5
Alina
Rolling over, I groan as my phone starts growling and vibrating, alerting me to a new group text message. The familiar sound of the Monster Roar sound effect I chose for Happenstance chat rumbles again and again in the stillness of the morning’s silence. Reaching for my phone, I glance at the clock. It’s early. Really fucking early for a Sunday. Six thirty a.m. early. Paisley.
Paisley: OMFG wake up ladies!!!
Roar!
Paisley: WAKE UP!!!!!
Roar!
Our band’s lead singer messages again.
Paisley: GUYS!!!! PLEASE WAKE UP!!!!!!!
Paisley: Emergency band meeting at 8. Big news!
Roar!
Roar!
Siobhán: i’m nowhere ready to get out of my bed yet, even to pee! message me in like two hours.
I laugh at the reply from our drummer. She and Paisley are ridiculous, and oh-so crazy when they’re together. Since they live practically next door to one another, I’m a little fearful for Paisley’s safety for messaging her at this hour. Siobhán is all about her sleep.
Paisley: BUT I HAVE BIG NEWS!
Siobhán: don’t be vague. and stop shouting at us. spill, so i can decide if i should awaken from my beauty slumber. and were we not together just a few hours ago???? i need some time away from you bitches.
I laugh at the messages. These are my girls, always making me smile. I don’t know what I would do without them, or if I’ve ever told them that.
We are four unlikely friends who found and forged a sisterhood through music when we all met in Mr. Sopal’s music class back in Grade 10. I was a lonely girl, caught in a battle not only at home but also in my head, and Mr. Sopal with his enthusiastic way of teaching music, his “drop-in” style of open practice times before and after school, helped to foster my passion and love for music so much that I often found myself in the band room, playing whenever I had a spare minute.
I had always been naturally gifted at picking up music, something I learned early on when I was in Grade Three. Ms. McRea introduced us to the recorder, and I fell in love with the feeling of making music. It’s something I’ve held on to as the years have passed. I had started playing the guitar with my dad after that day in class with Ms. McRea. Dad used to love to play. We’d sit out back on the porch, him with his old Yamaha acoustic, and me with my Walmart kid-sized special he’d surprised me with one day. I’d follow his lead, strumming in time, learning his music, his way. “Wheat Kings” by the Tragically Hip was the first song I learned to play by ear. Dad would always smile, and say, “You’re a natural, kiddo. I have a feeling you could play anything if you tried.” This was often followed up with, “Ali, always turn to the music, it sets the soul free.”
And he was right. It did.
My dad helped fan the fire within me with his words and encouragement. And once it was lit, not even my aunt could extinguish it. But, trust me, she tried.
“Guitar playing is for druggies,” she told me when I asked for an electric guitar for my twelfth birthday, having fully grown out of dad’s gift.
When I joined the school’s stage band in Grade Nine, she forced me to switch to piano after the first time I brought home my assigned violin. “Violins are for whiners, and the McQueens are not whiners, Alina!” She kept saying how a classically-trained musician was what would be expected from a McQueen, and nothing less (somehow, she failed to recognize one of the most classic instruments—the violin—as a classical instrument). So I took the small black case back to Mr. Sopal and told him my aunt wanted me switched to the piano. I spent many evenings over the years learning the classical piano pieces Aunt Liz would lay out each night, getting in trouble when I’d mix in a little “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen or “Clocks” by Coldplay if I was feeling particularly rebellious. It didn’t matter though, knowing I could play those songs made Liz’s wrath so fucking worth it, because despite my natural ability, never once did a word of praise fall from her lips.
Writing lyrics and learning various instruments by ear became an outlet for me when I was at my lowest points. I guess I’m a bit of a prodigy that way. Playing different instruments—like the piano, and, secretly, the guitar and the violin—in music class, after school, and at band practice became an escape when things at home were at their hardest. And Mr. Sopal, by his encouragement and introducing me to my future bandmates, forged my love for music even more.
My favourite instrument, though, was always the electric guitar. I can sing a little, too, when pushed, but I’m nothing compared to the talents of Paisley (nor do I need that kind of pressure in my life), so for the time being I stick to the background where I feel most comfortable.
When Paisley, Rox, Shiv, and I formed Happenstance, we all slipped easily into our roles: Paisley our lead singer (whom I’m closest to), Siobhán (pronounced Shiv-on) on drums, Roxie playing bass guitar with some vocals, and myself on lead guitar and back-up vocals. It all seemed to click that year in Grade Ten when Mr. Sopal suggested the four of us join together and perform as a band for the annual talent show. He thought we were good musical matches for one another, and he was right. We’ve been playing small venues like coffee houses, a few weddings, and local bars ever since, and recently added our weekly gig at Fyst to our schedule. Now, at twenty-three, I couldn’t ask for a better group of friends, or a better distraction, even though they text so early in the damn morning.
Roar!
Paisley: Not a chance. Be there, ladies—Rusty’s at 8!!!
Me: Okay, I’ll be there. Might be a little after eight. Joys of public transit.
Roxie: 8AM or PM?
Paisley: 8 a.m.!
Roxie: This better be fucking good!
Paisley: It’s better than good, it’s epic!!!!!! No worries Ali.
Siobhán: you suck. but i’ll be there.
Paisley: Good. That’s what he said!!! LOL
Me: har har, oh lord.
Paisley: He said that too!!
Me: You sure singing is your thing? I hear there’s a comedy open mic nite at McCool’s Thursday.
Paisley: Now who’s the funny one? Adios, bitchachos!!!
God, I love these girls, I beam, placing my phone back on my distressed cherry wood nightstand. Stretching, I lie still for another few minutes before making my way to the ensuite to get ready.