A Song for Ezra (ONC 2021)(manxman)✅

Elderly Woman

When I first heard Pearl Jam's song, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town, I first thought the title was "Hearts and Thoughts They Fade Away," because Eddie Vedder sang those words over and over. I later found out it was just the chorus.

As I drove to my therapy appointment, tuned to a classic rock station, I immediately recognized Eddie Vedder's voice and couldn't believe I'd never heard the song before. Had I been living under a rock? Sometimes I thought I did. For the rest of the day, I couldn't get the song out of my head and kept singing the chorus, even during my therapy appointment. My therapist, Alicia, was used to me perseverating on many things, like a song, but even she grew impatient with me at times. She claimed I was "wasting precious, valuable therapy time;" whereas I didn't find it precious or valuable at all.

"If you're not going to sit and focus, then there's no sense in you staying here," she said. "Go home and come back next week."

"Are you having a bad day?" I asked since I couldn't understand why she didn't want me to sing. Everybody liked my voice. Singing was the only thing I was good at.

Oh, I was good at poker, too. My uncle David said I had a "great poker face."

"No," Alicia replied. "You haven't responded to anything I've asked you. You're not listening, and you're singing so loud the people next door can hear you. You have a beautiful voice, but you need to know when to use it."

"What if I sing quieter?"

Before she answered, I sang in a whisper, "hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away."

"Stop it, Ezra. How about you sing when you get home?"

"You're angry, aren't you?"

"Sit down, Ezra."

Although I sat down, I didn't listen to a word she said and hummed the song in my head. I'd say that was a wasted therapy session.

Instead of changing my muddy socks, I picked up my guitar and played and sang along with the music in my ears. I performed as if I had an audience, even though I was alone in my room.

Before I went to the senior center, I always listened to this song, the third song on my playlist. I then sang it, playing my guitar, at least three times. If I didn't follow this ritual, then my day never went well. I'd get a flat tire, or one of my senior friends would be home sick. One time, eighty-year-old Raymond died.

Facing the window, I sang the first sentence for the third time that morning, "I seem to recognize your face..." As I made my way to the chorus, I spun around to see the new tenant standing in my doorway. I instantly stopped playing, my cheeks burning, not prepared for a real live audience.

"I... I was on my way out and heard you singing," Levi said. "You've got an incredible  voice."

He caught me completely off guard, so much so I was speechless, stumped on what to say. I could have said thank you, but no words came out.

"Your guitar's out of tune, though," he said.

"No, it's not," I said. I popped my air pods out of my ears and strummed an A chord. "Eww, that's painful. You're right. How embarrassing. You saw me singing with a badly tuned guitar. I'm not very good at tuning guitars. My uncle David usually does it, but he's already left for work."

"Yeah, but your voice made up for it," Levi said, reaching for my guitar. "I'll tune it for you."

My cheeks burned, so I knew I was blushing, all the more reason to be embarrassed. I zipped up my hoodie all the way to my neck, as if that would hide my redness. As Levi draped my guitar strap over his shoulder, I searched my top dresser drawer for a clean pair of socks.