Drummed Up

Life was good.

Like many other young boys his age, Richie was through with school the moment the dismissal bell began to ring. But while his classmates waited around for buses or loitered around the basketball court, Richie left in a hurry. He had something much better waiting for him.

"Have a good day, Richard." a teacher called out as Richie passed her.

"Thanks!" he replied. It was nice to finally live someplace where the teachers knew his name. His family had moved so many times in his short life that he never bothered to learn anyone's names, either. Now Richie knew plenty of names: Ryan, Renee, Kid, Stacy, and Connie, and their band, Kids Incorporated.

Even behind the drums, Richie could feel the audience's excitement as Kids Inc. began singing. It was so great to be able to get away from all those school rules and just enjoy some good music. And to think I nearly blew it, he thought to himself. Lucky for him, the Kids saw past his tall tales to the boy he really was. But it was hard to stop blabbing. No one had ever listened to his wild schemes before - and he had a million of them!

Once their number was over, the kids headed to their usual spots at the bar, waiting on Riley.

"And like magic...as soon as I open up the ice cream, hungry kids appear." joked Riley as he began to serve them.

Richie's enthusiasm was still bubbling over, and he started drumming on the counter. Renee was nearest to him, and she glared at him over her shoulder until he stopped.

"Are you guys going to the school play?" Connie was asking them all.

"Who'd have thought rocking out "The Wizard of Oz" would be such a hit that they'd do it every year?" wondered The Kid.

"That might have something to do with its star." said Ryan, and everyone agreed that Stacy had made the show a success.

Stacy blushed. "I feel bad that they wanted me to do it again this year, but I was too busy. I did volunteer to be the Wicked Witch of the East, though."

Connie pulled a face. "Didn't the house fall on her?"

"Exactly!"

"I wondered why a pair of your shoes was missing." Renee chuckled at her sister. When she saw Richie leap off his barstool and attempt to join the conversation, she muttered, "Oh, don't look now - the winged monkeys are here."

Whether Richie heard her or not, he didn't show it. "That reminds me of a joke." he said gaily.

"So let's have it." said Ryan.

Richie's face lit up at the thought of being included. "Knock, knock!"

"Who's there?" everyone asked.

"House."

"House who?"

"House everyone doing?"

They all groaned, which was not exactly the reaction Richie'd hoped for.

"We were fine 'til you told that joke." quipped The Kid, and everyone laughed.

I wish I could make them laugh like you do, thought Richie. "Wait, wait, I've got another one!" he exclaimed. "Hey, Riley - knock, knock!"

"Who's there, Richie?"

"Lettuce."

"Lettuce who?"

"Lettuce have some ice cream for free?"  No one laughed this time.

"Nice try, Richie, but, uh...no can do. Tell ya what I will do, though: you can come back and pay up after your next number...c'mon, you guys." The kids reluctantly put down their spoons and straws and shuffled off to the stage.

"That was a brilliant plan," Renee said as Richie joined the others, "in Bizarro World!"

Fortunately for Richie, no one could see his shoulders slumped behind the drums.

"Knock, knock!"

Richie was determined to win somebody over. It was as if he couldn't see that they already liked him - or would, if he'd let up with the jokes.

The Kid rolled his eyes, but said, "Who's there?", anyway.

"Dozen."

"Dozen who?"

"Dozen anyone wanna hear another knock knock joke?"

"NO!" snapped Renee. "Unless you want to do my Math homework."  Nearly everyone was hunched over a textbook as they struggled to complete various assignments.

Ryan glanced over at her notebook and then at his own. "Trade you for some essay questions."

"Deal!" Renee said gladly, and they swapped.

Undaunted, Richie sought out another victim. "Knock, knock!" he called to Connie.

"If you don't answer him, he'll stop." Renee warned.

But Connie was already replying. "Who's there?"

"Ken."

"Ken who?"

"Ken I tell you another joke?"

Renee threw down her borrowed assignment and turned around in her chair. "Do you mean to tell me you have absolutely nothing to do?"   When she got no answer, she turned back towards the table and an unsuspecting Ryan. "You have terrible handwriting.  I can't make out a word of this.  They let you turn this in? Don't cross your sevens!" she scolded, slapping his hand as she noticed what he was doing. "Are you even paying attention?"

"That's it - you're going in the corner, young man!" Kid teased, wagging his finger in a very authentic Renee impression.  He received the same punishment. "Ow!  I write with this hand!"

"Well, you haven't lately!" scolded Renee. "No wonder you're failing."

"For your information, I am not failing!" said Kid.  Quietly he added, "A 'D' is still passing."

Stacy had come in at the tail-end of the tongue-lashing. "Uh-oh.  Who's in trouble?"

"I think you were cast well this year, too, Stace." was all Ryan said.

"Don't look at me! I finished all my homework, stacked it neatly, brought my glass to the sink, and washed my hands."  She smirked. "I get a gold star now. Or a cookie. Oh, now I forgot which one, so I have to go write 'I will not forget' 100 times!"

"And watch that handwriting!" Kid added.

Renee had been tapping her pen on the table, leaving little blue dots all over its surface. "Uh-huh. Mm-hmm. Keep joking. You and Richie can take it on the road.  And once you get enough tomatoes thrown at you, we can have a salad."

"That's what I need," Richie began thinking out loud, "a routine!" Before anyone could react, he went and grabbed Stacy by the arm.  Pulling her to the center of the room, he began dancing back and forth to the vaudeville music in his head. "Hey, Stacy - Knock, knock!" He gestured to her to continue.

"Richie, nobody wants to hear another joke." Stacy began saying, but it went in one ear and out the other.

"C'mon, you're spoiling the act!" he muttered.  Then he said loudly, "What's that? Did you say 'Who's there'?"

"Sure, why not?" sighed Stacy.

"A little old lady!"

With an even bigger sigh, Stacy answered, "A little old lady who?"

"Well, hey! I didn't know you could yodel!" 

They all stared at him blankly, so Richie quickly ran up to the drum set and played a rim shot. They still didn't laugh.  Now it was Richie's turn to sigh. "I'll do my homework." he said softly.

The joke act, Richie later decided, was too much to start with. Maybe he would be better off observing what they found funny and cool, and try to jump in. It shouldn't be that hard; they were always playing around. 

Today, for example, they were having a great time reenacting the school play instead of doing their homework - complete with criticisms. "I wish I had been in that play now. Who told that girl she could act?" Stacy joked. "Reading off a cue card was more like it!"

"How can anyone not know that movie?" Renee shook her head. Her glasses slipped down her nose, and she pushed them back up. "You could see people mouthing the words to her.  It was so sad."

"She took so long to react, I thought she was asleep." added Ryan. 

"But it was funny." said Connie. "I was rooting for the witch!" She and Stacy began cavorting around dramatically, staring off into the distance as they spoke.

"OH, HELP!  Auntie Em! I can't remember my line!" cried Stacy.  Everyone laughed.

"Ha ha," Connie replied, "I'm the Wicked Witch, and I cast a stupid spell to make you forget your lines!"  She found a big novelty pencil and waved it around. 

Richie saw his chance. "Don't forget to make her dance like a bear." he told Connie. To his delight, the kids laughed at that, too!

"Yeah, that was so bad." Kid chuckled. "She looked like she put her dress on with the hanger still in it." He and the younger kids began dancing stiffly, their arms stuck in odd positions.

Ryan and Renee leapt up from the table as Stacy pranced by, followed by Connie and the Pencil of Doom. "Careful!" Renee warned, but to no avail.

"And now my evil monkey will steal all of your scenes!" cackled Connie.

"Oh, if only someone in this cast had a brain!" Stacy wailed.

Richie, still dancing squarely, assumed the role of monkey and chased after Stacy gleefully. He didn't even mind the unintended slight; he was so pleased to be included. "Eeee! Eeee! Bad actress! Bad actress!" he called out.

No one seemed to notice Renee. "You guys, you're gonna get hurt. You guys..ugh."  She took her glasses off and tossed them onto the table so she could go scold freely.

Stacy clasped her heart so fiercely it must have hurt and pretended to swoon. "I am in danger - of being upstaged by a bit part!"

The Kid had been watching and couldn't let an opportunity to show off go by. "Have no fear! I'm the great and powerful Oz, and I have a copy of the script!" He held up his homework he'd rather not be doing. "I'll just read it to you and hope no one notices!" Everyone immediately began reaching for the "script".

Ryan was amused. "Who said adaptations had to be boring?" he chuckled.

"You're not helping." Renee said to him.

"C'mon, they're bored. They've been sitting in class all day. It's not hurting anything. At least the knock-knock jokes have stopped."

"Ugh, don't remind me!"

But as the chase scene made its way across the room, Richie made a dive for the faux script and overshot by at least two feet.  He hit the end of the table, upending it and sending books flying in all directions.  Everyone came running.

"I'm okay!" said Richie.  He struggled to pull himself up, and...crunch! A few people gasped, and then the whole P*lace fell silent.

"Tell me those were not my $90 glasses with the custom fitted frames!" Renee demanded.

Terrified, Richie lifted up his heel...and gulped."Uh, I'd like to," he chuckled nervously, "but that would be lying.  And lying is wrong!" he threw in.  There! That sounds like something she'd go for.  Maybe I won't be clobbered.  Still off-balance, he reached out a hand to the other Kids.

Renee made some violent snarling noise, took Richie's outstretched hand, and flung him clear of the table so forcefully he nearly fell over again. "It is always you!  Every time something stupid happens, there you are, right in the thick of it!  I don't why they gave me glasses - you're the one who's a klutz!"

"I didn"t mean to." Richie said quietly. 

"No, of course not!  You never mean to!  But that isn't going to fix things, is it?" Renee bent down and gingerly picked up her mangled glasses. "My head hurts just looking at these." she complained.

"What happened to your other pair?" Stacy asked her sister.

"These were my other pair!"  Renee moaned. "I can barely make out the floor," she said as she squinted at the mess, "so I'm probably gonna - OW! - cut myself!" Her distant vision was sharp enough to shoot daggers at Richie.

"We should clean this up before Riley finds out." Ryan decided. The rest of the kids got down on the floor and carefully began picking through papers.

Richie went to help, but Renee turned and snapped, "Haven't you done enough?"

"It's all right, Rich." Ryan quickly added. "Why don't you go get a dish towel or something we can scoop the glass up into?"

As Richie walked away, he heard Renee mutter, "I wish he had never joined this band sometimes."

A very stiff rehearsal number followed.  No one spoke of what had just happened, and they tactfully ignored Renee accidentally knocking her mic stand off the stage every few minutes.  Even Riley picked it up and handed it to her every time without saying a word.

Richie paid very close attention to every single cue, making sure not to give anyone a reason to yell at him. He gave what was probably his best performance, but he didn't even care. He cringed every time the mic stand clattered to the floor, and it was hard not to notice Renee using the side steps to leave the stage, hugging the wall and taking one step at a time. From a safe distance, he watched as Stacy dialed their home phone number so Renee could report her broken glasses.  It made his stomach churn.

"She's milking it." a voice behind him said.

Richie turned around. "Kid," he said, "I'm sorry I'm a pain in the neck."

"Where'd you get that idea?"

"Where do you think?"

Displeased by the other end of her conversation, Renee attempted to slam the phone down, but couldn't get the receiver on the hook.

"Her neck's too stiff, anyway." said The Kid. "We all make mistakes, Richie. You just make yours in front of the wrong people."

"My friends?"

Kid sighed. "Look, if you want everybody to forget about it, just let things get back to normal." To demonstrate, he leapt off the stage and grandly called out, "So, who's going to buy me a malted?" Everyone laughed and instantly relaxed.

Richie remained on stage gazing longingly at people appreciating and interacting with one another.  Again, it was like a faraway island that he could view but never manage to swim to.  The emotional storm building up inside him threatened to twist him into a pretzel. He wasn't even sure what "normal" was anymore, but anything had to be better than being a pariah.  Just as The Kid had done, he leapt off the stage - and landed unceremoniously on his rear end.  Ouch!  It looked easy when Kid did it.

A spirited discussion about ice cream flavors was underway at Kids Inc's table. "No, there isn't enough alcoholic content in Rum Raisin to make it adults only." Ryan was explaining. "Besides, if you put too much rum in the ice cream, it wouldn't freeze.  You'd need an industrial freezer."

Eyebrows collectively rose. "Someone wrote a book about alcohol in ice cream?" said Stacy. 

"Okay, where are you getting your books?  Because I'm almost positive they wouldn't have something like that in the school library." Renee added.

"Well, I am not trying it." said Kid. "I don't like things hanging out in my ice cream, anyway."

"Me, either!" Richie piped up. "Especially almonds - they get stuck in my throat."

"Who cares." muttered Renee under her breath. 

Sudden heat came over Richie's face.  Unable to control himself, he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. "I know a joke about ice cream!"

The other Kids began shaking their heads in disdain. "Tell me I did not just hear what I thought I heard!" said Renee. "Please tell me that no one can be that stupid!"

Kid quickly moved to assert what little influence he had over his hapless friend. "That's great, Richie, but you think it could wait until later?" he chuckled nervously. "I've always found that jokes go over much better on a full stomach."

But Hurricane Richie had already reached land. "Knock, knock!"

"Oh, SHUT UP, Richie!" Renee groaned. 

Richie's eyes narrowed. All the little barbs Renee had slung at him echoed in his head.  He opened his mouth, and the storm rose up and became a voice that even he didn't know he had. "Why don't YOU SHUT UP?"

Everyone froze. Enraged, he knocked all their belongings off the table. "You're ALWAYS yelling at me!  I wish I'd never joined this band, either!  Everyone hates me because of you!"  The words just kept on coming. "You know what's a joke? YOU!  You think you're so great that everyone has to do whatever you say.  You think I can't do anything right!  WELL, YOU'RE WRONG!"

Renee could only stare helplessly as Richie continued to fume at her until he ran out of energy.  When he stormed out of The P*lace, she finally let herself breathe.

Riley was the first to break the silence. "What was that all about?"

"That," said Ryan, entering Lecture Mode, "is what happens when someone gets pushed to the breaking point.  I figured it was going to happen sooner or later."

Renee had found her voice. "Couldn't you have warned me?" she said shakily.

"Would it have gotten you to lay off Richie at all? Renee, I don't think you realize how hard you are on him." 

"He takes everything you say to heart." The Kid added. "I don't know why, but...he actually listens to you."

"Do you...do you think he's right?" A tear fell down Renee's cheek.

"You do get annoyed with him more than anyone else does." said Stacy.

Renee was taken aback at this perceived betrayal.  "You try being raffled off for a measly 75 cents a ticket and see how it makes you feel!" she snapped, glaring.  "I don't know why he didn't pick you, anyway. It's like he lives to annoy me."

"That's all in your head." Ryan said to her.

"Are my shattered glasses in my head, Ryan? Does the fact that I can barely make out your face only exist in my imagination?"

"Psychosomatic."

"EXCUSE ME?"

"It means you've convinced yourself that you can't see without your glasses, so you can't see without your glasses."

The Kid found this amusing. "You even boss yourself around!"

"But no one else takes it personally." Renee pointed out.

"We're used to it." said Stacy.

She got another glare. "You'd better be."

"Look, I don't know why Richie looks for your approval more than anyone else's." said Ryan. "All I'm saying is you have a tendency to be a little condescending."

"I'm condescending?" Renee echoed. "Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is!" Quietly, she added, "At least I don't go around calling people psycho."

But Ryan's words stayed with Renee, and by the end of the day, they helped her make up her mind. She found herself on Richie's doorstep and in his shoes as she worried what he would say.

Richie himself answered the door and scowled when he saw her. "What do you want?"

"Knock, knock." Renee said nervously.

"Who's there?"

"Someone who tends to speak before she thinks and really isn't all that great at being humble - but not because she's condescending or psycho-whatever...except maybe she is a little, but she doesn't mean to be."

"Someone who tends to speak before she thinks and really isn't all that great at being humble but not because she's condescending or psycho-whatever except maybe she is a little but she doesn't mean to be who?"

"Please don't make me say that again."

"Was that supposed to be funny?" asked Richie.

"No, it was supposed to be an apology." Renee replied. She sighed. "I didn't mean it when I said I wished you never joined the band. I thought you'd already left the room."

"Why'd you say it then?"

"Well, I was angry at you. You've never said anything you didn't really mean?"

"Yeah, I have. Like all that stuff I said to you."

"No, I think you might have meant some of that."

Richie shifted uncomfortably. "But it's not going to fix your glasses, is it?"

"You really are the only one that listens to me." chucked Renee. "Why do you listen to me?" she asked him suddenly.

Richie shrugged. "'Cause you're my friend." he said simply. Renee didn't quite know what to say after that. He continued. "I'm sorry I said that you made everyone hate me."

"No one hates you, Richie." said Renee. "In fact, I...think they're kind of jealous."

"Why?"

Renee smiled. "You're the first one that's clobbered back!" They shared a laugh. "Anyway, I was the one who was careless with my glasses, so I have to pay for half of them."

"Oh! That reminds me!" said Richie. "I'll be right back!" He ran into the house and came back a few minutes later with a small, oblong box.

"I made this for you in wood shop." he explained, handing it to Renee. "I was gonna wait until Christmas, but...it's a glasses case."

Again, Renee was at a loss for words. "Richie..."

It was beautiful; smooth and stained in two different wood tones with a pattern carved into the lid.  It must have taken him the majority of the school year to complete. Overcome by emotion, the first thing Renee thought to do was nearly suffocate Richie and kiss him on the cheek.

"UGH! What'd you do that for?" cried Richie. "I said I was sorry!"

"Tsk!" went Renee, hands on hips. Now this was something he was familiar with.  She went to say something, stopped, then smirked. "Knock, knock!"

Richie looked at her quizzically. "Who's...there?" he asked.

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock, knock!"

"Wait...who's there?"

"Banana." giggled Renee.

"Banana who?"

"Banana!"

"Banana WHO?"

"Knock, knock!"

"Aah! WHO'S THERE?"

Renee waited until Richie was about to explode before she stopped laughing and said, "Ahem...orange."

"Oh...orange who?"

"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" She took off down the steps.

Richie groaned. "You call that a joke?"

"Got a better one?" Renee challenged.

"As a matter of fact," said Richie, joining her on the sidewalk, "I do." He thought for a moment. "Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"Radio."

"Radio who?"

"Radio not, here I come!"

They continued all the way back to The P*lace.

It had been a few days since Richie had shocked everyone twice - first by going off on Renee, and then by walking into The P*lace with her later that day.  He was slowly beginning to realize that he had a place, here with his friends, and it would be here whenever he needed it, regardless of what he did.

Once again, everyone was playing. "I'm glad you stepped in as Dorothy again." Connie said to Stacy.

"Yeah, I just had to. I couldn't stand watching that girl do more damage to Oz than the twister." joked Stacy.

"She does make a good winged monkey, though." said Richie.  They laughed, and he smiled.

"Except that she kept sneaking in to all of my scenes. I had to keep blocking her. The play ended up more like a Monty Python movie."

When Renee entered The P*lace, everyone was once again gallivanting around, competing for the attention of an invisible audience. Overcome by poisoned poppies and the need to chew the scenery, Stacy collapsed onto a table. She tipped her head back and came face to face with her scowling sister.

"Uh oh." she said. "Um...hi."

Tapping her foot impatiently, Renee said nothing...then she smiled slyly. "Who killed my sister?" she cackled playfully.

Relieved, everyone cracked up laughing. Renee grabbed Connie and began tickling her. "Who killed my sister? Was it you?"

Out of habit, Connie shouted, "Richie did it! Richie did it...oops!"

"Oh." Renee said in her normal voice. "Well..." She met Richie's eye. "That's okay. She probably deserved it."

"Hey! Not really dead here!" Stacy called from the tabletop. This kept everyone in stitches for the next half hour.

And life was good.

The End