CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Emmet
Our first event was planned for the last Saturday in April at the Dallas County Fairgrounds.
Kaya and the team from marketing helping our project did a lot of the technical setting up of the venue, making sure we had the right lighting and sound. They also promoted our appearance and made sure people were coming, though Darren helped with all of this stuff too. Every other aspect, though, The Roosevelt Blues Brothers team handled alone. We selected Dallas County as our target area for our first run outside of Ames, and we elected to use the fairgrounds as our test-run venue.
“It makes the most sense on both counts,” David said. “West Des Moines is a little conservative, but not completely, and they have money. They’re our target demographic. Plus my dad has a ton of connections there. He can work the crowd while we put on our show.”
Darren made a sign indicating he wanted to speak, and we waited while he typed into his pad. “We want to give them the speech too, right?”
“Oh yeah. And the brochures, the slide show, the whole works. But I think they want the song and dance too.” David shifted his upper body in his chair, grinning his sly grin. “Especially for the West Des Moines crowd. You’re talking prime money there. We might not only get votes. We might get donors for the foundation. Because we might as well kill two birds with one stone.”
Jeremey frowned. “Foundation?”
David’s smile got bigger, and it changed. His nose crinkled, and his eyes narrowed. “I forgot my dad didn’t tell you guys yet. He filed the paperwork with the lawyer yesterday. There’s going to be a Roosevelt Foundation now too, in addition to the project. The foundation is where all the money will go when it gets donated, and hopefully eventually it will become an education and information arm of The Roosevelt Project. He and Kaya want it to become independent and self-perpetuating, but it’s going to take a bit of work. And capital. It’ll be nonprofit, but it’ll need some money to make the wheels go around. Which is why this Dallas County performance is such a good start. We’ll never make enough money in donations to reach our goal. Maybe to keep The Roosevelt solvent, but never to help establish a network of Roosevelts across the state. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to bat my eyelashes at rich people and try to get them to empty their wallets at me. This chair isn’t good for a whole lot, but if I can use it to raise money for our cause, I’m going balls to the wall.”
I wasn’t sure what balls David was putting to the wall and why, and I thought about asking him, but Kaya came over to us and told us the tech crew was ready for us to rehearse, so I didn’t say anything. We needed a lot of practice still, after all.
We weren’t bad, but we’d decided we wanted to be more polished than we’d been for the Target flash mob, which meant more rehearsal. We had better costumes this time, which was nice. All four of us had suits, but they were fitted by a real tailor and they all matched. The hats were my favorite part. They were soft and had a secret strip of grip padding in the front so when we removed them for our dance moves they didn’t fall out of our hands as easily. David didn’t take his off himself, because it was too difficult for him to execute the gesture in time to the beat, so I took it off for him, and it was easier for me to grab it with the grip strip. Kaya had come up with the idea, and she asked a haberdasher to put the strip in as a special feature. I didn’t know we had a haberdasher in Iowa until she drove us to Des Moines to meet him. He was a nice older man who was excited we all wanted custom hats.
Our musical number was a great deal of work, but I didn’t mind because I got to be Elwood Blues again. Lip-syncing is hard, but “Try Everything” is a good song. I’m not a female singer, so people are suspending their disbelief more than usual, but Kaya says we’re so good it doesn’t matter.
I have fun with this because I don’t only pretend to sing, I dance with Jeremey. The last time we did a lip sync he had a difficult time simply participating, but he’s come a long way with his social anxiety now, and he says being on stage with lights blasting into his face helps a lot because they block out the audience and he can’t see them at all. His biggest struggle is getting out of bed if he’s having a bad bout of depression, but Mai helps him there. Also he says having Mai on stage (she’s also has a costume, a special jacket and hat) makes it okay, though he’s best when he’s with me. In fact if he holds my hand, he can lip sync and dance. So for most of the time he’s either holding Mai’s leash or dancing with me.
There’s one part of the number where we sing into the microphone together, another where we each have our own mics, and one part where I spin him around. Usually I prefer to dance by myself, and I do have a great dance solo where I do my Elwood Blues dance because Kaya says it’s my signature move and I need to include it, but I like the part where I dance with Jeremey better. I enjoy the way he blushes and looks at me like it doesn’t matter how big an audience we have, when I’m spinning him, there’s nobody else in the world but the two of us.
Darren does some dancing too, but he prefers to stay in place when he dances. He has enough mobility and balance issues that he doesn’t want to move too much on stage, and David of course needs to stay in his chair. So Darren and David do their own version of a dance together, where David spins his chair and Darren spins in place. Mostly though they run their own kind of show, as David calls it. David flirts with the audience and with Darren, and Darren signs the lyrics of the song as he does his dance. He uses ASL as much as he can, not his special sign, but he had to choose which parts of the lyrics he would sign, because he can’t do all the signs right, since his hands won’t always behave, sometimes not going fast enough and sometimes they simply won’t do the sign properly at all.
We’ve had audiences a lot of the time at our rehearsals, though the fairgrounds would be our first official performance. At first we performed for the staff at Workiva, but eventually Kaya arranged for us to give private practice concerts at City Hall for the council, Bob Loris’s crew, some of the donors we already had on board, and some other people Dr. North found who he thought would be good for us to practice on. This included our parents.
My mom had come to one of the Workiva practices, but when she came backstage after the City Hall dress rehearsal, she hugged me too tight and cried. “My baby boy is all grown up,” she kept saying, which didn’t make any sense because I have been grown up for some time, and there was nothing about dancing and pretending to sing on a stage in downtown Ames that made me any more grown up. But mostly I needed her to stop hugging me so tight.
“Mom, stop.”
She did, but she kissed me on the cheek first. My dad didn’t hug me, but he smiled a bigger smile than usual and told me he was proud of me with his extra-soft voice. My aunt Althea came too, and she didn’t hug me, but she said she thought our costumes were good and she could tell I’d practiced.
“We have. This was a lot of work. But it’s been fun.”
Jeremey stood beside me too. He touched two fingers to my wrist and tapped twice, his silent question to hold my hand. I touched his fingers, telling him yes, I would hold hands with him now. He laced our fingers together and held my hand tight in his as he spoke to my family. “I hope everyone at the show at the fairgrounds likes it too. I hope it makes them join our cause.”
“It will.” This was Kaya, and she had a proud face on as she came to join us. “Dallas County will be the first performance in a long line of performances, but it’s going to be worth it, and in the end we’re going to win. RJ King is going to rue the day he tangled with The Roosevelt Blues Brothers.”
I still wasn’t sure about this, but I hoped she was right.
We kept practicing at The Roosevelt, but soon it was time for us to get in the van with Kaya and go to Adel and get ready for our event. I didn’t get nervous until we were on the road, or at least I hadn’t realized how nervous I was until we were on the road. I hummed and rocked to calm myself, but I had a great deal of nervousness, and my octopus was especially slippery.
Jeremey sat beside me. He didn’t take my hand, was careful not to touch me, but he spoke quietly to me, being my sensory sack. He didn’t tell me how we’d be fine. He talked about other things, taking my mind off it. He pointed out things he saw on the road, other cars, talked about restaurants we might try in Des Moines. “We could go to Zombie Burger. I always wanted to go there.”
Darren held up his iPad, and we waited while he typed. “It’s quite busy there, according to the Internet. Tough to get a table. No reservations either.”
“But they have the one out at the mall now,” David pointed out. “We could get it there and eat in the food court. And if people didn’t want to eat at Zombie Burger, they would have other options.”
Would the mall be too busy for you? I signed to Jeremey.
He signed back, Not with Mai.
Mai was curled on the seat beside him, asleep. He had her vest off because she didn’t have to work at the moment, and she was more comfortable with it off. She got tired after performances, and he wanted to let her rest now as much as she could.
The event was going to be hard on Mai no matter what we did, however. I knew there was no way around that. “We should get her a treat after we finish.”
Jeremey smiled. “She’d like that.”
Darren signed to speak and then held up his iPad again after he typed. “There’s a store in the mall with treats for dogs.”
“Sounds great.” Jeremey stroked Mai’s head, rubbing behind her ears. “You’re an expert on Jordan Creek Mall, Darren. Have you been there a lot?”
We waited while Darren typed his answer. “I’ve never been there, but I’ve done a great deal of research online.” He paused to type some more. “I want to explore it when we’re done eating if we have some spare time.”
“I’m down for some mall cruising.” David craned his neck as much as he could toward us. “Will you let me be your wingman, D-man?”
Darren held out his fist and bumped David awkwardly in the shoulder in reply, adding a happy grunt for emphasis.
Kaya reached for the radio and pushed a CD into the player. “Okay, Emmet, you said you wanted to start warming up when we were fifteen minutes away, and I think that’s about how close we are. You guys ready to get your jam on?”
We said we were, and I appreciated the way our voices sounded—Jeremey’s blended with mine, his Ready tangling with my Yes over the top of Darren’s excited bark and David’s deep Let’s do this thing. It was as if we were already singing. Mai made a small whine too, waking up and wondering why everyone was so excited, though she calmed when Jeremey stroked her fur.
In the performances we never sing, but in the van we do. We weren’t on-key, because only Jeremey and Kaya can hit the notes properly, and Darren can’t get the words out, but we enjoy making the sound. Darren’s favorite parts are the oh, oh, oh, oh, oh-s because he’s good at them, though sometimes he gets excited and does too many or starts laughing or hissing or rocking too hard. It’s okay though, because it’s a Roosevelt Blues Brothers jam. There aren’t any rules.
Kaya kept the song on repeat all the way to the fairgrounds, and we stayed in the van to finish it once we’d parked.
Then it was time to go inside, get into our costumes, and get ready.
The plan was for us to wait backstage while Kaya and a few other people from Workiva helped Bob prep the room. We’d had a big meeting about it, and we’d decided this first time it would be best for the four of us to make a big entrance before we gave our presentation. Kaya had invited the local news stations and newspapers, and she came backstage before she went out to let us know the room was full of cameras and reporters, and we should expect lots of lights and flashes when we went out.
“It’s a full house. Bob came through with his contacts.” She seemed happy, but worried, especially as she looked at Jeremey. “Will you guys be okay with so many people?”
Jeremey nodded. “I’ve been practicing my breathing, and Mai has been comforting me. She knows I’m uneasy, and we’re working together. I can’t promise I’ll be fine, but I’m doing my best, and I believe I can do it.”
Kaya hugged him, then David, then made the hug sign to Darren and me. “I’m so proud of you guys. You’re going to be fantastic, I just know it. And you look amazing. Dan Aykroyd would think he was staring at a mirror, Emmet.”
I did a little of my Elwood Blues dance, then smiled.
It was difficult to wait, because we got nervous with nothing to do but listen to the murmur of the crowd and Kaya’s and Bob’s voices. I could hear what they were saying, mostly, but even with my super hearing it was difficult to make out individual words. Jeremey hugged Mai, burying his face in her fur. Darren rocked in his seat, absorbed in a video on his iPad. David didn’t do much, only stared at the curtain separating us from the stage where we’d be going out as soon as they told us it was time.
I worried if this was a good idea. I worried if we were good enough to do this. I worried people think we were awkward or weird, not the cool Roosevelt Blues Brothers we knew we were. I worried they would laugh at us and the magic we always felt when we put on these clothes and sang this song would be taken away.
And then the stage manager told us it was time to go out and go to our places, and I had to tell the octopus to be good, because it was showtime. It hovered over my head, trembling as the curtain parted and the lights hit us.
The music began, and The Roosevelt Blues Brothers did too.
This is why we did all the rehearsals, because there was something about wearing those costumes, our music playing, that made everything okay. We simply followed the song and let it carry us through the routine. At first I simply moved like a robot, but as I saw the audience was excited and happy for us, I relaxed and let my Elwood show, especially when I had my solo dance. I got brave when I danced with Jeremey too, my heart racing as I spun him and dipped him. Darren and David were getting into it as well—we were all having so much fun. So was the audience. It was everything we’d ever wanted the performance to be. People were clapping along and swaying in their seats, smiling at us.
When the song finished, they cheered and stood up, whistling and clapping for a long time. It was time for me to go make my speech, a modified version of what I’d said to the city council, but I couldn’t move at first because I was so surprised by how many people were there and how happy they were to see us. How much they enjoyed our dance.
Maybe we have the algorithm after all.
I wasn’t sure. But for once my octopus wriggled in excitement, not fear, as I went to stand behind the podium, and when I rocked in place and let out a hum before I approached the mic, it was because I was happy, not because I was scared.
Our Roosevelt Blues Brothers Tour went well wherever we went.
The format changed after the first performance, and now I came out first and gave my speech before joining the other Brothers on the stage and doing our dance. We often did press interviews afterward, and sometimes we talked to people from the audience, but Bob and Kaya always carefully controlled who approached us and how. David did most of the interviews since he was the most social, though he started keeping Darren with him, insisting he needed his wingman. I began to think he was trying to get people to see Darren as more of a person, because since he was quiet they often ignored him and didn’t ask him for interviews. David also made them be patient and wait for Darren to type his replies on his iPad, though sometimes he translated for Darren and read his sign language for the interviewers.
I did some of the interviews too, but usually I was too overstimulated after the speech and the performance to do much and had to schedule them for another time after I recovered. Jeremey didn’t do any, not during the events, though he did agree a few times to talk to people about Mai and how she’d helped him with his social anxiety. Dr. North got involved too, not as our therapist but as an expert in the field, talking about the importance of mental health care.
This was my mother’s doing. She had been helping too, though not like Bob or Kaya. She’d been building up support for The Roosevelt Foundation by talking to other doctors and people in the medical profession about the importance of a strong mental health network in the state and why we need to stand up for it before it’s completely dismantled. So when our first performance got the media interested in writing stories about the importance of mental health facilities and how positive impacts can make a difference in the lives of patients and the communities, my mom was there with experts lined up to do interviews, and one of the most popular people to do those interviews was Dr. North.
I enjoyed listening to his interviews. He sounded the way he did in our sessions, and I wondered if he was giving therapy to the reporters and they didn’t know it. I decided this was something he would do but didn’t bring it up as I didn’t want to point it out and ruin the surprise. There were a number of stories in the news now about our performances and about the mental health facilities closing, a lot of interviews about us. We were a viral Internet hit again, though this time there were all kinds of videos of us, from the Dallas County event, and one in Johnson County, and another in Cedar Falls, and another in Fairfield.
We did a great deal of traveling in April and May, and I did get somewhat tired of it, but it was an important cause, and so I did my best to accept it. Sometimes we had to stay in a hotel, which wasn’t as nice, but I always roomed with Jeremey which was fun. He preferred the hotels, especially when they were bed and breakfasts and we had fancy rooms, but most of the time we had to stay at actual hotels because the bed and breakfasts weren’t accessible enough for David’s chair.
When we were in eastern Iowa, Darren got excited because he knew a lot more about everything since this was where he grew up. I did too, but I hadn’t been there as long as he was, and his parents still lived there. We also stopped and saw Darren’s family, who were happy to see us. They hugged David and Bob too, and they cried as they thanked Bob for giving Darren a better place to stay. Bob didn’t cry, but his voice was gruff and his eyes damp as he told them he was doing all he could to get more young adults such as Darren a safe place to live.
We stayed at Darren’s house in Iowa City, some of us anyway. David went to a hotel with his dad and Kaya, but Jeremey and Darren and I stayed at Darren’s house. Darren showed us his old room and his computer collection, toys, and the things he’d collected. He’d always enjoyed tech, especially computers, and he had some interesting pieces, including some old hardware from the 1980s that couldn’t access the Internet. He showed us some fun 8-bit games and computer software programs that used to be advanced but were less complicated than a coffee maker nowadays.
Mai liked Darren’s house because they had a fenced-in backyard, and she and Jeremey had fun while Darren’s family barbecued. While the family cooked and Jeremey and Mai played, Darren signed me a story about something he’d read online, about a girl with cerebral palsy who lived in Connecticut who had been almost killed by her grandparents when her parents had left her with them for too long.
Why did they try to kill her? I signed this to him, because he was using his iPad to show me the news article. Did she do something bad?
No. But her disability is severe, and they were tired of caring for her, and the parents kept leaving her behind with the grandparents while the parents went away on vacations. The grandparents got overwhelmed and angry, and when they couldn’t get anyone else to help take care of the granddaughter, they decided they would get rid of her themselves. They tried to make it look as if it were an accident. They wanted the insurance money and to not have to deal with the hassle anymore.
I thought of how much of a hassle I had been when I was young, how I had kicked and hit and bit and slammed my head into walls until I’d been able to control my octopus better. I felt sad and had to hum and rock. Those are bad people, those grandparents. I hope they go to jail.
I think they will, but, Emmet, this is another problem The Roosevelt Blues Brothers need to help. There are too many people who think it’s okay to hurt people like us, to call us burdens, to tease us and kick us and try to kill us. Even people who are supposed to love us. Once we win with RJ King and the legislature, can we try to do something about this?
Sometimes I still wasn’t sure we were going to win, but I didn’t want to be negative and say so. I nodded and signed yes too for emphasis. You know we’ll keep fighting. We’re The Roosevelt Blues Brothers. Nothing can stop us. I didn’t know how we could help people like this girl yet, but we could find a way. When I was with the Blues Brothers and Kaya and Bob, I felt as if I could do anything.
Darren barked a laugh and held his hand up for a high-five. I met it and grinned back, and then we sat together, rocking as we watched our friends and families have a quiet evening.
I didn’t always enjoy the traveling. I missed my apartment and my train tracks and my routine, but I enjoyed believing we were doing something important, that though I couldn’t put it into a formula, it seemed as if an algorithm was working. We did have some data, the number of people who had joined the foundation as donors and people who had pledged to call their representatives, and Kaya had been in contact with another, more political organization tracking the projected vote totals for the bill. It was complicated because they had to lobby the representatives and the senators both, though the strategy they were using was to kill the measure in the lower chamber so it didn’t go higher. What Kaya said was if it passed the Iowa House, it would definitely pass the senate and be signed by the governor. So we had to stop it now, or there would be no stopping it.
Everyone kept telling me they were sure we would win, that the bill wouldn’t pass, and I wanted to believe them. But to be honest the fact that we had to lip sync and dance and I had to keep giving speeches and put Darren’s and my autism and David’s quadriplegia and Jeremey’s social anxiety on display to get people’s attention made me realize how much people had been ignoring us all this time. I had been aware of this truth my whole life, but our tour helped me see it in a new way, and sometimes I felt hopeless and angry. Why did I have to get on a stage and perform to get the same rights as other people? Part of me thought it didn’t matter, this was what I had to do to win, and then I wondered if I was another version of RJ King, if this was me cheating on the algorithm.
I asked Dr. North about it in therapy, and I could tell my question surprised him. His eyebrows quivered, and he put his hand over his mouth, which is his big-thinking gesture. I rocked and waited for him to answer.
“An astute observation,” he said at last. “But no, I don’t think it makes you the same as RJ King, not in the way you imply. There is some similarity, I suppose, in that you both manipulate public opinion for your own use. But this is true in essentially all communication. I’m manipulating your thoughts right now. The key, however, is I go to great lengths to invite you to consider possibilities, not scold or lure you into false ideals. For example, I would ask you to think about the difference between your presentation and King’s. Your part of the presentation in particular. You offer your story and your feelings, and then you step aside, inviting people to make their own choices. You do your best to present a compelling argument, yes. But then you don’t remain involved. How do you think King compares to how I see your method?”
I considered this. “King is more aggressive. He tells people how to think. It doesn’t sound as if this is what he’s doing, but I’ve watched him a lot. Darren discovered videos of him at events online. He uses his smile like a weapon. People who are moved by social cues are distracted by it and don’t notice that when he smiles he’s telling them how to think and feel.”
“I would agree with you, having met the man myself. Is his behavior similar to how you think you behave at your events for the foundation?”
“Hmmm. No.” I rocked and hummed some more, the simple idea of such a thing upsetting to me.
“Then no, Emmet. I don’t think you’re anything like RJ King.”
I decided Dr. North was right, and it made me feel better. I had another question for him, though, and I hoped he would be able to be as much help with this one as well. “I also wanted to talk to you about proposing to Jeremey.”
Dr. North smiled bigger. “Yes? Have you decided you’re ready?”
“Yes. But I also decided I need to make it special for Jeremey when I ask, except I don’t know how to do it.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Special how? What do you mean?”
“Jeremey is sentimental. I’m not, and I don’t need anything fancy to happen when I ask him to marry me, but I think Jeremey would enjoy it. Except every time I try to come up with something he’d like, I end up rocking and humming in my sensory sack.”
“Have you tried talking to your mother about this? Or are you trying to not talk to your mother about this?”
“You know my mother. She would get too excited. Plus it doesn’t feel grown up to have her helping.”
“I’ll allow you this point. Though I would advise you to let her help with the wedding. She excels at that kind of planning, and neither you nor Jeremey will find the finer details of it to your liking.” He tapped his finger on the side of his cheek. “Well, let’s break it down. What are the types of things you know you need to include, and avoid, in your proposal for Jeremey?”
“It needs to be romantic, but not busy or crowded. In fact I think it would be better if it were only the two of us.”
“There, that’s one part of the decision made or narrowed. Somewhere private. All right, we have private and romantic. Next element?”
What else would Jeremey want? “He would want Mai to be there.”
“Arranging Mai’s presence would be easy enough. What else?”
It was tough work, and he asked me a lot of questions, but the questions made me think, and in the end I had a good idea of what I wanted to do, how I would ask Jeremey. Now all I had to do was make the arrangements and actually do the asking.
“Thank you, Dr. North. This conversation was helpful.”
“My pleasure. Do you have rings chosen, or will you save those for the ceremony?”
“I have rings, engagements bands, and wedding bands to add for the wedding picked out. I haven’t bought them, but I know what I want to purchase.” Jeremey would want something on his hand while we waited to get married, and I did too. If he didn’t want them, we could exchange them, but I knew Jeremey would appreciate the ones I’d picked out. I knew what he liked.
“Then the best of luck to you. Except I’m quite certain you’ll have no trouble getting the answer you want out of your young man.” He winked at me.
I didn’t wink back, but I smiled as big as I could. Because I was pretty certain too.