Bitter Farewell (4 page)

“I see you brought guitars, right?” the woman asked.

Johnnie smiled and nodded.

“Are we going to see a Chasing Cross show perhaps?”

“Listen,” Danny said. “Johnnie and I have to take care of some personal business here. I’m sure you know that’s why we’re here. We have a lot to take care of and not much time.”

“Where will you be staying?” the woman asked, her eyes excited for the answer.

“A private hotel,” Danny said. “As I said, Johnnie and I have a lot to take care of...”

“Chasing Cross rocks!” someone yelled and whistled from the crowd.

The crowd cheered and began a
Chasing Cross
chant.

The woman turned and hurried away to capture the scene.

“I’m done here,” Danny said, feeling anger burning in his gut. He picked up his guitars and started to walk.

A black van waited just a few steps away. They needed a vehicle big enough to transport the band and both Danny and Johnnie agreed the last thing they needed to do was be driven around in a limousine. The driver of the van opened the back and the side door.

“Can I take that for you?” he asked when Danny was close enough.

“No, we’re good,” Danny said. “Thanks though.”

This wasn’t a world tour. This wasn’t a press release. This wasn’t the launch of a new album. This wasn’t an award show. There was no reason, what so ever, for people to care and be so excited for the band to be around. Danny refused to let anyone treat him special.

Especially in Bakersville.

He was not special in Bakersville.

In fact, he felt evil in Bakersville.

Rick, Chris, and Davey climbed into the van first. Johnnie joined Danny at the back and rubbed his shoulder.

“Overwhelming, huh?”

“Something like that,” Danny said.

“I get it. Remember we used to come here, right to that gate behind us, and wait for planes to land?”

Danny smiled. “I think we only saw two or three, right?”

“Same plane too. That lawyer owned one... the one from up in Marsh County.”

Danny looked over his shoulder. For a quick second, he saw himself standing next to Johnnie at the chain link fence. Their small fingers wrapped tight around the fence, both looking up, scanning the sky, wishing and hoping a plane would land. Maybe Johnnie just wanted to see an airplane, but when Danny was a kid, he hoped to get on one of those airplanes - with his guitar, of course - and fly away.

Danny looked at the private jet sitting not so far away and realized that that dream had come true.

He shook his head and shivered.

It was suddenly overwhelming.

“Come on,” Johnnie said. “Let’s go get settled.”

Johnnie walked away and Danny shut the back door to the van. He took a step back and turned. The woman reporter was there, recorder in hand, a smile on her face. Next to her was a man with a camera, snapping pictures.

“One more question,” she asked.

“Okay. No more pictures right now, please.”

The cameraman lowered his camera and put his hand out. “I’m a fan, man. Such a fan.”

Danny didn’t recognize the man right away. He was younger than Danny.

“Thank you,” Danny said. “We appreciate it.”

“What would you...,” the woman said and then paused. “What would you say to your father, if you had the chance for one last conversation...?”

What a loaded question.

Danny looked to his left, then right, expecting Johnnie to be there to handle such a question. It was the kind of question he could think about for hours maybe and still not have the right answer.

“Wow, that’s a good question,” Danny said.

He swallowed and tried to keep his composure. This was the part of the career that he hated. He felt naked without his guitar and he definitely felt exposed with such a personal matter being discussed. After seeing what Davey had gone through with some wild fan who claimed he fathered her baby, her worried something like that would happen again.

“So?” the woman asked.

Danny licked his lips and took a deep breath. He nodded as an answer came to him. An answer with meaning, an answer that would satisfy the woman standing with the tape recorder running, and an answer that Danny would have said in real life, if given the chance to speak to his father again.

“Danny, what would you say to him? One last thing...”

“Goodbye,” Danny whispered. “Goodbye.”

He side stepped and hurried to the side of the van and jumped in. He pulled the door shut and cursed under his breath.

“He hates interviews,” Rick whispered to Chris.

“I hate this,” Danny said as the van started to drive.

“Everyone relax,” Johnnie said. “It’s going to be a busy couple days. We need to be low key and stay out of trouble. We need to stay put in the house too, okay? That’s why we have guitars. And I’m sure you all remember our father had a well stocked liquor cabinet.”

“Here, here,” Rick cheered.

“You think that’s still full?” Danny asked.

“Of course it is,” Johnnie said. “He cared about those bottle more than anything else in the world.”

Danny couldn’t argue that.

For the longest time he wondered how someone could just walk away from love and family for something else. But as Danny drove through the streets of Bakersville, finding the smallest landmarks that held the biggest memories, he began to realize that perhaps he wasn’t all that different from his father...

**

Liv stood on the porch, leaning against the pillar, looking down the stone steps to the stone walkway to the stone driveway. The front yard was as big as most peoples backyards. It had a few small trees in the middle, perfect trees to decorate with Christmas lights. The road was paved and there were a few neighbors here and there, but it was certainly not as busy as the houses directly downtown, which was a short one mile away.

Birds chirped and the sunlight weaved in and out of the leaves and branches. A soft breeze rustled the leaves. The smell of fresh air and lilacs hit Liv’s nose and she took a deep breath. It was these quiet moments she needed the most. The ones that showed her the beauty of the world. She rubbed her cheek and did her best not to cry. She felt her soft skin and thought about her mother. She had inherited her mother’s eyes, hair, and looks. Those who looked at a picture of Liv’s mother were always shocked by how much Liv resembled her mother. Liv enjoyed it because she remembered her mother’s blue eyes and smile.

She just wished her father could remember it too.

Liv waited for Lorraine to come and help out today. Lorraine was a retired nurse who worked with Alzheimer's patients. She knew exactly what to do and how to do it. She also found a way to sneak in chores around the house that drove Liv nuts. She told Lorraine so many times there’s no need to clean the bathrooms, wash Dad’s clothes, or load or unload the dishwasher. But Lorraine always felt guilty for taking money. Little did she know, Liv had put herself in a good position through a few real estate deals a while back. In fact, Liv had her own dreams of having a little empire which she had been building fiercely up until she needed to take care of her father.

The knocker on the front door bounced and the screen door squeaked.

Liv closed her eyes and listened as her father shuffled out of the house. Step by small step, a cough, and a few moans. She let him walk his way next to her at the end of the porch.

“Beautiful day, huh?” he asked.

He was back to Charlie, to Dad. To normal. But that, of course, could end in the matter of a second.

“Yeah, it is,” Liv said.

“You know, your mother and I came here a few times, to have dinner with Mrs. Hartley and her husband, Dickie.”

“You’ve been here?” Liv asked.

“Oh, yeah. Plenty of times. Dickie was a good man. Before he lost a couple fingers in his accident. Then he drank himself to death. And poor Bev, she never recovered from his death. She prayed to die, you know?”

Liv nodded. She remembered meeting Mrs. Hartley when she had bought the house and land from the woman and her family. She had been so frail and so broken. Her family forced her to move out of the house and six months later, she joined her husband in passing.

“What did... what did you and Mom eat when you were here?”

Liv swallowed. She sometimes felt guilty asking specific questions, but it fascinated her to see what her father could and couldn’t remember.

“Oh, Dickie made burgers. All the time. Always burgers. We only came over in the summer. I mean, in the winters, we stayed inside a lot. Christ, we had a few winters where you couldn’t leave your house, the snow was that high.”

“Burgers,” Liv said. “What did Mom wear?”

Charlie smiled and his eyes flickered. “She had a summer dress... it had red and white checkers on it...” Liv watched her father draw squares with a crooked middle finger in the air. “...I brought pictures of you and your siblings, one time. I forgot them in the car, right? So your mother said she’d get them. I stood in the door and watched her run to the car to get them. And when she started running back, a little wind came through” - Charlie made circles with his middle finger now - “and it sort of kicked her dress up. Not in a bad way or anything. But I’ll never forget it. I can still see it... right there... that red and white checkered dress dancing around your mother as she ran towards me. Her hair bouncing, the smile on her face. I opened the door and she leapt into my arms like we hadn’t seen each other in years. It was just one of those moments I guess...”

Liv turned her head and closed her eyes tight. The emotion overcame her and she discretely wiped the tears from her eyes.

This was the version of her father she loved the most. The one where he wanted to talk about Liv’s mother. Liv knew that as time moved on, even by the second, her father’s memory was disappearing more and more. The more she could learn to keep in her heart, the better.

And how beautiful of a gift was it that Liv ended up buying this house? She had no idea her mother and father came to the house, let alone the picturesque scene her father just painted.

Liv looked at her father again and heard the crunching sound of tires on rocks.

Lorraine was here.

“Lorraine is going to hang out with you today,” Liv said. “I have to take care of some stuff. You two will be fine. She’s bringing you potato salad, homemade. You love her potato salad, right?”

Charlie blinked but didn’t respond. Liv watched as his eyes followed the green car  up the driveway. Lorraine parked next to Liv’s car. She climbed from the car and smiled at Liv before ducking down to grab some stuff on the passenger seat.

“I’ll be...,” Charlie whispered.

He took a step down and stopped.

“Dad, you can’t go down the steps alone,” Liv said.

Not the stone steps.

No way.

One slip and fall and Liv knew her father would break something for sure.

Lorraine walked around the back of the car, a purse and a bag on her right arm, a couple containers of food balanced in her left hand. She always smiled and she had the kindest eyes Liv ever saw on a person. Just seeing Lorraine made Liv feel better. Just to know there was help and someone who understood it.

“Olivia, don’t be rude,” her father snapped at her.

“Dad...”

“Don’t talk back to me, go out there and help your mother with the groceries.”

Liv felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. “Dad... that’s...”

“Look at how beautiful she is,” Charlie cried out.

Liv stepped back and put her hands to her mouth. She hated herself for asking about her mother. Now her father was confused and thought Lorraine was her mother.

Lorraine nodded at Liv, understanding the situation without hesitating.

Lorraine mouthed to Liv,
go inside!,
and Liv turned to rush inside.

“Hey Charlie,” Liv heard Lorraine said.

“Oh, look at you,” Charlie said back.

That was all Liv heard.

She rushed to the kitchen and let out a cry. She felt sick to her stomach for a few seconds. All she wanted was to know about her mother, not to cause this. It wasn’t like walking on eggshells anymore with her father... it was like walking on broken glass.

Through her blurry eyes, Liv looked out the window to the open backyard. It was all hers. Her dream house. Her dream yard. Her dream everything... except the hell inside her.

A breeze came again, the air touching Liv’s face through the open window in the kitchen. She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to contain everything. Somewhere in her mind she heard the sound of dirt bikes growling, taking her to a different time but not a different place.

She smiled, understanding why her father liked to get lost in the past so much.

It was good then.

So good...