![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smackenzieThe first thing Laurie did when he got home, after he took off his jacket and threw his motorcycle helmet in the closet but before he checked his answering machine, was make some coffee. It helped him think.
When he felt sufficiently caffienated he pushed the play button on his answering machine. Most of the messages were from Bader Glassman, and they all basically boiled down to "Where the hell are you? I need to talk to you." He left three different phone numbers - his house, his mom's house, and his cell phone. Laurie figured he'd avoid calling Mrs Glassman's house as long as he could, because what would he say to her if she answered the phone? "Hi, Mrs Glassman, I'm Laurie Dolan, I was friends with Gunther, we were fuckbuddies for a while...." Uh... no.
The only other message on his machine was from his own mom, who wanted to know if he wanted to come over for dinner on Sunday. He called her back first, because it was easier than calling Bader, and said yeah, sure, he'd love to come over, he was working brunch at the restaurant so he might be kind of tired but when should he come over? Six-thirty? No problem. Bye Mom, love you.
He had to make a conscious effort not to think about how Mrs Glassman would never hear that from Gunther ever again. Jesus, what was he thinking? Or WAS he thinking? Maybe not.
Laurie called Bader's house, got the voice mail, left a message, and then called the cell number and got the guy on the phone.
"It's Laurie," Laurie said. "I'm really sorry about Gunther."
"Laurie...?" Bader sounded a little confused and a little out of breath.
"Dolan. You called me a whole bunch of times last night? Lea Hayden found me this morning."
"Oh, right, sorry. Everything's kind of a mess."
"Yeah, I can imagine. Lea told me about your brother. She said he wanted me to play at his funeral?"
"That's what his note said. The funeral service is at eleven at Westoak Cemetery but there's a viewing at the funeral home starting at ten. We're not having an open coffin. If possible I'd like everyone to be at the funeral home by ten-thirty or ten-forty-five at the latest so no one gets lost in the cemetery." Now he sounded official instead of slightly baffled. Laurie could just guess he'd been telling people this stuff for a few hours already.
"What funeral home?"
"Pryor Brothers. It's on West Terry Street, about ten minutes from the cemetery. Lea probably told you the funeral's Monday."
"Yeah. I'll be there." He wondered why it sounded like Gunther wasn't going to be cremated.
"I know his note said he wanted to be cremated," Bader said, as if he'd heard Laurie's thoughts. "Mom pitched a fit. She asked me to take care of everything because she just couldn't do it, but she didn't want him cremated. She said he'd never get to Heaven that way." Now Laurie could almost hear Bader roll his eyes. "Anyway, yeah, that's about it. Gunther's note did say he wanted you to play at the service - he was pretty specific about how he wanted the service to go. He wants... you know Leonard Cohen, right?"
"A little bit."
"Jeff Buckley?"
"A little better."
"The song 'Hallelujah,' that's what Gunther wanted you to play. And sing, too."
"Just me?"
"That's what he said."
"Did his note say why?" Laurie suddenly remembered having a discussion about that very song, him and Gunther out one night in a bar with a bunch of other people, the two of them sitting at one end of the table having a kind of impassioned, obsessive music-geek argument about the merits of Leonard's version versus Jeff's version versus did they know Rufus Wainwright had recorded it too? The kind of argument music nerds had with each other when they'd drunk a couple of beers and were feeling particularly possessive about their favorite singer-songwriters. Had Gunther remembered it too, right before he killed himself?
"No," Bader said. "Just that he wanted you to play it because that song had special significance for him, and he'd always liked you. He knew you'd do it justice."
"I'll try," Laurie said. Well, he could do better than try, couldn't he?
"The announcement might make it into the late edition of the paper today, otherwise it'll be in tomorrow's. Gunther wants donations to the charity of your choice instead of flowers. Support the local music scene. Anything else? Did I cover everything?"
"Yeah, I think I got it. I'll be at the funeral home at ten. Pryor Brothers?"
"Right. Oh, I don't think the cemetery's going to want you to bring an amp - could you play an acoustic?"
"Sure." Except now he had to find one. Bran had an acoustic guitar, or in a pinch one of Lea's brothers had played one for a while, Cuban folk music mostly. But Bran's was probably newer and had a better tone because he would have been taking care of it, and Laurie would see him tomorrow anyway.
"Thanks. I still have a lot of people to call - if you see any of Gunther's friends could you tell them?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry, Bader, he was a great guy. I never would've thought he'd kill himself."
"Yeah, well, I thought he was being a little more careful. I thought he was smarter than that. Guess we all have misconceptions."
"Guess so. Bye."
"Take care," Bader said, and hung up. Laurie hung up his end and just stood there for a minute. He knew "Hallelujah" but he should probably refresh his memory, and then he had to be at the restaurant at four for the dinner shift. Yay. And sometime during the day he should shower and shave. Well, better get to it.
words: 985
total words: 44,430
When he felt sufficiently caffienated he pushed the play button on his answering machine. Most of the messages were from Bader Glassman, and they all basically boiled down to "Where the hell are you? I need to talk to you." He left three different phone numbers - his house, his mom's house, and his cell phone. Laurie figured he'd avoid calling Mrs Glassman's house as long as he could, because what would he say to her if she answered the phone? "Hi, Mrs Glassman, I'm Laurie Dolan, I was friends with Gunther, we were fuckbuddies for a while...." Uh... no.
The only other message on his machine was from his own mom, who wanted to know if he wanted to come over for dinner on Sunday. He called her back first, because it was easier than calling Bader, and said yeah, sure, he'd love to come over, he was working brunch at the restaurant so he might be kind of tired but when should he come over? Six-thirty? No problem. Bye Mom, love you.
He had to make a conscious effort not to think about how Mrs Glassman would never hear that from Gunther ever again. Jesus, what was he thinking? Or WAS he thinking? Maybe not.
Laurie called Bader's house, got the voice mail, left a message, and then called the cell number and got the guy on the phone.
"It's Laurie," Laurie said. "I'm really sorry about Gunther."
"Laurie...?" Bader sounded a little confused and a little out of breath.
"Dolan. You called me a whole bunch of times last night? Lea Hayden found me this morning."
"Oh, right, sorry. Everything's kind of a mess."
"Yeah, I can imagine. Lea told me about your brother. She said he wanted me to play at his funeral?"
"That's what his note said. The funeral service is at eleven at Westoak Cemetery but there's a viewing at the funeral home starting at ten. We're not having an open coffin. If possible I'd like everyone to be at the funeral home by ten-thirty or ten-forty-five at the latest so no one gets lost in the cemetery." Now he sounded official instead of slightly baffled. Laurie could just guess he'd been telling people this stuff for a few hours already.
"What funeral home?"
"Pryor Brothers. It's on West Terry Street, about ten minutes from the cemetery. Lea probably told you the funeral's Monday."
"Yeah. I'll be there." He wondered why it sounded like Gunther wasn't going to be cremated.
"I know his note said he wanted to be cremated," Bader said, as if he'd heard Laurie's thoughts. "Mom pitched a fit. She asked me to take care of everything because she just couldn't do it, but she didn't want him cremated. She said he'd never get to Heaven that way." Now Laurie could almost hear Bader roll his eyes. "Anyway, yeah, that's about it. Gunther's note did say he wanted you to play at the service - he was pretty specific about how he wanted the service to go. He wants... you know Leonard Cohen, right?"
"A little bit."
"Jeff Buckley?"
"A little better."
"The song 'Hallelujah,' that's what Gunther wanted you to play. And sing, too."
"Just me?"
"That's what he said."
"Did his note say why?" Laurie suddenly remembered having a discussion about that very song, him and Gunther out one night in a bar with a bunch of other people, the two of them sitting at one end of the table having a kind of impassioned, obsessive music-geek argument about the merits of Leonard's version versus Jeff's version versus did they know Rufus Wainwright had recorded it too? The kind of argument music nerds had with each other when they'd drunk a couple of beers and were feeling particularly possessive about their favorite singer-songwriters. Had Gunther remembered it too, right before he killed himself?
"No," Bader said. "Just that he wanted you to play it because that song had special significance for him, and he'd always liked you. He knew you'd do it justice."
"I'll try," Laurie said. Well, he could do better than try, couldn't he?
"The announcement might make it into the late edition of the paper today, otherwise it'll be in tomorrow's. Gunther wants donations to the charity of your choice instead of flowers. Support the local music scene. Anything else? Did I cover everything?"
"Yeah, I think I got it. I'll be at the funeral home at ten. Pryor Brothers?"
"Right. Oh, I don't think the cemetery's going to want you to bring an amp - could you play an acoustic?"
"Sure." Except now he had to find one. Bran had an acoustic guitar, or in a pinch one of Lea's brothers had played one for a while, Cuban folk music mostly. But Bran's was probably newer and had a better tone because he would have been taking care of it, and Laurie would see him tomorrow anyway.
"Thanks. I still have a lot of people to call - if you see any of Gunther's friends could you tell them?"
"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry, Bader, he was a great guy. I never would've thought he'd kill himself."
"Yeah, well, I thought he was being a little more careful. I thought he was smarter than that. Guess we all have misconceptions."
"Guess so. Bye."
"Take care," Bader said, and hung up. Laurie hung up his end and just stood there for a minute. He knew "Hallelujah" but he should probably refresh his memory, and then he had to be at the restaurant at four for the dinner shift. Yay. And sometime during the day he should shower and shave. Well, better get to it.
words: 985
total words: 44,430
no subject
Date: 2003-11-21 01:30 pm (UTC)I think that dialogue sounded very real.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-23 03:46 pm (UTC)