Chapter 7

           ItoldCharlieIhadalotofhomeworktodo,andthatIdidn’twantanythingtoeat.Therewasabasketballgameonthathewasexcitedabout,thoughofcourseIhadnoideawhatwasspecialaboutit,sohewasn’tawareofanythingunusualinmyfaceortone.

           Onceinmyroom,Ilockedthedoor.IdugthroughmydeskuntilIfoundmyoldheadphones,andIpluggedthemintomylittleCDplayer.IpickedupaCDthatPhilhadgiventomeforChristmas.Itwasoneofhisfavoritebands,buttheyusedalittletoomuchbassandshriekingformytastes.Ipoppeditintoplaceandlaydownonmybed.Iputontheheadphones,hitPlay,andturnedupthevolumeuntilithurtmyears.Iclosedmyeyes,butthelightstillintruded,soIaddedapillowoverthetophalfofmyface.

           Iconcentratedverycarefullyonthemusic,tryingtounderstandthelyrics,tounravelthecomplicateddrumpatterns.BythethirdtimeI’dlistenedthroughtheCD,Iknewallthewordstothechoruses,atleast.IwassurprisedtofindthatIreallydidlikethebandafterall,onceIgotpasttheblaringnoise.I’dhavetothankPhilagain.

           Anditworked.Theshatteringbeatsmadeitimpossibleformetothink-whichwasthewholepurposeoftheexercise.IlistenedtotheCDagainandagain,untilIwassingingalongwithallthesongs,until,finally,Ifellasleep.

           Iopenedmyeyestoafamiliarplace.AwareinsomecornerofmyconsciousnessthatIwasdreaming,Irecognizedthegreenlightoftheforest.Icouldhearthewavescrashingagainsttherockssomewherenearby.