The Adventures of a Scrawny Musician and a Compulsive Liar

14. We All Live in a Yellow Submarine

            “No effing way, man.” I said to Nathaniel.

            “Oh yes effing way.”

            “I cannot believe you got a legit Volkswagen Hippie Van for our road trip.” It was beautiful. The outside was a vintage, faded orange color and the roof was a glossy white. Just looking at it made me think of driving at two in the morning on endless stretches of highway with The Smiths blaring out of the radio speakers. Flinging the door open, I immediately crawled into the bus to see two brown leather bench seats, one behind the other, and two bucket seats in the front. “This is so fucking cool,” I said in awe.

            Natalie laughed. “Forget something?” I heard her ask. Swinging my head around, I saw her holding my gig-bag-encased guitar by the neck. Climbing out, I reached her, pecked her on the cheek, and took the guitar.

            “Well, Laurie certainly has enough enthusiasm for all of us,” Evan remarked from the side with his arm slung across Isobel’s shoulders.

            “You’re like a little kid in a candy shop,” Isobel cooed while she pinched my cheeks and made kissy faces at me. Rolling my eyes, I detached myself from Isobel and walked over to Natalie, taking her hand. Glancing over at Nathaniel, I notice how he’s standing a little apart from all of us. He didn’t look too happy, either. His jaw was clenched and he stared straight ahead of him with a solemn gaze.

            Detaching myself from the group, I walked over to him and patted him on the back. “Bro, you okay?”

            Nathaniel raised his eyebrows and shook his head a little as if he was shaking himself out of some sort of stupor. Then he flashed a smile and said, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Taking a deep breath, Nathaniel reaches into his pockets for the keys and turns to look at me. “Well,” he says, a full grin forming on his face, “we better get this show on the road.” Nathaniel winked.

            Oh dear, I thought as I rolled my eyes. Soon after, we all clambered onto the faded orange bus, Nathaniel in the driver’s seat, Natalie and I on the first bench seat, and Evan and Isobel on the second. When Nathaniel started the engine, we all let out an exhilarating “WHOO!” that made Natalie jump in her seat from the sudden sound and look wide-eyed at me. Smiling, I cup her face in my hands and kiss the tip of her nose. She was too adorable to resist. Spying my guitar case from the corner of my eye, I reach for it, take it out, and quickly tune all the strings half a step down. Nathaniel’s driven the car out of the driveway by now and we’ve pulled onto the streets.

            “Guys, remember when in the seventh grade we were completely obsessed with The Beatles?” I asked.

            “Don’t even bring that up,” Evan groaned. Nathaniel and I laughed in response.

            “Oh, we’d never bring up the time you decided to give yourself a makeover and put a bowl over your head and cut it into one of the most horrifying, jagged, bowl-cut hairstyles the world had ever seen and kept it well through freshman year. Oh we’d never do that.” I said.

            “Whoops,” Nathaniel said with a deadpan expression.

            “Really?” Natalie asked, intrigued. “That happened?”

            Evan scoffed. “They’re all a bunch of liars, I tell you. I cannot remember what did not happen in the first place.”

            “Well, maybe this will jog your memory,” I grinned and played a D chord. “In the town,” Isobel clapped twice in rhythm. “where I was born.” Clap. Clap. “Lived a ma-a-an…. Who sailed to sea!”

            “And he told,” Nathaniel joined in, laughing at Evan who was banging his head against the seat in front of him. “us of his life… In the la-a-and of submarines.”

            “So we sailed!” Isobel belted out in her less-than-pitch-perfect voice which made us all laugh. “On to the sun… Till we fo-o-ound… the sea of green.”

            “And we lived,” a pleasant, wind-chime soprano sang. Smiling, Natalie sang, “beneath the waves… In our ye-ellow submarine.”

            “Oh, fuck it,” Evan muttered under his breath before joining us all in the chorus.

            “WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE! WHOO! YELLOW SUBMARINE! YELLOW SUBMARINE! WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE! YELLOW SUBMARINE! YELLOW SUBMARINE!”

            It was about eight at night when we left so three hours in, we decided to crash at a motel nearby before driving the rest of the way in the morning. Since Nathaniel had been our honorary fifth-wheel for most of the trip, we decided that us three would be in one room and the girls would have one to themselves. I, unfortunately, was the unlucky bastard who lost a three-way rock-paper-scissors match and ended up on the lumpy pullout couch with the scratchy blanket.

            Right when all the lights were turned off and we were all tucked in and almost asleep, I heard a goofy-sounding voice in the darkness, “You know what we should do?” Pause. “Talk about our feelings.”

            “Oh, shut up.” I could hear Nathaniel’s eye-roll in response to Evan’s sarcastic comment. I laughed.

            “Alright, I’ll stop with the sarcasm, but seriously, how are you holding up?” Evan asked. The honest ring to his words proved he was sincere. To be honest, I was curious too.

            “Barely,” Nathaniel muttered.

            “Understandable,” I comment. “But I bet Eric really appreciates the hell out of having a big brother like you.”

            “Thanks.” Nathaniel mumbled sleepily. Soon after, snoring filled the room.

            “Nathaniel,” Evan called out. “Hey, buddy. Buddy. Buddy? Shit, he fell asleep.”

            “Yeah, well, he needs it. We should probably leave him alone for now.” I told him.

            Evan let out a low whistle. “It’s gotta be tough, man. How many years has it been?”

            “Four.” I sighed. “Seems like it was just yesterday that crazy little guy dropped my eight-hundred dollar Les Paul.”

            Evan laughs quietly. “Holy shit, I forgot about that. He was a cute little guy, though, wasn’t he? Every time we played, he’d pop out of the most random places. Remember that time he just jumped out from behind the bookcase?”

            “How could I forget? He scared the crap out of me.”

            “Yeah, I still remember your little girl scream. Aaah!” Evan poorly mimicked in a falsetto tone.

            I glared at the ceiling. “Yeah, well, psh… Just shut up.”

            Evan chuckled. “Ah, well, g’night.”

            “Yeah, g’night.”

Author's Note: Here's a little shout-out to my best friend Hollandaisies who made the cover to the right :) Thanks for reading!