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He always had a talent for taking things apart, tinkering. He sees small things and knows how they go together. He’s going to do good too.
“I guess I totally forgot,” I shrug as I pull my books out of my backpack and spread them out on the table. “What did I forget again?”
He raises his eyebrows. It’s funny. He looks a lot like me, sometimes way too much. It’s like watching myself in the mirror, but a mirror that also time travels me back two years or so.
“My gig?” he prods. “Hello? My big break in your fancy college town?”
My stomach tightens. “Oh, shit… I really did forget,” I admit. “Listen, Frankie…”
“Nope!” he barks, standing up and raising his arms over his head.
Seriously, he should have played football. I am sure we could have found that killer instinct inside him somewhere. He is big as a house.
“Zeke, you are not bailing on me, okay? This is a big deal. I need this.”
But I have practice, I want to say.But I have homework…
“Yeah, no problem,” I say instead. “I can’t stay for the whole thing, but I wouldn’t miss it. You know that.”
He smiles, his eyes twinkling. I can still see the little kid in his face. He is a man now, but that happy spirit is in there all the time. How could I say no?
“Okay, tell you what,” I start, frantically trying to figure out what I’m going to do to get everything done, but trying not to let on that it’s any problem at all, “let me just get these books organized. I’ll grab the guys and we will head downtown. You have a bunch of equipment or what?”
“All taken care of,” he smiles proudly. “I borrowed the rolling cases from the AV nerds. We just get them through the door, plug in, and we are ready to go.”
“Perfect,” I nod, convinced this will be fine. “So just thirty minutes of peace and quiet and I will be ready to go. Cool?”
He mimics zipping his mouth closed, and flops back onto my bed, somehow not snapping the bed frame supports under his weight. To my great surprise, he really does keep quiet the whole time.
I’m able to bust out an intro for an essay, skim some of my reading, and check the syllabus for surprise quizzes or something. I’m clear. It’s a miracle.
I’m feeling pretty good when I restack my books on the desk and turn around in my chair. Through the open door, I see Trevor passing by and whistle through my teeth at him. He doubles back and stands in the doorway, his shoulders almost too wide to fit through.
I have a special feeling for Trevor. He kind of reminds me of Frankie, though Frankie might not take too kindly to that. Trevor is a sweet guy, but needs a little taking care of. He’s a farmer, majoring in agriculture. His dad was a farmer. His brothers are farmers. He knows a lot of things, but mostly about farming. The rest of the world leaves him a bit baffled.
When I imagine myself as a teacher, it’s guys like Trevor who I imagine reaching out to. Guys who it would be so easy to pass over, who maybe aren’t the most sophisticated readers. Who maybe just skate by year after year, in Trevor’s case because he is such a good football player.
Trevor smiles at me, waiting for me to say something. He’s a good kid.
“Hey, you know my brother Frankie, right?” I announce.
Frankie gets up from bed and leans over to shake Trevor’s hand. They are almost mirror images of each other. Frankie is dark-haired, dark-eyed. Like me. Trevor is farm-boy blond, blue eyes, friendly smile. Still, they are cut from the same cloth.
“Remember I told you my brother has that DJ gig? Tonight? I mean, in just a bit?”
Trevor shakes his head a tiny bit. He’s confused, but that is a common state of affairs for him. He just plays along.
“What? That’s today?”
“Yeah. We are going to head out in about five minutes. You ready?”
Trevor looks concerned. “It’s Tuesday, though. A school night?”
“Yeah, totally!” I answer brightly.
The thing is, I dropped the ball. I did forget about this event. I mentioned it maybe six weeks ago when Frankie first told me about it, but then I never followed up or anything. And I told all the guys we needed to be there. So I am really hoping that is still gonna happen.
“Well, I can’t stay out late on a Tuesday,” Trevor explains, obviously trying not to make any waves.
