Problem Children

Chapter Fourteen

School on Wednesday came and went, but not at the speed Angus was hoping for. On his and Hannah's way home from school, Angus stopped by the music store again and stared wistfully at it. The guitars hung in the window and teased him. The banjo in his room had sprung three strings now and wouldn't tune like it used to. Malcolm had recently earned enough money to buy his own guitar after he helped pay off George's broken one. It was beautiful and Angus would play it whenever he got the chance. There were close calls when Malcolm would come home early and Angus wouldn't hear the front door open and close over the music. Thankfully Angus had seen his brother's jacket on the couch and hurried upstairs to put it away. Malcolm would always tease Angus about being deaf that he should have the record player on so loud.

"You're fogging up the glass, Angus," Hannah teased behind him. The boy glared at her before he turned his gaze back to the store. He had to at least take a look around before he died, didn't he?

"What do you say about goin' in there today?" he asked over his shoulder. He could hear two feet hesitantly shuffle a bit behind him so he tried again. "Jus' for a bit. To look around, ya' know."

"I-I don't know, my mother wouldn't like me in there, says there's druggies in there an' nothing good comes out of that music." Angus was appalled.

"Do you believe in all that horse shit?" he asked turning to face her. A pale red flushed her cheeks. "Can't imagine why you're friends with me-or Malcolm if you believe that for yourself."

"That's not-it's because I-" Hannah sighed, not able to say anything just yet. This was hardly the time or place. "Angus, if I get smoke or pot or any liquid that may or may not be alcoholic on my uniform, so help me God..."

"Ever heard of dry clean? The spots will be out in no time."

"Doesn't take away the smell." Angus opened the door for her.

"Jus' for a bit. It'd get you out of a house for a while, you deserve a day off from studyin'. Come on, lemme take you out somewhere." Hannah blushed at the statement but washed it away with a frown. She crossed her arms and stepped past the threshold.

"Fine. But we're studyin' extra tomorrow," she said giving him a smile. Angus closed the door after them shaking his head.

The room was bigger on the inside, with shelves on one side filled with albums from bands of all fame. Instruments littered the walls and special guitars hung from the front window. A couple drops of rain peppered the window and a cold breeze swept under the door. At the front desk stood a man who was tuning a violin on request of Mrs. Banker who lived down the street. Her son was learning to play and she detested rock and roll music. Whenever she saw Malcolm or Angus walk down the street her nose would turn up and she'd tell her son to play louder or better so he wouldn't have the faintest idea to engage with them. She's had a few talks with Mrs. Young over tea about her sons, but the conclusion was always the same. My children, my parenting. If they ever acted up on her property Mrs. Young would certainly allow a talking to from Mrs. Banker, but since no such thing happened, the two boys didn't seem to warrant her voice.

Angus was immediately drawn to the guitars hanging up on the wall and window. Hannah took her time glancing through the albums all while trying to avoid any trouble makers or blunt smokers. The store was overall clean, but Hannah wouldn't simply touch any little thing. One guitar in particular caught Angus' eye from the window, and checking it out was always a big reason for wanting to look inside. It was a brown Gibson SG, and always hung to the very left, next to the Fender. Angus didn't have a lot of money, but what he did was going toward that little piece of rock. If Malcolm could buy his own guitar, why then so could he.

The price tag was tied around the neck and blew from the breeze under the door. Angus stood on his toes to see it but even that didn't help. He glanced at the man at the desk. The idea of asking him to use his height to his advantage and tell him the price wasn't the most appealing idea to him. He didn't need to be humiliated. The man looked busy anyway. His eyes cast a look at his companion, her eyes skimming the shelves for at least one good album. He sauntered over and tapped her shoulder.