The Rock Season (3 page)

The goddess turned to face me and started to say something, but then the lights came up as the band took the stage and it was impossible to hear anything. I gave her one last glance before climbing back up the stairs to my post. My heart was pounding when I got there. When I thought to myself earlier this week that I needed something to happen, it wasn’t to have a stunning redhead’s painfully beautiful face emblazoned on my brain by the lights from the stage. But that’s exactly what happened. It was one of those experiences you knew would haunt you, that seven days from now, seven months from now, seven years or more from now you would think back to this moment and know that you’d seen perfection. It sounds stupid, but I was kind of grateful, maybe like someone who’d seen the Taj Mahal or the Grand Canyon would think, “I am better for having seen this place.” For me, I was better for having seen her face. I was fucking mental, but I was grateful.

Priest put on a helluva a show like usual. The idea that this was their farewell tour was depressing, but at least they were going out on top, still filling large venues like this. I’d seen them a couple times before and they never ceased to amaze. I cheered like a kid every time Halford rode that damn hog out on stage. Nothing more metal than that!

After the encore, I was supposed to move to the exit of the seating area, but I was worried about the goddess. I prayed she didn’t get bumped around or manhandled on her way up the steps. I lingered until I saw her. The two guys that were sitting next to her friend were walking up with them and I noticed one of them move to the goddess’ side when some drunk guys spilled onto the walkway ahead of them. The guy moved in front of her but never touched her. Maybe he was just being chivalrous. Maybe I was an idiot for even trying to assess the situation. But maybe her smile when they reached the top of the steps was genuinely meant for me. I froze where I stood, feeling the sudden urge to bow, and managed to give her a half smile before she was gone. Gone.

Stevie

A week after the Priest show, I could still see those dark eyes of my Savior’s when I went to sleep at night. Correction, I could see those dark eyes while I tossed and turned and maybe got two hours of sleep between trips to the toilet and trying desperately to get my body to relax. The show, the move, and work took a lot out of me. By the end of the week my doctor was concerned about my blood pressure and fatigue.

“Stevie, I think you need to take it easy. Maybe you should think about taking early disability. I know things have been extra stressful.”

I’d told her about my eviction and she had to really work to make her thoughts about Ben sound professional. I assured her I’d rather he not be around than to be as cold and unfeeling as he was. “No child should experience growing up without the love of a parent,” I said and she agreed.

“I still hate it that he just washed his hands of the situation. Let’s just hope he gets a vasectomy soon...And they slip.” We both laughed and she patted my leg. “Stevie, you are incredibly brave. Just don’t push yourself. This baby needs a little more time and rest and so do you.”

I thanked her and made an appointment to come back in two weeks and then weekly until I delivered.

I’d already taken my birthing classes with Maryland as my coach. Those nights were way more fun than they were meant to be. When it was time to practice breathing, she started drumming on her leg and singing an appropriate tune. “Painkiller” by Judas Priest was the most classic, and she made me breathe in time. We laughed, the alien got the hiccups, and I almost peed my maternity pants!

My students were trying very hard to behave. They tried to get me to sit down more, offered to help pass things out, etc. I even had some kids in my last period offer to carry my bag out to the car for me. Yes, it takes this much to make teenagers think of someone other than themselves.

I had plenty of time to blog since all I really felt like doing was sitting around. I was tempted to write about my Savior, maybe to say thanks, but then the alien kicked me and I sensed she/he was right about this maybe not being the right time. Who knew? If he worked security at Shoreline, I just might see him again sometime.

Living with Maryland was a nice change of pace. The girls loved me to death, and were constantly giving me hugs and foot rubs! They asked a bazillion questions about the alien. I had Serena convinced that she/he was really going to have green skin. It’s a good thing she knew nothing about how babies were made yet. Otherwise, she might have really wondered about the alien’s father.

Speaking of the alien’s father, I hadn’t heard a word from him, but his attorney contacted me with account information and said that I was to contact him directly if I had any questions. Ben didn’t want to be bothered with this anymore. It hurt. A lot. I felt like I had leprosy and I had been sent away to a colony for the good of the community. It was weird to think that I’d never see Ben’s family again, either. Not that we were very close, I’d only met them a couple of times at holidays during the two years total that he and I had been together. The fact is, I had no family left and his parents would have been the only grandparents. I almost wondered if he’d even told them. I had to shake myself as these thoughts were completely unproductive.

So if it weren’t for the alien’s nocturnal activities, I might have thought my life was just moving along normally. Instead, I was seriously dragging. At the next doctor’s appointment, she said enough was enough and put me out on disability. I had five weeks to go until my due date, but I was wrecked. I let work know that my sub needed to start sooner than anticipated. Thankfully, they had already found someone to replace me who was a retired teacher and was familiar with the end of the year responsibilities. I came home on my last day with a massive headache and took a long nap.

That should have been my first clue. Sleeping for more than an hour without having to move or go pee was unheard of. I’d slept for four. When I sat up I expected to feel the alien stretch with me. Instead, all was quiet in the house and in my womb. In a panic, I called my doctor’s pager number and she got back to me ten minutes later.

“I don’t know. I just feel like something’s wrong. I slept for a really long time and now I can’t feel anything.”

She told me to meet her at the ER so I grabbed my purse and keys and drove without giving it a second thought. I went on my own, since that was how it was now.

We arrived within a few minutes of each other and I was swept away immediately for an ultrasound. She tried and tried to find a heartbeat. I was growing more despondent by the minute. My little alien was slipping away from me.

After several minutes, the doctor stepped out with one of her colleagues and tears began to run silently down my face. I texted Maryland to let her know where I was and dropped my phone back into my purse. I prayed and prayed for my little alien to kick me, hell, to even stomp on my kidney or something. Just to let me know she/he was still with me.

The doctors returned and told me that they felt it would be best to induce labor. I vaguely heard the words pre-eclampsia, placenta not functioning, stillborn. Maryland was shown in and held my hand while the doctors explained a procedure that I had already mentally checked out for. I don’t remember much else until I woke up the next morning. Alone. My alien was gone. Gone.

McShane

Thoughts of the Goddess hit me at strange times over the next month or so. Yes, she was given capital status after I got home from the show. I thought about her one night while I was watching old movies with the grandmothers. When I watched Shirley MacLaine in “Can Can,” the Goddess’ face was all I could see. Then there was the day a woman came into my store pushing a stroller. I began to have thoughts about when she might have been due to have her baby, like who was there for her? I was stupid to think the lack of a ring on her finger meant anything. I remembered my mother taking hers off when she was further along with the twins because her fingers were swollen. Luckily for my sanity, life got even busier and I barely had time to breathe, much less fixate on this woman.

My father had been diagnosed with prostate cancer in February and made it through surgery successfully. His treatments were difficult and took a lot out of him, but he was responding well. My mother contemplated taking time off of her work as a social worker to care for him, but he assured her he didn’t need that. I offered to take him to his chemo appointments and so it was settled.

The day he was scheduled for his last chemo, we went out for breakfast alone together. He ordered a hearty meal, something he hadn’t been able to do in a while.

“Looks like you’re getting your appetite back, hey Pops?”  

He laughed and said, “It’s these damn steroids they give you before the treatment. They make you so damn hungry! Too bad everything tastes like you’ve been sucking on an exhaust pipe!”

I watched with relief as he shoveled in the food. He’d lost over forty pounds during this time and it was hard to see him getting frail. He had been so full of life and vigor before. Now he looked older than his sixty years. He’d gotten full retirement benefits from the City of Hayward Maintenance department and I was hoping he’d finally get to slow down and enjoy life. He and Mom had a very loving relationship even after three sons and two mothers living with them. He worshipped the ground she walked on and she regularly puts him in his place. She never would have made it married to the Afghan man her father wanted her to marry because she was a woman who naturally took control. She ran away to marry Pops and never regretted it for a minute. Her mother came to live with us ten years ago when Mom’s father died. He was the only one that was angry with my mother for leaving. The rest of the family was more tolerant of American ways and they liked my father.

I was thinking to myself about how Pops always made Mom smile and it had me thinking of the Goddess, again. He immediately called me on it.

“Son, when are you going to quit playing around with these girls and find yourself a good woman? A man like yerself, good looking ‘a course ‘cause ye’ve got yer mother’s genes in ye and mine aren’t half bad, shouldn’t be mooning away like this.”

Pops’ Irish lilt came out stronger whenever he was going to give us a ‘stern talking to.’  He stared at me hard for a few minutes and I kept picking at my food, hoping he’d change the line of questioning.

“I know, Pops. It ain’t for lack of trying! I just haven’t found the right person yet.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes at me. “Well, I’m glad ye gave up on that Hayley girl. I mean, come on! Leave a little to the imagination!”  

She did dress rather on the skimpy side. Pops had appreciated it the first time he met her, but when he saw that I maybe had real feelings about her, he told me to drop her like a rotten potato.

“I know and you were right about her. I should have listened. Thankfully, my blood tests came back clean.” I shook myself, realizing I needed to be much more careful. I was glad I could talk to Pops about it. I knew he wouldn’t judge me. He sat back in his chair with a sorrowful look.

“She ran around on ye, didn’t she? Oh, son. I’m sorry about that. You’re a hopeless romantic just like me. Thankfully, your mother saved me from whoring around for years.”

I smiled and shook my head. “There aren’t many like Mom out there. You got lucky.” Although, the one I dreamed about might just be a good one. I shook my head again and Pops grunted.

“So what’s that grin about?”  

I shrugged and stirred my eggs around on my plate. “Just saw a woman at that show I worked recently. You know the job I took at the concert venue?”  

Pops wiped his mouth with his napkin and took a sip of his tea. His hand was shaking and I noticed that the bones in his wrist stuck out much further than they had before. He was a couple inches shorter than my 6’4” but he seemed much smaller than that now. I swallowed hard.

“Yer just like me, working too damn much. Don’t let yer life pass you by, Aaron. I know we put a lot of pressure on ye to help out with yer brothers and I’m sorry all this has made it rough on you-”

“Pops! Will you quit already? I’m here because I want to be here, alright? Quit trying to get rid of me! But we better finish up or we’re going to be late.”

He looked at his watch and I noticed a little more trembling. I paid the bill and we stepped out into a warm May morning.

Pops’ treatments were at the Hayward Kaiser. The room had several stations set up for patients to get their intravenous medicine. It always pained me to see the other patients, some of them much younger than my father, some of them even younger than me, and just how much the chemo was taking out of them. I sat in a chair next to Pops and we talked about the Giants prospects, the possible BART strike, and what to do about the twins.

“I thought I was a reckless lad. Those two boys together are terrible trouble! Yer mom got a call from the school saying that Peter is failing math and if he doesn’t get his grades up there’ll be no Water Polo next fall. He’ll be a senior, son! If he doesn’t play next year, there goes his hope for a scholarship.”

I ran my hands over my head. Pops still had a thick head of black hair dappled with grey when he started chemo. It started to fall out and he shaved it. The doctors assured him it would grow back, but mine had started thinning while I was still in graduate school. Shaving it was just easier. I must have taken after Mom’s side of the family. I certainly had her dark skin and features. I had Pop’s dark eyes and his smile, they always told me. The twins were fairer than me, with the stunning green eyes of the Afghan people. They were very popular with the girls. I don’t know how many times I’d found them trying to sneak girls into the house, or even my apartment out back. Pops and I had talked long and hard with them about the trouble they’d bring into their lives by being careless. I thought things were better, but something must be distracting Peter if he’s failing math. Those boys were wicked smart with math and science.

I was deep in my own thoughts when the nurse approached and started Pops’ IV. He teased her about being gentle. He showed her the bruises that had yet to heal from his last treatment and she smiled kindly.

“Mr. McShane this is your last one today, so if you get a bruise, at least that will be the last one, right?”  

He laughed and told her she could rough him up all she wanted as long as he was still sitting there breathing. When she walked away he kicked my boot.

“Now why didn’t ye smile back at her, son? She’s smiled at ye every time ye’ve come in here! That’s the kind of woman ye should be dating.”

The nurse was a petite Filipina, and she was cute, but I was ruined. I figured I should confess. “Pops, I can’t get that woman out of my head. The one from the show. A redhead, can you believe it?”

Pops’ expression grew serious. “Ye have to take care with a ginger woman. They can be a handful.”

I laughed humorlessly. “I could use a handful right now. Seriously, Pops. It’s scary. She was pregnant, even! She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Not including Mom.” Pops gave me a sad smile.

“Son, I hate to see you so alone. A’ course she was beautiful if she was pregnant. That’s the loveliest time for a woman in my opinion. Yer mother was never more breathtaking than when she carried ye and yer brothers.”

I sighed. “I don’t know, Pops. I know I did the right thing, leaving my job. I love the shop and I’m glad I can be there for the family. Is it too selfish to wish for love?” I knew how Pops felt about love, which is the only reason I felt comfortable belly aching with him about it.

His face grew determined. “Son, you know what I think. Without the love of a good woman a man’s life is empty. I don’t want that for you.” He reached over with his good hand and squeezed my knee.

We sat in silence for the rest of his treatment, him, resting his eyes, me thinking about everything and nothing and always coming back to the image of flame colored hair and those blue-green eyes.