chapter 11: organized chaos

Taylor's Point of View

She looked too perfect, and too angelic lying there tangled with the blankets, her hair fanned into a halo around her head, to be awakened. Instead, I carefully pulled my coat out from under her, gathered up the scraps of newspaper in their bag, put the fire out, and left a note wedged between her fingers. It explained simply that I looked forward to seeing her after the concert and that I loved her. I kissed her forehead and left her there in the "haunted house," covered in fabric.

I bent my head as I left, throwing on a baseball cap and sunglasses to hide my face. It was then that I realized it was too dark for anyone to recognize me. It was nearly four a.m.

The half-filled sack of newspaper clips was odd because it had handles, unlike other grocery bags. It wasn't very heavy at first, but it seemed to grow in weight with each step I took toward my house. Once one hand got tired, I shifted the bag to the other.

I sneaked in the back door, just in case someone was getting an early morning snack, and crept up to my room. The room was dark, but a weird force pulled me over to something that seemed to glow on Zac's dresser. The Polaroid picture was pushed up next to a framed photo of my family. I admired it for a second.

There was some kind of hidden beauty in that picture, a hidden love that Trinity and I both shared for each other. A secret romance that was incredibly hush-hush. It wasn't scary or strange or by any means gross, it was just very thought provoking. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine Trinity's lips on mine. That's why I looked forward to lying down and going back to sleep. Maybe I would dream about her.

I shoved the picture tight under a pile of jeans in Zac's lower drawer and took all my clothes off except my boxers. It was a bit chilly, so I found a white wife-beater and put that on as well. I chucked the dirty clothes into their hamper and climbed quietly up to the top bunk.

I crawled under the covers and made myself comfortable. I stared at the ceiling and re-played the movie in my head that was growing in length every time I saw Trinity. First, I saw myself in the tree house with a dazed and confused girl I had yet to learn about. I saw myself ask her inside, I saw our first kiss as if it had never happened. I even saw a satisfied smile on Trinity's face afterward that I hadn't even noticed in real life.

Then I saw myself sneak out numerous times to see the same girl. I was hooked. I loved her. The last thing I saw before I fell asleep was Trinity's frightened face as I explained the Cassandra Fitch legend.

Then I rewound the film strip, put the mental video back into its case, and slid it back onto its shelf in my mind.

ooo

"Up! We have a big day!"

I grunted, rolled over, and stuffed my head underneath my pillow.

"Taylor, come on! It's already noon!"

I kicked a few covers back onto my body and begged, "Just a few more minutes, Ike."

"You said that an hour ago,"

I was almost awake, he'd talked to me so much. I shoved fabric into my ear to stop its throbbing.

"Tay, how late were you up last night?"

"I don't know,"

"Well, you're going to have to stop being such an all-nighter. This tour's not going to be easy."

"Shut up."

"You have ten minutes."

I moaned. It could be worse, I reminded myself. Isaac usually wasn't this nice to me, especially on concert days.

I was almost positive that only a couple minutes had passed when Zac burst through the door.

"Okay, Tay. Time's up."

"No…" I wanted to say it hadn't been ten minutes, but my mouth was too dry to form so many words.

"Come on, buddy. You can do it," Zac pulled the covers off my body and a whiff of cold morning air tingled my skin. I had no choice but to get up.

"Thanks, man," Zac patted my back respectively.

"Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?" I asked him, making my bed.

"Where'd you put the picture?"

So that was his motive. Zac always had a plan behind everything.

"Don't show anyone," I reminded him.

"I know. So where is it?"

"I put it in the drawer you have pants in, the bottom one."

Zac checked, but left the photo in the drawer. He was already clean and ready, so he bounded down the stairs and to his favorite haven - the kitchen.

I, however, began my long preparation for the night. I ran the shower water, in the bathroom I shared with Zac and Ike, burning hot. I shed my clothes and stepped into the small, cylinder-like shower. It wasn't like a bathtub. It didn't have a shower curtain. It was just very small, with blurred glass that revealed skin tone, but nothing else. The water was almost too hot to bear at first, but it seemed to cool down as I washed up.

I squirted a blob of yellowish shampoo into my hand and lathered it into my hair. I combed my hair with my hand until the shampoo was equally distributed all over my head. Then I washed my body and conditioned my hair. By the time I was done, the water was so hot that it was cold.

I got out, wrapped a cream-colored towel around my body, and looked at the mirror. Using my hand, I wiped a circle of steam off the glass so I could see myself, and sighed. What're people thinking? Why do all the girls bring signs to concerts that ask my hand in marriage? Why are they so obsessed with me? I'm not worth it. None of these head questions were new to me. I asked them to myself every day, and every day they were left unanswered. I shook my head and pushed the thoughts out of my mind. I fumbled in the cabinet for face cleanser and washed my face. Then I grabbed my toothbrush and brushed my teeth. I dried my body, squeezed the water out of my hair, and used the towel to cover myself up as I picked out clothes.

I decided on a long sleeved white blouse and casual blue jeans. I buttoned up the shirt, zipped up the jeans, and threw the wet towel into the hamper. I laced on some Doc Martens and looked in the mirror again, which the steam had worn off. I took a full fifteen minutes just brushing my hair, then figured it was good enough and threw the brush back onto the counter. Up or down? The never-ending question. I decided to leave my hair down, but put a loose rubber band around my wrist just in case.

My last home-cooked meal before going on tour was one of my mothers' most elaborate. Not elaborate because there was a lot of food, but elaborate because it had a large variety of pancakes. Over the years, my mom had become quite skilled in catering to my six siblings' needs and wants, and she even had a memory bank that stored my brother and sisters' favorite pancake shapes.

Zoë was sitting at her highchair, singing baby songs and poking at her little circle pancakes that mom called 'sand dollars.' Avery had what looked like a Barbie, while Jessica had an assortment: a heart, a star, and a lopsided triangle. Zac liked anything edible, so he just had a pile of shapeless blobs. Isaac's pancake was just short of being a guitar. It looked more like a banjo. Mackenize had a car and a train. As I sat down, Mom slid a musical note pancake onto my plate.

"Finally you're here, honey," Mom kissed my cheek.

"Thanks Mom."

"Why we leave, Tay-Tay?" Mackenzie asked with a mouthful of chewed pancake bits.

"We're going on tour, Mackie."

"Again?" his cute little voice was desperate.

"Yep."

"No…" he moaned.

"How long will we be gone?" Jessica asked.

"About four months," Zac answered, accidentally spitting pieces of pancake across the table.

I flicked one off my hand.

"That's a long time," Avery observed, chewing on a Barbie head.

"I know it sounds like a while, but it's really not," I said, but I was uncertain of the statement myself. "It will go by quickly."

Avery sighed and stood up. She put her plate and fork in the sink.

"Go grab your bag, Avie," my mother reminded my sister. "And bring it down here by the door."

Avery agreed and raced to her room. Mackie finished soon after and went to get his bag as well.

Zac devoured three pancakes in ten seconds, then followed at his younger siblings' heels.

ooo

After breakfast, all our bags were thrown in a big pile on the couch. Zac, Isaac, and I had at least ten bags all together. Four months of clothes is a lot. I was used to packing and getting ready for a tour, though. It was kind of like a drill now, even for our siblings. The only one new at this was Zoë. She was looking around from mom's arms, confused.

"We're going on tour," I cooed to her, brushing her blond baby hair out of her face. "Don't worry, you get to come."

Zoë smiled and giggled excitedly.

For the first time that day, I grinned, as I tickled Zoë.

Mom whistled. "Okay, everyone. The tour bus is here. Let's put our stuff in!"

The tour bus was huge on both the outside and inside. It was mostly maroon, with silver parts as well; and very long, with multiple sets of wheels. There was a living room in the very back, with a couch that turned into a bed, a TV, and a cabinet with a few games. A bedroom was in the very front, with a queen-sized bed. Sandwiched between the two rooms was a set of four bunks.

Zac ran as fast as he could into the bus to insure that he got one of the top bunks. I wasn't far behind, so I got the only other top bunk. Isaac took the bunk under mine, just like at home. Jessica, being the oldest of the other siblings, automatically assumed that she would get to sleep in the last bunk. But Mom told her she had to sleep with Avery on the hide-a-bed. Mackie got the last bunk. Luckily, Zoë couldn't argue with her crib in the bedroom with my parents.

Next were the instruments. We were each responsible for our own instrument. Isaac was limited to only three guitars because of space. Zac's drums were the hardest, but he was accustomed to dragging them into the closet in separate pieces. My keyboard got wedged under Mackenzies's bunk, while the two connected bongo drums shared the closet with Zac's drum set.

Once everything was packed up and we were settled in, we waved goodbye to the house and set off with my dad driving. I sighed as I watched Trinity's house move out of sight.

ooo

The Tulsa Performing Arts Center wasn't very big, only 2,367 seats altogether. That was nothing compared to the huge stadiums and arenas we'd played in 1998. The truth was, we just weren't as popular anymore. We didn't want to waste money on large venues when they wouldn't fill up. We would be lucky if even half of the shows we were scheduled to do were sold out.

As I brought my keyboard on stage, I wondered if it was worth it. Maybe we should make another album first, I thought. Just so people can get more used to the fact that there's more to us than nonsense words like, 'MMMBop.' Then we can tour. Then we can play large venues. Then all the concerts will be sold out, just like two years ago. Or maybe, I thought dreadfully, that wouldn't help. Maybe we're forever stamped as one-hit-wonders. Maybe we couldn't fill a stadium of 15,000 if our lives depended on it.

ooo

Well, I was right. About three-fourths of the center was full. I peeked around the corner and saw a mass of teenage girls swarming all around. It's not that bad, I reminded myself. I wondered where Trinity was. The ticket had a pretty good seat, if I remembered correctly. I didn't have a chance to look for her any further, because Zac pulled me back.

"Time for scales," he said.

I made a circle with Zac and Isaac and we began to sing in unison. "Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do…"

"Zac, go a half-step down,"

We tried again.

"Awesome," Isaac smiled, handing us water bottles.

I took a long swig and set it on a stool near the curtain.

Ike threw cans of silly string to Zac and me. I got one can of blue and one yellow.

"Hey, who says I get pink-" Zac tried to say, but a booming voice came over the speakers and interrupted him.

"And now who you've been waiting for - your hometown boys - Hanson!" The name of our band was held out a long time while a string of shrieks erupted from the audience.

"Shoot! My earplugs!" Zac cried.

Isaac and I decided to go on without him. This wasn't the first time Zac had forgotten his earplugs.

I ran up and down the stage spraying the crowd until all that came out of the cans was slime. Zac wasn't far behind. I still hadn't found Trinity by the time I took my place behind the keyboard.

I pulled the microphone to my lips and began to hype the crowd. "Hey Tulsa!" Screaming pierced through my earplugs. "You're at a Hanson concert. There is only one rule…you cannot sit down!" More screaming.

I saw Trinity just as we jumped into, "Runaway Run." She was standing in about the fourth row, clapping and dancing along with the music just like everybody else. I felt better once I saw her, and therefore sung better. I poured my heart and soul into every song we did.

The very last song we sang was an old, sappy, love song called, "I Will Come To You."

"When you have no light to guide you, and no one to walk beside you…I will come to you, oh, I will come to you…" I held out the note strong and true, brought my hand up, and pointed directly at Trinity.

ooo

Backstage I was splashing my face with water from my water bottle. It was warm, but mixed with my sweat, it turned cool. I wiped a towel to my face and threw it at Zac. My brothers, in turn, repeated my actions.

She found me before I could even think to look for her.

"Tay!" she exclaimed, running up to me and throwing her arms around my neck.

I smiled and wrapped my arms tightly around her waist. "Hey baby," I murmured as I lightly kissed her cheek.

"The concert was awesome! You sounded so good!"

I grinned and blushed a little. "I'm glad you liked it,"

Trinity leaned in and pecked my lips. I pulled her back and kissed her for a long while as I lead her into a secluded part of the backstage area.

I slowly pulled away, but kept my face close to hers. The way I talked was planned and low. "I'm sorry I have to do this to you,"

The mood went drastically from joyous and happy to grave and dark.

Trinity nodded to signify that she knew I felt bad.

"I'll e-mail you as often as possible, all right?" I told her.

"Yes," she answered. "I will too." I could already tell she was close to tears.

"Please don't cry, baby," I whispered to her.

A single, solitary tear slid down her cheek. "Kiss me once more, Taylor," she requested. "Then you can go."

The kiss was unlike any of the others we'd shared. This kiss held a bittersweet electric current that signified love as well as heartbreak. It went on for an insanely long period of time, but it was the last time I'd taste heaven for a while, so I cherished and savored every moment of it.

You never know when you can lose someone in this world, so as I pulled away from the kiss I memorized every part of my lover: the way she smiled so wide it made me want to faint; the way her hair always fell in the perfect places; how she smelled like a musty fall morning; how she stood, so pristine, with her hands on her hips; how she pushed hair behind her ears when she got nervous; the way she kissed me; and just her overall beauty. I looked her body up and down for what seemed like the last time, taking in every curve and every possibility hidden under her skin. I stamped her into my memory and embedded her into my heart.

I knew one day it would all make sense. The reason that I had met Trinity and been attracted to her from the start. The reason that leaving her was so painful. The reason that I would stay single a whole year just to see if she still had feelings for me. Right then it was so very confusing, but I knew that someday it would all just click.

"I love you," she said to me, squeezing my hand.

It felt good to be able to say, "I love you too," but it hurt so badly to say, "Goodbye."

We hugged numbly, both of us still lost in the reality of it all, stuck in oblivion. Then we parted ways, my lover and I, walking slowly and sneaking glances back at each other, but still trying to hide our tears from the other. The love we had was unmistakable, and I prayed that it would not crumble to the ground just because we were going to be apart for so long.