good people.

Pat was driving and trying hard. He checked the mirrors more than he needed to. Honey was up front next to him but they didn’t talk much. She turned to the back every minute or so to check on little Maggie. She’d look the girl over then ask a question. Something good and easy that Maggie knew the answer to and we all knew the answer to but she thought it might be nice if we’d get to hear Maggie say it.

Maggie and I had check-ins too. We were riding in the backseat together and having one. She stared at me like little Maggie’s stare at strangers. Then I’d get her to smile once she saw me smiling and after that we’d both get to go back to our windows and think our thoughts.

My window was bright white and ugly like a Sunday. Bright enough to boil ethanol and make a buzzing sound that I’m pretty sure wasn’t really there unless I was the only one that could hear it. I don’t think Maggie could.

The service was fine. They had coffee on a fold-out table and a Christmas tree in the foyer. Pat told people my name and some of them shook my hand. Honey and Maggie were getting pulled around by different old women with the same haircut. Honey did a thing where she’d talk for Maggie when people were talking to her because Maggie didn’t want to talk.

Honey took Maggie down a long hallway to the place they had for children. She had to walk back by herself and pick me or Pat to look at while she was walking and I felt bad about that. Then the three of us went into the auditorium to take our seats and they had me sit between them.

The lights went low and the band started playing. A few of the good people were already standing up and reaching out for it. I got goosebumps and a hot throat but bit down on it and made it anger so I wouldn’t cry. Honey put her hand over mine and Pat rubbed my shoulder then for a minute or so I thought about being in the band.

I could be up there in that band is what I was thinking. I could be up there with keyboard girl. I was thinking that. I was thinking she’d be nice and teach me to play the music. I’d be showing up on Wednesdays with an egg salad and a hangover and get to tip the rainstick whenever she’d tell me to. We’d make promises about doing good and getting better and at the end of the night she’d ask a little question about Maggie while holding the door open to the big old closet where I’d have to put the rainstick back with all the other instruments you don’t really need.

The ride back was quiet but Pat had the radio on so it was better than the ride there. Maggie slept and left me with that window so I thought about a worthless town and driving a car that everyone’s got the parts for and anyone can fix and buying collared shirts at the place I buy toilet paper and having a Christmas card divorce where they try and include you after enough good people had convinced them that was the right thing to do.

Maggie moved in her carseat with a turn in the road and I could see her better. If she would have opened her eyes she’d have been staring at me. She had always been a mini Honey but right then I was sure there was some of her father in there but I couldn’t tell which parts. I was hoping it was the good ones.

Back at Pat and Honey’s we stood in their driveway and took turns saying things and smiling at the ground until I convinced them I wasn’t going in so the girls went up. Honey went inside and Maggie stayed up on the porch to spy on us. Pat talked about next Sunday and the Sunday after that and he rubbed my shoulder again like we’d become friends.

I might show up on one of those Sundays. I probably won’t but I still could. Maggie might like that. I could surprise them. Run up on that stage with assless chaps and a tambourine and have keyboard girl chase me around till I dove off into Pat and Honey’s lap for my last round of hand holding and shoulder rubs. I know Honey would be upset but a few days later she might laugh when she talked about it. She’s got a good laugh and I haven’t heard it in a long time but I always think about it when I’m standing in the kitchen eating leftovers.

Pat was still talking but I could hear Honey up there in the house yelling at a dog like it’d done wrong and got into something it shouldn’t have. Eventually Pat heard her too so we laughed about that before I got going.