Jake nodded, soaking up my wisdom. “But what if I want to make it good for her too?”
“It won’t be, so there’s no sense in worrying about it.”
“Keith, I’m serious. I don’t have much time.”
I sighed. “All right, fine. A little trade secret – you can buy a lot of time with a well-placed thumb.”
* * *
Once the knock came at the door, I made my exit. Wandering for a while in the dark, I resisted the sounds of riotous fun streaming from the band and crew buses. Jake was playing the same venue the following day as well, so we were camped out in the parking lot for the night. And overnights became tailgates. And tailgates became blow-out parties. And partying came with shit I had no business ever getting involved in again.
Addiction had taken me down a treacherous path, and I found myself drifting that way more and more the further away I got from the protection of home. It was easier to stay on the straight and narrow when the people around me were as committed to my sobriety as I was. But on the road, the lines were blurred, and convictions became harder to abide by.
After Jake’s return, I’d tried so hard to hold it together, having only to look to him for motivation. Withdrawal had been a bitch, but I knew if Jake could pull his life out of the shitter after everything he’d been through, then I sure as hell could do it too. That day in the hospital was the turning point for me. Whatever issues I had, Jake had them ten times worse, and the only way to support him was to keep myself in one piece. So that’s what I did. For Jake. And for my parents who’d suffered enough. And for me – like I promised Sam all those years ago.
But long stretches of sobriety were routinely interrupted by nasty relapses, the last one even landing me in an outpatient rehab. I’d only been clean for four months when the offer to tour with Jake came along. His manager presented me with a very detailed list of duties; just as long was the list of don’t-ies. I signed on the dotted line, knowing the risks involved but believing that entering into a binding contract would be the best way to keep me away from the bad influences. Wrong. In true Keith fashion, all it had done was drive me into the shadows. A drink here, a blunt there… maybe even a pill or two for good measure. It was all about moderation and keeping my head above water.
Sliding my hands through my hair, I walked toward the gate separating me from the real world. Fans were still milling around, perhaps waiting for an invitation to the crew party they could hear even from across the parking lot. I knew trouble lay on the other side of that fencing; and yet I went straight for it as if I were being pulled to the dark side by some hypnotic force. Shaking my head, I focused on what had happened a couple of weeks ago when Jake caught me flying high. I’d promised him then that it would be the last time. And he’d promised me then that there would be no more second chances.
“Hey, do you work for Jake?” a woman asked, pressed up against the fencing. She appeared only a couple years older than me, but the relatively short amount of time she’d walked this earth hadn’t been kind to her. “Sounds fun back there, but you know, every party needs some entertainment.”
I stopped. Why did I stop? “What type of entertainment are we talking?”
She perked right up, perhaps not expecting my sudden interest. “Honey, I’m my own talent agency. I can get you anything you need and more.”
I cast her an eager glance. There was no doubt she was connected, and in only a matter of minutes I could have the drug of my choice in hand. Temptation called my name. I could find myself an empty corner of the lot and enjoy a little peace of mind for a change.No. Keep it together. Any relief I felt would only be a temporary, and as soon as the euphoria faded, I’d be right back to chasing the high – and back to delivering pizzas to a different type of addict.
Walk the fuck away.
And, for once, I listened to that voice in my head and took two giant steps back. “Hey. Sorry. I was mistaken.”
Perhaps sensing the loss of easy money, the temptress reached her arm through the fence. “No. Don’t leave. I can get you the finest blow. Honey, come back.”
As she kept calling for me, it became clear that merely walking was no longer cutting it, and before I knew it, I was sprinting frantically away from danger, back to the bus where I’d be safe. I skidded to a halt at the sound of Lassen’s rough, husky voice.
“They’re still in there,” he warned, in an accusatory tone. “Give the kid his privacy.”
“I wasn’t going in,” I replied, with an equal amount of antagonism. Did he really think the plan was for me to beaver dam my little bro on the day of his deliverance?
Lassen and I glared at each other like the enemies we were. Throughout our entire stare down, he was spitting sunflower seed shells from the corner of his mouth. A pile lay on the ground by his side.
“What are you running from?” he asked, more shells spurting out from the tiny opening in his lip.
“What do you care?”
He shrugged, a shell going airborne. “I don’t. Just passing the time. Don’t tell me if you don’t want. It’s not like I’m going to lose any sleep over it.”
No, I didn’t suppose he would. Lassen never had any trouble sleeping, as evidenced by the restless nights I’d spent listening to him snore and fart, fantasizing about silencing him forever. I glanced at the empty chair beside him. There was always an empty chair next to the Grinch Who Stole Happiness. Just to defy him I plopped down and made myself comfortable.
We sat in silence while he added to the pile of seeds between our chairs, and even though he had no interest in my drama, I felt the need to explain myself. “I’m running from my past.”
Crunch. Spit. “And how’s that going for you?”
“Well, I got back without pills in my pocket, so I’d call that a good day.”
Lassen nodded, another mouthful of seeds spat into the landfill. Without commenting on my rather telling statement, he tipped the bag in my direction. “You want some?”
“Nah,” I replied, waving off his offering. “I don’t like sunflower seeds.”
