Rhythm in Blue Read online

  They were at the Islander for their final night, and it wasn’t just Rick with a heavy heart. Even Randy was missing the bounce and pep that was his norm. Erin played a dice game with Keith, leaving Kostas to man the bar by himself. She couldn’t look at Rick it seemed, without becoming weepy, so she chose to ignore him instead.

  They spent the afternoon at the port cafe, where the friends they made over the last six weeks stopped by to wish them continued success and safe travels. Morgan sat with them at the cafe, constantly bemoaning the sense of loss their departure would cast upon the island. Larry and Judy stopped for a coffee and invited them to dinner, but Rick politely declined, saying they had plans (thankfully) with Erin and Kostas. Devon asked after Shelby, and Judy shook her head, informing them, that once again, Shelby was grounded.

  Rick hadn’t seen her since the terrible incident at her house, and the thought of leaving the island without an opportunity to clear the air between them had been eating at him since he left her. It wasn’t as if he knew what he would say, anyway. There didn’t seem to be any words to heal the pain he inflicted. Certainly, their relationship, given all the new emotions Rick experienced as a result, deserved a longer life, he thought. He had hoped the bond they formed was something he could always treasure, and someday cultivate into something more, but sitting at the bar this last night, he realized he had broken that bond irreparably.

  Randy and Morgan danced to a slow tune, giving an appearance of attachment and regret at parting. The two-week affair was a record for Randy, and if the rumors were true, it was a record for Morgan, as well. He knew Randy thought the romance gave him a depth that he had been lacking, and he played it to the hilt. Rick listened as Randy whined about his imminent loss, and how all his feelings should make for some great love songs, but even Keith had trouble keeping a straight face as Randy spoke of his great love.

  “What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get back?” Devon aked, and from his tone, Rick was certain he had to repeat the question several times.

  “Take a really hot shower...” Hot water was one of the things that seemed to be in short supply in Greece, and warm to tepid showers were getting old.

  “I want a Big Mac,” Keith said.

  “What about you,” Rick asked Devon, “what’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

  “I’m gonna find me a big ol’ bag of Mexican weed and dive in. You may not see me for a few days...or a week.” The idea appealed to Rick too, hoping the return to familiar patterns might ease the uncomfortable feelings that he’d recently become accustomed to.

  Erin, rolled her eyes at the pot reference, and added, “If I were going back with you, I would turn on the tube, watch until my eyes started to bleed, and pig out on Mexican food.” As a teenager on the road with Smoke n’ Mirrors, Erin spent much of her time in hotel rooms, glued to reruns of Gilligan’s Island and Petticoat Junction while the guys rehearsed or played shows. Rick wondered that she never had a weight problem, sitting for hours on end, eating junk food and watching TV.

  Keith left his game with Erin to dance solo to Bob Marley, who wailed Stir It Up, signaling that it was past midnight, and, therefore, officially the day of departure. Randy and Morgan sat in a dark corner of the club, necking like teenagers. Devon was talking about plans for upcoming shows with Rick, and had some crazy idea about adding pyrotechnics to the stage show – very un-Devon-like – when he looked over Rick’s shoulder and said, “There she is! I was starting to think we might not see you again in time.”

  Rick’s head snapped around to find Shelby walking towards them. She looked directly at Devon, avoiding Rick’s eyes. As she got closer, he could see bruises on her face and arms.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Devon asked.

  She quickly looked away, turning a dark shade of red. “I got wasted and fell down the stairs the other night,” she said, daring a quick glance at Rick.

  “A little young to be drinking, aren’t you?” Devon asked.

  “I know, it was stupid,” she admitted, her gaze returning to Devon.

  “And isn’t it a little late for you to be out? We heard you were grounded.”

  “I know, but I had to come say goodbye before you leave.” Again, she directed her comment to Devon.

  “Well, I’m glad you did, even if you did have to sneak out. We’d a hated to have missed you!”

  Rick scrambled for something to say, but came up empty. Keith returned from his dance, and put his arm around Shelby, giving her a quick squeeze. She winced in pain, but Keith didn’t notice. “You gonna keep in touch and come see us when you come back to the States?” he asked.

  “You know I will,” she said. “Might be a long time though.” She still wouldn’t meet Rick’s eyes, even though he followed hers relentlessly. She was a different girl than the one he left several days ago. Something had changed, and Rick couldn’t put his finger on what that change was exactly, but it was definitely noticeable.

  “How’s the song writing going? You’re gonna keep up with the guitar, right?” Keith asked.

  “I will. I practice every day.”

  Rick saw his opening to the conversation and jumped in. “She’s going to be great someday, she’ll show all of us how it’s done.” He waited nervously for her reaction, but she had none.

  “Maybe someday, we’ll be the opening act for your show!” Keith teased.

  “Well, that may be taking it a little far, if I’m lucky, I’ll at least be able to play a whole song.”

  Rick decided to push his luck and address her directly. “Your songs are really good, you need to dedicate yourself to sticking with it, and one day, it will pay off. You’ve got such a good ear.” He turned to Devon and Keith, “She really does have a great ear, picks things up instantly.” If Shelby looked at him, he missed it, because he only saw her look at the floor. His shell necklace still hung around her neck, giving him some relief. She periodically reached up and touched it, but that was the only acknowledgement he received.

  “Well, I’m sure you’ll do great,” Devon said. “You gonna say ‘bye’ to Randy? He’s over in the corner with Morgan.” Devon pointed to where the couple was fawning over one another.

  “I suppose I’d better,” Shelby said, heading toward the two. As they watched her walk away, Rick knew they were all wondering the same thing: What had changed her so much? He figured he was to blame for her drunken mishap, but the difference he saw in her was almost more than he could take, and he couldn’t believe the ordeal would have such a dramatic effect on her. There has to be more to it than that.

  “I sure hope we see her again,” said Devon.

  “Oh, I’m sure we will,” Keith said.

  Rick watched as Randy wrapped Shelby in a bear hug, and then led her onto the dance floor for one last dance. He pulled her to the middle of the floor, but Shelby worked them to the edge, away from the other dancers, her enthusiasm gone. Despite Randy’s best efforts to draw her out, she maintained her isolation, anonymous among the surrounding dancers, and rarely raised her eyes from the floor.

  “She still seems a little pissed at you, Ricky,” Devon said.

  “So it would seem,” he said, glad to have the handy excuse for her detached treatment.

  Shelby gave Randy a final hug on the dance floor and returned to the bar. “Well, I guess I’d better be getting home before I get busted.” She gave Devon and Keith each a big hug, then turned to Rick. Finally, and briefly meeting his eye, she said, “Rick, thank you so much for your help. It was great meeting you.” She attempted a half-hug, as though touching him repulsed her, and walked away. He stood for a moment, stunned by her cold farewell, then followed after her.

  “That’s all I get?” he asked, one step behind her.

  “That’s all you deserve,” she said, without slowing down.

  Rick reached out and grabbed her shoulder to stop her just before she reached the door. She turned toward him, her eyes fixed on the floor and full of tears. Ta
king a deep breath, Rick said, “Shelby, you have to know how sorry I am. I wish I could make you understand.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I understand perfectly.”

  Rick didn’t know what she meant by that, because it was obvious she didn’t, but he put his arms around her and held her as tightly as he could. He didn’t care what Devon or anyone else thought, but she remained rigid in his embrace, until he finally released her and she left. As he watched her walk away, sorrow and pain engulfed him, he could feel his heart breaking into pieces, and he knew he would never be the same.

  ~

  Unlocking the door to his hotel room, Rick walked in and felt something slide underfoot. He reached for the wall, turned on the light, and saw an envelope on the floor. Upon picking it up and opening it, he saw the letter was from Shelby. He wondered if she left it before he saw her at the club, or on her way home. He didn’t read it right away, but walked around the room, tapping the envelope on the furniture as he went. The impulse to throw the letter away, unread, came and went, but Rick couldn’t bring himself to read its contents. He hurt so much already, and he was sure whatever it said would do nothing but increase his pain.

  He walked the letter out to the veranda, just down the hall from his room, and once seated, lit a cigarette. Rick saw how his actions affected Shelby, he wasn’t sure he could stand to see it spelled out, his transgression detailed. When he asked the guys if she’d given them any more information or clues to explain her state, they had no answers to lessen his guilt. Finally, he breathed deeply, and by the light of the moon, read:

  Dear Rick,

  First, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. It has been a privilege to work with you and be taught by you. There is no way I can ever repay you.

  Second, I know I let my feelings for you get out of control and I know you think it’s just a schoolgirl crush, and that’s probably how it started, but it turned into so much more than that, for me anyway.

  At first, I’ll admit, I was in awe of you. The way you treated me, like I was important to you and how what I said really mattered, well, I thought you were amazing. Here I thought you were opening up to me and showing me the real you – not the persona you give to the public and your fans, but you were just pulling me in the whole time, while I thought we were connecting on such a deep level.

  You completely fooled me, and I should have known better. The day you lied to my parents was the first sign, but I ignored it. When you were drunk, and wanted me to sleep with you? That was the next sign. Stupid me.

  You might as well have fucked me so you could have that notch on your belt. That would have been less hurtful. But to you, I was just another little groupie throwing herself at you. The way you just left me there? Like I didn’t even matter? Like everything that led up to that moment was just bullshit, and my feelings meant nothing. That hurt the most.

  I meant what I said that day, how I wished I could be your girlfriend. You said if I were older, I would be. Why would you play with my head like that? I really thought you felt the same way when I kissed you. When you kissed me back, I thought that meant you loved me too, but that was just you finally showing who you really are.

  I trusted you and you took advantage. Is that the way the big boys play? Make them feel like they count, and then use them as your plaything? You’re not growing up, you’re just finding a new game to keep yourself from getting bored.

  Anyway, thanks,

  Shelby

  Rick folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. He rose from his chair, walked to the railing of the veranda, leaned over the edge, and threw up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Spring 1980

  As the stage lights went down, the thunder emanating from the arena grew to a wall-shaking level. The sold out crowd screamed and stomped for more. Rick liked this part of the show – the fake farewell, the fans begging them to come back on stage for just a few more songs. Encore! Encore! They had just enough time for a drink and a quick smoke before going back on stage to appease the roaring crowd.

  It was their twenty-eighth sold out show on the tour, and their album, Lord of the Sunrise had climbed to number eight on the charts. The single, Don’t Ask Me to Stay, made it to number three. They always saved it for the last song of the night, and by the end of the show, the fans chanted the title, begging Smoke n’ Mirrors to answer their call.

  As they stepped back onto the stage, the thunder grew louder. Keith sat back at the drums, Devon took his spot between the piano and synthesizer, while Randy and Rick strapped their guitars on again. They waited for the crowd to quiet down, and then Keith hit the drums, signaling the start of the song. Devon began to croon Heartbreak on the Bayou in his salty, southern style, while Randy and Rick sang harmony on the chorus. The crowd, temporarily appeased, loudly sang along, Devon’s voice barely audible above them.

  The final song was Rick’s to begin and to sing. As he plucked the first four notes of the song on his bass, the crowd cheered wildly, but respectfully hushed to hear him cry out the first verse that would begin Don’t Ask Me to Stay. The song always made Rick sad, and though born from Randy’s remorse at leaving Morgan, it made Rick think of Shelby. He poured his emotions into every word, and the fans loved it.

  When it was over, they walked off stage bowing and waving in thanks. The crowd quieted, instinctively knowing that Smoke n’ Mirrors had no more to give. Tonight, they would not linger after the show – they were finally going home. The bus trip would take four hours, and it would nearly be light out when they arrived, but they could at last sleep in their own beds.

  Less than a year had passed since they had watched Erin take Kostas’s hand and ask the priest to marry them. They came back to the States and went right to work on Lord of the Sunrise, and before it even hit the stores, they embarked on the tour that would push it up the charts. Rick started to feel burnt out long before the end, and the strain of the long days and late nights was showing on everyone. But what lie ahead would be no picnic either. They would have a short break and would have to begin working on their next album. Their contract with the studio demanded it. They already had about six songs for the album and the beginnings of several more, having had too many for Lord of the Sunrise. They considered releasing it as a double album, but it would only count as one against their contract, so they saved the remaining songs for the follow-up.

  Devon timed the end of the tour to coincide with the expected due date of his first child. He and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Julia, married not long after their return from Greece. He came home to the news that she was pregnant, and Devon was anxious to become a father. Rick was happy for him, and glad that at least one of them could settle down and find something permanent to hold onto. Rick, on the other hand, returned to his habit of finding a new girl after almost every show, preferring to continue with no emotional ties, but he was the only one. Keith had a girlfriend he’d been seeing for about six months, and even Randy shunned the promiscuous lifestyle he’d perfected. He corresponded with Morgan regularly and she planned to visit after the tour.

  When they left the venue and Rick settled himself at the back of the bus, he closed his eyes, drifted to sleep, and dreamed, as he often did, of Paros. Always confusing and muddled, he searched the scenarios for hidden meanings he could never find. This time, he dreamed he took the ferry and upon reaching the island, could not find his way off the boat. As the passengers got off, and new ones got on, Rick frantically ran around looking for stairs that would take him to the exit. When he couldn’t find a way off, he decided he would jump, but as he looked over the railing to the water below, he found he was several hundred feet up. The drop would kill him. Erin stood on the dock, angry he wouldn’t get off the ship. He called to her, trying to explain, but she couldn’t hear him.

  Next, he dreamt he was lying on the sidewalk by the chapel under the rocks. A sea of screaming fans replaced the water, all wanting him to play Don’t Ask Me to Stay. His bass was
on his lap, but his hands and fingers were too fat to isolate the strings. Each time he tried, the guitar made a terrible screech, and the sea of fans began booing. Instead, he tried to sing the lyrics, but he could only sing in a whisper, and the sea booed louder. Beside him, Devon’s focus was putting on his flippers, and when Rick asked him to help start the song, Devon shook his head and said, “My feet won’t stop growing!”

  It was just before dawn when the bus dropped them off, and Rick, still groggy and dazed from his dreams, fumbled for his car keys which found their way to the bottom of his bag. Finding them, he opened the car, threw his bag in the back, climbed in, and started the engine. He pulled his Mustang out of the parking garage and headed toward the freeway that would take him home. It was a half-hour drive, and he passed the time trying to piece together his dreams from the bus. He hoped he might remember glimpsing Shelby. She almost never appeared in his dreams. Sometimes, he had the feeling she had been there, but he couldn’t remember anything specific.

  Rick took the exit leading to his home in the mountains outside Boulder, Colorado, and after a few miles, turned onto the isolated road snaking up the hill. The light snow covering the ground grew deeper as he climbed, and he made a mental note to get the studded tires mounted. He thought about his dream of sitting on the sidewalk, his fingers too fat and swollen to play – what did it mean? Why had Devon been so concerned about his big feet and the stupid flipper that wouldn’t fit? And, he wondered why he couldn’t find his way off the ferry. He knew exactly how to find the stairs leading to the gangplank, but in his dream, all the stairs led up. He was a stranded passenger, not allowed to disembark and join the revelry – he could only stare wistfully from the deck.

  In his mind, the dream changed to a new one, one of him begging Erin not to tell their father he was dead. The dream startled him so badly, he woke just in time to see his car careening toward a steep cliff falling away from the road. Rick slammed on the breaks and jerked the wheel, but it was too late. He had the sensation of falling, and he could hear glass breaking and metal ripping. He wished he’d jumped off the boat when he had the chance.