“What?” I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not.” His eyes were trained on my face, full of sincere effulgence. “You were the only person besides my mom who believed in me. From day one.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin, bit the inside of his cheek. “I was a stupid kid with no father, no friends, and a bad haircut, but for some reason you thought I was cool, and that made all the difference.”

“You were cool. You didn’t need me for that.”

“Actually, I did.” Cal’s brow rose and I noticed three sharp wrinkles in his forehead, saw the small scar under his eye from where I’d caught him with the fishing hook. “I don’t think you ever realized how alone I was back then. You came along and made me part of your family, dysfunctional as it was. And after that I didn’t have to give a fuck about anyone else, because I knew you had my back. That was a fucking gift.” He leaned forward and set his elbows on his knees. “Harp, I wouldn’t be playing here tonight if I hadn’t run into you on the trail that day. I know that for a fact. And I guess I just want to say thank you. I’ve missed having you in my life. And I’m really glad you’re here.”

Cal stood up quickly, grabbed his wallet from his duffle bag. “One more thing and then I’ll shut up.” He slipped a piece of paper out from the billfold and handed it to me. “It’s obviously not the original. I made a copy for you.”

The paper had been folded in half twice, but as soon as I had it partway opened I knew what it was. I recognized Cal’s handwriting and could see my fourteen-year-old-kid signature alongside his at the bottom.

I felt myself getting choked up. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

It was the contract he’d written up the day we met.

To who it may concern. This agreement herebye states that Cal Callahan and Joseph Harper are band mates and best friends for life. Our band will be called ________ (to be determine). We will be the bosses of it and no body will ever tell us what to do or what kind of music to make. We promise to practice every day. We promise the band will always come first. Girls second. We promise never to do anything to screw up the band or our friendship. As soon as we sign this nothing will break this bond NOTHING. Forever in truth and music.

x Joseph Robert Harper x Christopher A Callahan

I sat on that couch in the Greek Theater, holding the contract, looking up at Cal and thinking, I can’t do it. I can’t.

TWENTY-TWO.

When I think about the Whitefish Community Library, the first thing that comes to mind is the color green. The tables are green, the chairs are green, the air ducts in the ceiling are green. And more often than not, Patty the librarian’s pants were green too.