Circles Of Fear

by Brian Cain

CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jason was preparing for the upcoming total commitment to working with the band. He was determined “Forever”, the new album, would be heard throughout the world, inside he had no idea why. It was for Malinda, he was sure. As he sang her songs he felt she was beside him. He played his acoustic guitar at home singing the songs to Tammy and there Malinda was, every time he sang them. He felt he possessed, her soul within him; the mourning of her loss was at least bearable; he had found her again.

  The day before leaving for rehearsal in Sydney, Jason had arranged everything ready for the Australian tour. Mary would accompany Tammy and a travelling tutor had been employed to continue Tammy’s schoolwork. Jason was getting accustomed to his improved financial position; he considered that he could not have peace of mind for Tammy without his sudden wealth, giving him the ability to stay close to her and still push Malinda’s lingering presence in his songs. Jason told his father his plans only the Tuesday evening before he left for the Sydney rehearsals, before the tour. Jason’s father was upset with his intentions and pleaded with him to give up his music and join him in the family business.

  “Jason we have been through this before! I’m not as well as I used to be and I thought that you would have settled down now with your financial position as it is. We agreed a while back that you would get out of music when you could and stop living inside the circle you insist on tormenting me with.”

  “I never said that, dad. I said I would think about it, but a lot has happened in such a short space of time. I’m doing this for a lot of people, not just me, or you. Can’t you just be proud of me as I am?”

  “How much longer is all this going to take?”

  “Forever, I suppose, if it all works out with Tammy on tour with me.”

  “Jason I can’t wait forever, son. It’s my heart. The doctor has warned me about my workload. I really need your help! Please Jason.”

  “I’ll see you as much as I can dad, that’s all I can do at the moment. With this Australian and world tour I’ll be away for about three months. Songs are pouring out of me at present but in a year’s time that may not be the case. I’ve worked all my life for this. I wish this had happened five years ago, then it would be over now.”

  “You were offered this a few years ago, Jason, but you turned it down. You remember? Stallion records wanted your songs and band, but no, you were too damned selfish to let anyone else share your life. Malinda and Tammy are the only ones who have ever got inside your circle. As much as I need you, Jason, you still won’t come outside that bloody circle will you?”

  Jason’s father left the house slamming the door behind him, his Rolls Royce squealing its tyres as it left the garage. Jason watched through the window as his father drove away. He sighed; it was the first time he had really felt as if his father really needed him.

  As he left for Sydney the next morning with his daughter and her staff beside him he peered out of the plane window at the Adelaide City skyline and realised his father really was alone. He now seriously considered life outside the circle.

  The band churned through its Australian tour and things just kept getting bigger. The new CD “Forever” went straight to number one in Australia. Touring with Tammy in tow was difficult, but worked out. In Jason’s eyes the world tour was definitely on. He wanted to tell the whole world about Malinda, then home to dad.

  It was the evening of the final show in Australia at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre. As the band was busy with a sound check on that Sunday afternoon, Jason’s father arrived at Ramrod’s office in Sydney with Watson in tow. He confronted Steven Brooks.

  “I made it quite clear, Brooks, what I required! This whole thing has backfired and I’m holding you responsible. My son tells me he will be busy with his band forever. Exactly what I was trying to avoid! You’re fired Brooks.”

  “Mr Brinkly, I told you when I first saw your son that this may very well happen; there’s nothing we can do about it. I’ll pack my things and leave. It won’t change your son; he has a god-given talent. Rhythm and blues fans have waited a long time for their hero and they won’t let him go now.” Brooks stood up from behind his desk and moved towards the door.

  “Someone will have to tell Jason why I have gone. I will not have you tell him any lies. Jason is one of my dearest friends; he touches everyone he comes into contact with, especially his audiences. You may get him from me, but you won’t get him from them.”

  Bob Brinkly’s face went red. He stood and grabbed Brooks by the collar, shouting into his face.

  “You can do it! Get me my son! I’ll give you anything! Money, anything you want, just get my… Bob Brinkly began to choke. Watson and Brooks supported him as they placed him back into the chair he had risen from. His skin felt cold and he complained of chest pains. His voice slurred as he lost consciousness. Brooks and Watson laid him on the floor, supporting his head with their jackets and Brooks rang an ambulance.

  Bob Brinkly’s pulse faded to nothing as the paramedics worked frantically to bring back his fading heart and he was pronounced dead on arrival at a Sydney hospital. As the doctor made his exit from the waiting room after telling Watson and Brooks, they looked at each other with the nervous strain embedded in their faces.

  “My god, who is going to tell Jason all this?” asked Watson.

  “He'll be in Adelaide tomorrow afternoon. We better make sure he’s home before we tell him. I think we had better both do it. I don’t want any lies, he’s been deceived enough. I hope this doesn’t kill him,” said Brooks.

  “Bob’s heart had been bad for sometime and he left strict instructions as to what he wanted done if anything happened. He has left everything to Jason. Such a big responsibility for someone who has gained so much but lost everything. There is a letter I have to give Jason, I have instructions if such a thing should happen. We must pick it up on the way to see him, as it’s from Bob,” said Watson.

  Jason arrived home late Monday morning. The tour had been a great success and Jason had made up his mind to quit the band after the world tour and join his father, so he waited anxiously for him to arrive home to give him the news. Tammy was out visiting school friends with Mary, when Jason answered the door at three that afternoon. He was surprised to find Watson and Brooks at the door. They smiled awkwardly and Jason let them in where they settled in the lounge.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure?” asked Jason, as he walked behind the bar. “What are you guys drinking? The tour was unreal, I’m...”

  Brooks stood up and interrupted. “Jason, please sit down, we have some terrible news for you.” Jason’s smile disappeared from his face and was replaced by a blank stare as he sat in front of them.

  “What is it that it’s so important for you to come all this way?” asked Jason. Brooks glanced at Watson then spoke.

  “Jason, yesterday afternoon your father died of a heart attack in my office in Sydney. We are so terribly sorry. ”

  Jason’s face lost its colour and he brushed back his long hair with the palms of his hands and held the top of his head.

  “No! I need to tell him something! This can’t be! Are you sure?” said Jason.

  Brooks sat next to Jason. “Jason your father loved and wanted you so much he did some things that you should know. Jason, your father owns Ramrod records. He wanted you so much that he brought my attention to you, wanting me to make you rich so you could retire and be with him. It all back fired Jason, you are what you are. If I had seen you play before all that, you would still be where you are.”

  “Your father was very proud of you Jason. He died a proud and fulfilled man. He has been very sick the past couple of months and he wrote this when the doctor warned him time was near, a few weeks ago. He asked that you be given it if anything happened,” added Watson. Jason took the envelope, removed the letter and started to read.

  To my only son Jason,

  I am writing this because I have never been able to tell you how much I loved you. It was the sa
me with your mother. I was deprived of you because of my very nature. If I could live again, I would want to be able to tell you that I love you more than anything. I have been so proud of you Jason. Even though you were not by my side in life, you are still the best son a father could wish for. I ask you again, son, please don’t let what I have built fade to nothing. I achieved what I did for you and your mother’s security and well being. I never dreamed it would keep us apart. We tried really hard of late, but time has caught up with us now.

  I know exactly how you felt when you lost Malinda. I felt the same when we lost your mother, but I’m with her now. Life was good to me, being blessed with you and your mother, now it’s your turn to battle on regardless. I know that this will be a terrible time for you son, I lost a wife and father too.

  You have so much of your mother in you. We never told you this, but your mother was a singer and dancer when I met her, with a very promising career. There is an old seventy-eight record of hers in my office safe. I had it put on tape and listened to it constantly when she had gone. When I came along she stopped all that for me and we had you. We kept your mother’s background a secret, thinking it may influence you even more than you already were towards music, wanting to give you a place with the family company instead. Unfortunately you have some of me in you as well; that’s where you get your stubborn determination to succeed. We are what we are son. Lay me next to your mother; I’m with her now forever. Good luck for you are someone far beyond my understanding and your birth I feel has far more meaning than my death.

  Until we meet again.

  Your loving father,

  Robert Jason Brinkly

  Jason read the letter twice. They all sat in silence as Jason closed the letter and put it back in its envelope, then placed it gently on the table.

  “I have to pick up Tammy from her friend’s. Please excuse me, I won’t be long,” said Jason rising from his seat.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to pick them up for you Jason?” asked Brooks.

  “I always pick her up. I may believe what I have just gone through when I return but I must pick her up; it’s very important. Those whom forget the past, are doomed to repeat it in the future.”

  Brooks and Watson waited anxiously for Jason to return, telling Mary what had happened while he was gone. Mary burst into tears, but forced herself to stop when Jason returned with Tammy. Mary took Tammy to her room and Jason continued with Brooks and Watson.

  “Watson, please arrange for my father’s body to be returned to Adelaide immediately and let me know when, tomorrow if possible. Steven, please put the band on hold until I tell you what to do. I’ll have to have a think and talk to the rest of the band.”

  Watson spoke nervously. “Jason, I know that this is hard for you. Your father has left everything to you. He was a very busy man and a lot of people around the world will want decisions, decisions only you can make now you’re in your father’s place. I thought I’d just let you know that, so you could keep it in mind.”

  “I’ll look into everything after the funeral. I must keep going for everyone’s sake I suppose. My father often said. “There are two sure things in life; you will pay tax and you will die.” Why I should think of that now, I don’t know.”

  Watson and Brooks left, feeling obliged to carry out Jason’s requests as soon as they could. When they had gone, Jason picked up his father’s letter from the table, climbed the stairs to his room and closed the door behind him. Mary turned up Tammy’s television so she couldn’t hear his cries.

  The funeral was a morbid affair for Jason. The cemetery where he laid his father next to his mother was where Malinda and Savanna lay as well.

  The service was attended by people Jason had never seen before, some from different parts of the world. He was confronted by well wishers whom he knew nothing of. Jason struggled through the wake held at his father’s city offices. Watson helped as much as he could, staying by his side, warding off pushy people who wanted to get close to the new head of his inherited empire. Jason remained quiet the entire time. He worried within himself how he would tell Tammy that granddad had gone away and wouldn’t be back. Vic, Brad and Tom had attended, but left early, unable to cope with the deep sorrow they felt for their dear friend.

  Jason began to shake; the strain was starting to show up. He walked to the bar in the corner of the conference room and poured himself a Scotch whisky. He had never drunk before, but was willing to try anything to keep himself together and go on. He swallowed it straight down and he coughed heavily and his eyes watered as the whisky burnt his mouth and bit at the back of his throat. The alcohol entered his blood stream in a few short minutes. He threw down another and another, his shocked system getting temporary relief from its newly discovered painkiller. Jason became disorientated and wandered down the office stairs from the top floor where his father’s office was and walked along the lonely city streets finally finding a small hotel bar in one of the busy main thoroughfares.

  It was now seven on a Saturday evening and the bar was quiet. The two young barmaids whispered to each other as they recognised Jason straight away and couldn’t believe their luck. Jason Brinkly of “Full On” in their bar! As much as they tried, Jason said nothing apart from ordering more drinks. By ten he was thrown from the bar into the street by a burly doorman for ordering drinks and not paying for them. He had plenty of cash, but was too much of a mess to work out what was going on. He sat up against the wall on the footpath and passed out. A passing car suddenly stopped, reversing back along side Jason next to the kerb.

  “You’re right it’s him, Jason Brinkly! He may have a lot of cash on him. Drag him in here and let’s find out,” said the young passenger. The two occupants climbed from their car and lifted Jason from the footpath into the back seat. The young passenger stayed in the rear of the car with Jason as the driver made a hasty exit.

  “He’s full on pissed,” said the young passenger. “He can’t even talk.” He searched Jason’s pockets as the driver cruised on. “His wallet is chock-a-block with cash, must be a few hundred bucks here. Let’s dump him on the edge of town.”

  After a fifteen minute drive the car stopped at a deserted oval on the edge of the city, at the base of the hills. The door opened and Jason groaned as he hit the cold grass and he heard the car roar off. Jason stood up, swaying from side to side and walked aimlessly around the surrounding streets. It started to rain. Jason looked up as the cold rain soaked his hair and drenched his clothes. He began to shiver. He had wandered into a spacious garden and seeking sanctuary from the rain behind two immense wooden doors in front of him, he pushed on them hard, falling through and onto a cold stone floor inside. He dragged himself along what appeared to be a corridor. Fumbling in the dark, his hand caught the base of a bench and he pulled himself up onto it, curled up and fell asleep.