won’t You give me strength to make it through somehow!
Won’t You give me strength to make it through somehow.
I’ve never been more homesick ... than now.“
I loved that a number of my fellow students and a few of the teachers joined in with Paul and me as we sang our hearts out, trying to raise the roof with this uplifting song.
After everyone settled down after those two songs about Rick and Paul’s new home, we played several other songs from our upcoming gig at Glencoe. Our friends and the teachers present seemed to especially like Sammy and Jennifer’s vocals on Love Will Keep Us Alive and my rendition of Bob Dylan’s To Make You Feel My Love, and Cheap Trick’s The Flame. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face when Sammy unexpectedly added the soprano ukulele during the second verse of that Dylan song, which gave it a lovely distinctive sound.
The last song I played this morning, Go Rest High On That Mountain simply popped into my head during a short break. This song is by one of my favorite country singers, Vince Gill. Vince has the sweetest, high pitched voice of any male singer, in my humble opinion. Because none of my band mates were able to help me with this song, I performed it solo for everyone in the cafeteria.
The silence after I finished that song was deafening as I felt the people in the café could clearly see our departed friends, Rick and Paul singing with God’s angels. Both of them were members of our school’s award winning choir.
When the bell to end the third period sounded in the cafeteria, Mrs. Lucas, the head lunchroom lady caught the attention of Mr. Williamson. I saw her talking to our vice-principal and guessed that our little acoustic jam session was about to end.
I was spot on as Mr. Williamson loudly said, “We’re going to need you to rearrange the tables and chairs, folks as the fourth period lunch crowd will be arriving shortly. Thanks.”
Our V-P and my basketball coach waved over at us, and beckoned me and Lynette to come see him as the rest of the students in the cafeteria made fast work of arranging things like normal.
“That was great, Lynette, Mike,” he said as he put his around over my five foot, eight inch girlfriend’s shoulders. “I’d like to ask if ... you’d be willing to play a song or two at the funeral home on Friday. Don’t feel like you have to, but Mr. Feelt came and told me how well your first couple of songs went and ... well, he said they really provided comfort to everyone.”
Lynette and I both took deep breathes after listening to Mr. Williamson’s request. I stared at my girlfriend for a moment before she asked, “Are you sure the Wood and Pierce families would like for us to sing?”
“Nothings definite, but I’ll be in touch with both families, later today. I just can’t see them being opposed to having you sing at their boys’ funeral. I’ll let you know, later on today or first thing tomorrow.”
Based on how Lynette asked her inquiry, I was pretty sure she was up for it, so I answered Mr. Williamson’s earlier question. “It will be an honor to play a song or two at Paul and Rick’s funeral, if their families are good with it.”
“That last song ... play that one for sure, will you,” Mr. Williamson said as he lifted his arm from around Lynette’s shoulder. He then added, “You guys did well this morning. From what I saw, you really helped a good number of people here.”
“Thanks, Coach,” I said as Lynette said, “Thanks, Mr. Williamson.”
“Hey, are we going to need these here at school?” Sammy asked as she held up the ukulele and pointed to her guitar which I had placed in its carry case.
“Doubt it,” I called back.
“You kids, have as good a day as you can ... and stay out of trouble. I’ve already had enough crap on my plate to last me a lifetime,” Mr. Williamson said as he let out a sigh. “With this, I hate student’s funerals ... as well as having to organize some new hair-brained Ministry of Education program for next fall ... spring break can’t get here soon enough.”
“I’ll try to stay out of trouble, Mr. Williamson, but I can’t promise that Mike won’t drag me down in the mire,” Lynette chuckled as she took ahold of my hand and started to pull me over to our band mates and friends location.
“It would be the other way around, Sir,” I said as I reached behind my back with my free hand and lightly swatted my girlfriend’s derriere.
“See, Mr. Williamson,” Lynette called out which cause a small laugh to escape from our clearly troubled vice-principal’s chest.
“So what are you guys gonna do now?” Paul asked all of us in general.
“I think I’m going to go to PE. Running around is a good way to burn off some of this bad juju,” Sammy said as she stood upright from doing the clasps on the ukulele case.
“I’m with you, Sammy,” Kalena Kharlamov said as she pushed her chair in against the table with her non-injured left hand.
“That sounds like a solid plan of action,” I replied. “With it being so beautiful outside, I hope that Scope will let us play soccer or maybe lacrosse today in class, instead of having us do that damned timed mile fitness test.”
“I better head on to French. Miss Auzins told us the other day we’d have a review session for our test, tomorrow. I’m not sure how that’s gonna fly, now but better safe than sorry,” Lynette said.
“I’m with you on that, Lynette,” Elizabeth said.
“What are you three doing?” I asked of the eleventh graders in our band, the ones most impacted by today’s sad news.
“I’m, uh, I think I’ll just hang here with McKenley, Gary and a few of the guys,” Paul said as he pointed across the room to where a good number of the eleventh grade guys were milling about.
“Similar to Lynette and Liz, Mr. Chidley is having a review session in physics, and I can use all the help I can get. Are you coming, Cathy?” Jennifer replied and then turned to the final member of our band.
“I’ll be sitting right in front of you, Jennifer,” Cathy replied in a glum tone of voice.
“We best get crackin’, even though I’m sure we won’t pick up a tardy. Plus, a few of us have to run to the front of the school to grab our gym clothes, and come back down here for class,” I said as I picked up the guitar case.
“We’re dropping these off in the music room?” Sammy asked.
“That is what I was thinking,” I said as we slowly made our way out of the cafeteria to the music room, before we headed off to our lockers to grab our needed gear or books.
Before Lynette and I parted ways, we paused and I gave her a big kiss on the lips, then asked, “Are you skipping PE and coming to lunch, or will I see you in the café during our open seventh period?”
“Not sure. Getting some exercise in PE does sound good, so, u...” Lynette replied.
“Okay, Lava-Lips, I’ll see you at the start of the seventh. Love you!”
“Love you more,” she replied back, and headed into Miss Auzins’ language room for her French review session.
“So, Kalena,” Sammy said as we walked towards the locker rooms, “How’s the wrist doing?”
“The doctors’ at the Sports Medicine Clinic think I have a torn radial-collateral ligament,” Kalena replied as she ran her left pointer finger from her right thumb to a point on her wrist.
“What are they going to do about it?” I asked as we reached the back stairwell.
“Dr. Kennedy and some hand specialist are going to discuss the options with my mom, but I’m guessing I’ll have surgery on it, hopefully during spring break so I won’t miss much school.”
“They have really good doctors at Western, Kalena, so I’m sure they’ll have you back doing round-offs and flying around the gymnastic apparatus in no time,” Sammy said as we reached the first floor.
“Can I change the subject for a moment, please?” Kalena asked with a smile on her cute, button-nosed face.
“What’s on your mind, Toxic?” I replied with my own question.
“With, uh, with that last song you played in the café, if you’re gonna play it at the guys’ funeral like Mr. Williamson asked ... sorry for listening in on that conversation but I was thinking...”
Bree
- 04.06.2021
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