Why Aren't You Smiling? Read Online Free PDF

I suffered any memory loss? I tried to remember something I might have forgotten. But if I remembered it, then it wouldn’t be forgotten. The task was hopeless! It occurred to me that now I hadn’t spoken or moved for a suspiciously long time. What was Rick thinking? I didn’t have to wonder long because he stood up and announced, “We need music!”
    â€œYeah, totally,” I agreed, glad for something to say.
    Rick began flipping through a stack of albums by a stereo in the corner. “The cat who lives here has all the best tunes: Argent… Emerson, Lake and Palmer… Loggins and Messina, Bread, Three Dog Night…” He turned back to face me. “What kind of music do you like, Little Lenny?”
    I wanted to like something Rick liked, but had no idea what that was. “Those are good bands,” I all but squeaked. Was ‘bands’ the right word? “I mean, groups…” Since when had inter-human communication become so difficult? “The ones you said.” I stared at my hands, which now looked alien and the wrong distance from my head. “I like all kinds of music,” I added, echoing the sentiments often expressed by my mother (of all people!) and hopefully handing the whole music dilemma back to Rick. Then I remembered that there was a new band I particularly liked. “Queen!” I shouted, my voice sounding too loud. It was my favorite band, but I had forgotten.
    Rick scowled. “Don’t see any Queen. How about Led Zep?”
    â€œSure.” Suddenly I felt compelled to stand. Standing took only a small fraction of the time it normally did and I became dizzy. I must have looked like something out of a silent movie, jerky and at the wrong speed.
    â€œLed Zep it is!” Rick pulled the album out of its sleeve and put it on the stereo with exaggerated care. He was clearly one of those people who never scratched a record.
    How long had I been standing? It seemed like forever. And what exactly were people supposed to do with their arms while they stood? Mine were hanging straight down but that seemed wrong. I tried them akimbo but that seemed worse. I folded them but thought I might look angry and let them fall again. Wrong. If I sat down would that be weird – to have just stood up and sat down again for no reason? Rick, thankfully, seemed oblivious to my absurdity.
    â€œIs Beth your girlfriend?” The words came out unexpectedly.
    â€œI belong to Christ,” Rick replied with an angelic smile. He returned to the couch and lit up again.
    Curiosity made me uncharacteristically bold. “What does that mean?”
    Rick exhaled. “You ask a lot of questions, Little Lenny.” He held out the joint. “Want some more?” I shook my head no, having developed a sudden, deep aversion to marijuana. Rick smiled and closed his eyes as if he were going to sleep. “This is some good shit.”
    â€œDo you think Jesus got high?” I wondered.
    Rick’s eyes opened. “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. We know he drank wine, why not pot? Though they probably called it something different in those days.”
    â€œWow.”
    Rick sat up straight. “Bible time!” He looked happy about it.
    â€œOK,” I said, fearing the worst.
    Rick walked over to one of the knapsacks and took out a black leather-bound Bible and set it on the coffee table. He sat down cross-legged on the floor then opened it. “We’ll do bibliomancy,” he said, fanning the pages back and forth. “Close your eyes and stick your finger on something.” I did as he asked. “OK, open your eyes and read what your finger’s pointing to.”
    â€œFrom there Elisha went up to Bethel. As he was walking along the road, some youths came out of the town and jeered at him. ‘Go on up, you baldhead!’ they said. He turned around, looked at them and called down a curse on them in the name of the Lord.