Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star)

by J. P. Grider

  I ignored it. “I’m sure you’re right. However, I’d feel a lot better if you could run the plates and make sure she’s no threat to me. Like if she has a criminal record or something equivalent. I’m not asking for you to reveal her identity, just check her out, please.”

  “Okay, Mr. Holland. Since you’re one of our esteemed residents, I’ll check on it. Just to be safe.” He emphasized the word ‘just.’ to add a tone of condescension. “What is the license plate number?”

  I gave Officer Bradish the plate numbers and Ronnie’s cell. He said he’d call me back within the hour, so I put Ron’s phone in my pocket. In the meantime, I sipped my coffee and began to pick up the trash that had taken over my house. When I went into the living room, I saw bodies scattered every which way on my couches, the floor, even the coffee table.

  “What the fuck?” The sound came out louder than I’d intended it to, but I was appalled. It’s not that I’d have wanted my guests to leave intoxicated, but I was nauseated by the fact that I’d allow a party like this to begin with. It wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore. I was even more dismayed that I’d succumbed to alcohol again. The realization hit me like a guitar smashing over my head. I was drinking away the demons inside of me, instead of facing them. What was I doing?

  Ronnie came in the room. “Don’t you remember you invited all these people to stay the night?”

  “No.”

  One of the woman on the floor sat up, still half-asleep. I’d recognized her from the Victoria Secret television commercials.

  And last night.

  “Tagg, sorry about the mess.” She stumbled getting up off the floor. Someone else must have woken, because I heard a rustle on the floor. The Victoria Secret model placed her hand on my arm and moved closer to me. “I started to clean up last night, but I got so tired, I figured I’d help you in the morning…thanks for being so...kind to me last night.” She leaned forward, gazed at my mouth and pressed her lips to mine. My arms went instinctively around her waist as I’d remembered doing something similar with her last night. Fuck Me!

  At the same time the model kissed me, I heard a shutter. Several shutters, actually. We both turned to see a man holding a camera in front of his face.

  “What the Hell? Gimme the friggin' camera, asshole.” I jumped over the couch to tackle the guy to the floor. I was not going to be fodder for the Tabloids again.

  “Sorry Tagg.” The guy said as he sped out the front door, “Gotta do my job.”

  I ran after him in my bare feet all the way down the driveway, reaching him at the end of it. I struggled to grab his leg as he bounded over the iron fence, but all I got hold of was his damn shoe before watching him take off in his Jeep parked in the grass right outside the gate.

  “Fuck.” I threw the shoe over the fence, lowered myself to the ground and sat against a tree, defeated. The past came rushing back to me in droves. The parties, the women, the drinking, the drugs. I had a brief moment when all was calm – my marriage to Crystal. Though it wasn’t the head over heels marriage some wait for, it was a bit of normalcy amidst a very abnormal life. Then I went and ruined the ordinary. Old demons had a way of following a person and mine certainly had, then and now.

  About five minutes into my pity party, Ronnie’s cell phone rang. I reached into my pocket to retrieve it and found Officer Bradish on the other end.

  “Hello Mr. Holland. I’m not sure how to tell you this, but those plates you gave me?” Bradish paused, as if I needed dramatic effect, with all the drama in my already crazy life. “They’re registered to…” another annoying pause. “Crystal Cummings-Holland.”

  Now it was my turn to pause. “What?” I asked after absorbing what he’d just divulged.

  “Yup. They’ve been registered in her name for the past seven years.”

  “But, I don’t understand.”

  “It appears these plates were registered the day after her accident.”

  “The day after?”

  “Right. I don’t understand it either, but I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Well, for starters, what address is it registered to?”

  “Yours…Sir.”

  “Mine?” I was dumbfounded.

  “If you need anything, you know where to find me.” Officer Bradish hung up.

  I remained seated on the ground…with my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands, immersed in thought. I didn’t even hear Ronnie calling me. By the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, he must have been summoning me for quite a while.

  “Tagg, what’re you doing out here? Genelle said you went running after some paparazzi that got in the house?”

  “Genelle?” Who the fuck was that?

  “Yeah, Genelle, the model you hooked up with last night?”

  “Fuck me.” I muttered under my breath and put a hand to my brow, disgusted with myself. Would I ever change? Could I ever change? Could this day get any worse?

  “Anyway.” Ronnie continued. “She said some guy shot a picture of her kissing you and you tore off after him?”

  “Yeah. He got away though. Hey Ron?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think Crystal could be alive.”

  “Tagg, are you still high?”

  “High? I haven’t touched the stuff in ages…” I caught the sly expression on Ronnie’s face. “I did?”

  “Yeah, you did. You did a few lines with Genelle last night.”

  “Shit. Can this day get any worse?” I uttered out loud, this time.

  “Get up, Man. C’mon. Let’s get you a cup of coffee. Everyone’s inside cleaning up.”

  “You mean they didn’t leave it for the maid?” My sarcasm was high. I didn’t have a maid.

  “Hey, we’re not kids anymore. We clean up after ourselves, now.” Ronnie gave a quirked smile. “Some of us are full grown parents, you know. Not me, of course, but some of us.”

  As soon as I was back in the house, Genelle was instantaneously at my side. I attempted to back away from her, but she stopped me. “Tagg, I’m sorry about the kiss. I thought after last night, you were okay with it. I thought…”

  I interrupted her apology before she could say any more. I directed her into the dining room, which apparently went unscathed last night. “What did we do last night? I’m sorry, but I don’t actually remember.”

  Genelle rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed, but cooperative anyway. “We did some coke and then we…made out, that’s all. We started to undress each other, but then you fell asleep. I can’t believe you don’t remember.”

  “I’m sorry about that. But, listen, there can’t be anything between us. I’m…kind of involved already.”

  “You are? With who?”

  “Someone you don’t know. It’s not a thing…yet, but…my heart is already involved. I’m sorry if I led you on. It had to be the combination of the coke and the alcohol. I really am sorry, Genelle.”

  “Fine.” She gathered her stuff and then walked out, slamming the door behind her.

  In the kitchen, I found Matt and Johnny sitting at the island. Ronnie was at the counter when he handed me a cup of coffee. “Thanks.”

  “What happened in there?” Matt asked.

  "Just more trouble that I managed to get myself into. I know that picture is going to be hitting the newsstand, then all my hopes for a relationship with…oh, never mind.”

  Matt put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t fret, my man. You’re an old man now. It’ll probably be middle page news. I wouldn’t worry about it. Besides, the public always forgives you. You’re America’s Sweetheart…male version.”

  “Yeah, right.” I glanced around the house and couldn’t believe it. “Wow. You guys cleaned up fast. How’d you do that?”

  Ronnie answered first. “Easy. I told you. We’re not kids anymore, besides, these guys,” Ronnie hooked his thumb over his shoulder to Matt and Johnny. “want to get home to their families.”

  “Yeah, Tagg, we’ll be back Tuesday. Remember, we have that
press conference Tuesday afternoon.” Matt felt it necessary to remind me.

  “Yeah. Got it. Thanks.”

  Ronnie came up behind me. “We’re gonna get outta here, you’ll be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be great.” I said with no infliction at all and handed Ronnie back his phone. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

  “No problem.” Ronnie headed out the door, “Daddy dearest will make everything better.”

  “What?” I ran to the front door and there he was, Augustus Holland, pulling up in his 1965 Shelby 427 Cobra Roadster. Like I said. Could my day get any worse?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Dad. What are you doing here?”

  “Well you don’t have a phone anymore. How am I supposed to get in touch with you?”

  My passive/aggressive response to my father was to always roll my eyes. It was easier than giving him an answer he didn’t like.

  “Taggart. Where’s your phone?”

  “Gone. Why you here Dad?”

  “I have to have a reason to visit my son?” Auggie gave me the once over. “So, back to your old ways I see?”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?” How did he do it? Every time I see my Dad for more than thirty seconds, he manages to get under my skin.

  “You look like you had quite a night, that’s all I’m implying, Taggart. No need to get huffy with me. You’re my son, not my daughter."

  Ooh, he was incorrigible. “It was nothing, Dad.”

  But Auggie saw through me like he always did. He gave me his usual knowing look. The one that says ‘Ain’t nothin’ getting’ by me, asshole.’ “Why are you upset ‘cause you partied? It’s okay to party, Taggart. No one’s gonna arrest you for having a good time. You’re a big boy now.” So very condescending.

  “Dad, it’s got more to do with just having a good time.” I put my head in my hands again. I can’t believe I was here again, stuck in between wanting to lead a life full of significance, and actually doing it. What would it take to turn me around? I’ve killed my wife. I’ve killed my little boy. I’ve ruined my band. And, even though right now I blame my mother for ruining my relationship with Mara, somehow, it was probably me who caused its demise. I don’t know how to live life unless I’m messing it up. I grew up getting everything handed to me. I had assistants to plan my days. A touring schedule to plan my nights, but all I ever wanted was a normal life. A life that blended in with all the other lives out there. I no longer wanted to be Tagg Holland. I just wanted to be Tagg.

  “Taggart. Wake up.”

  Dad so rudely interrupted my introspection. “What? What do you want, Dad? Why the fuck are you here? You never did tell me.”

  “What’s your problem Taggart? You’re fuckin’ up again; always feeling sorry for yourself. You get close to something, then you fuck it up. You did it with Crystal, you did it with your band, now you’re doing it with that little trainer of yours.”

  That was uncalled for. He knew nothing about Mara or my feelings for her. “What does Mara have to do with anything?” I asked, as I poured myself a bowl of Lucky Charms. All I had so far this morning was a lot of coffee and whatever alcohol that was left over in my system.

  “Well, she has to do with your latest drinking binge, doesn’t she?”

  “One party does not make a binge.”

  “Get off it, Taggart. Ronnie told me you’re on the sauce 24 hours a day, so you’re only kidding yourself, Kid.”

  “Gimme a break, Dad. Will you?” And goddammit, I broke down right in front of him.

  Auggie’s tone got less offensive as he tried in his own way to have a heart. “I know Mara’s behind this recent plunge of yours. You know,” he didn’t even give me a chance to rebut. “You really didn’t give her a chance. She’s wanted so much to explain everything, but you wouldn’t even allow it. You don’t even have a cell phone anymore.”

  My shoulders raised as I consciously breathed air in, trying to allow myself to think about Mara without totally losing it in front of my dad.

  He hardly noticed. “You’re not being fair to her you know, Taggart. What your mother did was pretty shitty, but to ignore Mara, without giving her a chance to defend herself was pretty low as well.” Auggie hesitated, but I stood there pressing my lips together in a straight line so as not to show any emotion. I know I failed immensely. Auggie continued. “Taggart, when your mother went looking for a personal trainer for you, that was her only intention. I remember when she first brought the idea to me. We knew the guys had wanted this reunion tour and you belonged up there with them. Kenya and I really wanted to help make that happen. We knew it would take a while for you to come around, but Kenya figured if you were in shape again, you’d feel good about yourself. Then, maybe you’d want to live again, not just exist in some lonesome world you created for yourself. We both agreed a trainer was the best route, so Kenya went on the ACE website.” My face must have registered bewilderment, because Auggie paused to explain what ACE was. “The American Council on Exercise. She found some trainers in the Sparta area. She told me the other day that when she met with Mara she was just so overtaken with her that they bonded. Kenya explained it as ‘Mara having an empathetic soul.’ So, Kenya told me that she went as far as asking Mara if she would mind spending some extra time with you; that you were in need of a compassionate friend. Mara said she’d see if she had time, but the extra money wasn’t necessary. Your mom told me she saw all the time Mara was actually spending with you, so she figured she’d offer her the money after all. Kenya said you’d walked in at that very moment. Mara would have never taken the check. She told your mother that night that she really cared for you and that you were actually helping her to get through her loss. By the way, we had no idea Mara had lost her husband during 9/11.” Once again, Dad fell silent, but this time he just let it be.

  “Thanks for explaining.” I swallowed back a lump that was forming in my throat as I realized I’d have to swallow a lot more than that to get Mara back. My pride had always stood in the way of my happiness. “Do you want any coffee Dad?”

  His expression was one of resignation. “Alright.”

  The two of us remained wordless for a very long few minutes. I was still trying to absorb what my dad had just revealed. I wanted to believe what he’d said about Mara. I mean why would he lie? And why shouldn’t I believe that Mara was really sincere about her friendship? I’d been so mentally messed up, though, that I found it hard to think straight, and instead of processing events like a normal person, it was easier to dissolve into my insanity.

  “Taggart. Were you listening to me?” My father’s stern tone brought me back to reality.

  I shook my head out of my self-deprecating reverie. “Sorry Dad, no. What did you say?”

  “I said, on another note, have you been recording? We need to get your album out by Spring.”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry. I even hired Kim as my assistant again, to make sure I don’t miss any appointments. She was happy to hear from me.”

  “I’m sure she’s not the only one excited for your return. You have a lot going on these days. I’d like you to stay focused. Maybe the doctor should up your Effexor again.”

  Who died and made Auggie my psychiatrist? Like he would know whether or not my anti-depressant needed adjustment. “I’m good Dad. So, are you staying the night or did you just stop by to see your only son?”

  “I’m staying the night. Unless you don’t want me to?”

  “Nah. I’d like you to stay. I just need to rest my head right now. It feels like it’s going to explode. Wanna go outside? I got a couple lounge chairs out there.”

  Auggie nodded. “Okay. I’ll be out in a bit, I’m just gonna make a few phone calls. Oh. And Tagg. Give your mother a break and call her. She only had your best intentions at heart. You know that.”

  Yeah. I knew that.

  The lounge chair was exactly what I needed. The sun beating down on my sprawled out body felt like a warm blanket in the cool Autumn air
. I needed to call Mara. I had let her down and hadn’t even given her the benefit of explaining. And really, she was nothing but kind and generous to me. I really needed to get another phone.

  “Tagg. Kim’s on my phone for you.” Dad came out holding the phone at arm’s length in his hand. “She said you still haven’t gotten back to her with a new phone number.”

  Damn. I took the phone. “Hey Kim, what’s up?”

  “Tagg.” Kim’s familiar voice was actually comforting. “What’s going on? The hair dresser called, said you never showed up today.”

  “Oh geez, Kim. I forgot all about it.”

  “Well, you’re the one who wanted to put some highlights back in your hair, pretty boy. She said she’ll keep the next couple hours open for you, but I have to call her right back with confirmation that you’re showing up.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave now.’

  “And, Taggy, don’t forget to pick up your contact lenses. They’re in.”

  “Got ’em yesterday.”

  I filled Auggie in on where I was going and left for the hair salon, making a mental note to stop at Verizon on my way back.

  The salon I once frequented regularly had a cold atmosphere compared to the warm 1950s feel I got at Sam’s Barbour Shop in Sparta. I doubted though, that Sam the Barbour would have known how to foil my hair with highlights and lowlights. Another huge difference between Sam and the stylist doing my hair today was that Sam had no idea who I was – even after telling him my name. Everyone at the salon today had recognized me and called me on it. Although it was flattering, it was far from the normalcy I’d desired. Sam’s place was warm, down-to-earth, and had that ‘just like home’ feel that I’ve always been drawn to.

  When the stylist was done with my hair, she spun the chair so that I would be facing the mirror. Unbelievable. It was as if time rewound itself and I was now peering at the 25 year old me. The ‘me’ I’ve been trying to run away from for so long. How I let this happen again, was beyond me. I wasn’t happy being a heartthrob. I wasn’t happy partying, although I enjoyed my music. I wasn’t even all that thrilled with touring months on end. Then, I run away from life, embracing myself in solitude, yet I was still so very unhappy. All I’ve ever really wanted was to live a decent, normal, moral existence, yet I didn’t even know what that was. Would I even recognize contentment if it were staring me in the face? Sometimes I’d wonder if I was just one of those sad individuals who, no matter how much life had granted them, were never, ever satisfied. I even ruined things with Mara. Those few short months I had been blessed with her friendship were probably the closest I had ever gotten to having a normal relationship. A deep relationship.