LITMIR.BIZ

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of Broad would be playing in their midst. The band looked sharp in their summer attire—off-white slacks with matching floral short-sleeved shirts—as they joined hands and bowed to their audience, acknowledging their gratitude for the popularity they had achieved there in the past year and a half…an amazing feat, actually, for four boys just now graduating from high school.

      Not that they hadn’t earned the accolades, mind you. Ryan and Julian were the young Lennon and McCartney of Charleston, both incredibly talented in their own unique ways, with Julian being more the thinker, philosopher, and lyricist, while Ryan was something of a musical genius, effortlessly translating Julian’s ideas into music and playing at least three instruments with incredible finesse for an eighteen-year-old. It was Ryan’s stage presence, however, that was the big draw for the band, as he also possessed that remarkable charisma of a natural leader, and always maintained an incredible connection with audiences wherever they played.

      Tonight, he wiped a tear from his eye as he looked out into the crowd and saw his family—parents, Martin and Cathy, plus sister Sara—and the Russells standing next to them, waving their arms and cheering for their sons. Julian’s parents were almost indistinguishable from his own in Ryan’s mind, having been friends with Julian and his family since kindergarten. Living literally a stone’s throw away—the Russell home on Meeting Street and the Christie residence backing up to it on Church Street—the boys always had ample opportunity for overt and secret rendezvous. There was a gate in a wall between the two properties that they scampered through many times a day as children and still used regularly to this day. The timeless elegance of old Charleston was in their blood, and the thought of leaving their singularly unique city was almost overwhelming.

      As the two boys stood there with their bandmates, taking in the applause and appreciation from friends and families they had known all their lives, they couldn’t help but mourn their upcoming loss and wonder if they were making the right choice.

      Julian was especially skeptical of their decision and reluctant to leave the only home he had ever known. As was often the case, he had let Ryan talk him into “flying the coop” and testing their wings in unknown territory, but right now, he felt like they might have made a big mistake. He loved Charleston—its timeless traditions, venerable history, genteel lifestyle, and overall predictability—all of which would be notably absent in the new surroundings. The band had been fun, too; he truly enjoyed writing songs and performing. Although pretty much always in Ryan’s shadow, he really didn’t mind that, for now at least. It took the pressure off of him and allowed him to be more of the quiet, pensive person that he was. Ryan, on the other hand, was always a bit over the edge, at least in Julian’s estimation, but that was what made it all such a hoot. He enjoyed Ryan’s charisma, spontaneity, and winsome way with the crowd. It actually brought more incidental recognition to him than he ever would have achieved on his own. The limelight sometimes did filter out in his direction, too, like this evening, and that was more than enough.

      Sadly, when it came to personal vision and sense of direction, Julian, at least at this point in his life, was at a total loss. He lacked the clear-cut goals and unfaltering tenacity that Ryan always seemed to have. This current lack of purpose and sense of identity made their upcoming departure all the more upsetting to Julian. With no overriding vision to motivate him, apart from Ryan, he probably would have been content just to hang around Charleston and his family until he began to figure out the course of his future. “Too late now, though,” he mumbled reluctantly to himself. Alea iacta est! (the die is cast!)

      Obviously, both sets of parents had expected their sons to continue on at the Citadel, or the College of Charleston, but it was pretty clear, at least to Ryan, that it was time to leave the nest—the security and tradition of old Charleston—and get out on their own. The West Coast, with its more liberal thinking and unconventional lifestyles, seemed particularly appealing to him, and far enough away to discourage frequent parental visits. He and Julian had made several trips “out West” since the beginning of their senior year, looking for just the right spot, and had finally decided on Portland as a nice mix of California and Washington. Their applications to Portland State University had been accepted, with Ryan pursuing a degree in biochemistry and Julian still struggling to find his niche, leaning more toward philosophy and psychology. They were both excited, in varying degrees, to be embarking shortly on their new lives apart from parents, but the emotion of leaving Charleston was still overpowering at the moment.

      Julian looked over at Ryan and whispered, “I sure hope we’re doin’ the right thing here, Ry…you know, skippin’ out on our home and all. I’m pretty sad to be leaving the band AND all our friends and family, aren’t you?”

      “Yeah,” Ryan whispered back, still smiling out to the crowd as he wiped the last of the tears from his cheek. “There’s nothing like home and family,” he agreed, “but it’s time to move on, don’t you think? We can start another band, but we’ve lived in Charleston all our lives. We’ve gotta see something new, and try livin’ on our own for a while. It’s just time, Jules.”

      “I guess,” Julian somewhat hesitantly concurred as the applause finally faded and they set their instruments down. “Uh-oh, here come the parents!”

      “Hey, you guys!” shouted Martin Christie. “Great show! I loved that last song—hadn’t heard that since I was growing up! What a cool rendition too! Your band has really gotten a lot better since the last time I heard you…shame you’ll be leaving all that behind.”

      “We agree,” seconded Mrs. Russell. “It’s never too late to reconsider and go to the College of Charleston. You could keep your band, live at home and…”

      “Mom!” Julian interrupted, “enough! We’ve already been down this road. We love you all, but it’s really time to get out on our own. At least we’ll be together, so you won’t have to worry too much.”

      Maggie Russell rolled her eyes as Cathy Christie smiled at Julian and added, “Ry being with you is probably not nearly as comforting to Maggie as you being with him is to me!” she laughed, knowing full well that her son was by far the more adventurous of the two and had always benefited from Julian’s reserved and less spontaneous nature. “Anyway, you guys have to leave home sometime, so I guess we should make the best of it. We’re going to walk down to the seawall and watch the fireworks…y’all care to join us?”

      “Later, Mom,” Ryan interjected. “We’ve gotta get all this stuff packed up and out of here first. I wouldn’t want to lose my new guitar!” he beamed, looking down at the cherry-red 1964 Gibson SG Standard that his parents had given him for graduation.

      “You got that right!” Martin agreed. “That guitar was about two weeks’ salary for me, so you’d better take good care of it!” he grinned. “Sounded great, too—that’s the first time I’ve seen you play it, in the band at least.”

      “Well, you just need to get out and see us more often,” Ryan chided. “This is about the tenth time I’ve used it since y’all gave it to me. I really love it, though. Thanks, Dad and Mom!”

      “You’re welcome, son,” Martin replied as Cathy was pulling him toward the water.

      “We’re very proud of you and Julian. I hope you’ll get a lot of use out of that guitar out West.”

      “That’s the plan,” Ryan concurred as he carefully placed the prized guitar in its case. “We’ll see you guys later, and thanks for coming. It was good to see you all out there!”

      “Wouldn’t have missed it for anything!” Keith Russell chimed in. “The band sounded great—hard to believe it was our own sons up there,” he beamed. “Guess we’ll see you tomorrow, Ry?”

      “Sure thing, Mr. Russell. Dad, I’ll catch up with you and Mom soon.”

      “Thanks again, everybody!” Julian seconded, looking around for his bass case. “Where did I put that thing?” he muttered to himself, searching through a tangle of wires and amplifiers until he finally located it toward the back of the bandstand. “You gonna watch the fireworks?” he asked, looking over at the band’s drummer, Kyle Kennedy.

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