A warm summer breeze rolled through the small porch. It tussled Stormy's hair around lazily. The smell of cherry blossoms riding the with it as it passed by. The soft melody from her old acoustic guitar played sadly, like a soundtrack to her life. Her fingers moved along the strings in a soulful mourn that mirrored the sadness in her heart.
Stormy had left a message for Amethyst and Aloe the night before. Amethyst had called back in the morning to tell Stormy that brunch plans weren't going to work and they would have to reschedule. Stormy knew all too well that it hadn't been Amethyst's choice to call it off. Aloe was the one that was having a harder time dealing with the divorce. Amethyst was the stronger of the two girls. The protector, in a way. Much stronger than she appeared, both physically and emotionally. She and Stormy had always been closer to one another. Out of her two kids, Amethyst was more understanding about the divorce.
Stormy had handled herself fairly well while she was on the phone, making sure that her disappointment didn't show in her voice. It was hard. She loved her children. Loved seeing them when they got home from school. Enjoyed sitting with them at the kitchen table as they worked on their homework. It was true she didn't always understand them, but she made sure that they knew that she couldn't always comprehend what they were talking about. Stormy believed that it would strengthen their relationship in the long run. Now that she could only see them under serious stipulations, it was weakening her resolve. Maybe she had made a big mistake with the divorce.
Amethyst stumbled on “I love you, ma.” When she was getting ready to hang up. The sound of tears in her throat threatened to tear Stormy apart. Instead of breaking down and promising to come back and work things out with their father, Stormy swallowed hard. “I love you too, baby girl. Give your sister a hug for me. I'll see you both really soon.” The last ten seconds of the conversation were lost in the tears that ran down her face.
Stormy had hung the phone up and reached for her pack of cigarettes, grabbing one of the special ones. Stormy had promised the day that her divorce was finalized, that she would only smoke the joints that she had left on her, and then stop marijuana all together. It was starting to seem like an impossible feat now. Every time she got emotional, she would need one. Now there were only two more left.
Stormy threw the pack of cigarettes down on the counter and picked up the box of matches next to it. She snaked her way around all the crap in front hallway on her way to the front door. She opened the screen door, scooped up her guitar, and stepped outside. The rattle of the screen door behind her caused her to jolt. I just need a break from everything, she thought. She spent the better part of the day on the front porch strumming away and singing softly to herself.
Even now, Stormy argued with herself. These feelings that she was allowing herself to feel weren't doing her any good. She knew that this might happen, and needed to suck it up. Stormy hit a sour cord as the gnawing of the voice was getting harsher. Then she would just slip back into the soft melody. Stormy knew all too well that she should be working on her pig sty of a house, but felt too weak to even stand. The corners of her mouth turned down as the inner voice was starting to wear on her nerves. The voice only seemed to come around when she'd indulged in her special cigarettes.
“Ahem!” Came from somewhere, it had been so soft that Stormy had believed that it was her inner voice again, poking her into moving.
“Stormy?” A voice called again, from the yard this time.
Stormy jolted up from the old rocking chair she was sitting in. “Yes!”
There was a young male zebra standing in her yard. At first she thought that he might be lost, but he had said her name. He strode up and stood at the bottom of the stairs to her porch. Young might be an understatement, Stormy thought. His face hadn't even filled out. It's horse-like appearance was lost beneath the black and white pinstripe that ran along every bare inch of him. His black hair had been greased into a faux-hawk between his pointed ears. It wasn't an unattractive look on this young man. His athletic body was contained neatly under a red t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Strapped to his back was an old ruddy looking acoustic guitar, thrift store quality for sure. His zebra tail lashed around nervously behind him.
“Miss Fontane told me that you were interested in giving guitar lessons.” The youth shuffled his hooves in the browning grass.
“Oh yeah, absolutely. I was hoping to set up some hour long sessions, three or four a day. You could have just called...” Stormy realized that she was at a disadvantage here. The young man knew her name, but she didn't know his. “What's your name?”
“Steven Green. You can call me Steven,” the young man said, his face molding into a modest shy smile. “I didn't call because I don't have a phone. I hope that's not a problem. I wouldn't have just showed up if Mrs. Fontane hadn't said it was alright.”
Beautiful, Stormy thought. It had been so long since she was that naively young and blissfully unaware of how shitty life could actually be. “Well, Steven, it's nice to meet you. It's not a problem at all. Come on up here and sit with me. We'll start your first lesson.”
Stormy was surprised to find herself so accepting of such an abrupt change to her schedule of doing nothing, except feeling sorry for herself. There was something about this boy, this Steven, that she liked. The glimmer of a musician in his eyes was unmistakeable. It didn't hurt that he had a rocking body, the naughty voice in the back of her head whispered. It must have been true, because a red heat immediately crept to her cheeks.
Steven nodded and climbed the stairs. They creaked under his body weight when his foot hit the porch. There was a loud snap of a loose board that crumbled under his foot, sending him down to his knees. Stormy was up out of her seat in a second and at his side. The aroused blush turned into an embarrassed one, and was now moving from her face to cover the whole of her body. A million thoughts rushed through her mind all at once. The one that seemed to keep coming back was the impending lawsuit that would ensue.
“Oh my God, Steven, are you alright? I'm so sorry.” Stormy blurted out, as she rested her hands on his shoulders, the warm scent of Old Spice tickled her nose.
“No, no it's fine. I really should have been paying more attention to where I was walking. My dad always told me to keep and eye out for the signs. My dad is a big time construction worker slash carpenter in this area. I used to spend every summer helping him out. I know about this kinda stuff.” Steven was mumbling aloud to himself as he and Stormy were working to free his hoof from the clutches of the broken porch.
Stormy reached into the hole and helped angle Steven's hoof so he could pull it out safely. “You sure you're alright?” Stormy ran her fingers softly along his ankle and calf, beyond faint white scrapings, everything looked fine.
“Yeah. I'm really glad my dad wasn't here to see that.” Steven chuckled to himself. “Damnit boy, how many times do I have to tell you to watch where you step.” Steven changed his voice so it sounded deeper, like a much older man's voice.
Stormy couldn't help but smile. It took a lot of effort for her to contain the laugh that was welling up. “I'm so sorry that this happened. I've been meaning to get all this shit fixed, but I haven't had the money. That's one of the main reason I'm offering guitar lessons. I need the money.”
Steven dusted himself off and wrung his hands in front of him. Stormy watched as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, rubbing the back of his neck. The white stripes on his face were tinted pink. It was at that moment Stormy realized that Steven was just as embarrassed as she was. It made her heart swell, the young man was so self-conscious about something that wasn't his fault. It was endearing trait to behold.
Steven took a deep breath and sighed out. “Do you think we could start over?”
Stormy giggled. It wasn't a a simple laugh that a giggle usually represented, but a giggle that a school girl would do, when a boy said something that wasn't particularly funny, but didn't want to hurt his feelings. “Nah, I think this is good. You've seen me in an awkward way. I've seen you in an awkward way. Now we don't have to waste our time working past our insecurities and we can get right down to the lesson.”
It was Steven's turn to offer a nervous chuckle, Stormy couldn't help but feel he was humoring her. “That's true. I got to be honest, I don't know how often I will be able to come back for lessons. I don't have a lot of money. I'm going to the community college to see if I can wrangle a degree in Music study.”
Stormy nodded slowly and cleared her throat. “Are you in a band?”
“Nah. I just really want to teach music. My uncle teaches music at the high school, and he loves it. He's kind of my mentor.” Steven leaned briefly against the porch railing, but decided against it, and straightened up.
Stormy couldn't help smiling. The young man had little trouble speaking passionately and honestly about what he wanted out of life. Being a teacher was a noble profession, certainly not one that paid well. This young man's dream that was so simple, but carried with it such a resounding amount of responsibly to touch as many lives as he could. It was moving. Or was it the fact that Steven made her feel that tingling inside? The gnawing voice was getting quieter. Thankfully. The weed was finally wearing off.
“I guess, if you want, I can teach you for free. Being a teacher is huge responsibility, but it's really important to kids and stuff.” Stormy offered, sitting back down in the rocking chair.
Steven thought for a moment and shook his head. “No. I couldn't do that to you. You need the money to fix your house, but maybe...”
“Maybe what?” Stormy cocked her head.
“Maybe I can come over on my days off and work around your house, fixing stuff. I'm really good at it. I know how to do plumbing, electric work, and some carpentry. For every three hours I put in, you owe me one hour of guitar lessons.” There was an excited tone in his voice as she paced towards her, being sure to avoid the hole in the porch.
Stormy could tell that he was pleased with his idea. She would be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit intrigued in it. The idea of having someone around to work on her house for free was as stroke of good fortune, to say the least. There was much she didn't know about construction, but she did know how to paint and decorate. Maybe he could even teach her a thing or two about maintaining the inner workings of a house. A smile crawled across his lips. She had no doubt that her smile mirrored his own smile.
“That sounds like an incredibly fair deal,” Stormy said softly, feeling a blush moving back to her cheeks. “You can start on Monday evening.”
“Sounds good.” Steven said, as he backed away, down the stairs. “See you, then. Have a good evening, Stormy.”
“You too, Steven.” Stormy watched as Steven climbed onto his bike and pedaled out of sight. This was definitely the start of a beautiful friendship.
