Danny

Mr. Arthur waves his hands around, and the choir stops.  "Okay, good.  Let's do that again, but this time a little more gently.  Right now, it sounds a little too plodding, let's get more of a sway in there, more soulful, a kind of- reeds bending in the breeze, kind of thing.  One, two!"

Rehearsal is almost over.  I'm sitting down in one of the front pews, waiting for the conductor to say I can go home and start my homework so Ms. Rydinger can't get mad at me again. I've been here for three and a half hours straight, including Sunday school and the late service, and I'm pretty bored.  My phone's battery is almost dead, so I can't see to play Tetris, and Mr. Arthur isn't as fun to watch from behind as he is from the front, thanks to all the funny conducting faces he makes.  Man, I wish I had my yo-yo.  This is why I wanted to bring it, but Mom wouldn't let me.

Mom sure was jumpy this morning.  I found her asleep on the couch when I woke up, but her bedroom door was closed just like last night, and still she wouldn't let me go in.  Maybe it's to do with the guy who's coming over.  When's he getting here anyway?  Is that who was in her room?  I'm confused.

She didn't even come to church with me, made me ride with Cousin Roxie again, and I had to listen to a lot of dumb country music all the way there- and it's a looooong drive.   Brooklyn Tab is all the way over in Brooklyn (duh), so it always takes forever to get there and back. Church is a whole day thing. Some of Roxie's music fun, I admit; I kinda like the "Two Pina Coladas" guy, but she was in a John Denver mood today, so I had to sit there and listen to my cousin sing "Take Me Home, Country Road" out of tune with him for a whole HOUR. 

Poor Roxie.  She likes music, but music doesn't like her.

I read the words of my solo to myself, then sing them softly.  "O Holy Night," I mumble, "the stars are brightly shi-ning..."

The Christmas show is next Sunday; we've just started using the microphones, and the idea of my voice ringing all over the place in this great big crowded sanctuary is scaring me even more than before.

I'm just glad we're not working on my song anymore today.  We sure worked on it a lot though, and my voice got weaker and more babyish every time.  The other kids who have solos sound way better, but then again, their songs are way easier too.  For crying out loud, the kid sitting next to me is singing "Away in a Manger," but they stuck me with "O Holy Night." 

Baka.

My hands are shaking at the thought, making the lyrics sheet in my hand rattle a little.  I mean, I like singing with my friends and with Mom, there's nothing I like better.  But ten thousand people go here every Sunday; and if I have to sing for all of them next week, with the whole choir behind me as the backup, I may not make it. That's too many eyes and ears.

Mr. Arthur puts his baton down and turns, looks at us soloist kids, realizes we've been waiting for him all this time.  Finally, he gives us the word, and away we go.  Parents are standing outside the sanctuary doors, waiting to collect each of us.  Hopefully Mom's not here yet, I still want my song to be a secret.

My phone buzzes that very minute.  Stifling a yawn, I squint at the little screen.  But the long text I read doesn't make a lot of sense:

"Danny we're just now parking we'll be in to collect you in a few minutes so are you just dictating the damn thing uh-huh how ridiculous why don't you just call him and be done with it unbelievable what do you mind oh sorry did that pick it up yes oh dear is it still doing it yes oh then I'll stop now sorry thank you oh wait no"

Mom dictates her texts sometimes, but I've never seen one like this- and with a bad word like that!  I cover my mouth and snicker.  She said "damn."  That's so bad.

Or was someone else talking? 

A second later I get another text, this one much shorter.  She definitely typed this one on purpose.  "Meet us in the lobby.  We're almost inside."

So I get my Sunday school stuff together, stuff the folded-up lyrics into my pants pocket, and walk out of the sanctuary.  I stand around waiting for a few minutes, when I see Mom hustling my way.

"Hello, Daniel-san," she greets me. 

"Konnichiwa, Mom!"

We hug, and then she starts explaining what took her so long, but I barely hear what she just said.  I'm still giggling about the text.  "Mom, you said a bad word!"

"What?  What'd I say?"

"You said," and I spell it out in a whisper, "D-A-M-N."

"Oh, no, that wasn't me, that was our guest."

"Our guest?  Is he here?"

"He's waiting outside, come on, let's go home.  How was rehearsal?"

"It was okay."  My stomach rumbles.  "Can we get White Castle, please?" I ask hopefully.

"Not today, honey, I've got a feeling the guy who's staying with us won't be too keen on fast food."

Aw, man.  I haven't even seen this guy and I already don't like him.  No one could possibly not like White Castle.

But then we walk out the double doors and say goodbye to some of the people standing weirdly around for no reason, Mom looks around, confused. 

"Where did he go?" she whispers to herself.

"Oh, hey, Julia!" Roxie calls from behind through the open door.  Roxie's really involved with this Christmas thing, does a lot of the costuming stuff, so she winds up staying later than most.

"Hi, I was wondering if you'd stick around some," Mom smiles.  "Thanks so much for taking Danny up here for me.  Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Not a thing, I was happy to do it," she says, mussing my longish hair so that her ruby ring actually gets caught in it and tugs my hair a little.  The minute she takes her hand off my head, apologizing, I smooth it back down again with a glare.  Oh, I hate that ring.  It's pretty, I guess, but not when it pulls my hair.

Mom scans the street again, then asks, "Would you at least like to join us for dinner?  It'll be just the three of us- me, Danny, and the fellow you had so many questions about yesterday, assuming of course he doesn't feel the need to go on the prowl tonight."

I look up, squinting.  On the prowl?

"Oh, Julia, I would, except I've got a few business matters to tie up tonight, and dinner plans of my own."  Roxie winks.  "I'll see the guy on Tuesday.  He'll be here that long, won't he?"

Mom seems to tense up a little, but then she nods her head.  "It's very likely he will."

"Good.  I at least want to lay eyes on this guy, see what all the buzz is about.  See you tomorrow, Mini-Prince!"

Grr.

When Roxie heads toward the parking garages, Mom's smile falters into a worried frown.  "All right, where'd he go?"

"Who?  The man?"  I start peering against the freezing wind, looking for anyone who might be our guest.

"Mm-hm.  This is so weird, I left him right here!"  She bites her finger.  "Oh, God, I hope he didn't run off-"

"I'm here, darling."

My stomach does a funny sort of flip inside me.  The voice comes from behind, but it's the way it sounds that makes me jump.  It's soft, mellow, and musical.  Like a clarinet.  A British clarinet.

I whirl around and come face to face- with him.  The guy Mom kissed, and then ran away from like he was going to shoot us or something.  It's because of that whole thing I'm not sure how to feel about seeing him here and now.  He's in regular clothes now, and he's got Mom's aviator sunglasses over his face, so he doesn't look nearly as dorky.  In fact, I'd even say he looks kinda cool. 

That mustache, though...

Mom turns, but she seems more relieved than surprised. "Oh, good, there you are."  She puts her hand on my shoulder.  "I believe you two have already met, but, uh- for the sake of official introductions- this is my son, Danny, and Danny, this is Mr. M-"

"Mercury, I know," I nod.  "Hello again."

"Hello, Danny," he half-smiles, putting his hand out (wow, his hands are big) to shake mine.  "Danny Phantom, wasn't it?"

"That's me," I grin nervously.  We shake hands. So far, so good.  At least I'm not annoying him right now.

Mom smiles a little at us.  Mr. Mercury looks back up at her, still half-smiling.  For a second or two they just stand there like that until Mom clears her throat and says, "Come on, let's go ahead and make our way toward the car, get out of this wind."

Why do they keep doing that, just spontaneously stare at each other for no reason?  It's so awkward.

Although Mom and I keep talking about church and what I learned in Sunday school, he says nothing at all. He turns his face down as he walks along, kind of hunches a little. I can't see his expression, but I can tell he isn't very happy. Wonder what's wrong. I think of asking, but at the same time he's acting like he just wants to be left alone right now, so I guess I'll save it for later.

Mr. Mercury must be able to feel me staring. All of a sudden he glances over at me. Without realizing what I'm doing I press a little closer to Mom's side, pushing my glasses further up my nose, and look the other way. I don't mean to stare, I'm just confused. This is so weird. Wasn't this guy from the past? What's he doing here?

I tap Mom's shoulder then and whisper, "Mom, why's he h-"

"Danny, it's rude to whisper," she informs me.  "Tell me later, please."

"Dang it," I huff.  "Okay- uh, I mean, yes, ma'am."

That makes Mr. Mercury chuckle a little to himself, but that's all.  When we get to the car, Mom finally puts her hand on his shoulder and asks very softly, but not so softly that it's a whisper, "Are you all right?"

"Mm," he hums, nodding quickly.  After a second or two, he murmurs, "It's- just like you said."

"What is?"

"Nothing," he waves his hand.  "Sorry, I'm just- everything's a bit overwhelming at present, I suppose."

I sigh.  Well, if everything's okay, that means we can stop being quiet.  I hate it when things are quiet and awkward, it's like a rubber band being pulled too tight; I'm always afraid someone's just going to snap.  I need to work off the anxious feelings from earlier anyway.

"Mom, can we please turn on the music?" I ask once we're all in the car. 

Mom looks at our visitor.  "You don't mind?"

"Sure, go ahead," he says, waving his hand.  "Put it on anything, I don't care."

"Prince, please!" I sing.  Mr. Mercury chuckles again.  He apparently thinks everything I say is funny. I don't know why.

'"I'm putting the eighties playlist on shuffle, and we'll go from there," Mom says.  "But we'll definitely start with Prince."

"Yes!" I punch the air.

So, with "Little Red Corvette" playing around us, we back out of parking and pull out onto the road.  Before long, Mr. Mercury takes off his sunglasses and rubs the indents against the bridge of his nose, staring out the window.

"My God," he breathes at last. 

Mom looks at the back of his head.  "What?"

"Just like you said," Mr. Mercury murmurs again.  "They're gone."

Mom looks at him a moment, then turns back to the road.  With a sigh, she nods.  "Mm-hm."

"What's gone?" I ask.

Mom adjusts the rear view mirror to make eye contact with me, and raises a finger to her lips.  I huff, frustrated.  So not only should I not whisper, I can't even talk right now either.  Whatever.

I try to see what it is he's looking at, but I can't figure it out.  He's staring at the New York skyline, but there's nothing new to see, to me, that is.  I don't get it.

I watch him as best as I can from the back, full of questions.  Why is he here?  What's he got to do with us?  Why is Mom so weird around him?

And anyway, who is this guy in the first place?

I plan to find out.  If Mom won't tell me, someone else will.  Lauren, maybe, or her dad.  Or Uncle John.  Maybe he knows. 

I rub my hands together, smiling to myself.  Starting now, I'm on a mission.