Monday, May 3, 2010

Johnny's Father/Calling Deidre

Johnny's Father
It wasn't twenty-four hours after we got back from Milwaukee when somebody rang the doorbell at the house, which was unusual. No one had done that since the first week I had rented the house. I would wake up at all hours to find one of the boys watching TV, smoking pot, or having a party with some friends, I'd also heard about a lot of parties that happened while I was gone, but no one rang the bell any more. I answered the door, standing there was a distinguished looking middle-aged man with short gray hair, in a three-piece suit.
"I'm William Rydel." He said, walking in, "Johnny's father." He surveyed the room with a look of disdain on his face.
"I'm glad to meet you." I said, holding out my hand.
"Why do you think I stopped giving my son money for a rehearsal space?" His condescending attitude took me aback momentarily.
"I don't know anything about their previous arrangements." I said.
"It was because I was trying to discourage him from such a risky career choice. I had them on the verge of breaking up. Ian graduated last spring. Without a band he was already looking for another band, or thinking about moving back home to find a job. Even Brian was at a loss as to what to do, and he's the one who usually pulls Johnny back into this fantasy."
"You forgot Mitchell in your little rendition." I said.
"He's useless. He'll do anything to avoid responsibility, just like you."
"Thanks for the recommendation."
"Then," his voice was stern, "you come along and get a tour for them. And the dreams and fly by night ambitions are back. Now, thanks to you I get to take a different tack. I get to be the hero with my son and the band when this all falls apart I get to pick up the pieces, I’m not the villan anymore. Do you know what I'm talking about?"
"Other than the band, no."
"I talked to my son about this situation last night."
"What situation would that be?" I asked.
"You’re making more money than my son and the rest of HIS band."
"It's fair," I said, "I'm not the only one who thinks so. The agent..."
"Be assured," he said, in a controlled voice, "that I will be contacting Mr. Leonard in this matter." He stared at me sternly, "but if my son wants to be in the music business he's going to have to learn it the hard way. And you're part of that lesson. Personally, I hope your deceit dissuades him from pursuing this career any further. I don't know where you get your sense of entitlement that you think you can..."
"It's not their band now," I said. "It's OUR band, it was my idea for the cover band. Before I found them they were just local wannabes. Without me they couldn't even get a gig."
"That may be true, but at least they would've succeeded or failed on the merits of their talents or lack thereof, without someone negotiating for them who only has his own self-interest at heart."
"That would make me laugh if I didn't know you were serious. Your son is old enough, he knows what he wants to do. He made a deal and he'll be held to it."
"I'm just letting you know I'm looking into smoothing out the inequities for my son and his band. If you try to take anymore unfair advantage of those boys; I will see to it there will be a day of reckoning for you."
"I know how to handle parents like you." I said.
"We'll see," was all he said as he walked out.

Calling Deidre
I turned the volume down on the TV, and fiddled nervously with the phone cord as the phone on the other end rang.
"Hello?" Deidre said, a little groggily.
"Guess where I am," I said.
"I couldn't guess." I could hear the exasperation in her voice when she recognized my voice.
"I started a band, we're going on tour. I just wanted to talk to you before I left."
"That's cool. I read the review in the paper. What did you want to talk to me about?"
"I miss you."
"Don't be doing this, Michael." She said.
"I'm doing this for you."
"You should be doing it for yourself, not me, and not us. I'm happy with my life and if you remember," her voice got a little harder, "it wasn't my choice, really."
"I'm going to make it big in this band."
"Just listen to yourself Michael, you sound like a gambler looking for the big score and you'll live happily ever after. But it never happens, the big score is always right around the next corner. I just hope you'll be happy with the life you've chosen."
"Aren't you even going to ask me what it's like on tour?"
"No."
"Oh." I said, disappointed, "I never knew what you wanted."
"I used to think you were going somewhere, Michael. At first I thought you were..."
"You thought I was your ticket out of town."
"Oh, Michael, all I ever wanted was you. Happy, sad, famous, a farmer, whatever. I think that'll be your downfall."
"I didn't want to hurt you. I was just doing what I thought was best for the both of us." There was a cold silence on the other end. "Well, good-bye." I whispered. I realized this was the end, this was the song, and I knew the finality of good-bye. I hung up.

(The Last Stage is available on Kindle, Nook Books, or if you would like a signed copy of The Last Stage they're available from my website (only $20!) at Jymsbooks via Paypal (jymwrite@aol.com, please don't forget your mailing address!)

Chapts 21 & 22: Hollywood Today! & Dream

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