Bitter Farewell (11 page)

Lorraine patted the back of Danny’s head and then tended to Charlie, helping him to a seat.

Then came Liv.

There was an awkward moment when Danny offered his hand and Liv opened her arms. Then Danny opened his arms and Liv offered her hand. They smiled and settled on a hug. Danny didn’t care how hard he squeezed Liv. Feeling her body against his was everything to him right then. The hug lasted a few seconds too long and Liv had to pry herself away.

“I’m just sorry,” she whispered.

“I am too,” Danny said. “I need you to know...”

Liv continued her walk and Danny’s mouth ached for the flask again... if he couldn’t have Liv’s lips, the flask was the only other thing that could help him.

The viewing came to an end and the casket was loaded into the back of a hearse. The procession drove slowly to the cemetery, which was only a couple miles away. In the van, Danny asked for the flask and had another drink.

It tasted horrible.

But he couldn’t stop.

When he lifted the flask again, it disappeared from his hands. He looked at Johnnie, whose nostrils flared.

“This won’t change a thing,” Johnnie said.

“It sends things away,” Danny replied.

“Yeah. Then they come crashing back, harder, don’t they?”

Johnnie put the top on the flask and threw it to Rick.

The rest of the ride was in silence.

At the cemetery, the five men of Chasing Cross carried
Big John
’s
casket to the grave. There were only a handful of people there as they listened to the priest say the last prayers for Johnnie and Danny’s father. Danny stared at the casket, wondering if he was supposed to take this time to mentally say goodbye to his father. The thought really hadn’t crossed his mind at all. He couldn’t just say goodbye and walk away, that’s not how it worked in his heart.

He gazed upon the headstone more than the casket itself, seeing his mother’s name engraved on the stone, along with her birth date and passing date. Being buried with your spouse should be romantic, the kind of eternal love people dream about on a daily basis. But this did not have that feel to it. A man who treated his family like hell, burying his wife of cancer, and then drinking himself until his heart gave out had nothing romantic about it. It was more of a nightmare finally coming to an end.

Finally.

What a terrible word to think while at a funeral.

As Danny looked around the cemetery, he thought about all the people there. Those laid to rest. The memories and legacies they left behind. Some bigger than others... some measured in different aspects. It was a sobering scene, but the most sobering part of it all was when Danny saw Liv standing at the back of the small crowd.

At first, Danny thought he imagined her there.

But she was there.

She looked at him once and then kept her eyes on the casket.

With the final prayers spoken, the crowd disbanded and everyone slowly shuffled away from the coffin. Danny and Johnnie were invited to remain and watch the casket be lowered into the grave. Johnnie declined but Danny hesitated for a few seconds.

“Why don’t we wait in the van?” Johnnie finally asked.

“Please,” Danny whispered.

Danny soon found himself almost alone. As they prepared to lower the casket into the ground once and for all, Danny walked towards Liv. She stood with her arms at her sides, looking drawn and confused.

“If I did anything yesterday...,” Danny started to say but lost the words. “I... not a day has gone by that I don’t think about everything.”

“Why don’t you turn around and say goodbye,” Liv whispered.

“What makes you think I didn’t already?” Danny asked.

“Your eyes could never lie to me,” Liv said.

Danny turned and stuck his hands in his pockets. He didn’t know why, but it really started to get to him when they began to lower the casket into the ground. Suddenly, he pictured himself as a ten year old...

Charging out of his room and across to Johnnie’s room. He had just switched from a ‘G’ chord to a ‘C’ chord without missing a note. He could strum between the two of them. He saw Johnnie standing at the window. He looked... sad...

“Johnnie? Are you okay?”

Johnnie looked at Danny and looked away quickly.

“Fine,” Johnnie said. “Heard you playing. Sounds good, little brother. Keep going. We’ll get there someday.”

Johnnie walked away from the window and grabbed his guitar.

Danny walked to the window and looked out.

He saw his father standing in the yard, a bottle of whiskey attached to his hand. Their mother was hanging clothes from the line out back. He could hear the muffled sounds of his father yelling at his mother. He wasn’t sure what it was about; probably something stupid.

That’s when Danny turned and saw Johnnie blinking fast.

He realized then... his big, strong brother... his hero... Johnnie... was crying...

Danny felt a hand touch his wrist and pull his hand from his pocket. When he tried to exhale, he made a cracking groaning sound and tears filled his eyes.

His father was gone. And it hurt. But for all the wrong reasons.

He looked down and saw Liv’s slender fingers wrapped around his hand.

“I’m sorry it hurts so bad,” Liv whispered. “I know... I was there...”

Danny shook his head. “It’s not just that.”

A tear crept down Danny’s cheek. He certainly didn’t look and feel like a tough rockstar right then. But when Liv rested her head against his arm, he didn’t want to be a tough rockstar. He wanted to be a groveling fool... or whatever Liv wanted him to be.

The casket was lowered into the ground. Nothing left to do but fill the hole. Danny didn’t want to stay around to see that.

He turned his head and looked at Liv. “Can we at least talk?”

“What are words going to do right now?” Liv asked.

“Nothing. But I have so much to say.”

“Not in this moment, not here. This is where things come to rest, Danny.”

Liv moved to her toes and kissed Danny’s cheek. She then walked towards the only other vehicle still waiting beside the van with the rest of the guys inside.

Danny touched his cheek, feeling the tears.

It was all done now.

His father was dead.

Buried and gone.

Liv started to drive and a small cloud of dust kicked up on the dirt road that led through the cemetery. Danny felt dead inside. Staring at the dust cloud dissipating, he wondered if that’s how Liv felt... all those years ago when he left her.

(9)

Danny looked at the guitar sitting next to him on the couch.

Go ahead, play it.

His mind wanted him to just grab the guitar and start strumming. That’s honestly where most of the best Chasing Cross songs came from. Someone would start messing around with a riff that would turn into a song. A few years back, at Peter’s request, the band tried writing sessions. They’d get together with instruments and pen and paper and try to write music. What came out of it were the most frustrating Chasing Cross days. The band had considered breaking up more than once and ended up forcing a few written songs that were so terrible that once they were recorded, Davey ran the demos over with his car.

Nobody - not even Peter - stopped Davey from doing so.

The songs were that bad.

In front of Danny, right on the table, was a fresh bottle of beer. Sweat collected and started to drip down the long neck of the bottle. The sweat made Danny thirsty. However, his fingers tingled to play and his heart ached for something musical to happen.

He needed it.

It was his therapy.

It was his release.

But right then, so was the beer.

Danny grabbed the bottle and drank front it, purposely turning his body away form the guitar as though the guitar had feelings and would be let down that Danny made the wrong choice.

It was later in the afternoon, way too early to feel as tired as Danny did. It was going to be a long, painful night, that is, unless Danny drank himself quickly into oblivion and passed out.

Johnnie was on the phone with a lawyer, sorting out more details of their father’s things he left behind. And that’s all Danny felt it was. Nothing to inherit, just stuff left behind.

The front door to the house opened and Chris, Rick, and Davey came walking in, carrying a few bags of groceries and a few more bags of liquor and a couple six packs.

It looked like it was going to be that kind of night after all.

Davey walked towards the living room and pulled a neon orange piece of paper from his back pocket and waved it.

“Want to have some fun tonight?” he asked.

His eyes were lit up. The only time he looked that excited was before a show or after writing a new song.

“What is it?” Danny asked.

“First off, put that bottle down and pick up that guitar.”

“Don’t mess around, man, okay?”

Davey threw the paper at Danny. It floated down next to him and as he opened it, he saw Chris and Rick standing next to Davey.

Something was up.

Danny opened the paper, read two words, and folded it.

“No way,” Danny said.

Open mic.

“Come on,” Davey said. “It’ll be fun.”

“Open mic? Really?”

“Think about it,” Rick said. “We come walking out on stage at a little dive bar...”

“Not Crabley’s man,” Danny said.

“Who cares?” Davey said. “Are you seriously going to hide in this house until everything is settled?”

“You do realize we’re leaving tomorrow,” Chris said. “At least the three of us are.”

Danny looked at his band mates. He didn’t want to think about them flying out of Bakersville and back into their own lives. It somehow seemed and felt like a cruel joke.

“You’re lucky I don’t leave tonight,” Davey said. “Right now even.”

“Why’s that?” Danny asked.

“Anna called me. She’s home and teasing me to come home too.”

“Music or sex...,” Rick chimed in. “Now that may be the toughest decision in the world.”

“What are we going to do?” Danny asked. “Just play acoustic guitars and drink?”

“Sounds like a night to me,” Chris said.

“Me too...”

Everyone turned and saw Johnnie standing in the doorway to the kitchen with his arms folded. He leaned against the doorway, his eyes locked to Danny.

“Everything is settled here,” Johnnie said. “We... sort of own everything.”

“We own everything?”

Johnnie nodded. “Believe it or not but the old man had no debts. Not on the house, not on a car, no credit cards. Nothing. He has a little money in his bank account and he’s caught up on taxes and bills.”

“He was organized, huh?”

“I can’t believe it, but he was.”

“I really don’t feel like sitting around here,” Johnnie said. “So, I’m heading out, no matter what. We have a van. We have a driver. Why not take advantage of it?”

Danny threw the neon orange paper to the coffee table and watched it spin a little. He sighed and sat back. Of course he wanted to play guitar. Of course he wanted to play a show. It was his life. He promised himself that he would always play. No matter the time, the venue, the purpose. He refused to become a product of the music industry, some object that needed money to step on stage or was too good to play a local place for the hell of it. Chasing Cross put on an over the top show with pyrotechnics, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t jam out in their hometown. At the end of those shows and at the end of the tour the only thing that mattered was the music.

“You know it’s calling you,” Davey said. “You can’t sit a guitar next to you like that and not touch it.”

Danny reached out and flicked the strings. The random notes echoed in the living room. He looked at the band and couldn’t help but smile. They could have left and played a show anyway. But they knew without Danny it wasn’t Chasing Cross. Just like with Rick. Even though his arm was still healing and even though he couldn’t play drums yet, he was still part of the band. Johnnie even joked with him once that he could bang two spoons together and still be in the band.

Danny stood from the couch and sighed again. “Let’s go do a freaking show I guess.”

The band cheered and Johnnie pushed away from the doorway and went into the kitchen. The rest of the guys split up to get their guitars and Danny was right back where he started... alone with a beer and a guitar. The beer looked just as delicious as before but the guitar was talking to him. Sure, it was silent, but Danny’s fingers twitched, wanting to make something happen. He grabbed the guitar and put his right foot up on the table. He balanced the guitar and started to play. The second his fingers touched the neck and his other set of fingers started plucking the strings, his heart began to race. He couldn’t believe what he was playing. For a few seconds Danny was afraid to close his eyes and really enjoy the song because he thought he’d fall back in time and finally succumb to his emotions.