Drumbeats into My Heart

39. Seth Becomes a Drummer

I'm so excited for this drum circle thing I somehow woke up at six this morning. Then I had to wait like a zillion hours, during which I was completely useless because I couldn't focus on anything. It's a good thing I finished my homework already.

By the time eleven-thirty hits, I'm out the door. I channel my inner Lance Armstrong to bike to Jordi's house as fast as I can. By the time I lock up my bike in front of her complex, I'm a sweaty mess. Maybe I should have taken her up on her offer to pick me up. Thank goodness I put on extra deodorant.

I knock on her door and push the damp hair off my forehead.

She opens the door almost immediately, blue eyes almost glowing and smile as big as mine.

"Are you as excited as I am?" I ask, adjusting my hold on my bike helmet.

She glances at the wall clock. "I would have said yes, but you're an hour early! So I think the excitement award goes to you."

I chuckle self-consciously. "I couldn't wait any longer. I was about to die of impatience."

"Well, I'm glad you're here. I can show you some drum basics while Dad finishes getting ready."

From somewhere behind Jordi, I hear his belly laugh filling the room.

She steps aside to let me in and rolls her eyes to where he's sitting in front of their computer. "Apparently watching funny pet videos is part of the process," she whispers.

"This is the best montage of puppies falling asleep in their food," her dad exclaims.

"It puts him in a good mood," Jordi says, still whispering.

"My mom needs to start watching them, then," I remark. "Hi, Mr. McKay!"

He gives me a quick wave before returning to his videos.

"Come on." Jordi grabs my hand and leads me to her room. I try really hard not to get all giddy and excited, especially in the pants. Our first kiss was in her room. I wouldn't mind doing it again.

"This is a djembe." She picks up a wooden drum and sets it in front of her desk chair.

Drum. Right. No kissing.

"Does this mean we're not using buckets?" I quip.

She chuckles. "Nope. Real drums."

I examine the instrument. It's bigger than I expect, about knee-height, and has nice carvings on it. Small scratches mar it some places, indicating it's been well-used. The top is covered by what looks like an animal hide stretched out by ropes.

"Have a seat." She pats the chair and sits on the bed.

I settle in front of the drum, now only minimally disappointed we won't be kissing. This drum is so cool.

She proceeds to show me how to slap the drum in different ways to produce different tones. It's not very easy, but I'm determined to learn.

Ten minutes before one, her dad appears in her doorway. "Ready to head out, kids?" He rubs his hands together. "I know I am!"

"Ready when you are, sir."

"Listen, Seth, since you're about to become a fellow drummer today, you can call me Dave. As much as I get a kick out of being called sir, it kind of makes me feel old, y'know?"

I nod vigorously. "Dave. Got it."

He gives me an easy smile. "I'll start packing up the car."

"Already packed," Jordi chirps. "I woke up too early, so I went ahead and put all the gear in the car. Except for this." She points to the drum in front of me.

His brows shoot up. "Okay then, I guess we'll head out."

I secretly smile at the thought that she was up early just like me, eager to start the day.

***

We arrive in some small town called Brookfall, where most of the land is either hills or orchards. The town square is an interesting mix of restaurants, small shops, and modest office buildings. We're in the courtyard of one such office building that's closed on Sundays.

I help them unload a bunch of instruments and chairs, plus a big umbrella. Other people show up too, unloading their own drums and erecting popup canopies for shade. A lot of them seem to know each other. They each settle in some random spot while maintaining a loose circle.

At precisely two o'clock, Dave welcomes all the attendees. He doesn't waste much time on words or ceremony. He raises his hands above his drum, and with a quick flourish, begins slapping an easy rhythm to get things started. A few seconds later, another man matches his beat, then a woman adds the sounds of an African shaker to the mix. Before long, everyone is pounding their own beats to the rhythm, causing the entire courtyard to pulse and thrum.

Jordi is already part of the aural alchemy happening around us, so I throw myself in too. I start banging my hands against the borrowed drum, the way Jordi showed me. Or at least some approximation of what she showed me. It doesn't matter anyway, because the syncopated rhythm of twenty other drums drowns out all my mistakes.

I sway with the cadence, feeling each beat in my bones.

This. Is. Awesome!

I close my eyes, feeling the vibrations to my very core. This. This is everything. My problems don't matter. The issues of the world don't matter. I am the drum. I am my neighbor. My neighbor is me. We are all the drum. We are connected, sharing the same heartbeat. I don't know these people, but all of us are united by this reverberant, soul-entwining tempo.

Unity.

I can't describe this vibe any other way.

The rhythm of readers pounding on that vote button is a lovely sound as well. :)