Page 8 - Scar Girl

L e n V L a h o s

A coiled wire snaked down from a hi-fi unit to a pair of
headphones wrapped around Johnny’s ears. His eyes were

closed, and he was otherwise motionless. The album cover
for U2’s Wide Awake in America was on the floor.
The record is an EP, just four songs. “Bad,” an eight-
minute live opus that pulls you through every emotion you

can imagine, was a favorite song of ours. Both Johnny and
I felt like Bono was talking to us personally.
I nudged Johnny’s foot with the toe of my sneaker.
“Careful, Harry,” he said without opening his eyes.

“I’ve only got one of those left.”
“I know it’s the left, and that ain’t right,” I answered.
This had quickly become a favorite joke of ours. I don’t
know why. “‘Bad’?” I asked about the music.

“Actually, pretty damn good.” Johnny and I were a
regular Smothers Brothers. No, strike that. More like
Martin and Lewis. We were still a bit too dysfunctional to
be the Smothers Brothers.

“So let’s hear this new song,” he said, tugging the
headphones down around his neck.
I was about to take my Strat out of its case, but I realized
this would sound much better on an acoustic guitar. Music

is like that. You need the right tools to make it perfect. So
I grabbed Johnny’s Takamine. It had a sunburst body with
a built-in pickup and this trebly sound with a lot of twang.
It was bright and clear, like sunshine.

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