Redwater's Secret

Memories and Introductions

September 23, 1964. Redwater, Tennessee.

Soft murmuring could be heard from the downstairs living room. His father had told him to stay in his room, as this meeting was important business. However, curiosity was bubbling up in the young child's gut. He just had to go look, he couldn't bear it! So, the child slowly got up from his bed, fearing if he moved too quickly the floor would creak. The house seemed to still, almost as if it was watching his actions. Almost as if it was whispering, "Don't do that! You know what your father would say!" The young boy continued on anyway.

He grabbed his blanket as he slipped out of bed. He hoped that it would provide warmth, as the house was very cold. It also made him feel more secure. As much as the boy tried being quiet, the floor creaked under his weight. He cringed every time one of them was too loud. Slowly pushing his door open, the boy stepped out of his room. The hallway was dark, the only light being made from the candles downstairs. He sighed softly, releasing a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. The house breathed along with him, the roof's panels shaking as the storm outside raged on.

The house was old, shuttering and writhing with every forceful raindrop hitting it. The child used this to his advantage, making his footsteps move in time with the groans of the old house. It took the child ten minutes to walk to the top of the stairs. Pulling his blanket tighter around him, he grabbed the railing. It took him another five minutes to make his way down. He only stopped when he could finally hear and see what was going on.

The boy's eyes landed on his father, who looked furious. Cladded in robes, the man raised his voice. "I don't care what relationship you have with her, Harold!" He stood up suddenly, almost doubling over. "She went against the code, our church, everything we stand for!"

The boy winced at his father's harsh tone, and glanced at the man who he assumes is Harold. With tears streaming down his face, Harold replied in a weak voice. "I... I know, I know that. I know that more than any of you here. However, I can't help but wonder if there's another way-"

Harold was cut off by a harsh slap to the face. The boy gasped, rather loudly, and his father glanced up the stair well. The other adults followed his gaze, their eyes widening when they noticed him there. After a moment, one of them asks, "What are you going to do, Stephen? He's been eavesdropping. Who knows what he's heard?"

"Why aren't you in bed?" The boy's father asked, his voice booming inside the small space. The boy couldn't find his voice. "Well?" His father continued, "Answer me!"

The boy shivered, gripping his blanket so tightly. He noticed his knuckles turning white. The child's head started spinning, and he felt like he would pass out. Before he could muster any sort of word, his father was ascending up the stairs.

Realizing what was happening, the boy screamed and ran back to his room as fast as he could. Locking the door, he hid under his bed. His father's angry grumbles could be heard from outside the room. Something along the lines of, "That good for nothing boy. I knew we shouldn't have met here."

The boy was lucky that night. Luckily, he managed to escape his father. Crying softly to himself, he fell asleep under the bed. In the morning, his dad would be there with a switch.

October 20, 1995. Redwater, Tennessee.

"One, two, three, four!" And with four stick clicks, the band was off. The metal signs that adorned the garage walls shaking, adding to the volume of the music. Cherry Whittaker, Rocco Wagner, Giovanni Moretti, and Jackie Clark are performing for their biggest fan. Graffitied road signs are covered with the word, "MEGATORCH" on them. After the band is done, Eve Moore is clapping and cheering. Cherry beams, letting their girlfriend run into their arms.

"You all did wonderful," Eve smiled. "I know you'll kick ass at the festival this year." Cherry grins, kissing Eve on the cheek.

"We better," Jackie commented, turning her keyboard off. "Or else I lose my twenty bucks to Rocco."

Rocco wipes the sweat from his forehead, "If we win, I'll be nice to Gio."

"Hey!" Gio whines, putting his guitar on the stand. "I am so nice to all of you, and this is the thanks I get?" His shoulders droop.

Cherry chuckles, "Guys, guys, Gio is the light of the band." She puts a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. "Besides, we're totally gonna win. Eve said so!"

"We get it, you're gay." Rocco rolled his eyes.

"So are you." Gio sang, grabbing a water out of the cooler.

"This garage has to be atleast nintey degrees." Jack rubs his eyes.

"It's October." Rocco said. "You're just out of shape."

"Hey!" Jackie snapped. "I am very lean, thank you very much."

"You're welcome." Rocco said.

Eve smiles at them, before taking Cherry's hand. "We should go, love, it's getting late."

Cherry nods in agreement. "That's true, it's getting dark. We'll see you losers later!" Cherry runs out of the garage, grabbing her bike. Eve follows, sitting behind her.

Everyone says their good-byes to the pair. After a long silence, Rocco speaks up. "Okay, out of my garage."

Gio whines, again. "But I'm so comfy!"

Jackie nudges Gio with their foot, "C'mon, I'll ride back home with you."

Rocco pushes both of them out, shutting the garage behind him. "What's gotten into him?" Jackie asks Gio. Gio shrugs. Together, they ride back to their part of town as the sun sets.