Another Five Years

Your Time is Gonna Come

"Hey, did you ever give any thought about auditioning for another band?" Anna asked as she counted out the cash tray at the end of the day. Summer was almost over and they were dreading having to go back to school. They had spent the entire summer either working side by side in the record store or raising hell all over Northern Virginia together.

"Not really," he called over his shoulder as he locked the front door. "I really like where I'm at."

"What if... hypothetically, I knew of a band looking for a drummer," she glanced up at him, setting down a stack of twenty dollar bills. "A band you really like."

"Well, shit. If Plant, Jones, and Page walked through that door right now, I'd fall to my knees and beg."

"You'd have to kick me out of the way first, kitten," she grinned and pulled a fax out of the till setting it face down and sliding it across to him before carrying the cash tray into the back.

He narrowed his eyes at her back and picked up the fax, reading it several times before he fully understood what it was. It was a handwritten note, xeroxed over the top of an old Scream 'zine.

Hey Bobby- Looking for a new drummer. You know what we need. Loud, fast, loud, mean, loud. Know any? -Pete

Anna spoke before she even turned around, knowing he was at the office door just by sensing him. "If you're interested we can-"

"Yes! Fuck yes, Anna! I'm interested!"

She turned slowly in the office chair and smiled brightly at him, though he noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes.

*October 1985*

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Anna yelled as the shop door slammed shut behind her.

He sat stunned behind the counter, staring at her angry face. "Working?"

"You're fired," she said, stalking towards him with a look that made him hop off the stool and back up. "Get the fuck out, you're fired."

"What? Why?" he felt the metal hooks on the wall dig into his back when she pressed her finger into this chest.

"Because you have an audition in fifteen minutes," she spun away from him to snatch the keys from the counter. "I'll drive."

He nervously fidgeted with the dial on her car stereo while she broke several traffic laws to get him to the club. "Go," she insisted, pushing on his back as he stood frozen in front of the club door.

"I... I can't. I'm too nervous," he turned to look at her with wide eyes and she groaned.

"Here," she shoved a pair of drumsticks in his hand and dragged him inside. "David, this is what you're good at. It's not school or work or anything else. It's this. So unless you want to ship off to boot camp and become a Marine like all the other burnouts, you'll go in there and show them that you're the best fucking drummer on the east coast." The loud thumping of a band playing on stage followed them as they made their way towards the back of the building. She stopped him in front of an open door leading to a tiny rehearsal space and squeezed his hand. "They're going to love you."

A few minutes later he was behind a tiny second-hand kit from the 70's, throwing every ounce of energy he had into it. A stick broke during the second song, but Anna appeared almost immediately with a fresh one, handing it to him at just the right moment so he wouldn't miss the cymbal crash. Four more songs later and he was unceremoniously asked to join with a warning that they would be leaving almost immediately on a European tour. The rest of the band left him alone, beckoned by the call of alcohol and food in someone's dressing room and he set off to find Anna. Finally spotting her in a crowded hallway, he called out to her, "I'm in! Anna, I'm in!"

She stood on her toes to see him over the crowd, grinning brightly at the look on his face. He had made it, he had impressed them enough and he was in. He threw his arms around her and lifted her up, laughing happily when she giggled in his ear. "I knew they'd love you!" she cried.

*

They lay in the grass next to the Potomac, staring up into the gnarled pines that lined the shore. She had thrown a blanket and some food in the trunk of her car, along with a couple dusty bottles of cherry wine that she found in the back of her parent's liquor cabinet as a means of celebration. They had already polished off the wine while watching the ferries cruise up and down the river.

"We're going to Europe," he said quietly, running his hand through her hair.

"I know," she smiled. "Pete told me. I'm so jealous."

"You should drop out and come with me," he was only half joking, having her come along would be a dream come true.

She laughed at his suggestion and shook her head as she rolled onto her back. "No, I've got this rad life to ride out here in Virginia."

"It won't be forever, Annie," he reminded her as he traced patterns on her skin where her shirt had ridden up. "None of this stuff lasts and I'll be back before you know it. We'll get married, have eight kids and run the record shop."

She laughed a little and it sounded cynical enough that he stopped to look at her face, feeling his stomach drop when he saw she was crying. "Annie?"

"It's okay, kitten," she whispered. "I'll see you when you come home. I'm just so happy for you!"

*

A few days later he was staring at the empty terminal next to the gate where she was supposed to meet him to say goodbye.

"Dude, let's go," Franz called, already heading down the ramp to the plane that would take them to Germany.

He gave her another thirty seconds before following him.