Falling For The Shoulder You Lean On, chapter 1
1977. Armstrong's backyard.
Seri's POV
It was another bright, Sunday morning at Billie Joe's house. We were in the backyard playing on the swing set.
"Higher! Higher!" I shouted.
He nodded and pushed me as high as he could. I felt as if, in any second, I would go flying off the swing and directly into space. We played hide and seek, monsters and swam in his pool late into the afternoon. It started getting dark as my Mom called from the backdoor.
"Serenity! Billie Joe! Time for dinner!"
Yes, that is I, Serenity Blake. I am five years old. I got a best friend in the whole, wide world and that is Billie Joe. I have known him since forever. My mom and Mrs. Ollie have been friends since they were younger. I love going over to Billie's house. His family is so nice. I like hanging out with his older brother's and sister's: David, Allen, Marcy, Holly and Anna. They are so much fun. Mr. Andy, their dad, works all the time. He is a truck driver and he plays the drums in a jazz band. Their entire family is musical. A few weeks ago, Billie got to record a song called, Look For Love. It was really good. It is so cool that he was able to do that. I wish I could sing half as good as Billie. He can even play the piano. Whenever Mr. Andy is home, he spends time with he kids. I wish my Dad was like Mr. Andy. I would not know, I have never met him.
Billie's POV
Today was so much fun. I love it when Seri comes over. She is my best friend. She is so cool, even if she is a girl. I will never tell her that though. I would not want cooties. We walked inside and Mom and Miss Denise were sitting in the kitchen. On the counter I could see my favourite food of all time, lasagne and root beer. I darted for the table and started gobbling it down.
"Whoa, Billie! You act as if I don't feed you,' said Mom.
Seri walked up and sat next to me. She looked at me and started laughing as I chugged my root beer.
"What's... so... funny?" I managed to ask while chewing my food.
"You're silly Billie, real silly. Thanks Mrs. Ollie for the food," said Seri.
Five years later. March 1982. Cafeteria of Pinole Valley Junior High
Billie's POV
I hate junior high. This has to be the worst year I have ever had. Dad's been in the hospital since mid-January. The doctor's diagnosed him with esophageal cancer last fall but he has been getting sicker. I am really scared. I do not know what is going to happen. What if he really is dying? My dad, dying. I was looking down at my feet, watching them take the familiar path when I ran into someone.
"Woah! Hey, man."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said helping him up. He had brown hair, skater cut, almost to his shoulders. He was tall, well, a lot taller then me and skinny. He was wearing a Black Sabbath hoodie.
"No, it's all right. I wasn't paying any attention," he said.
"Yeah, well uumm, you wanna eat lunch or something? It's the least I can do. My name's Billie Joe, by the way."
"Michael Pritchard, just call me Mike."
"Cool. So, uuhh, you like Black Sabbath?"
"Yeah, I just learned how to play Iron Man on the guitar."
We started heading over to my usual table with Serenity.
"You play guitar? Are you in a band or something?"
"No, I'm not in one. I wanna be in one though, but it's hard."
"Yeah. Oh, this is Serenity. Seri, this is mike."
"Hey, Mike. What's up?" asked Seri.
"Nothing much. So how long have you guys gone here?"
"Since fifth grade. You?"
"Same. Strange that we haven't met until today huh?"
"Yeah. Well at least we met now. Guess what, Seri? Mike can play the guitar."
"Cool, good thing you two have something in common." she said.
"You play too?" asked Mike.
"Yeah. My dad bought me a Fernandez strat this Christmas. I called it Blue."
"Cool. Are you in a band?"
"Nah, I've been trying to start one though. It's hard, not many people I know can play an instrument."
"Maybe we could, ya know, get one together."
"Really? That'd be cool."
"What's your number?"
I gave him my number. This guy is really cool. I cannot believe I might be able to start a band. Oh, I hope Dad can see us play. Wait, I got to visit Dad at the hospital after school today. Maybe Mike might want to come.
"Hey, are you doing anything after school today?"
"Nope, never am. Why?"
"Maybe you might wanna come with Seri and me to see my Dad?"
"Oh, alright. Well there's the bell. I'll meet you guys in the back by the gym. Bye, Billie. Bye, Seri. Nice to meet you guys."
"Bye, Mike," I said.
"Yeah, bye Michael," said Seri.
Six months later. September of 1982. Pinole Valley Junior High
Seri's POV
In the past six months, Billie and I have become really close with Mike. He is really sweet. Even thought we are a few months older than him, he acts like an older brother towards us. Since Mike and Billie both play guitar they had to settle it. Although Mike is really good at the guitar, Billie is better at it so Mike picked up the bass. He is really good at it and I think it fits him. It is hard these days to find a drummer so Billie got our friend, John Kiffmeyer to drum for them. They are named, Sweet Children. They only cover songs right now, like Black Sabbath, Ozzy, and other stuff like that. They are still young so I know they will start writing their own songs and music soon. Mr. Andy has not been doing too well. The doctors gave him two weeks left to live. I feel so miserable. He has been like a father to me, my entire life. I can't imagine how hard this must be on Billie and his family. Mr. Andy cannot die, can he? Sweet Children were supposed to have band practice today but Billie cancelled it. He has not said much lately. He asked me to go with him to the hospital after school today so, of course, I am. Maybe I can talk to him to cheer him up.
"Hey, Seri."
"Hey, Mike. How are you?"
Good, good. How's Bill?"
"Not so good. He's been really down lately."
"Yeah, he even called off band practice today."
"Well, we're going to visit Mr. Andy today."
"How is he? Is he holding up?"
"Doc's give him two weeks at best."
"Oh my God, no wonder Billie called off practice. Well, tell him I hope his Dad gets better."
"Will do."
Well, the rest of the day went by fast. I was zoned out through most of my classes. My thoughts were elsewhere. Like this afternoon, Billie and Mr. Andy. I hope that he will make it, but something deep down is telling me he will not. Damn pessimism. Damn cancer. Damn myself for not being able to cheer up my own friend. The bell rang and it was time for me to meet Billie on the playground. I walked outside onto the hot pavement and saw Billie a few feet away. He was wearing a faded, black hoodie, his head, hung over, looking at his feet, his reddish-brown hair covering up his face as he swung slowly back and forth, his feet dragging across the ground. I sat on the swing next to him.
"Hey, Billie."
"Oh. Hey, Seri."
"So , are we going to the hospital now?"
"Well yeah, but I want to tell you something first."
"Okay. What is it?"
Billie's mother, Ollie, just pilled up in the Armstrong family van and honked the horn, signalling for us to get in. Billie and I got off the swings and hopped into the van. It was a tight squeeze: David, Allen, Holly, Marcy, Anna, Billie, Mrs. Ollie and I had all crammed into the little econo-van.
"So, what was it you were going to ask me?"
"Oh, uuumm, nothing."
His green eyes glanced at me and then he quickly turned his head away to stare out of the window. I hated when he did that to me. How can someone say, 'Oh, I need to tell ya something,' and then go, 'Oh, never mind.' One of my major pet peeves.
Billie's POV
Mom and her wonderful timing. I really should tell her, but it is not right. I am not even fully comfortable with it. Mom started up the rusty, brown van and headed down the street.
"So, how was school?"
"It was god. Same old, same old,' said Seri.
I said nothing. I looked at my siblings' faces. None of us were happy. We were not even emotional. Just blank, empty. At least I am not alone with the way I feel. I hate hospital visits. Sure, most people say it is good because you get to check on loved ones and see how they are doing. I think it is horrible. Hospitals always have that smell. Smell of life and death. How can one place make someone the happiest person in the world and another, the most miserable. The pale, boring walls. The waiting rooms filled with out-of-date magazines. I hate it. No, I despise the hospital.
We visit Dad everyday now. The doctors say that he has two weeks to live and that is the best case scenario. How can they do that? How do you tell someone that the person they love will die in two weeks? I thin that doctors have no souls.
Dad looks horrible. He is in so much pain. I wish I could take his place, take away his misery, if only for one night. I would rather him finally rest in peace then to live the way he is living right now. He barely talks anymore, it is too hard for him. They feed him through a tube. I have not been hugged by him in over a month, again, too painful. I wish this were over. I wish I could just wake up from this horrid nightmare to see, my father, happy and healthy as a horse. I wish he could be healed and come home with us tonight. The house just is not the same without him. I can feel his presence in every room, knowing that he should be there. We finally enter the hospital parking lot and we all file out of the van. Mom leads us to the front desk.
"Hello?"
"Hi. I'm looking for Andrew Armstrong. Is he still in room 3407?"
"One second," the nurse checked her files, "No, he's in room 2205, E.R., just came out of surgery."
"Thank you."
We walked through the halls of the Emergency room. That smell, that scent is hanging in the air. I can hear a woman crying, beeping from machines, machines keeping them clinging to life. We round the corner and enter room 2205. There are three doctors pacing back and forth around the bed. I wonder why?
"Hello?" asked my mother.
"Oh, hello. You must be Mrs. Armstrong," said one of the doctors.
"Yes. So how is my husband?"
"He's alive."
"That's not what I meant."
"Can I speak to you in private?" he asked, hinting for them to leave.
"Sure. David? Marcy? Take your brothers and sisters to get something to eat."
"Okay," said David.
"Mom? Can I stay with Dad?" I asked.
"Sure. You and Serenity can stay. If you wanna go eat then meet them in the cafeteria, okay?"
"Yeah, mom."
Mom walked with the doctors into another room. My brothers and sisters walked out, leaving Serenity and I alone with my father.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hello, Mr. Andy," said Serenity.
Dad's eyes fluttered open. I could tell how much pain he was in.
"How was the surgery?"
He nodded his head.
"You remember that guitar you got me for Christmas?"
He nodded again.
"Yeah, well I can really play now. I even started a band with a few friends."
He smiled at me. I cannot believe he smiled at me.
"You know I love you Dad. You're going to be okay. You're going to get better and you'll come back home with us. Everything will be back to normal."
Dad looked down.
"I know it will. You're gonna make it because... because... because, you can't leave us," I started crying, "You can't leave mom and me and all of us, you just can't. Who's going to take care of us? Who?"
Tears were streaming down my face at this point. Dad pulled me into a hug.
"It... It'll be okay, s... son. I'll always... love you... and... And be with you," he whispered, breathing heavily.
"Y... you take care of mom now. And... and you keep up that... that music. It's in you... I... I know it is. I'll always love you."
With that I could feel his grip weaken and he leaned back onto the bed. His eyes looked up at Serenity and me one last time. Then I saw his eyes close, not to blink or rest, but permanently close. I ran out of the room.
Seri's POV
It was another bright, Sunday morning at Billie Joe's house. We were in the backyard playing on the swing set.
"Higher! Higher!" I shouted.
He nodded and pushed me as high as he could. I felt as if, in any second, I would go flying off the swing and directly into space. We played hide and seek, monsters and swam in his pool late into the afternoon. It started getting dark as my Mom called from the backdoor.
"Serenity! Billie Joe! Time for dinner!"
Yes, that is I, Serenity Blake. I am five years old. I got a best friend in the whole, wide world and that is Billie Joe. I have known him since forever. My mom and Mrs. Ollie have been friends since they were younger. I love going over to Billie's house. His family is so nice. I like hanging out with his older brother's and sister's: David, Allen, Marcy, Holly and Anna. They are so much fun. Mr. Andy, their dad, works all the time. He is a truck driver and he plays the drums in a jazz band. Their entire family is musical. A few weeks ago, Billie got to record a song called, Look For Love. It was really good. It is so cool that he was able to do that. I wish I could sing half as good as Billie. He can even play the piano. Whenever Mr. Andy is home, he spends time with he kids. I wish my Dad was like Mr. Andy. I would not know, I have never met him.
Billie's POV
Today was so much fun. I love it when Seri comes over. She is my best friend. She is so cool, even if she is a girl. I will never tell her that though. I would not want cooties. We walked inside and Mom and Miss Denise were sitting in the kitchen. On the counter I could see my favourite food of all time, lasagne and root beer. I darted for the table and started gobbling it down.
"Whoa, Billie! You act as if I don't feed you,' said Mom.
Seri walked up and sat next to me. She looked at me and started laughing as I chugged my root beer.
"What's... so... funny?" I managed to ask while chewing my food.
"You're silly Billie, real silly. Thanks Mrs. Ollie for the food," said Seri.
Five years later. March 1982. Cafeteria of Pinole Valley Junior High
Billie's POV
I hate junior high. This has to be the worst year I have ever had. Dad's been in the hospital since mid-January. The doctor's diagnosed him with esophageal cancer last fall but he has been getting sicker. I am really scared. I do not know what is going to happen. What if he really is dying? My dad, dying. I was looking down at my feet, watching them take the familiar path when I ran into someone.
"Woah! Hey, man."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said helping him up. He had brown hair, skater cut, almost to his shoulders. He was tall, well, a lot taller then me and skinny. He was wearing a Black Sabbath hoodie.
"No, it's all right. I wasn't paying any attention," he said.
"Yeah, well uumm, you wanna eat lunch or something? It's the least I can do. My name's Billie Joe, by the way."
"Michael Pritchard, just call me Mike."
"Cool. So, uuhh, you like Black Sabbath?"
"Yeah, I just learned how to play Iron Man on the guitar."
We started heading over to my usual table with Serenity.
"You play guitar? Are you in a band or something?"
"No, I'm not in one. I wanna be in one though, but it's hard."
"Yeah. Oh, this is Serenity. Seri, this is mike."
"Hey, Mike. What's up?" asked Seri.
"Nothing much. So how long have you guys gone here?"
"Since fifth grade. You?"
"Same. Strange that we haven't met until today huh?"
"Yeah. Well at least we met now. Guess what, Seri? Mike can play the guitar."
"Cool, good thing you two have something in common." she said.
"You play too?" asked Mike.
"Yeah. My dad bought me a Fernandez strat this Christmas. I called it Blue."
"Cool. Are you in a band?"
"Nah, I've been trying to start one though. It's hard, not many people I know can play an instrument."
"Maybe we could, ya know, get one together."
"Really? That'd be cool."
"What's your number?"
I gave him my number. This guy is really cool. I cannot believe I might be able to start a band. Oh, I hope Dad can see us play. Wait, I got to visit Dad at the hospital after school today. Maybe Mike might want to come.
"Hey, are you doing anything after school today?"
"Nope, never am. Why?"
"Maybe you might wanna come with Seri and me to see my Dad?"
"Oh, alright. Well there's the bell. I'll meet you guys in the back by the gym. Bye, Billie. Bye, Seri. Nice to meet you guys."
"Bye, Mike," I said.
"Yeah, bye Michael," said Seri.
Six months later. September of 1982. Pinole Valley Junior High
Seri's POV
In the past six months, Billie and I have become really close with Mike. He is really sweet. Even thought we are a few months older than him, he acts like an older brother towards us. Since Mike and Billie both play guitar they had to settle it. Although Mike is really good at the guitar, Billie is better at it so Mike picked up the bass. He is really good at it and I think it fits him. It is hard these days to find a drummer so Billie got our friend, John Kiffmeyer to drum for them. They are named, Sweet Children. They only cover songs right now, like Black Sabbath, Ozzy, and other stuff like that. They are still young so I know they will start writing their own songs and music soon. Mr. Andy has not been doing too well. The doctors gave him two weeks left to live. I feel so miserable. He has been like a father to me, my entire life. I can't imagine how hard this must be on Billie and his family. Mr. Andy cannot die, can he? Sweet Children were supposed to have band practice today but Billie cancelled it. He has not said much lately. He asked me to go with him to the hospital after school today so, of course, I am. Maybe I can talk to him to cheer him up.
"Hey, Seri."
"Hey, Mike. How are you?"
Good, good. How's Bill?"
"Not so good. He's been really down lately."
"Yeah, he even called off band practice today."
"Well, we're going to visit Mr. Andy today."
"How is he? Is he holding up?"
"Doc's give him two weeks at best."
"Oh my God, no wonder Billie called off practice. Well, tell him I hope his Dad gets better."
"Will do."
Well, the rest of the day went by fast. I was zoned out through most of my classes. My thoughts were elsewhere. Like this afternoon, Billie and Mr. Andy. I hope that he will make it, but something deep down is telling me he will not. Damn pessimism. Damn cancer. Damn myself for not being able to cheer up my own friend. The bell rang and it was time for me to meet Billie on the playground. I walked outside onto the hot pavement and saw Billie a few feet away. He was wearing a faded, black hoodie, his head, hung over, looking at his feet, his reddish-brown hair covering up his face as he swung slowly back and forth, his feet dragging across the ground. I sat on the swing next to him.
"Hey, Billie."
"Oh. Hey, Seri."
"So , are we going to the hospital now?"
"Well yeah, but I want to tell you something first."
"Okay. What is it?"
Billie's mother, Ollie, just pilled up in the Armstrong family van and honked the horn, signalling for us to get in. Billie and I got off the swings and hopped into the van. It was a tight squeeze: David, Allen, Holly, Marcy, Anna, Billie, Mrs. Ollie and I had all crammed into the little econo-van.
"So, what was it you were going to ask me?"
"Oh, uuumm, nothing."
His green eyes glanced at me and then he quickly turned his head away to stare out of the window. I hated when he did that to me. How can someone say, 'Oh, I need to tell ya something,' and then go, 'Oh, never mind.' One of my major pet peeves.
Billie's POV
Mom and her wonderful timing. I really should tell her, but it is not right. I am not even fully comfortable with it. Mom started up the rusty, brown van and headed down the street.
"So, how was school?"
"It was god. Same old, same old,' said Seri.
I said nothing. I looked at my siblings' faces. None of us were happy. We were not even emotional. Just blank, empty. At least I am not alone with the way I feel. I hate hospital visits. Sure, most people say it is good because you get to check on loved ones and see how they are doing. I think it is horrible. Hospitals always have that smell. Smell of life and death. How can one place make someone the happiest person in the world and another, the most miserable. The pale, boring walls. The waiting rooms filled with out-of-date magazines. I hate it. No, I despise the hospital.
We visit Dad everyday now. The doctors say that he has two weeks to live and that is the best case scenario. How can they do that? How do you tell someone that the person they love will die in two weeks? I thin that doctors have no souls.
Dad looks horrible. He is in so much pain. I wish I could take his place, take away his misery, if only for one night. I would rather him finally rest in peace then to live the way he is living right now. He barely talks anymore, it is too hard for him. They feed him through a tube. I have not been hugged by him in over a month, again, too painful. I wish this were over. I wish I could just wake up from this horrid nightmare to see, my father, happy and healthy as a horse. I wish he could be healed and come home with us tonight. The house just is not the same without him. I can feel his presence in every room, knowing that he should be there. We finally enter the hospital parking lot and we all file out of the van. Mom leads us to the front desk.
"Hello?"
"Hi. I'm looking for Andrew Armstrong. Is he still in room 3407?"
"One second," the nurse checked her files, "No, he's in room 2205, E.R., just came out of surgery."
"Thank you."
We walked through the halls of the Emergency room. That smell, that scent is hanging in the air. I can hear a woman crying, beeping from machines, machines keeping them clinging to life. We round the corner and enter room 2205. There are three doctors pacing back and forth around the bed. I wonder why?
"Hello?" asked my mother.
"Oh, hello. You must be Mrs. Armstrong," said one of the doctors.
"Yes. So how is my husband?"
"He's alive."
"That's not what I meant."
"Can I speak to you in private?" he asked, hinting for them to leave.
"Sure. David? Marcy? Take your brothers and sisters to get something to eat."
"Okay," said David.
"Mom? Can I stay with Dad?" I asked.
"Sure. You and Serenity can stay. If you wanna go eat then meet them in the cafeteria, okay?"
"Yeah, mom."
Mom walked with the doctors into another room. My brothers and sisters walked out, leaving Serenity and I alone with my father.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hello, Mr. Andy," said Serenity.
Dad's eyes fluttered open. I could tell how much pain he was in.
"How was the surgery?"
He nodded his head.
"You remember that guitar you got me for Christmas?"
He nodded again.
"Yeah, well I can really play now. I even started a band with a few friends."
He smiled at me. I cannot believe he smiled at me.
"You know I love you Dad. You're going to be okay. You're going to get better and you'll come back home with us. Everything will be back to normal."
Dad looked down.
"I know it will. You're gonna make it because... because... because, you can't leave us," I started crying, "You can't leave mom and me and all of us, you just can't. Who's going to take care of us? Who?"
Tears were streaming down my face at this point. Dad pulled me into a hug.
"It... It'll be okay, s... son. I'll always... love you... and... And be with you," he whispered, breathing heavily.
"Y... you take care of mom now. And... and you keep up that... that music. It's in you... I... I know it is. I'll always love you."
With that I could feel his grip weaken and he leaned back onto the bed. His eyes looked up at Serenity and me one last time. Then I saw his eyes close, not to blink or rest, but permanently close. I ran out of the room.
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