Drumbeats into My Heart

55. Seth's Gifts

A drum. Jordi had given me my very own drum. It's a little scuffed at the bottom, but it's clean and sounds really good. I don't even mind the purple glitter that adorns its fiberglass shell.

I hit the drum's head in the center again, producing a resonant boom. Then I slap the edge, which yields a clear popping tone. It sounds perfect.

"What is that noise?" Mom enters the living room and stops short when she sees the purple glittery drum between my knees. "Oh! A... drum? Did Jordi give that to you?"

I'm too thrilled with this gift to notice the edge in her tone. "Yeah! Isn't it cool?" I smack the drum a few more times.

"Well... it certainly is... colorful."

I can tell she's holding back her usual critical commentary, which I appreciate more than she knows.

"Thanks for the iPod, Mom." I wave the white box in the air. "This is really cool, too. I mean, it seriously is. This can hold four times as much music as my old player. I won't have to swap out tunes anymore."

She gives me one of her rare grins, her face practically glowing. "Your father wanted to get some other brand, but I said this is what all the kids have nowadays."

The kids nowadays actually have spiffy new phones with unlimited data plans, and they just stream everything all day long, but I don't tell her that. I know she's squirreling away every spare penny we have for my college fund, and unlimited data just isn't a necessity in her eyes.

I stand up and hug her. "It's perfect, Mom."

She squeezes me tightly, and for longer than is usual for her undemonstrative self. Then with a noisy sniffle, she releases me and whirls around to return to the laundry room.

That was nice. I wish she wouldn't consider showing emotions as weakness. Maybe we'd be closer then.

After spending a couple hours in my room figuring out and loading up my new iPod, I close my door and turn my attention back to the drum. Memories of that magical day at the drum circle fill my brain.

Scooting forward in my chair, I position the drum between my knees, tilting it slightly away from me the way Jordi showed me.

"Tilting it like this allows the sound to come out the bottom instead of being muffled," she had explained.

She'd touched my hands a lot during that lesson. I'm kind of surprised I learned anything at all considering how distracted by that I was.

I close my eyes to recall one of the beats from the drum circle, then I open them and began to play.

Well, I try to, anyway.

I sound terrible.

I frown and try a different beat but get the same result. My hands are clumsy, and I can't seem to hold the rhythm. It's so strange, because I thought I had sounded fantastic in the drum circle.

Maybe that's part of the magic. With so many good players in the group leading and keeping time, even the beginners sound amazing in the mix.

I push the drum away and sigh. I guess I'm not a natural like I first thought. I'm going to have to learn like everyone else.

It's a shame I can't learn with Jordi anymore.

A lump forms in my throat. I was so stupid yesterday. I really should call and apologize. I've been putting it off with the excuse that she wouldn't have wanted to talk to me yesterday, but maybe today she's cooled off. Maybe today she'll be in the right mindset to listen to my reasons for saying what I said.

Before I can psych myself out, I dial her number.

And wait.

She doesn't answer. The mechanical voicemail greeting comes on, so I end the call without leaving a message. What I need to tell her doesn't belong in a voicemail message.

It's a good thing the voicemail greeting is the default robo-voice, because if it was hers, I might end up redialing it all day long just to listen to it.

*insert poignant yet chuckle-worthy vote reminder here*