Casey Barnes Eponymous

16



Sukh and Ben were also sophomores so none of them had their license yet. Since Yull had an Amnesty club meeting that day, the newly formed power trio took the bus to Casey’s house after school.

Thankfully all the three-seaters were taken. The three of them cramming into one of those would have been too unrock for words. Casey sat in front of Ben and Sukh. She took paper and pen out of her bag and turned to face them. “What are your influences?”

“Let me consider,” Sukh said.

Casey looked at Ben. “Drummer?”

“Is that how you’re going to address me from now on?”

“Possibly,” she said.

“Why do you need to know my influences?” he asked.

“For when we write our band bio. They always state influences in band bios.”

“I see.”

On one corner of the paper Casey scribbled A good bandleader knows how to keep her musicians on task. She threw her hand over it so Sukh and Ben could not see. Ben might have seen though. Or perhaps he was just raising his eyebrow because he had an itch. “Influences, please,” she pressed.

“The punks,” Sukh said.

She brought her pen to paper and nodded. “Interesting.”

Sukh nodded. “Yes, they have most definitely influenced me.”

“Which punk bands in particular?” she asked.

“Nirvana,” he said. She wrote it down. “Mudhoney,” Sukh continued.

“Separating yourself from the pack here,” she murmured.

Ben looked out the window. Casey frowned and made another note at the bottom of the paper. While attitude on the part of drummers is to be expected, it is still imperative for band leaders to communicate a sense of limitation to said drummers when they get too lippy. Aka, threaten to fire him from time to time.

“And I like the hard punk bands like Fugazi and Minor Threat,” Sukh concluded.

“Sukh man,” Casey said, “even though I generally view D.C. scenesters as kids in hammer and sickle T-shirts with degrees from elite schools, these are impressive contributions.”

Ben’s eyes remained glued outside. “Ever listen to Jawbox?”

“No but I can.” Sukh grinned. “This bus ride is more educational than an entire day at Walton!”

“This is only the beginning of your rockucation.” Casey turned to Ben. “Your turn.”

“Did you just say ‘rockucation’?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Do you have any food at your house?”

“All rider requests must be made in writing,” she said. Riders are food and dressing room requirements made by musicians while on tour. Ben just stared. “We might have Oreos and frozen pizza,” she added.

“Blue-eyed soul, psychedelic, Spencer Davis, Traffic,” Ben said.

She cocked her head to one side. “I didn’t know they still made Winwood fans.”

“They do. Your go.”

“PJ Harvey, My Morning Glory, Cat Stevens, Andrew Bird, Moby, and the Gorillaz.”

“You are an impresario of influences,” Sukh said.

“That I am,” Casey said. Ben looked back out the window.



After cleaning out the kitchen of all forms of junk food life, Casey, Ben and Sukh went to the basement. Ben had a drumming pad and Sukh had an acoustic bass they borrowed from the music room. Casey strapped her guitar on.

And then she kind of panicked. What if they did not like her songs? But they were watching and she had junk food pumping through her veins. She launched into the song about her biology teacher being reincarnated as a tapeworm. When she got to the end she realized she had been staring at the ground the whole time. She looked up and saw that Sukh and Ben seemed a bit uncomfortable.

“Casey, maybe the next time you could sing a little bit louder?” Sukh said.

“Let’s hear another one,” Ben said.

Casey launched into her second song. But she was even more nervous that time and kept flubbing chords. She stopped halfway through. “Sorry, I really can play guitar. I just, um…” She shook her head and started again. When she got to the end of that one, Ben and Sukh did not say much either. Then she launched into a third. That time she at least did not flub any chords and her voice was more audible. When she finished she got a nod from Sukh and what might have been a slight head movement from Ben.

“Got any more?” Ben asked. She nodded. When she was midway through that one Ben sat on the couch and began to tap out a rhythm. Sukh picked up his bass and strummed. If pressed, Casey would have described it as the sonic equivalent of that color kids got to in elementary school when they lost control of finger painting. But the three of them were, technically, playing music together. Which made it a real live band practice. After that song they told each other it sounded good, even though it had not.

“Maybe now we work on a Beowulf song,” Sukh said.

“A what?” Ben asked.

“Beowulf as Elvis,” Sukh said, “It is a project we do for English class. We’re telling the story of Beowulf in modern day Graceland as a rock opera.”

Ben looked from Sukh to Casey. “There might be hope for this band yet.”



The rest of band practice consisted of googling and transposing Elvis songs and then changing the lyrics to be either quotes from or statements about Beowulf. Ben was considerably more excited about the Beowulf/Elvis songs than he was about Casey’s. He even said he could skip gym class the day they were presenting and accompany them.

Casey folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not sure if I want truants in my rock band.”

“Somehow I don’t quite believe you on that one,” Ben said.

“Come now Casey, it is only gym,” Sukh said.

“Gym to you, physical education to me.”

A couple of songs later Sukh announced he had to depart in order to go home and study. His sister was coming to pick him up and she could also give Ben a ride. As soon as they were gone Casey went upstairs and did an internet search on great rock bands that had less than stellar first rehearsals. Her search yielded no results. There was, however, little time for despair. That was because, at that moment, Leigh called.

“I need you to come over.”

“What happened?”

“Just please come. I’m not even supposed to be talking on the phone right now.”

“Is it--?”

“Armageddon,” Leigh said, “Please come. Now.”





17



Before they got off the phone, Leigh had instructed Casey to enter the house through the sliding glass door that led to her basement. And that was because Leigh was in the same state she had been in since she walked in the door from school that day.

Grounded. And not like the Pavement album either. Rather she was plain, old-fashioned, mon cherie you ain’t seeing the light of day until you’re thirty-five, grounded.

Leigh’s mom found the roach clip. She was also the one who found the Arcade Fire ticket. They were both in a pair of jeans Leigh gave to her several weeks back to get the knee sewed.

“How could you not remember they were the ones you wore to the show?” Casey asked.

They were sitting on top of the dryer in her laundry room. Leigh’s mom was upstairs noisily moving pots and pans around in the kitchen. “I just forgot, okay,” Leigh grumbled. Leigh’s mom moved one pot with a particularly loud clang.

“So why’d she put the ticket but not the roach clip in your room when she’d found both of them?” Casey asked.

“I think she was trying to get me to fess up or something. Either that or she had to look online and find out what a roach clip was.”

Casey thought about Leigh’s mom’s candle shop and how she had scented candles organized by season. “She totally had to look online and see what a roach clip was.”

Leigh put her head in her hands.

“How long are you grounded for?” Casey continued.

“She didn’t say. She just said there’s gonna be more but she won’t know until my Dad comes home from work tonight.”

“But did you try denying the whole thing? Saying it was Eva’s ticket and roach clip?”

“Yeah but she didn’t buy it. Eva even called and offered that story up. But my Mom said it was implausible that the roach clip and ticket ended up in my pants when Eva was the one who went to the show. And then she said she doubted Eva would’ve gone to an Arcade Fire show.”

“Hold on a minute,” Casey said, “How’d your mom know enough about Arcade Fire to know that Eva, despite owning three vinyl Stevie Wonder albums and everything the Beta Band has ever put out is still a touch long in the teeth--”

Leigh gave her a dirty look. Casey realized she had gotten too far off topic.

“Leigh!” Leigh’s mom called from upstairs.

Leigh jumped down from the dryer. “I better go.”

“Well what do you want me to do?”

Leigh shook her head. “I just needed moral support. I didn’t think she’d be tracking my inter-house movement so closely.”

“It’ll be okay. Look I’m sure your parents once got busted with a roach clip too.”

Leigh sighed. “Not once. That’s the whole problem.”

Casey frowned. Unfortunately she knew Leigh’s parents well enough to know that that was probably true. “Don’t worry,” she said. Leigh’s mom called again from upstairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Casey added.

The weird thing, though, was that she wouldn’t.





18



Leigh not showing up for school the following day may not have been the most extraordinary thing for some kids. But for Leigh it hands down was. Leigh had the attendance record of a miniature carton of milk. She never missed school.

Casey was at her locker mulling over what had gone down in Leigh’s household the night before to have caused this deviation from the natural order when something even more shocking happened: She heard Alex Deal’s voice behind her.

“Hey.”

Casey turned, froze for a moment, and then spoke. “Vincent?”

“You didn’t tell me you had a band.”

She blinked. “I…?”

“You guys are auditioning for talent show?”

She felt dizzy. She did not sign them up for talent show auditions. It must have been Ben or Sukh. But still, even if that was her original intention, the first band rehearsal did not fill her with confidence. “Um.”

He stared. Alex Deal was interested in her again! He wanted to know about her band. Yull was wrong. Alex Deal and Casey’s bands would play, no headline, talent show together and become even better than a super couple. They would join the ranks of Marianne Faithfull and Mick Jagger. Damon Alburn and Justine Fishman. Kurt Cobain and (pre-siliconization) Courtney Love. They would become a super rock couple.

“Yes, we’re trying out for talent show.”

“Interesting” he said, “You know they’re only letting a few bands in this year, don’t you?”

She attempted to look tough. “Yeah.”

“Alex,” a nastily familiar female voice called out. Casey grit her teeth and looked in the direction from whence the interruption had come. Her fear was confirmed. Maxine French was standing there.

“Good luck,” Alex said. He turned and walked away. There was something in the way he uttered his last two words that gave her the impression “rock super couple” was not quite topping his to-do list that week. As she watched him with Maxine French she got a nauseous feeling. Why was it that when boys found out girls had other boys it made them try harder, but when girls found out boys had other girls they wanted to die?

Suddenly she saw Sukh at the other end of the hall. She slammed her locker shut and ran towards him. “Sukh!”

Sukh smiled. “Why hello Casey. How are you today?”

“You signed us up for talent show auditions!? I don’t quite think we’re ready.”

Sukh’s smile vanished. “What is this, Casey? I did not do such a thing. Oh no, after yesterday there is no way I would, I mean your songs were very nice. But I think we need more practice before…have we really been signed up to audition for talent show?”

“So it wasn’t you, then?”

“No!”



She waited at the door to Spanish class. When she saw Ben coming she ran up to him. “Did you sign us up for talent show auditions?”

“Yes,” he replied without breaking stride.

“Why didn’t you ask us first?” They reached the classroom door. Ben kept right on going and headed to his seat. Casey had no choice but to follow.

“That was why you started a band, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t exactly think we were ready after yesterday’s rehearsal.”

He shrugged. “Yesterday’s rehearsal went well. We came up with some cool stuff.”

“About Beowulf! And anyway those were Elvis songs, not ours.”

“Doesn’t matter. We were starting to sound good by the end of rehearsal.”

The bell rang. Señor Griffin asked the class to settle down and answer the questions on the board. Casey considered. The fact was that they didn’t sound half bad when they were doing the Beowulf songs. “Are we going to audition for talent show with the Beowulf as Elvis songs?”

“Por favor, Casey,” Señor Griffin said. She scribbled out a note. We can’t play the Beowulf as Elvis songs at talent show!

Ben responded. Who says we can’t? It’d still be a hell of a lot more interesting than your friend’s masturbatory efforts. Casey considered for a moment, and then wrote back. I do generally laud the use of dirty SAT words but keep in mind that singers/songwriters are by default the BOSS. Thus ONE, Watch your language. And further pursuant to that thought, as BOSS I (and this is TWO btw) must be CONSULTED prior to the moment DRUMMERS (NOT SINGER/ SONGWRITER/ GUITAR PLAYER) sign us up for talent show auditions. We don’t even have a name yet.

At the front of the room, Señor Griffin plugged his CD player in and produced a CD from his binder. There was a collective groan from the class. Señor Griffin had a CD of songs en español that were so slow and easy to understand they could have doubled as pre-school tunes. When he played them, el Señor attempted to engage the class in sing-alongs.

Ben passed the note back. Firing drummers for insubordination is, as I’m sure you know, a longstanding part of the rock tradition. You are free to take that route. And I know we have no name. Most bands don’t, when they first start out. And about us not quite ready to audition for talent show--the fact is that we’re closer than the front woman might think. SOMEONE just needs to get over her stage fright. Her songs weren’t half bad. PS I’m sure Lars Ulrich has signed Metallica up for a talent show audition or two.

“Vamos!” Señor Griffin urged the class to sing.

Point taken, Casey wrote, But it seemed like you were more into Beowulf as Elvis than our ‘band.’ Señor Griffin stopped the CD player and started admonishing the class for not singing along. I wasn’t, Ben wrote.

El Señor took a pop quiz out of his bag and laid it on his desk with a bang. When he next pressed play everyone sang. Except Casey, who was busy writing her response. Griffin’s going to need to learn to follow up on threats if he plans on getting anywhere in life. She passed it up.

“¡Canta, Casey!” Señor Griffin called out.

As are we all, Ben wrote back. Today let’s rehearse at my place, with real drums. Will sound better.



By a twist of fate and biological circumstance, Yull ended up giving them a ride to Ben’s house. He was standing by the front door of the school when classes ended for the day. Casey and Sukh walked together from English and met Ben in the front hall. The three of them were heading towards the school bus lines when they bumped into Yull.

“Hey,” he said to Casey. He then looked at Ben and Sukh expectantly as if waiting for an introduction.

“These are my friends,” Casey mumbled.

“Bandmates, Casey,” Sukh said.

“Excuse me?” Yull asked.

Casey groaned. “Yes, brother. I started a band. If you’ll excuse us we have rehearsing to do.”

“Ah ha,” Yull said, “Someone told me you’d signed up to audition for talent show but I wasn’t sure what…” Casey made a face. Was there no information safe from the eyes and ears of the Yull empire? “Anyway good for you,” he continued, “Need a lift home?”

Casey paused but then decided that what separated good rock stars from bad ones was knowing when not to kick a gift horse in the mouth. “No. But we could use a ride to Ben’s house.”

She commandeered Yull to stop at Leigh’s house on the way to Ben’s. Her suggestion provoked a myriad of questions on the part of bandmates and chauffeur.

“Why can’t you just call her?” Yull asked.

“I’ve been texting her all day. I think they took away her phone.”

“For going to an Arcade Fire concert?” Ben said.

“Well there was something else attached to the ticket.”

Yull stopped the car outside her house. “What?”

“A roach clip.”

“A what?” Yull said.

“That’ll do it,” Ben said.

“Why’d she take a roach clip into her house?” Yull asked.

“What is a roach clip?” Sukh asked.

Casey got out of the car and trotted to the front door of Leigh’s house. Leigh’s mother answered after two rings of the doorbell. She opened only the front door and left the screen shut. Casey frowned. Leigh’s mother was usually at the shop that time of day.

“Hello Casey,” she said flatly.

“Hello Mrs. Robinson! Playing hooky from work today, are you?” Mrs. Robinson frowned and Casey realized her choice of words may not have been the sagest.

“I had other matters to attend to,” Mrs. Robinson said.

“Of course. Mrs. Robinson can I please speak to Leigh for a few minutes?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” she replied, “Leigh is grounded.”

“Oh I understand that. But since she wasn’t in school today she missed a great deal of important information and I need to get it to her before she falls too far behind.”

“That won’t be necessary, Casey.”

“But Mrs. Robinson, even grounded kids eventually get report cards.”

“It won’t be necessary because Leigh won’t be returning to Walton. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have things to take care of.” Casey’s jaw dropped open. But before she could formulate a response, Mrs. Robinson closed the door in her face.



Ben’s house was small for Bethesda and decorated with prints from places like Bali, Buddhas, and art history books. When Casey first had a look around she felt dubious about the culinary prospects. Sure enough Ben pulled a box of soy (!) raspberry “cookies” out of the cupboard. Casey ate two for the sake of blood sugar and band stability but made a mental note to pack Twinkies prior to next rehearsal.

Band practice was better from the start. For one thing Ben was right about playing with a real drum kit as opposed to the tap pad thing he had the day before. The added volume made them sound more like a real band. Also he seemed to take it more seriously when he was playing real drums.

In the beginning Sukh took his cues from Ben. But after the first few songs he got more confident and started jumping in even before Ben did.

Casey at first remained shy and did not improve much on the day before. But then she remembered Alex Deal being with Maxine French and had a thought that if she kept playing badly she might keep seeing them together. Clearly getting into talent show was her best chance at getting him back. So she made herself sing louder and stand straighter, and she forced an image into her head of Alex Deal leaving school with none other than Casey Barnes. Right around then, the three of them hit a groove.

Yes, a groove. Casey, Ben and Sukh were, tentatively, jamming. For a moment, there was something so simultaneously exciting and terrifying about accomplishing group music status that Casey’s voice and playing got quiet again. But then she made herself think of Alex and Maxine. It was a trick, the mental equivalent of a doctor pinging your knee with the rubber thing and the knee flying up. But whatever it was, it worked. They played eight of Casey’s original songs. By the time they got to the last one they actually started to sound good. When it ended everyone looked at each other with collective relief.

“Got any more?” Sukh asked. Casey paused. She did have another song. It was the one she wrote about Alex Deal. But that one was so different than the others.

She shook her head. “We could play some of the Beowulf as Elvis songs.” So they did. And the Beowulf as Elvis songs were like a cakewalk after they had gotten into such a groove on the originals. After a half hour they had the entire Beowulf project mapped out, which was a good thing since it was due the next day.

When they went back upstairs after practice, Casey had a chance to quiz Ben. She started by asking what his mom did.

“She teaches Spanish at the University of Maryland.”

“Is that why you’re good at Spanish?”

He nodded.

“What’s Reiki?” she continued.

“It has something to do with energy,” he said.

“Do you have Buddhas because you’re Buddhists?”

“Having a Buddha does not automatically make one a Buddhist,” he paused, “but my Mom’s one.”

“Are you serious? Does she tell you you’re gonna be reincarnated as a flea every time she’s pissed at you?”

“No.”

Casey drained her glass of carbonated health food water. “Got any Coke?”

“Nope.”

“So why’s your Dad live in Paris?”

“He just does.”

“But I mean,” she pressed, “does he live there because he’s French or because he’s American and works for Chanel?”

“Neither.”

“Paris is very beautiful,” Sukh said.

Ben looked at the clock. “Should we be waiting outside for your brother?”

“It’s cold out,” Casey said. They heard the honking of Yull’s car horn in front.



That night, there was not much time to mull over Ben’s lack of response to Casey’s line of questioning regarding his father. There was not even much time to gloat about how well band practice had gone and how in the space of one short rehearsal, world rock domination had become within reach by measurable degrees.

That was because after dinner, a blissful interlude due to Tricia working late, step dad Jim having his weekly squash game at the gym, Yull being at a friend’s to study, and Casey eating ALONE AND IN FRONT OF CABLE TELEVISION, she went upstairs to her room, opened the door, and saw something that made her shriek.