Finding Abbey Road (16 page)

“This isn't going to go well,” she says, I guess to me, as she gazes down at him.

“Great.” I hurry after Caleb and Val.

1:18 a.m.

We step through the door. Eli peers into the shadows. “Suze?” he says. “What's up . . .”

You can tell even from the way he moves. Quick. Every motion seems sudden, rushed, like he's barely keeping up with each moment. There's an extra shake, a twitch. He
blinks harder than you need to, his whole face squinting. His hand rubs up and down the neck of the acoustic guitar, making a tinny, slippery sound on the strings. Tattoos ring his wrists, his fingers. His hair that, from a distance, looked like a fashionable mess, is really just a mess.

Caleb and Val walk side by side. They walk toward their father. They stop at the edge of the light. I step beside Caleb and take his hand.

Eli sees us now. He doesn't speak. His eyes jump from one of us to the next. Linger on me. I'm the one he recognizes. That girl he saw in a New York club.

You can see him working it out. If I'm here, then these two . . .

“Hi, Eli,” says Caleb quietly.

Val sniffs hard as tears fall.

“What are . . .” Eli blinks hard, squinting like we're far away even though we're right in front of him. He leans back toward the mic. “Suze? What's happening?”

“It's me,” says Caleb. “It's us. Caleb and Val. Your kids.”

“Val . . .” Eli turns to take her in fully. He shakes his head like an insect is buzzing around his ears. “Are you Melanie's?”

“And yours,” Val says, her voice hitching.

Another moment of silence.

Suddenly Eli laughs and steps forward, wrapping Caleb and Val in a hug. Caleb half returns the gesture. They both seem stunned. “You two . . . I can't believe this! You—you're
my kids.” Eli holds them for a second, and then pulls back, patting their shoulders. “And you're grown-up, you're . . .” He trails off.

Caleb and Val are left standing there, frozen in place. I see Caleb blinking. Here in the dark studio, it's hard to tell if it's from tears. He looks like he wants to say something, but he must be so overwhelmed. Val stares hard at the floor.

Caleb glances at me. I squeeze his hand, but I have no idea how this conversation goes. There are five feet between them now, after sixteen years and thousands of miles. “The tapes?” I whisper to Caleb.

Caleb nods. “We got your messages,” he says to Eli. “We found your tapes. That's how we got to New York, and we all would have been there that night at Ten Below . . . things just got out of control. I'm sorry we missed you. I—”

“Messages?” Eli picks up the acoustic again and sits on the stool. “I . . . couldn't have sent you any messages.” He shakes his head. “I don't even have a phone. . . .”

“I mean the letter in Randy's gig bag,” says Caleb, and I hear the same uncertainty in his voice that is making my heart pound.

“Then the tape at Canter's,” Caleb continues. “The Jazzmaster, Denver . . .”

“Canter's.” This makes Eli look up. “Did you see Vic?”

“Well, yeah, we did . . .”

“How is he?”

“Come on, Da—Eli,” says Val. “We followed your
clues across the country! If it hadn't been for shit getting crazy in New York, we would have been there to meet you. Why are you acting like you have no idea what we're talking about?”

Eli shakes his head. “I just, I um . . .” He looks at the ground, hands tapping the guitar body, like he's rummaging around in his head.

“The notes,” says Caleb. “You left one in San Francisco, one in Denver.” With each thing he says, his tone falls. “Far comet.”

Eli looks up. . . .

His eyes clear, like clouds parting. “Far comet . . .” The words slide quietly over his lips, like he's learning them again. “Oh my God, you mean
those
tapes. . . .” He glances to the ceiling, and finally finds a smile. It's broken and rusted, and gone in a moment, but it's there, a glimpse, the memories somewhere inside, a flash of reflection in the dark waters.

“You left one in the booth at Canter's,” says Caleb, “and then the other in the record.”

“
It's all about the vinyl
,” says Eli, his words coming back to him. “But that was . . . that was, so long ago.”

“Sixteen years,” says Caleb.

“I . . .” Eli's head drops. “I never thought . . . I'd . . .”

I wonder if he was about to say that he never thought he'd be
alive
to see those tapes.

We all stand there, breathing carefully.

“But,” Eli finally says. “What are you . . . how did you get here?”

“I saw you,” I say. “At Ten Below Zero last Friday. You were onstage. You played ‘Encore to an Empty Room.'”

Eli looks at me, like I'm a puzzle that he's trying to figure out. It seemed like he recognized me before. But now . . .

“You were waiting for us,” I add, “but then Jason showed up . . .”

“Jason,” suddenly Eli's tone sours. “Jerrod's son. So that
was
him. I knew I had to run, that it was a trap.” He shakes his head. “I never should have trusted Jerrod. They must have finally gotten to him.”

I grip Caleb's hand and steady my feet. I feel it in Eli's words, just like a moment ago with Susan. He's going to say more, and I'm not sure we want to hear it.

“I remember you,” Eli says to me, “but I didn't know, I . . .” He glances at Caleb and Val. “Jerrod told me we had something to discuss. Something that would change everything. I . . .” Eli's hands flash around in the air as he talks, his fingers flicking on each word. It's like his body is out of phase, the neurons and muscles cross-wired. “He said it was worth the risk. . . . I got to that bar and . . . I only decided to play songs because I was bored. Needed to keep my hands busy with all that temptation around. Liquor, smoke . . .” He rubs his hands together, now, like he's standing around a fire on a freezing night.

“Jerrod didn't tell you why he wanted to meet,” I say.

“I knew I shouldn't have listened to him.” Eli's voice rises. Focus slipping. “Sixteen years, you know? I've kept out of sight, got all my routines down. Hadn't stepped out of line more than once or twice, hadn't taken any risks. Now . . . my stuff's all in a storage locker, that bastard Kellen is out there somewhere, and . . .”

“Hold on,” says Caleb quietly. “You're saying you didn't come to New York to meet us?”

“Jerrod didn't tell me why,” Eli repeats. “He's using you guys, isn't he?” Eli starts nodding. “Kellen and Jerrod are using you, of course they are.”

“I think Jerrod was just trying to get you there to meet your kids,” I say carefully. “I think he was afraid to tell you why you were really coming, because you might . . .” I don't want to say
not show up,
or
run off instead,
because I don't want either of these fears confirmed for Caleb and Val.

But Eli continues like he didn't hear me. “They'd do anything to—Suze?” he calls into the mic, like she's the only thing he's sure of. In a life like Eli's, maybe that really is the case. “Did you check the cameras? Is Kellen out front? This is some kind of trick—”

“We're not a trick!” Val shouts. “We're your children! What the hell?”

Eli recoils, like he's avoiding a fist. His eyes widen for a moment, considering Caleb and Val again almost as if for the first time. . . .

“We're not working with Kellen,” says Caleb. “We've been looking for you on our own.” He swallows hard. “You have no idea what it took for us to get here.”

“Wait, no,” Eli says. “I didn't ask you to do anything. I don't mess up people's lives anymore, I don't wreck things. . . .” It sounds like something Eli's said to himself many times. He points at Caleb. “You were never supposed to know about me. . . .” His voice rises. Nearly shouting. “That was the deal! I disappear, make it all go away, and no one ever knows.”

“I didn't know!” Caleb shouts back. “Charity and Randy didn't tell me until I turned eighteen, last summer. I was going to
have
to know sooner or later, with the money Jerrod's been giving my mom. Same with Val. Jerrod's been making sure we get your royalties.”

“Sure, right, but this wasn't part of the deal,” Eli repeats, like the stickier sides of reality don't interest him. “Unknown, that was the promise. I can't let you down if I don't exist.”

“But you left those clues, the song tapes!” Caleb says. “Why did you leave that stuff if you didn't ever want us to find it?”

“I . . .” The idea stills him again. “It's not . . .”

“We thought you were leaving us a trail,” says Val.

“It wasn't a trail,” says Eli. “It was a memory. Back then, I just wanted you to have those last songs so that you could remember me, someday. I thought I'd be gone for
real. I never meant for you to drive across the country, or whatever you did. Or to fly here. Kellen probably followed you. That's how he ended up on my doorstep. . . .”

“Wait, hold on.” Val uncoils, her venom back. “Don't blame us for this! You're responsible for this, too. Whether you like it or not, you're our dad. Maybe we wouldn't have come here if we'd ever heard from you,
ever
in the last
our-entire-fucking-lives!
Sorry to ruin your little fantasy recording session but this is your life
. We're
a part of your life, whether you like it or not!”

“No, no.” He waves a hand at Val like she's started speaking in another language. “I left that life behind, it was best for everyone. . . . You all knew that. You knew . . . You . . .” He shakes his head. Then snaps back up. “Where are the tapes now?”

“Why do you even care?” asks Caleb.

Eli stands. “Do you have them? They need to be destroyed. We'll get a magnet, some water . . .” He puts the guitar on its stand, and starts patting at his shirt as if he might actually have a magnet on him.

“We gave them up,” I say. “In order to get the money to fly here.”

“Gave them up. Wait, you
sold
the tapes? My last recordings?”

“A minute ago you barely even remembered them,” Val mutters.

“There can't be any recordings!” Eli looks pleadingly
up at the ceiling. “Permanence leads to punishment, to pain. Have to
erase
those tapes. Who has them?”

I know what that answer is going to lead to, but I say it anyway. “Candy Shell.”

Eli rocks back and forth. “Oh, oh, that's rich.” He staggers almost like he's been drinking, and rubs both hands through his hair. “That's perfect. You gave the bastards exactly what they've been after all along. You broke the silence. Ruined it! And now . . . you brought them here hot on your trail, and you want me to be
glad
to see you?” He storms off a few steps into the dark, accidentally kicking the leg of the floor tom as he goes. It topples over with a hollow thunk
.

“I did everything you wanted!” he shouts into the dark. Then he whirls back and gazes up at the glass of the control room window. “I got lost! That was my job! To make everyone's lives better by not being. And all I wanted in return was to be invisible. To never be found.”

“Eli.” Susan steps from the shadows by the door. “Eli, try to calm down. It's not like that.”

He glares at her. “
You
did this. You set me up.”

“I'm just trying to help,” says Susan.

“But I . . .” Caleb is shaking. His eyes are rimmed with tears. So are mine. Everything feels smashed. Shards all around us. “I wanted to know you. You're my dad. I have a band, and music . . .”

“I don't want to know.” Eli talks fast. He lunges toward
the sound baffles. Grabs his denim jacket hanging there. “Nope. I don't want to know this. When I know something, when it's mine . . . I break it. Everything I've ever had. That's what happens. You don't want to know me.”

He is storming past us.

“Dad . . . ,” Val shouts.

“Eli . . . ,” Susan calls.

Caleb is silent.

But Eli doesn't stop. “I'm supposed to stay lost!” he shouts at the walls.

And he bangs open the door.

And he is gone.

1:32 a.m.

“Dammit,” says Susan. “I'll go get him. Don't leave.”

She rushes out.

“Where the hell would we even go?” Val says to the closing door.

I wrap my arms around Caleb. “I'm sorry,” I whisper. “I'm so, so sorry.”

He laughs lightly, but I can feel his tears on my cheek. “We should have known.”

“Do you really think he didn't know we were coming?” Val asks.

Caleb pulls away from me. “For us, everything with the tapes happened last week. For him, it was sixteen years
ago.” He steps toward the drum set, looking like he might kick over another piece of it. But he stands still.

“Jerrod must have known how fragile he was,” I say. “That he'd react like this. I just assumed that seeing Eli in New York meant that he knew about you guys, about us following his trail, but it sounds like he didn't know about any of that.”

“Sitting on the plane, I was imaging that he'd been watching us from afar,” says Caleb. “That maybe my whole life, he'd had an eye on me. And like, when the news broke, connecting us, and then he saw what gigs we were playing, he put it all together . . . but no.” Caleb looks around. “I think he was just lost in his perfect little world.”

I don't know that it's perfect. But I don't say that right now.

“Susan was trying,” I say instead. “Everyone in Eli's life thought it was right to help us get here, that it wasn't just good for us, it would also be good for him.” I glance at the door. “Susan will bring him back. I know she will. He just has to get a grip.”