Broken Song

by Erik Schubach

  I walked out to the living room to find Sandra at the desk. She turned back when the dogs darted off toward me. Her eyes went wide. “Whoa! You're gorgeous Penny! Don't know why you hide it behind all that black and chains and collars and junk.”

  I could feel the heat of a blush on my cheeks. Damn it, she's on my list again. Nobody makes me blush! But she looked tantalizing. I shook the thought out of my head.

  I walked up next to her, I caught a trace of her scent and smiled. She had her checkbook open and a scrap sheet of paper with some long division scribbled on it. Seriously? She was dividing twenty one thousand by two and she was writing it all out? OK. Maybe I imagined her intelligence last night.

  She looked down to the paper I was looking at. She said quickly, “Just a second, I almost got it.” She looked at the paper with pride when she came up with ten thousand five hundred. Then she wrote a check in that amount to the Second Street Shelter and a matching one to the Anchorage Avenue Shelter.

  She noticed I was still looking at the paper and she explained, “I know I can use a calculator but this helps me with the math. I've never been really good at it and it confuses me a lot, but I think if I keep practicing, I'll get good at it one day.”

  I widened my eyes in disbelief, she couldn't do simple math like that in her head? Alrighty then. Then I squinted. “Why are you writing such huge checks to the shelters?”

  She looked at me like I was being silly. “Daddy didn't really want me moving to Seattle. He knows I'm not real smart and people are always trying to get to my money. I made some dumb mistakes in the past and people who acted like they liked me got a lot of money from me, so he set it up in a trust for me. That way I can only access a hundred thousand a month. So instead of giving the shelters bigger checks, I manage my money so I can help all my people a little at a time. I divide it up between the shelters, my therapy animals, the children hospitals and community centers each month.”

  What the hell? “You are giving all your money away?”

  She looked almost sad that I had asked the question and she responded like she was defending herself, “I'm helping people. It is the responsibility of the people who can lend a hand to those in need to do just that. It is only money, and if it can make someone's life just a tiny bit better with it, is there a greater use for it? I have my two part time jobs that are enough for me to live nicely here near the people who need my help. My trust has more money in it than I could spend in ten lifetimes, the interest alone is more than the hundred thousand a month I take out of it, I think daddy planned it that way. So if that money, that I can never hope to spend, can be used to help someone less fortunate than me? Then why the heck shouldn't I help?”

  She seemed to be getting upset. She really believed in what she was saying, of that I had absolutely no doubt. I never believed there were really people in this sick and decaying world that put others above themselves. I felt like crap for upsetting her with my questions. Wait, didn't I WANT to burst her bubble? Not at this moment, not with the determination in her steel grey eyes. She seemed so... innocent... breakable? Just now, I had a burning need to protect her.

  I nodded and put on a gentle smile curving my lips. “That is a selfless thing you are doing. I admire you for that Sandra.” She blushed and looked down with a prideful smile on her face. Despite myself, I found myself happy that I made her happy. I wanted to reach out to her and pull her into a hug.

  She hopped up and motored over to the kitchen, I caught myself watching her lithe body sway. She was commenting as she went, “I called Bobbie while you were showering. She gave me the next couple days off from the cafe in the lodge so I can show you how important you are and how much you have to share. What would you like for breakfast? Jane says I make a super good omelet.”

  I grinned at both her self-assurances that she could change my mind and at the random tangents she can take almost in mid-thought. “An omelet would be divine just now San. I don't think I have eaten anything since I flew into Seattle yesterday.”

  She giggled with a super satisfied grin on her attractive face. I tilted my head at her in question and she bubbled, “The other girls call me San too.”

  I watched her deftly make breakfast like a sous chef. She seemed to be constantly texting on her phone as she cooked. I thought of something I meant to ask last night. “All those people last night. They called you Dandelion. What's that all about?”

  She slid a divine smelling omelet onto a plate and slid the plate with a fork toward me as I sat at the counter bar stools she had around the island and the stove-top. She started making another omelet. “Oh that?” She pointed at her head. “My hair.” She giggled. “When I first met Leo like six years ago, he called me that. The rest of my friends on the street picked up on it and...” She shrugged. “There you are.”

  I stifled a giggle of my own. The nickname was actually fitting for some bizarre reason. I took a moment to really look at her. It seemed so surreal that a beautiful and unconventionally sexy woman like this, from an obviously high class upbringing, was the champion of, and friend to people that most of society ignore or don't even notice. If it wasn't for the innocent way she held herself, I dare say I'd call her pretty damn hot. But with her bearing, I had an overwhelming urge to protect her from all the evil and cruelty I knew the world was actually capable of. Hmmm... this must be how that Jane lady feels, I could understand it now.

  I waited for her to finish preparing her own omelet and sat next to me then I started eating. Wow! “This is an awesome omelet!” I said as I dug back into the omelet for more.

  She grinned back at me and scrunched her head to her shoulders cutely. “Mrs. Z at the Pike showed me how to make them. That's where I got my cupcakes.” I found myself again thinking it odd that she spoke of people and places like I should know what she was talking about. But I also found it kind of... charming and just... uniquely her.

  She kept saying “oops” and flicking little pieces of diced ham from her omelet onto the floor as she ate just to see it hovered up by the waiting puppies. Shit. I'm smiling again.

  We finished up and we put our dishes in the dish washer. Then without a word she was putting a coat and her shoes on and handing me mine. She grabbed the checks and started hooking the dogs up to the leashes. She handed me the boy's leashes and finally spoke, “They need to go out and do their thing. We can just walk, you have a story to tell me and it will take us about an hour to walk the circuit between the two shelters.”

  I was about to open my mouth but she started up again. “Petunia, Tulip, and Daisy here are stubborn anyway, it takes some convincing for them to do their thing.” She grabbed a little roll of plastic bags off the counter and stuffed them in her pocket. And then tucked a couple broken down cardboard boxes and a flannel shirt under her arm.

  I just dumbly followed her. Then out of curiosity I asked, “You have cute flower names for the females. Why did you name the males Monster and Fang?”

  She giggled. “Cuz they're boys, duh. They're all macho and manly and stuff. They'd be so embarrassed if I named 'em Snuggles and Tiny or sumpin like that.”

  I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped my lips. I looked down at my charges. “You hear that guys? You're macho.”

  This got a matching eye roll and an extremely huge smile from her. Wow! Now that was a first for that particular smile which originated in her sparkling eyes. I definitely have to get her to do that again! I bit my lower lip in want then turned away as we walked outside. She was obsessively texting on her phone.

  A couple blocks later she turned into an alley between two old brick buildings and stuffed one of the broken down cardboard boxes between a garbage can and the wall and tossed the other in a dumpster with the flannel shirt. I cocked an eyebrow in question to her.

  She shrugged. “Seeding the area with offerings. Most of the lifers won't accept any kind of help. But if they happen to find some good stuff in a dumpster dive...” She shrugged innocently and
left the rest unsaid as we walked and she texted without losing focus on our discussions.

  Another block away there was a run down, poorly maintained park. The moment we got there, Fang and Monster were marking everything in sight. Monster decided this was as good a place as any and dropped a toxic bomb in the grass.

  Sandra was holding a little inside out baggie to me. “Ewwwww!” I said.

  She rolled her eyes in mirth, putting her hand into the baggie, and whispered, “Pansy.” I noticed the grin she flashed me as she stooped and picked up the poop and turned the bag right side out and sealed it. Cool trick.

  We continued for a few more feet then Fang decide he would outdo Monster. Sandra didn't even offer me the baggie this time she just put a cute look on her face, stuck out her tongue. She made it quite obvious that she thought I was silly while she picked up his offering.

  She wiggled her eyebrows and again I couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping me. We moved to sit on a bench in the park and she dropped the evil bags of stinkyness into the trash can beside us. She unclipped the leashes and the dogs all ran around in the grass, playing and tumbling into each other nearby. I noticed they never went more than about twenty feet away. And if they did, she absently tapped a heel on the ground and they rallied closer again. These were exceedingly well trained dogs.

  I glanced over at her and noticed she was staring at me. There was the odd feeling that she was studying and analyzing me but also something else. Were her eyes darker? She noticed I was looking at her then she bit her lower lip and blushed profusely as she shyly looked down. “So. Penny. Are you ready to share your story? Why were you on that bridge?” She stopped texting and tucked her phone into her pocket and gave me her full attention.

  I nodded and took a deep breath and began.

  Chapter 4 – My Damage

  My life had certainly been a whirlwind since the garage band I sang in in high school, Leather and Heels, hit the club circuit. We were an all girl band and played a fusion of hard rock and punk. I lived the life. Though underage, I could always find someone willing to supply us with alcohol and drugs. I slept with just about anything that moved. Men, women, it didn't matter... it was the thrill that mattered.

  That's when we met Victor. The young up and coming manager who was associated with the Bandwidth record label. I was eighteen and he was twenty one and hot as hell. I thought he was so mature being an older man and all. It wasn't long after he signed us with the label that he had wooed me away from my drummer Amanda and she left the band. I mean, sure, she was hot and sexy but she just wasn't mature like Victor... and he certainly didn't complain the couple of times we shared our bed with some of the fan girls in the early years. I stopped sharing our bed with others after we got married. The band started hitting it big and I dedicated myself to him and the music. The label sort of ruled our lives.

  Our music was some of the hottest out there and we skyrocketed to the tops of the charts. And being fusion music, we topped multiple charts in multiple genres. We were living high, not to mention being high almost constantly.

  Five years, four platinum albums, and thirteen number one hits later, my life changed. I wasn't feeling well for a couple weeks and usually started the mornings puking my guts out. When I visited the doctor, he gave me news I could never had been prepared for. I was pregnant, maybe six weeks along.

  That scared the hell out of me. Shit, I was pregnant. But I was drinking and doing drugs for the six weeks I was pregnant. What if it hurt the baby!? I stopped drinking and getting high as soon as I was told and checked into rehab. Let me tell you, those were not happy days and I would never wish withdrawal on my worst enemy. The record label almost dropped Leather and Heels in those bad weeks but Victor got them to hold off. Now I wish they had, my life would be so much different now.

  He tried to get me to opt for an abortion; the music was more important or some lame ass thing like that. No way was I going to do that to the miracle growing inside of me!

  I was so ashamed of my life and so amazed the first time I went in for an ultrasound. Victor didn't make it, he had “band business” to attend to. But I saw my twins... another surprise. I saw my baby daughters' heartbeats. They told me they looked healthy and I almost broke down. I had spent years numb to the world, not feeling anything, not wanting to feel anything. But now, these two unborn rays of light were making me feel emotion, like I had woke from a long slumber to see the world for the first time.

  I loved them so much and I hadn't even met them yet. I thought maybe I could turn my life into something I wanted, something I could be proud of... for them. That was a mistake. The record label canceled our tour until the babies were born. After all, they can't have the lead singer of a punk band showing a baby gut. They canceled all our contracts with them except the binding one that stopped us from entertaining a new label.

  Victor seemed mad all the time after that, he was yelling about money constantly. But we had over ten million in the bank and residuals and royalties still flowing in, that would be millions on their own. The rest of the band blamed me too.

  Then my beautiful girls, Brandye and Lessa were born. There is nothing I would not have done for them, nothing I still wouldn't do for them. The label had me hit the gym hard to get back into my pre-pregnancy shape. Victor harped on me and controlled my diet, he spent more effort on that than on our daughters.

  I knew it was a bad situation with him but I vowed I would stay with him; just because it was hard for me didn't mean I'd deprive my girls of their father as they grew up.

  The label took us back and another album and tour later, we were their goose laying the golden eggs again. Once the huge amounts of cash started flowing again, Victor got better for a time.

  It was all the same as it was before except the drugs and drinking. I vowed to be a good mother for my girls. They were the sunshine in my soul. Since I wrote all of our stuff, our music started changing, getting more upbeat. I was talking about retiring, but the other band members put more and more pressure on me to stay. They were addicted to the money and the fame.

  The label didn't approve of my new music and started trying to force music on us that I didn't write. I shot them down over and over and Victor kept getting more and more angry at me.

  A couple years ago I finally decided I wanted to spend all my time raising my almost sixteen year old daughters. I had missed so much touring all the time. Whenever I wasn't on tour or in the studio I dedicated every moment to them. My god I was getting close to forty, I didn't want to be one of those old dinosaur has-beens still trying to rock out and embarrassing myself and my children. But the band rebelled, Victor rebelled, the label rebelled. I was the face of Leather and Heels, I was the voice of Leather and Heels; if I left, the band would be doomed.

  My own band members and the label got together and sued me, een though I had fulfilled every contract. The fact that the rest of the band wanted to continue with the label, they somehow got the judge to see that I was “punishing” them and cutting short their cash flow in spite, or some dumb ass thing like that. I still wonder if someone hadn't made it worth his while to find for the plaintiffs. Victor was furious with me through the whole thing. We wound up having to pay forty million dollars to the band and the label. That was over three quarters of everything we had, plus the band got all the rights to the music... my music... but I did get to keep my royalty and residuals. They took my music from me, even the band name.

  It was barely a burp in the media that Leather and Heels had been dissolved. Bands break up and get back together again all the time so it wasn't really front page stuff.

  Then Victor and I had a huge argument after that and he actually slapped me. The next thing I knew, he had filed for divorce. The bastard never really loved me... or the girls. He was only after the money, the fame.

  He dug up every skeleton in my closet to punish me during the messy divorce proceedings. Bringing up the drugs and alcohol I hadn't touched in sixteen years, using the
rehab as proof of my abuses. Bringing up my sexual proclivity that was well publicized. Who cares that I had never once cheated on the bastard after we got married. My girls were being so traumatized by the whole thing. I could see the pain in their eyes, they were crying all the time and it was my fault. I was hurting them by fighting Victor and dragging this all out so long.

  The worst thing was that he demonstrated that I was not fit to be a mother because for almost half my daughters lives I had been on one tour or another, that HE had arranged! My children were confused and hurt and the media was asking them what they thought of my deplorable lifestyle. I could have fought even more but I wouldn't do that to them. They had suffered enough because of me, because of my past. I gave up... for them.

  Victor was awarded our mansion, and full custody of my daughters, and all but a hundred thousand dollars from our bank account. He couldn't touch the millions in the trusts I had already set up for the girls and I still get half my residuals and royalties, the rest goes to child support until they turn eighteen next year. He won't allow me to call them and they are locked down from social media. I wrote them every day for months but never received a single response. They don't want anything to do with me; up until my doctor's visit last week, I still wrote every day.

  I went from the top of the world to nothing. My entire world fell down around me. My music, my home, my family... all stripped from me. I couldn't give a rat's ass about the damn money, that's all Victor ever wanted. I just miss my girls so much.

  I paused and took a shuddering breath. Sandra's eyes were watery as she patiently listened to the joke that was my life. Then I closed my eyes and spoke so low it was almost a whisper, “I guess this was karma slapping me in the face, showing me we can't escape our past. I'm nothing but poison. Everything has been taken from me. And now I won't even be a woman any more. The fucking universe is even taking that from me.”