Mates

Jordan squints and rubs his eyes as the light between the blinds shine on them. He sighs and grunts as he sits up, looking over to his guitar at the far side of the room which is among a pile in front of his closet. It's gotten more dusty.

"I should tidy up a bit sometime soon." He says as he saunters over to his window to draw the curtains when something catches his eye. He squints pulling the blinds up,

"Did I order something?"

There's a large box from Amazon sat under his mailbox. The neighborhood is pretty quaint so he wasn't annoyed at this but he looks down at his phone and clicks his teeth,

"The least you could do is send me an SMS."

Jordan heads downstairs and makes for the front door a little self conscious about his boxer briefs and tee attire but he tells himself it's early in the morning and that he's only going to his mailbox.

After looking over the box and confirming it was made out to him he kneels to lift it confident in his strength, after all he's a young guy who regularly visits the gym, what's one box? Jordan thinks and he immediately receives an answer when the box doesn't budge as he heaves.

"What the hecks inside this thing? Rocks?" Jordan says pushing against the box to stand himself up. Not willing to quit he attempts a few more times growing red in the face and only stops when he hears a tearing sound from down below.

"Shit!" He pulls his tee down over his briefs and looks around worried but to his relief no one was out, yards were empty and curtains remained drawn as far as he can see. Jordan dashes back inside and emerges a few minutes later with a hand truck and long johns. "Enough games!"

After Jordan successfully jerks the flat side of the truck under his box he carts the package into his home and after getting past the front door he decides to make a left towards the kitchen where he can find a knife to cut the box open once and for all. As Jordan unloads the box on the kitchen floor it's backside, the last bit off the hand truck, lands from a short fall that sets the box but with a sound Jordan finds familiar.

"Was that a Cymbal?"

Jordan works away at the box with his knife and before long an entire drum set lays disassembled across his kitchen.

"Who sent me this? It's vintage but I don't play the drums... I never did..."

Jordan looks at the now gutted box besides him and uses an arm to dig inside.

"...But I knew someone who did."

He feels something taut in the shape of a small rectangle and pulls his arm back.

"I knew there'd be one."

Jordan examines the notecard and it read:

How are you man? I haven't seen you in ages, It's been a bit but do you remember our little band and how we used to tour our old neighborhood during summer break? It was nuts we were like local kid celebrities there, it's a shame our dream to make it big never came to pass but I didn't write to you to cry about any of that. I got accepted into Yale and I thought I'd take the time to let you know. I sent you a little something to commemorate those times, maybe you'll do the same? No pressure though.

Your Amazing Bandmate, Henry.

Jordan puts the notecard down and smirks,

"Henry huh, yeah I remember those crazy days but I can't believe you went through all this trouble." Jordan looks up at the sprawling drum set all over his kitchen floor near him, "He kept it in good condition after all these years huh." Jordan sighs, "Fine, I'll return the favor dammit." He turns to a black cylinder on a counter a drum set and a half away.

"Hey Alexa get me a notecard... and a duster... and a vacuum…and some briefs" Jordan grabs the empty box and looks over the mailing stamp.

   “I don't recognize that address-damn, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to just send a package there.” He pulls out his phone scrolling through his contacts, “and I don’t know Henry's number or whatever number his mom had me memorize…” Jordan pauses. “…Nah I only got this phone last year and I don't remember that number because it's been so long but…” He scrolls to his mother, “I mean we were close it's not a stretch to imagine our mothers were too? At least I don't think it should be.” Jordan sighs, “Fine it doesn’t hurt to try.” The phone dials. “Let's just get this over with!” And Jordan’s mom picks up.

   “Jordan is that you? I've been waiting for you to call me! You didn't call me in a while.”

   “Oh wow really? Where did the time go?” Jordan says with an awkward chuckle.

   “I don't know, you tell me! I've been so worried and what did you mean ‘Let’s get this over with!’ you don't mean with me do you?”

   “You're as lively as ever I really missed that and you're right I should call you more often sorry."

He doesn't see it but his mom nods in approval, his diversion was a success. “So what's the occasion Jordan?”

Jordan sighs, “Well..” After explaining his entire morning and as he was telling his mother about the gift he wanted to send back she interjects, “So you want to know if I have his contact info then?” She begins to rummage in a nearby cabinet.

“Yeah…” despite his request Jordan felt doubtful her rifling would produce anything of substance, after all its been nearly a decade since they've seen each other and his mother didn't have a smartphone so it honestly seem-

   “Got it! Right where I left it.”

   “Really? After all these years?”

   “Yeah, what? You kids don't write things down anymore?”

Jordan stammers, “Well this is great, I’ll call him right now.” He waits expecting to hear a number.

   “You'll do that by calling his mom?”

Jordan is audibly confused but his mom continues, “Me and Sharon were best friends, why do you think you and Henry got along so well? Hold on I'll call you right  back after I get the number and call me more often will you?” She hangs up before Jordan can utter a word. He sighs putting his phone aside knowing his mom will spend the better part of the day chatting with Sharon and turns towards the drum set. Smiling to himself about the flood of memories they gave him.

   “Well for now I guess the least I could do is assemble it and make sure to keep it dusted.”