Sunday, November 28, 2004
Interlude - 2004
Interlude - 2004
The tour bus pulled off of the highway onto the Route 34 connector. Doug Harris looked out at the shell of the New Haven Coliseum as they passed by. He’d gone to so many shows there, hell, he’d played hockey there. Now it was empty. He wondered if the Chapel Square Mall was still open as the bus merged onto Legion Avenue, headed for Westville.
The ride around Long Island had taken longer than expected, as they’d hit traffic in Stamford and again in Bridgeport. As a result, the afternoon shadows were just beginning to grow as the bus turned onto Yale Avenue by the Bowl and headed towards its final destination, Doug’s mother’s house. Doug was hit with another wave of nostalgia as they passed the Yale Bowl. He’d been a regular at Yale football games when he was a kid. He and his friends would climb over the back of the stands and wrestle around on the grass that grew over the skeleton of the field until the ushers came to try and chase them off. They just laughed and ran off to another part of the Bowl.
Kevin was asleep in a bunk towards the back, iPod strapped to his ears. Doug walked back and nudged him.
“Wha... Oh, hey man, what’s up?” Kevin yawned and stretched.
“We’re home.”
“Home’s L.A. man. We’re in purgatory.” Like Doug, Kevin hadn’t ventured back to New Haven in a long time. He’d bought an old home in Laurel Canyon that previously was owned by one of the Eagles, and he liked the West Coast lifestyle. He was only going to stay for the festivities, then it would be back to L.A. except for occasional visits to Bernadette.
“Hey, this is still our home, even if we’ve abandoned it for better things.” Doug reached up into the bulkhead over Kevin’s bunk and pulled out his travel bag. He then walked back and knocked on the rear cabin door.
“Bernadette?”
“Just a second.” He waited and then the door opened. Bernadette Adams, who was Doug’s backup singer and Kevin’s current flame, had been sleeping in what was normally Doug’s bunk. She walked back in and sat down on the small bunk as he stood in the doorway. “What’s up?”
“We’re here. So, when’s your first class?”
“Not for a couple of weeks. My parents are going to fly in and spend a couple of days with us.” Bernadette was going to be attending Yale in the fall.
“That’s cool. Tell them I said hello. I may not get a chance to see them.”
“Okay.” She already had an apartment set up in New Haven, courtesy of Doug’s management. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I’ll call you when I know what’s happening with the new record. But I want you to hit those books. Don’t be like me.” He then went back to his seat. Instinctively he looked over as they passed the Masters’. Did he see a curtain twitch, just like all those years ago? Ah, you’re just seeing things, he thought.
The bus pulled up in front of 320 Yale Avenue and stopped. The bus driver shut the engine off and got out to open the compartments below. Doug stretched, then grabbed his travel bag. He walked down to the front of the bus and was hit with a blast of humid August air as he got to the door. Laura O’Donnell was standing on the sidewalk.
“So, the prodigal son returns.”
“Hi, Mom.” He climbed down the steps and walked over to her. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.
“Well, it’s still here.” She gestured at the house. “Not that you’ve been here in a long time.”
“Come on, Mom. Let’s not do this now. Where’s Uncle John?” He looked around. The lawn was still neatly manicured, and the house looked like it had been recently painted.
“He’s at work. He’ll be home soon.” She smiled at him. “Oh, I can’t be mad at you. It’s good to have you home, Doug.” She hugged him as Kevin stepped off the bus behind him.
“And Kevin, look at you. Doesn’t my son pay you enough so you can eat?”
“Hi, Missus O’D.”
“Please, you know you can call me Laura. How’ve you been, Kevin?”
“Oh, you know. Getting dragged all over civilization by the kid here’s fun, but it gets tiring.”
“Well, there’s a room in the house all made up for you. It’ll be nice to have people in the house. And this must be the famous Bernadette. Aren’t you a lovely little thing?”
Bernadette flushed. “Hi, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”
“Please. It’s Laura. Ma’am, that was my mother. So, you’re going to Yale, I hear? Well good luck.” Doug, who was now standing behind his mother, rolled his eyes comically. Bernadette stifled a laugh.
“Doug, dear, it’s so nice to have you home. I was just telling Carol Masters that the other day after you called.”
“How’s Carol? She still...”
“No, she’s not mad at you anymore. No one ever really was.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Oh, Doug. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. That was a long time ago. Come on, let’s go inside. It’s too hot out here.” They went into the house. He went down the stairs to his basement lair, which was still as he’d left it fifteen years before. He dropped his bag onto the bed and sat down next to it. He could hear his mom upstairs giving Kevin the third degree. He smiled, and then his gaze fell upon a picture in a frame next to his pillow. He looked at it, and sighed. This was going to be a very strange couple of days.
The next morning, he awoke early. His knee twinged as he slowly eased out of the bed. He looked up at the stairs, and ruefully thought that he should have had his mom pull out the hide-a-bed instead. He walked over and sat down at the desk. He picked up an old notebook that was sitting there and opened it. He smiled as he looked at some old and terrible attempts to write that first song, the one that had pushed him out of the clubs and into the bedrooms of teenage girls around the country.
He was just about to attempt to climb the stairs to the first floor when his cell phone rang.
“Your dime.”
“Do you always answer the phone that way?” Gary Ablett was on the other end of the line, and he sounded way too cheery for this early in the day.
“Yeah. What’s up, bro?”
“Nothing. Just checking to see if you got in okay.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just dreading trying to climb the stairs to the first floor.”
“Oh. Sorry, man. Look, everyone else is here now. Jack got in late last night, and Charlie’s sleeping in a guest bedroom in the main house. And uh, you know Bill works for me.”
“Yeah. I knew that.” He picked up his cane from the floor. “Hey, uh, have you seen Kim lately?”
“Almost every week. She does my books at 24 Frames.”
Doug grimaced. Maybe he had seen the curtain twitch after all. “She aware of all of this?”
“Tough for her not to be. She’s in the wedding too, you know.”
Oh, shit. “Greaaaaat. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear. Darrell neglected to mention that.”
“I figured as much when he told me you were still going to be coming.”
Doug stood up, and tried to flex his knee. He grabbed his travel bag and rummaged around. He pulled out his cigarettes and a bottle of pills. “Listen, can I call you back in a little while? I’ve got to try to get up these stairs.”
“Yeah, man. Why don’t you come by the store?”
“Okay. Whitney Avenue in Spring Glen, right?” He hung up the phone, and slowly climbed the stairs. As he got to the top of the stairs, he noticed an envelope sitting on the top step. It had his name on it in plain script. He thought he recognized the handwriting. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, then wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. Might as well open this and see if it’s what I think it is.
He unfolded a sheet of cream-colored stationary. At the top were the words “Masters and Masters, CPA” and Kim’s name was down at the bottom next to her father’s. Doug read the words with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Doug,
I know that you are coming home today. I suspect that I will even see the bus pass our house at some point during the day. As much as I want to hate you for all that has happened, I find that I can’t. I feel like I need to see you, to make you understand all the things that you took away from me, but I’m afraid that I’ll look at you and remember all the good things, like that night at Gary’s party, and the last fourteen years that I’ve spent hating you will be for naught. I tried to convince Darrell not to have you, but he insisted. It’s only fair that you’re involved anyway. And I was fine with it. Right up until I saw your picture in the supermarket on that terrible newspaper, and the old feelings came back again.
Maybe I’ll call you. Maybe we’ll see each other before the wedding.
K.
Doug put the sheet of paper down on the counter, then lit his first cigarette of the day. He wondered why Darrell hadn’t bothered to mention that Kim was in the wedding. More importantly, he wondered why he hadn’t guessed it either. Oh, well, he thought, I guess it’s time to pay the piper.
The tour bus pulled off of the highway onto the Route 34 connector. Doug Harris looked out at the shell of the New Haven Coliseum as they passed by. He’d gone to so many shows there, hell, he’d played hockey there. Now it was empty. He wondered if the Chapel Square Mall was still open as the bus merged onto Legion Avenue, headed for Westville.
The ride around Long Island had taken longer than expected, as they’d hit traffic in Stamford and again in Bridgeport. As a result, the afternoon shadows were just beginning to grow as the bus turned onto Yale Avenue by the Bowl and headed towards its final destination, Doug’s mother’s house. Doug was hit with another wave of nostalgia as they passed the Yale Bowl. He’d been a regular at Yale football games when he was a kid. He and his friends would climb over the back of the stands and wrestle around on the grass that grew over the skeleton of the field until the ushers came to try and chase them off. They just laughed and ran off to another part of the Bowl.
Kevin was asleep in a bunk towards the back, iPod strapped to his ears. Doug walked back and nudged him.
“Wha... Oh, hey man, what’s up?” Kevin yawned and stretched.
“We’re home.”
“Home’s L.A. man. We’re in purgatory.” Like Doug, Kevin hadn’t ventured back to New Haven in a long time. He’d bought an old home in Laurel Canyon that previously was owned by one of the Eagles, and he liked the West Coast lifestyle. He was only going to stay for the festivities, then it would be back to L.A. except for occasional visits to Bernadette.
“Hey, this is still our home, even if we’ve abandoned it for better things.” Doug reached up into the bulkhead over Kevin’s bunk and pulled out his travel bag. He then walked back and knocked on the rear cabin door.
“Bernadette?”
“Just a second.” He waited and then the door opened. Bernadette Adams, who was Doug’s backup singer and Kevin’s current flame, had been sleeping in what was normally Doug’s bunk. She walked back in and sat down on the small bunk as he stood in the doorway. “What’s up?”
“We’re here. So, when’s your first class?”
“Not for a couple of weeks. My parents are going to fly in and spend a couple of days with us.” Bernadette was going to be attending Yale in the fall.
“That’s cool. Tell them I said hello. I may not get a chance to see them.”
“Okay.” She already had an apartment set up in New Haven, courtesy of Doug’s management. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I’ll call you when I know what’s happening with the new record. But I want you to hit those books. Don’t be like me.” He then went back to his seat. Instinctively he looked over as they passed the Masters’. Did he see a curtain twitch, just like all those years ago? Ah, you’re just seeing things, he thought.
The bus pulled up in front of 320 Yale Avenue and stopped. The bus driver shut the engine off and got out to open the compartments below. Doug stretched, then grabbed his travel bag. He walked down to the front of the bus and was hit with a blast of humid August air as he got to the door. Laura O’Donnell was standing on the sidewalk.
“So, the prodigal son returns.”
“Hi, Mom.” He climbed down the steps and walked over to her. He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.
“Well, it’s still here.” She gestured at the house. “Not that you’ve been here in a long time.”
“Come on, Mom. Let’s not do this now. Where’s Uncle John?” He looked around. The lawn was still neatly manicured, and the house looked like it had been recently painted.
“He’s at work. He’ll be home soon.” She smiled at him. “Oh, I can’t be mad at you. It’s good to have you home, Doug.” She hugged him as Kevin stepped off the bus behind him.
“And Kevin, look at you. Doesn’t my son pay you enough so you can eat?”
“Hi, Missus O’D.”
“Please, you know you can call me Laura. How’ve you been, Kevin?”
“Oh, you know. Getting dragged all over civilization by the kid here’s fun, but it gets tiring.”
“Well, there’s a room in the house all made up for you. It’ll be nice to have people in the house. And this must be the famous Bernadette. Aren’t you a lovely little thing?”
Bernadette flushed. “Hi, ma’am. Nice to meet you.”
“Please. It’s Laura. Ma’am, that was my mother. So, you’re going to Yale, I hear? Well good luck.” Doug, who was now standing behind his mother, rolled his eyes comically. Bernadette stifled a laugh.
“Doug, dear, it’s so nice to have you home. I was just telling Carol Masters that the other day after you called.”
“How’s Carol? She still...”
“No, she’s not mad at you anymore. No one ever really was.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Oh, Doug. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. That was a long time ago. Come on, let’s go inside. It’s too hot out here.” They went into the house. He went down the stairs to his basement lair, which was still as he’d left it fifteen years before. He dropped his bag onto the bed and sat down next to it. He could hear his mom upstairs giving Kevin the third degree. He smiled, and then his gaze fell upon a picture in a frame next to his pillow. He looked at it, and sighed. This was going to be a very strange couple of days.
The next morning, he awoke early. His knee twinged as he slowly eased out of the bed. He looked up at the stairs, and ruefully thought that he should have had his mom pull out the hide-a-bed instead. He walked over and sat down at the desk. He picked up an old notebook that was sitting there and opened it. He smiled as he looked at some old and terrible attempts to write that first song, the one that had pushed him out of the clubs and into the bedrooms of teenage girls around the country.
He was just about to attempt to climb the stairs to the first floor when his cell phone rang.
“Your dime.”
“Do you always answer the phone that way?” Gary Ablett was on the other end of the line, and he sounded way too cheery for this early in the day.
“Yeah. What’s up, bro?”
“Nothing. Just checking to see if you got in okay.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just dreading trying to climb the stairs to the first floor.”
“Oh. Sorry, man. Look, everyone else is here now. Jack got in late last night, and Charlie’s sleeping in a guest bedroom in the main house. And uh, you know Bill works for me.”
“Yeah. I knew that.” He picked up his cane from the floor. “Hey, uh, have you seen Kim lately?”
“Almost every week. She does my books at 24 Frames.”
Doug grimaced. Maybe he had seen the curtain twitch after all. “She aware of all of this?”
“Tough for her not to be. She’s in the wedding too, you know.”
Oh, shit. “Greaaaaat. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear. Darrell neglected to mention that.”
“I figured as much when he told me you were still going to be coming.”
Doug stood up, and tried to flex his knee. He grabbed his travel bag and rummaged around. He pulled out his cigarettes and a bottle of pills. “Listen, can I call you back in a little while? I’ve got to try to get up these stairs.”
“Yeah, man. Why don’t you come by the store?”
“Okay. Whitney Avenue in Spring Glen, right?” He hung up the phone, and slowly climbed the stairs. As he got to the top of the stairs, he noticed an envelope sitting on the top step. It had his name on it in plain script. He thought he recognized the handwriting. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, then wiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. Might as well open this and see if it’s what I think it is.
He unfolded a sheet of cream-colored stationary. At the top were the words “Masters and Masters, CPA” and Kim’s name was down at the bottom next to her father’s. Doug read the words with a sinking feeling in his stomach.
Doug,
I know that you are coming home today. I suspect that I will even see the bus pass our house at some point during the day. As much as I want to hate you for all that has happened, I find that I can’t. I feel like I need to see you, to make you understand all the things that you took away from me, but I’m afraid that I’ll look at you and remember all the good things, like that night at Gary’s party, and the last fourteen years that I’ve spent hating you will be for naught. I tried to convince Darrell not to have you, but he insisted. It’s only fair that you’re involved anyway. And I was fine with it. Right up until I saw your picture in the supermarket on that terrible newspaper, and the old feelings came back again.
Maybe I’ll call you. Maybe we’ll see each other before the wedding.
K.
Doug put the sheet of paper down on the counter, then lit his first cigarette of the day. He wondered why Darrell hadn’t bothered to mention that Kim was in the wedding. More importantly, he wondered why he hadn’t guessed it either. Oh, well, he thought, I guess it’s time to pay the piper.
