Strum Me

by Daisy Allen

  Once I’ve spoken to the police, we return to our buses. Brad insists that Ben and I join the guys on their bus, and I go for Ben’s sake. I know he’s confused about the police coming, and being around the band will help him feel safe and distract him from his thoughts.

  I bring my laptop, ready to work on my next column, but I can’t concentrate on anything on the screen. I can’t focus.

  How do I go from day to day not knowing what Silas has in store for me? Am I supposed to just sit and wait to see how things will play out? Let him lead this at his own schedule?

  Or should I find out, once and for all, what he really wants?

  I take out my phone and bring up his name.

  I know it was you. Don’t even try to deny it. What do you want?

  I press Send. And sit. And wait.

  ***

  “Emily, how nice to hear from you.” His voice over the phone makes me slide my hands over my arms, brushing away imaginary creepy crawlies.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. I know it was you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Sending the police to check up on Ben, that was low. Even for you, Silas.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. Must be a great big misunderstanding.”

  “Misunderstanding, my ass!”

  “Oh no, sweetheart. I’ve always read your ass just as you’d intended.”

  “You better stop with all this, Silas. I don’t know what you’re planning, but it’s got to stop.”

  “Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? But anyway, since you called. Have you given any more thought to coming to work for my band?”

  His question completely blindsides me and I don’t even have a response. Why on earth would I have thought about it? I’d made it clear that I had no interest in coming to write for him whatsoever at the Snow Festival.

  “Can I take that silence as something promising?”

  “You can take it as me trying to adopt the motto of ‘If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.’”

  “My my, I don’t remember you being so feisty. Maybe traveling with a rock band has had a bad effect on you.”

  “I can only imagine what would happen to my potty mouth if I were traveling with you.”

  “Look, relax. I didn’t call to fight. I called to offer the job to you again. Have you been reading the write-ups about the Snow Festival? Hardly anyone mentioned us. The ones who did, though, loved our set, but we need more exposure. We don’t just want you to write up silly little columns for us; we want you to head our PR team.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about PR, Silas.” Not that it matters.

  “You know how to put us in a good light, get our name out there. I’m seeing how you did it for the Rock Chamber Boys. Now you can do it for us, from the ground up.”

  “They were already Grammy-winning artists, Silas. I know I don’t need to remind you.” I can’t help rubbing in.

  “And this time next year, so will we. If what I have in mind goes as I planned.”

  “Does that include Ben?”

  “Back to that? You know, you’re so short-minded. The more successful I am, the better it is for him. Have you ever thought of that? And anyway, maybe you should remember that if it weren’t for me you wouldn’t even have a Ben. So don’t be so ungrateful. I gave you the one person you love most in the world.”

  I shouldn’t have brought Ben up. Just the thought of Silas having anything to do with him makes my heart twist. “Are you threatening me again?”

  “I never did, my dear. Just a friendly reminder is all. Anyway, gotta go. Have a think again about what I’m offering. A good, long, smart think.”

  He hangs up the phone and I listen to the beeping tone until it finally turns off.

  I push myself up off the bed and creep into Ben’s room. He’s sound asleep, curled up around his Iron Man toy, his broken arm stretched out in front of him. I pull the blankets he’s kicked off up over him and sit there watching him. Watching my sweet little monkey. Thinking back on all the joy he’s brought me, all the love, all the laughter. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

  I never thought that that would be tested, though. I just knew that when it came down to it, the only thing that would matter would be what was best for him.

  He stirs as I press a kiss to his forehead. He pulls his toy in closer, then falls back into his slumber, free from worry. Safe. Loved.

  And I vow to protect him. Always.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Brad

  When I was eight years old, my father took me to small country fair. There were rides and food stalls and carnival games and all sorts of knickknacks that you could imagine. He gave me thirty dollars and told me I could spend it on anything I wanted. I’d never held so much money in my hand before. I bought a second-hand handheld game console. I’d never had one, our family not having much money at that time, and the very act of buying it was so exciting to me. I spent the rest of the day grasping it tight in my little hand. It was one of the happiest memories of my life.

  Later that night though, sitting at the dining room table, my mom served us peanut butter and jelly for the third time that week. I complained about why we couldn’t have something else to eat, like steak or fish. I remember them sharing a look, and then my father gently telling me that steak was very expensive and we didn’t have enough money to eat steak…that day. But we would soon.

  I remember looking down at my toy and wondering again out loud why he’d given me the money to buy it. My parents shared another look, this time with smiles on their faces. And my father said that when I had children, I’d find out that seeing my child smile for a second is worth a lifetime of steak dinners.

  I might not have a child now, but I have the woman I’ve loved for as long as I’ve known her and her son, who I’ll love for the rest of my life.

  And right now, I’d do anything to make them smile.

  It’s been almost a week now since the visit from the police, and everyone is still on edge.

  I know Emily spoke to Silas, but she won’t share much other than she says he denied calling the police and that he keeps offering her a job.

  As far as I know there’s been no contact since. And I’m not sure if that silence is more worrying or comforting to her. I just know that at night, when she’s fallen asleep and I’m still holding her, her murmurs echo her nightmares.

  I don’t know how to help her right now. But when I do, there’ll be no stopping me.

  ***

  “Good news or bad news?” Dennis says as soon as he walks into the hotel suite.

  We all groan at the familiar question.

  After so many weeks on the road cooped up in our buses, getting in each other’s hair and incessant nagging, Dennis surprised us for our stay in Liverpool at the Hard Day’s Night Hotel. Who knows, maybe he’s hoping the spirit of the Beatles will cheer us up.

  “Just tell us, D. Have pity on our poor souls,” Marius begs on behalf of all of us.

  “Poor, my ass. But yes, I’m in a good mood today, so let me tell you this—there is no bad news.”

  “Woot!”

  “And the really good news is, you guys have been asked to headline at the RockFever Fest next month.”

  “NO FUCKING WAY!”

  “What happened to Coldplay?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care. Their misfortune is our…well, let’s put it this way, our very sizably increased fortune. Big wads of rolling around naked fuck me fortune…”

  “Aww Dennis, you’re just a softy in that heart of yours, aren’t ya?” Marius pats him on the chest. “Wait...where…” He moves his hand over the front of Dennis’s jacket, patting his chest and over his stomach. “Where…where’s your heart?”

  “My heartlessness equals your paycheck, so feel away, cheese-dick.”

  “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. That’s two hundred thousand people. Have we ever played a b
igger crowd?” Sebastian asks.

  “Well, Glastonbury was about a hundred and thirty thousand, but we weren’t headlining,” Jez points out.

  “Fuck,” I can’t help exhaling. The enormity of it dawns on us.

  “Yeah, fuck,” Sebastian repeats. “Dennis, you did good.”

  “No, and listen up, twiddle-dicks, because I’m not going to say this again. You earned it. What you’ve been doing the last few weeks? It’s getting noticed. How you behave, how consistent your shows have been, the absolutely amazing album. This is just the culmination of all that.” He reaches out and pats me on the shoulder. And I want to say, with a look of pride in his eyes. “Just don’t…”

  “We know…” We all chime in, “FUCK IT UP!”

  ***

  “So, the word on the street is that now Coldplay’s pulled out—you guys are taking over,” Sammy, the radio talk show hosts asks us at our breakfast radio interview the next day.

  “Ooh, where did you hear that?” Jez asks.

  “It’s not true?”

  “We’re not saying that, we’re just wondering where you heard it,” Jez fires back, winking.

  “So, it is true,” Sammy presses.

  “We’re not saying that either, but it sure sounds like a good idea to us…if the powers that control that sort of thing are listening,” Sebastian replies.

  “Ha-ha, tell us, is it true? Because I might just have a reason to come along!”

  “Come along anyway, and if it’s not us, we can boo them together!” Marius suggests, causing Sammy to burst into laughter.

  “It’s going to be huge is all I can say. If there’s anyone who’s been living under a rock and haven’t heard of you yet, they will after this concert, no doubt.”

  “Haven’t heard of us! For shame! We don’t wear all this makeup just for ourselves you know,” Jez insists.

  “Yeah, we wear it for each other!” Sebastian finishes.

  “Come on guys, really, you can’t give us a tiny hint?”

  “We do nothing tiny my dear,” I finally speak up.

  “Fine. You heard it here first. The Rock Chamber Boys may or may not be headlining the first ever RockFever Fest. I know. Breaking news.”

  ***

  “Damn, how’d she hear so fast? Someone’s got loose lips that’s for sure,” Jez wonders as we leave the radio station.

  “Hey, I’m Princess Loose Lips to you,” Hailey pipes up, and gives us all a knowing wink.

  “I knew it,” Marius says, clapping his hands.

  “Wha?” Hailey replies, giving us an innocent shrug.

  “Your dad said don’t say anything,” Sebastian accuses her.

  “Yeah, to you. He said the opposite to me. Anyway, it’s important to get your name out there, cementing you guys for the gig. I heard everyone is clamoring for it and there’s a huge list of bands just waiting to take over.”

  “No kidding, like who?”

  “Arctic Monkeys, Angus and Julia Stone, The String Flingers,” she rattles off.

  “Whoa whoa, who? You’re kidding right? The String Flingers?” I ask her.

  “Nope, not kidding. I heard they were in the running.”

  “Good God why?” Jez sneers, totally unimpressed.

  “Well, they got a lot of exposure when they played before you guys at Snow Fest and frankly, they’re cheap. They’d pretty much play for free, just for the publicity. And well—festivals aren’t cheap to run,” she explains.

  “Ugh, I could fart into a microphone and sound better than those hacks,” I say, causing Marius to snort his herbal tea.

  “Well, save it for the comeback tour, okay?” he says once he recovers. Grabbing onto my arm, he holds me back while the other guys keep walking. “Dude, you okay? I don’t usually see you so worked up.”

  “Just. You know, Silas,” I say, the S’s in his name coming out just like I thought they would, like a snake in the grass.

  “What’s going on with that?”

  “I don’t know. I just… Man, I don’t know, I don’t know how to help her,” I tell him, feeling completely helpless.

  “Just be there for her. I know what it’s like to feel helpless. But it’s not about you, it’s about her,” Marius says, a rare sensitive side showing.

  “But I love her. I can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

  “That’s why you gotta put your shit aside and do what needs to be done for her peace of mind.”

  I smile at him, grateful. I know how hard it is for him to refrain from making jokes. “Thanks. You’re the best girlfriend a guy could ever have.”

  “You’re welcome. Want to see my boobs now?”

  “No thanks, we see enough of those on our album cover.”

  “Hey, whatever gets us the sales, dude.”

  ***

  I know Marius is right. I know I just need to not worry about what it all means for me, and worry about what I can do for her. For her and Ben.

  I just don’t know what that is. I’ve never had to make decisions based on someone else before. In fact, I’ve never really had to make any decisions for my life at all. I’ve been sheltered in my life with the band. It’s always been about the music and the music first. Everything else came after.

  Except for each other.

  And I guess this is no different.

  I knock on the adjoining room door to Emily’s room. There’s no answer and I knock again.

  “Butter? Are you in there?”

  I press my ear against the door. There’s a sound coming from inside but again, no answer.

  “Emily! Are you okay? I can hear you in there. Open the door.”

  There’s a pause, and then I hear soft footsteps.

  She throws open the door and the look on her face makes my stomach sink.

  She’s pale and her eyes are brimming with tears. She’s holding papers in her hands that shake as she steps aside, letting me walk past her and into the room.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “He…He…” She stares at me, unable to get the words out.

  “He...what? Who?” I ask, trying to help her form words.

  “Si-Silas.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” I don’t know what’s coming next, but it can’t be good.

  “He’s suing me for custody of Ben.” She looks at me, her eyes red with tears, frantic, as she tries to process what’s happening.

  “NO!”

  “He…” She holds out the papers to me. “I’ve talked to my lawyer and…and she says he’s citing neglect. That I’ve been neglecting my child and he wants …wants custody of him. To take care of him. Because he says, he says…I’m a bad mother!” she repeats as if unable to comprehend it.

  Pulling her into my arms, I hold her as she erupts into sobs. Her body shaking against me, every bone, every muscle, vibrating with her despair. I banish the hate rising up in me to deal with later as I try to comfort her as much as possible.

  “He’s…he’s got no chance, angel. He’s just grasping at straws,” I say, squeezing her tight, trying to protect her in the circle of my arms.

  “My lawyer said…they said…he cited Ben’s broken arm, and then taking him on this tour…and then losing him at the concert and then leaving the next day without him to Northville. They say that’s just in the last few months, and it’s all documented,” she says through her tears, her voice breaking as she relates back the list.

  “None of that is your fault! And none of it proves you’re a bad mother or neglect him!”

  “His arm is broken in three places, Brad!”

  “I know, angel, and you know what? I broke my legs twice before I was ten. No one called my parents bad parents. Kids have accidents! And this tour? What’s so bad about that? Kids go on vacation all the time. You’ve seen us, we enjoy a drink now and then, but we’re not drug-addled fiends. And he wasn’t lost. We would’ve found him. He was right there. Maybe if Silas hadn’t taken him away. And as for Northville, we were barely gone ten hours.”


  “But…” Her voice cracks before she can say anything more.

  “He’s got nothing, angel.”

  “He does. He’ll find something. You don’t know him.” She pulls away from me, her eyes darting back and forth as she if she’s trying to follow the thoughts flooding her brain. ”You don’t know me.”

  She sinks onto the bed, her head falling into her hands.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’m not perfect, Brad. Don’t make me out to be.”

  “I’m not. But you’re not a bad mother. You’re a wonderful mother and you’ve got a shitload of people who are going to swear to that if it comes to it.”

  “But…I’ve made mistakes…like you said, I fucked up.”

  “We’re over that now. It’s over.”

  “No, Brad. I mean…I fucked up big.”

  Her hands shaking on the bed cover gives away just how scared she is. She’s hiding something. Or, trying to tell me something. I go and sit down next to her.

  “What is it, what happened?”

  “I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…it was an accident.”

  “You need to tell me, what are you talking about?”

  “They… they’ve taken him away before.”

  I try to hide my shock by rubbing my hand over her shoulder, letting her know it’s safe to share. “What do you mean?”

  “I…I forgot to pick him up once…from daycare.”

  “Okay.”

  “I…you don’t understand, after I had him, things were hard for me. I was a single mother, and my mom wasn’t really around much. I was all alone.”

  She wrings her hands and I look at them. They’re almost raw from being rubbed.

  “I… I really struggled for a long time, Brad. I tried, I really did. But I…it was just so hard.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I stopped off at the bar one night after work and…and I wouldn’t leave. They…they tried to get me to leave, but I didn’t want to go home. I couldn’t. I didn’t want him to see me that way.”

  “What way, babe?”

  “Drunk! I didn’t want him to see me drunk. I love him so much, but sometimes it was just too much. I didn’t know until I got some help that I had quite severe postpartum depression.”