Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star)

by J. P. Grider

“Sure.” It was her idea, anyway. She’d suggested it earlier that day.

  “I bet you were already up there, though?” I asked as we strolled hand in hand toward the boardwalk.

  “No. Not really. I went for a jog on the boards earlier, but since then I’ve been napping.”

  “Napping? Seriously? You’re only thirty-two.”

  “Hey, you’re not allowed to judge me.” She teased.

  “I’m sorry…I didn’t peg you for a napper, that’s all.”

  Mara tittered. “I’m not a napper. I just took a nap. One nap, that’s all.”

  I laughed at our playful bickering. “Okay, I’ll stop.”

  “How’d it go today? You sounded upbeat when you called.” Mara inquired, changing the subject.

  “Oh…I was. It was incredible.” I unclasped her hand to put my arms around her. I squeezed her tightly in my arms, lifted her up off the ground and spun her around. I couldn’t help myself. "I felt incredible.”

  “Oh my.” Mara chuckled as I brought her back down.

  After I had Mara safely back on the ground, I weaved my fingers through her hand again. “I have you to thank, you know. Truly, thank you, Mara.” Mara tried to undermine her importance to my return to life by shrugging. As if it were no big deal. But it was. It was a huge deal. “No. Really. I owe you everything Mara, I really do. Until you came along, my days were dark. Seriously, I thought the sun would never rise again, but you brought it back for me. You are my sun, Mara. For that. I will always. Be grateful.”

  Mara’s lips quirked, embarrassed by my appreciation. “Tell me about practice.”

  I did talk about it, because I was excited to. “It was a little slow at first. I think the guys were a little uncomfortable around me. I guess they thought maybe I was frail or something. But, after a short while, we fell right back into place.” Mara and I continued to meander along the boardwalk. “It was cool. I enjoyed playing my guitar again. We’re meeting again tomorrow.” I paused seeing a familiar boardwalk stand. “Mara?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Want a Polish Water Ice?”

  “A what?”

  “A Polish Water Ice. C’mon.” Right ahead of us was the water ice stand. “It’s a lot like Italian Ice, only creamier…. What flavor would you like?”

  Mara searched the menu. “How about you pick?”

  “Okay.” I looked at the water ice attendant. “One watermelon, one Cotton Candy.”

  “Cotton Candy?” Mara wondered. “Is that for you…or for me?”

  “For you. You seem like you’d appreciate sweet things, Sweet Thing.” I saw Mara’s face turn the color of my watermelon water ice. “Are you blushing?”

  Turning an even rosier color she whispered, “you always make me blush.”

  I forced myself to play it lightly. “Oh, big personal trainer like you, surely you don’t embarrass easily?” But I knew she did. The littlest comments reddened her skin.

  She shrugged as she licked at her ice. “The cotton candy ice is really good. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” We strolled quietly hand in hand for a few more minutes, before I had an idea. “Would you like to put your feet in the sand?”

  We kicked off our shoes and rolled up our jeans. “Race ya.” Mara challenged and then took off for the water. Fortunately for me, I’ve been picking up the pace during my runs so, even though she took an unfair headstart, I’d caught up with her and hit the surf before she did.

  “Ha.” I pronounced, then exhaustingly bent over, putting my hands to my thighs to catch my breath. Mara sauntered toward me, breathing as softly and evenly as if she had taken a leisurely stroll. “Damn, Mara. Why aren’t you gasping for air…like I am?”

  “Well,” she said coyly, “I didn’t ignorantly take off, mightily, without easing into my run.”

  “Oh. And you…eased?”

  Mara laughed again. “Well, I didn’t give it my all.”

  “Oh, so now you’re saying that you let me win?”

  “I didn’t say that, but…” She trailed off.

  “Okay smarty-pants, see if I can’t catch you this time. And you better give it your all.”

  “Yeah right.” Only this time Mara flew. We zigzagged across the sand until I cornered her between the water and the pier.

  “Nowhere to run now, sweetie.” As she took off to her right, I grabbed her and we both fell, landing right in the water. The waves crashed over us as we lay staring into each other’s eyes, sparking a new dimension to our friendship. Slowly, I lowered my lips to her mouth. And within moments, we were kissing with an urgency that only two love-starved souls could fathom.

  As romantic as making out on the ocean’s edge seems, it was more amusing than amorous. In between tender kisses, we had to spit out salt water in order not to drown ourselves. Maybe my suction was off, but we kissed, spit, laughed, and repeated. All in all, a fun evening. A perfect evening.

  I was sad to say good-bye.

  Chapter Thirteen

  My days went by quickly enough; jamming sessions began early in the morning and ended close to nine at night. But, my evenings dragged. I looked forward to my nightly phone calls to Mara, but she usually got tired two hours into the conversation and I’d end up spending sleepless hours alone. With my thoughts.

  The reunion tour was lingering in my mind. The creative aspects of writing songs, and uncovering new musical talents within me, were therapeutic in my mental recovery, but the trepidation that manifested as queasiness, in the pit of my stomach, every time I thought about performing on stage and re-entering the world of celebrity, were disquieting.

  Then there was the whole blonde-stalker-thing. I couldn’t bring myself to admit it out loud, but that blonde wasn’t just any blonde. That blonde was my late-wife. That blonde was Crystal. Or at the very least, Crystal’s ghost, because I was the one who had confirmed her body at the morgue. I knew she was dead. So why was I seeing her, in the trees, in my yard? It was creepy. She was watching me. But why now? After all this time, why would Crystal pick now to come back into my life? Was I so crazy that I would conjure her up in my mind? Maybe the guilt that suffused me was presenting itself as her ghost. Since coming back to Somers’ Point, remorse was always at the forefront of my emotions. I couldn’t even bring myself to approach the stairs to the second floor, where we slept. The rec room on the main floor had become my make-shift bedroom, while the guys made a home on the second floor, avoiding the master bedroom, at my request.

  My continued apprehension about everything had led me to one conclusion, however. I would sell my Somers’ Point house. I was already contemplating finding a new location to rehearse; somewhere central to all of our residences, so that Ronnie, Matty and Johnny didn’t have to uproot themselves during the week. Ronnie and Johnny lived near my dad in Rumson and Matty lived more up north in Glen Ridge. It made sense all the way around.

  Since I was having another sleepless night, I decided to leave for Sparta before the early morning. All the way home, I had this eerie feeling that a new yellow Camaro was following me. It would appear in my rearview mirror every several miles or so. I was sure I wouldn’t be the only one traveling from the shorelines to North Jersey, but the blonde woman driving the Camaro was the perfect likeness to Crystal. A replica to the woman who stood in my trees. It couldn’t have been coincidence, because the car was still hovering behind me as I entered Sparta. After my turn off into Lake Mohawk, the Camaro disappeared, but I had the chilling sense that I’d see it again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mara’s Letter to Brad

  August 9, 2010

  I’m writing to you this morning out of obligation. The melancholy my heart is suffering is extreme. The highlight of my days had always been curling up on the couch with a cup of tea and my journal of letters to you; like when we were married for that blissful, but very, short year. We’d shut the world out at night and drink our tea as we nuzzled close to each other. I was so content being married to you.

&nb
sp; But now, it seems there is someone else who has captured my heart. Bradley, I think I am falling in love with Tagg. When I’m near him, it is so hard to focus, because all I’m thinking about is being wrapped in his arms. It may not be such a great situation, though. I hardly think Tagg is ready for a relationship, he hasn’t even dated anyone since his wife died. I haven’t dated anyone either, so I only see it ending badly; rebound relationships usually never work.

  Anyway, my dear, I’m sorry to burden you with this dilemma. It’s not like you can read what I’m writing or know what I’m thinking, but the whole process of keeping this journal is for me, essentially. It allows me to believe you are still a big part of my life. That’s why I feel bad to be forcing myself to write to you. It shouldn’t be that way. I’m confused, Brad. And, I’m sad. I don’t want you to fade from my memory. I don’t want to stop loving you. It makes me faint-hearted to wonder if falling in love with someone else could cause a lessening in my love for you.

  I can’t finish writing now, Brad. I need to go cry.

  ***

  In the morning, I drove to Mara’s to surprise her. She was on her porch, engrossed in a book and hadn’t heard my car approach the driveway. When she did finally see me, I caught a glimpse of her wiping her eyes, like she was crying. On the white wicker table next to her, I noticed her journal to Brad. She didn’t say anything about it, so neither did I.

  After dabbing another tear from her eye, she stood up to hug me. “Tagg… you’re early. I wasn’t expecting you until tonight.”

  “I hope I’m not intruding; I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  “Of course not, it’s a welcome surprise.” We peered into each other’s eyes as I left my hands on her lower back, just below her waist. Her hands remained around my neck until she moved them to my shoulders as she pried herself away. “I’m glad you came, early, Tagg. I did miss you.” Her actions didn’t seem to match her words.

  “It’s okay if you want me to leave, Mara. We can see each other later if you’d like.”

  “No, Tagg. Really. Stay. How about some coffee?”

  Her offer seemed genuine, so I told her I’d love some, and followed her into the house. “So, Mara,” I was trying to start some kind of conversation. “I made a decision.”

  “Oh? What kind of decision?”

  “The decision to sell my shore house.”

  Mara simply nodded. “That makes sense.”

  “It does?”

  “You don’t use it and it brings back bad memories. I’m surprised you’ve kept it this long.”

  Leave it to Mara to make things sound so easy. “I guess you would understand, wouldn’t you?

  “When are you putting it on the market?”

  “As soon as I get the place cleaned up. You saw it. It looks haunted. Straight out of a movie set.”

  “Did you do anything with it while you were there this week?”

  “No. We were too busy learning some new songs I wrote. We’ve almost got enough for a new album. It seems we all had a lot to say over the last years. Besides, Auggie’s been pressuring us about getting one out.”

  “He sure does pressure you, doesn’t he?”

  “Mmm. Always has. It’s not a great thing, though. Sure, he pushes me to push myself, but sometimes I think I’m living out his life. He wants me to be a mini-him. I don’t know, I just don’t have the passion like he does, but, I’m trying. Anyway, I wrote you a song.”

  “For me? Why?”

  “Why? Did you forget already what I had told you on the boardwalk? I owe you everything.”

  “Thank you Tagg, but you don’t owe me anything. You are the one who has made the progress, not me.”

  “No. You are the one that made it possible.”

  “But you did all the work.”

  “Okay.” I had to stop this before it got out of hand. “Let’s agree to disagree, okay?” I hesitated on my next question, not sure how to phrase it. “Mara…our first concert is on New Year’s Eve, at the new Meadowland’s Arena. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

  “Don’t you have to go with your band?”

  “No. I don’t have to. Besides, I’d rather go with you.”

  “Oh.” She paused briefly. I hoped she wouldn’t rather stay home. “Tagg, can I watch from in front of the stage or do I have to stay wherever you go before you go on?”

  She was sending mixed signals. “Why?”

  “Well,” she shrugged. “I’d like to watch the show. Live. Like when I was fourteen… and fifteen and seventeen… and I believe the last Holland concert I went to was when I was twenty or something like that.”

  “You went to that many Holland concerts?” I hadn’t realized she was such a fan.

  “Almost every tour; whenever you played in New Jersey.”

  “Wow.” I was stunned. She didn’t seem the groupie type. “You were one of the die-hards, hunh?”

  “Yup. Holland and Bon Jovi.”

  “Aah.” All the girls loved Jon. “Yeah, Jon’s still around though. He only got better as he got older.”

  “But so did you. Your music towards the end was starting to really mature. It was awesome.”

  Towards the end. Before my life stood still.

  Still standing on Mara’s porch, I turned unwittingly toward the road. And there it was again. The yellow Camaro. Parked on the side of the road. Leaning against the car’s door was the blonde, staring right at us. I stood from my wicker chair and posed my hands on the porch railing, positioning myself to get a closer look. But just as quickly as I spotted her, she got in the car and took off.

  “Tagg, what is it?” Mara wondered. “What’s the matter?”

  I was frozen. I couldn’t move at all. All I could manage was to mutter the word “Crystal” in a hoarse whisper.

  “Crystal?” Mara’s question was almost as quiet as my statement.

  But I was still deadened. Powerless and incapacitated. I could not have been mistaken. I was just looking into the face of my dead wife. And she was staring back at me.

  “Tagg, is everything alright?” Mara’s hand was on my shoulder, while I was still in a trance. Not unlike the first time Mara witnessed my insanity. Like the Matchbox Twenty song Unwell, sooner or later, Mara would see my illness buried deep inside. I slowly retracted back to the chair. I felt my skin go cold and my body shut down. “Tagg?” Mara was confounded. I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t able to take hold of myself. “You look like you just saw a ghost?”

  My voice was still barely audible, but I did sputter, “I think I just did.”

  “Crystal?”

  “Mmm.”

  Mara got up and went inside. I wanted to go after her, but I couldn’t. I was still numb and unable to move, but somewhere in my mind I was afraid that Mara was mad. Hurt, in some way. Fortunately, for me, she was back out in a flash, handing me a glass of water and a wet washcloth.

  “Tagg, drink the water.”

  I did. Wiping my brow with the cloth, I slowly felt the sensation in my limbs return. “Thanks.” I said, but I don’t even think Mara heard the mumble.

  “What happened Tagg?”

  “You didn’t see that yellow Camaro by the road?”

  “Um. No. Should I have?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. There was this car on the parkway that seemed to be following me. I can’t be sure, but I saw the same Camaro enter the road from the Somers’ Point exit. It remained behind me all the way up to Route 15. I swear it was the same car I just now saw, parked across the street.

  “But, why did you say, ‘Crystal'?

  “The woman driving the car. I think it was…Crystal.”

  “Tagg, maybe she just looked like Crystal.”

  How could I say this without sounding utterly insane? “I’ve been seeing the same woman standing near my house nearly every day this past week.”

  “Are you sure? Couldn’t it be someone that just looks like Crystal?”

  “Maybe. But, Mara, hav
e you ever seen anyone that looks like Crystal? She was tall, thin, blond, flawless skin, blue eyes, perfect cheekbones, full lips, absolutely…”

  “Perfect.” Mara completed my sentence with pinched lips and no emotion.

  “Yes. Her physical appearance was perfect, but, Mara…” I didn’t even know what to say. This wasn’t about how I felt or didn’t feel for Crystal. This was about her reappearing from the dead. “Mara, I know it was Crystal. Well, I don't know for sure, but it’s not a ghost. I saw the car. It was there. Ghosts can’t drive cars.” I didn’t even want to think how ridiculous I had just sounded.

  “Tagg. Um. Are you sure she…died…in that accident? I mean, well…could she be alive?”

  “No. I’m sure she died. I was the one that confirmed that the dead body was her’s.”

  “Oh. Well, then, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  I leaned my head in my hand. “I’m not going to go through this again Mara. I was just returning to normal. Returning to life.” Acid was building in my stomach; I could feel it burning a hole right through. “I can’t do this again.” I cried. “I don’t want to go insane, Mara. I don’t want to go insane again. I just want to be normal. I want my life to be normal.” And still, I cried.

  Mara placed her hand on my knee. “You’re not going insane again, Tagg. There has to be a logical explanation. There has to be.”

  We finished our coffee on the porch and found ourselves in silence for a while. What conversation could actually follow the one we just had? But we couldn’t just sit there. We had already been uncomfortable because I admitted to being mentally crazy. I couldn’t leave her on that note. So, I tried to reclaim some dignity and asked Mara if she’d come to dinner with me tonight at my mother’s. Mom had invited me over the weekend and asked me to have Mara come along. Mara gave me a reluctant yes. I guess that was better than a no.

  Driving down to my mom’s house in Franklin Lakes, I had found out that Mara used to live nearby. “Well, it was near to Franklin Lakes, but it wasn’t affluent. I grew up in Haledon, about ten minutes down the road.”

  “And it didn’t look like this?” I’d motioned to all the huge, beautiful houses around us.