The Enchanted Life of Adam Hope - By Rhonda Riley Page 0,145

by ten. They complained of their early curfew, but when we stood firm, they relented without much protest.

One Friday night, Adam shook me awake soon after I’d gone to sleep. He pressed his finger to his lips. His other hand covered my mouth. “Gracie and Rosie have just left. Let’s surprise them and go with them.”

“What?”

He led me out of bed to the front porch. “See, we’ll have to hurry.” He pointed down the driveway. In the light of a full moon, I could make out Gracie and Rosie hurrying toward the highway. The clock glowed eleven o’clock. I started for the front door, pissed.

“Not yet. Go get dressed first. I’ll get Lil and Sarah ready,” Adam said. “We need to see where they are going—all of us.”

As I changed clothes, I heard Lil’s and Sarah’s voices.

“Don’t,” Adam whispered to them. “It’ll spoil the surprise if you turn on the lights.”

Moments later, as the four of us walked silently down the driveway, we could see Gracie and Rosie clearly in silhouette under the big oak by the highway, their guitar cases propped beside them. They were sneaking out to play music? My anger began to slip. Adam grinned next to me. It had been a long time since we had all been outside at night together. Sarah squeezed my hand and tried not to giggle. A cool wind lifted my skirt. We marched side by side, holding hands.

“Shit!” Rosie hissed when she looked over her shoulder and spotted us.

Gracie, who’d picked up her guitar and stepped closer to the road to peer north toward town, whirled around, her mouth a dark O of surprise.

“We’re going out with you!” Sarah ran ahead to hug Rosie.

“We’re not going anywhere. We were just out for a walk.” Rosie swatted Sarah away.

“Walking your guitars, that’s a good one!” Adam laughed.

Lil joined Sarah in a little jig and chorus of “We’re going out! We’re going out!”

An old, battered station wagon with wooden panels pulled up slowly, its lights out. The driver, a blond boy in a white shirt, got out and stared wordlessly at the six of us. “Daddy, please!” Gracie whispered as Adam stepped up to the boy and held out his hand.

“Thank you, it’s so nice that you’re letting us come along. We don’t get out much,” Adam said.

The boy stared at Adam’s outstretched hand, baffled. Adam had the advantage of about five inches and at least fifty pounds on him.

“It’s okay, Keith.” Rosie’s voice was flat with resignation.

Keith looked at all of us. The moon shone so bright I could see every hair on his head. He gave us a determined grimace of a smile and then shook Adam’s hand.

We piled in. Rosie and Gracie slipped their guitars in the back of the station wagon, then climbed into the front seat with Keith. Adam and I got in, pulling the younger ones onto our laps. The young man next to us in the backseat reached quickly behind the seat and put something away. “This is Andy. Be nice,” Rosie said to me and Adam.

“I will,” Andy croaked and pressed himself closer to the window.

“Lights, son.”

“Thank you, sir.” Keith turned on his lights and we were off.

I dared not look at Adam. I bit my lip all the way into town to keep from laughing.

Skinny Andy beside me cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses every mile or so. Rosie turned several times to mutter and slap at Lil, who squirmed and kicked her seat. Otherwise, we were silent until we reached the first streetlights of Gainesville.

“We were going to this place in town where people get together and play music. We’re playing there tonight,” Gracie said with flat, offended dignity. “If we don’t sign up early enough, all we can get is the later time slot.”

We pulled up outside what looked like an ordinary house. A few dozen cars lined the street. Gracie led us down a short, dark hall with random squiggled psychedelic colors painted on the black walls, and into a large, dimly lit room. The place smelled of smoke and beer and another, unfamiliar sweetness. Small tables crowded the room of about forty people. No one there looked over the age of thirty. This was nothing like a Clarion picking party.

We were obviously Ma and Pa Yoakum with our gang of young’uns, but after a few quick glances of interest, everyone returned to their drinks and cigarettes. Keith and Andy scooted off to get extra chairs. We sat crowded