Chapter 11

"Thanks," Marilyn said, "I will."

"So?" Anna asked when they were out in the hall, "what is going on? You looked like someone died."

"Not quite," Marilyn said, "my dad had a heart attack. He's going to be OK, but - "

"That is good, right?" Birungi put her hand on Marilyn's arm. "Your doctors will make him strong again."

"Yes, "but the insurance company says they aren't covered."

"Oh no," Anna gasped and covered her mouth. "what about your university?"

"Gone," Marilyn moaned, "all of it gone."

"But you have until December to find a job and make some money to pay for your tuition. You can come live in my room." Anna counted on her fingers, "We'll get you to Student Services and they'll help with a resume and... Shit! This isn't fair, you'd be a great social worker. Maybe there are some scholarships you can apply for. I'll go back and ask." She headed back to the office while Birungi led Marilyn to the hall. She didn't have to wait in line for the coffee so she was sitting down with Marilyn when the students from the class mobbed around her and demanded to know what had happened.

"Here are some forms." Anna appeared at her side. "Don't worry about them now, I'll help you with them later. The due date is next week. They said there's no guarantee. With interest rates low, there isn't a lot of money."

Birungi sat and drank coffee. She didn't say a word, but her hand never left Marilyn's

They dragged Marilyn to the Flying Frog for karaoke. Marilyn only drank water. The smallest loss of inhibition might send her over into the abyss. She only sang a couple of songs and shook her head when Mack asked if she'd play drums for the second set.

"Something's wrong," Mack sat down across from her. "You can tell me, or I'll give them free booze until they tell me."

"My dad had a heart attack." Marilyn marveled she could now say those words without feeling like she'd shatter into a million pieces. She explained about the money.

"Well, I can do something for you," Mack said. "One of my servers quit, they're always quitting. You can work evenings so the tips are better. You can even sing karaoke Thursday night and help with the band. Start as soon as you think you're ready."

"Shouldn't you check with Cher first?"

"She won't mind, really. Come by for lunch again and we'll sort out the details."

***

"Do you have any serving experience?" Cher looked at Marilyn, "You'll need to watch when it gets crowded. It does get crowded some weekends. The big thing is to get the drinks right then get them quickly. It does no one any good if you rush and get the wrong order. If you need to write it down at first, do THAT. Don't apologize or the guys will try to take advantage of you. They will try to take advantage of you anyway, but if you keep it professional you have half a chance."

Bo wandered out of the back room.

"You're the one who's been playing my drums."

"That's right,"

"At least you didn't move them around, you got some sense." He put a couple of sticks down on the table in front of her. "Let's hear you."

Marilyn walked over and sat down behind the drums.

"Well," Bo said, "play."

"There's no music."

"Play to the music in your head," Bo sounded like he was ready to give up on her. Marilyn closed her eyes and started playing. Bo came over and corrected the way she held the drumsticks. She started again, but he waved her silent.

"Put some music behind her."

Mack picked up his guitar and Cher sat at the piano.

"Just keep the beat," Mack said and counted her in. Bo muttered and complained through the entire three songs they played before Marilyn stood up.

"You show me how it's done." She held out the drumsticks.

Bo sat at the drums and gave a four beat. He played around the music, when Mack lagged a little Bo pushed him back to the pace, when Cher ran ahead he pulled her back.

"How do I learn to play like that?" Marilyn asked.

"If she can hear it, she can play it," Mack said.

"Your kid can play better drums." Bo shook his head.

"Not if you teach her." Mack stuck out his lip stubbornly.

"What do you think, Cher?" Bo asked.

"Don't ask me. I'm just the hired help."

Mack opened his mouth to argue, but Cher crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Your call, Bo," Mack said. "She'll serve the early set, but we're losing people in the second set."

"You. Be here every day." Bo pointed his finger at Marilyn. "Listen to music all the time. Sleep with music in your ears, shower, walk, eat with the music playing, hell fuck with the music in your head. If you don't hear the music, you can't play." He got up and walked into the back room.

Crista picked up Bo's sticks and banged on the drums. Bo was right. The kid played better than she did.