Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

43. Guy Talk

Danny

Finally I get up enough courage to say something. But as soon as my mouth opens, the words fly out my ears and all I'm left with is a soft, stupid "Um..."

The driver still hears me, and he turns his head my way. "Yes?"

I stammer, "Uh- Mr. Charles, sir- um- do you think-"

"Just Charles will do," he corrects me gently.

That's nice of him, but the only adult I even really want to call by his first name is Freddie. This guy's too big and not half weird enough for me to act like he's my pal or something. "What's your last name, sir? Mom says-"

"I know, I remember," Charles chuckles. "I guess you can call me Mr. Burdon then. My full name is Charles P. Burdon- like Eric Burdon from the Animals."

Mr. Burdon. That's nice, I guess. "Animals? Who are they again?"

His jaw drops- and I bet if he wasn't wearing sunglasses I'd see his eyes get really big. "Have you never heard 'House of the Rising Sun'?"

"How's it go?"

Mr. Burdon clears his throat, about to sing- then looks in the rear view mirror, and shakes his head, sighing. "Ah, well, never mind. I guess that would be before your time anyway-"

"Hey!" I exclaim, raising my voice a bit. 'Prince is before my time- and he's my favorite! Uh, no, I mean- he's one of my favorites. Just one of 'em. There's bands I like way more than him- one of them is Queen."

Now, I'm not really sure if I mean that forever and ever, because as much as I love Freddie's music, it's still reeeally hard to say whether Queen's honestly better than Prince, or the other way around- but right this second I mean it. On instinct I turn around, hoping I've made Freddie smile, or at least look up- but he just keeps writing away, eyes on the paper, like he didn't even hear me say anything. He probably didn't.

The driver guy's way nicer than he seems. He even leans over and whispers, very quietly, "I'd love to put some of that on, Danny- see, I love Queen too, they hold a very personal place in my heart- but..." He trails off, nods his head toward the back seat where Freddie is. I know exactly what he means.

So once again, I'm staring out the window, music folder closed and laying in my lap. Bored, I open my flip phone, squint at the screen. No messages, no calls. Not even from Uncle John- at least, not since this afternoon at recess. It's so quiet in here.

And not the good kind of quiet, either; you know, the sort of quiet you need when you're thinking, or about to go to sleep. This is the weird quiet- the tense kind, like in the movies when the main character's wandering around in some dim, creepy room when suddenly the music cuts out, and you just know in a few seconds something is going to jump out of the shadows and scare the crap out of you.

If there was music playing, it would be better, I gripe to myself. But I'm too scared to ask for it. I don't want to make him mad- sorry, madder.

Very carefully I turn my head to look back at Freddie again. I was thrilled at first that he was coming to New York too, since I didn't get to say hi this morning before I left for school- and even more so when Charles just suddenly showed up out of nowhere right after me and Lauren did, offered me and Freddie a ride up to New York. But I haven't heard Freddie say a single word since this morning.

So far all I've really said to him, is "How's your nose?" And even then, he didn't answer me except with a "Mm."

In fact, all he's done since he got in this super amazing car is scribble stuff down in that spiral notebook. He's barely looked at me once. I wonder if he even knows I'm sitting up here- but again, I'm afraid of reminding him. He's still my friend and all, and I still like him better than Dr. Preus- but man, he's so scary when he's angry.