I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience sometimes when I see them walking as a group. I can see me, and even Bed following behind them. I can smell the leather from Brad’s jacket, hear Jez torturing Marius, Sebastian whispering to Cadence and making her laugh.
How quickly we became attached to them all. But life has gone on without us.
The heaviness descends, and I look over at Ben, struggling with one hand to cram the pizza into his mouth so he can go back to playing.
Then suddenly, there’s a familiar sound from the TV. And a familiar face.
I turn up the volume on the news just in time for Ben to look and squeal. “It’s Uncle Brad! And Uncle Marius and Uncle Sebastian and Uncle Jez!”
And it is. Wearing clown costumes and playing at a children’s ward at a local hospital.
I’m glued to the screen, as the footage cuts to them playing the opening to Debussy’s “Clair de Lune,” lulling the children into a blissful state before cutting to the Wiggles’ “Hot Potato.” The group of children crowd around them in an array of pajamas and hospital gowns and cheer and dance, while Cadence and Hailey make the movements for them to copy.
There’s so much joy that it palpitates off the screen.
The footage then cuts to a reporter pulling Brad aside to interview him.
“What do you think of these kids, huh?”
“They’re amazing, each and every one of them. We come here to get inspiration on how to live our lives, with commitment and gratitude and to be reminded to make each day, each moment count.”
“But there are so many places you guys could play and would be welcome, I bet.”
“Maybe, but because of a very special little boy, we were reminded that there’s a special place in our hearts for these kids.”
“Oooh, can we know who that is?”
“For sure, his name is Ben Butter. And he’s the bravest little boy you ever met. I hope he’s watching. Hey Benny Boy! We miss you so much and we hope to see you soon-without your cast. You better be eating your veggies!”
“I’m sure he is,” the reporter laughs.
Ben and I turn to each other, mouths open. His eyes light up with a thousand stars, just like his night light. And he jumps into my arms. Sobbing and laughing all at once.
My boy, my little boy, what have I done? I’m going to fix it. Mommy’s going to fix it.
***
BRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGGGG!
My phone ringing at 7 a. m. a few days later wakes me much too early.
I debate ignoring it, knowing that Ben is safe in the next room. Not much else matters. The caller hangs up. Then rings back.
“Arghhhhh!” I scream into my pillow and grab my phone, answering it without looking. “Hello?”
“You fucking bitch.”
It’s Silas. And even with just those few words, he sounds drunk. At 7 a. m. I brace myself. I haven’t heard from him since the other night. I knew he’d be too careful to get in touch with me too soon, and I was taking advantage of the time to figure out my next move.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you would do this to me. After everything we’ve been through, this is low,” he spits.
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
“I don’t…”
“Like I don’t know you used your little contacts with the paper to print this? You make me…you make me into a monster. You send Brad here to make that deal and then this is your parting shot?”
“Silas, what are you talking about? What about Brad?” The mention of his name has my skin sparking into life.
“Shut up, you lying slut!”
“That’s it! Don’t you ever call me again, you hear? I have had enough of your fucking abuse. Don’t expect to see me for work. Don’t expect me to ever answer your call. I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, and I don’t care. I just care that I never see you again!”
I hang up. Scared and relieved and nervous all at once, shaking with the emotions running though me, my nerves like naked wires zapping with electricity through my entire body.
I dial a number on my phone and pull the covers over my head.
“Mom? Can you come over please? I’m scared.”
***
“That. That’s what he’s all strung up about.”
My mother throws a pile of papers onto the coffee table. I hand her a cup of tea and she sinks down onto the couch.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” she asks me.
“The incident or the headlines?”
“Both.”
I grab the tabloid on top of the pile. There are gray, grainy pictures of Silas and me, in the parking lot of the club the other night. It’s dark and the picture is pixelated, but it’s clear that he has a strong hold of my throat and I’m trying to push him away, looking scared. The headline plastered across the page read “Fallen Rockstar? Nothing Gentle About This Gentleman.” The article writes an embellished account of what must have appeared to an observer as Silas chasing me down and trying to force himself on me.
And only letting go when the bouncer intervened.
Seeing the picture brings back the experience. A shiver runs through my body. I drop the paper and wrap my jacket tighter around me. My mom notices and gets up, hugging me tight. Her warm touch penetrates the wall I’ve been building around myself, my feelings, and they come crashing down.
“Oh Mom! I made such a big mistake!”
“Oh honey. It’s okay whatever it is. It can be fixed.”
“I don’t know if it can, Mom. Maybe it’s too late. Maybe it was just never meant to be.”
“Hogwash. The only thing that’s meant to be is how much you want something. The rest is up to you.”
She brushes the tears from my eyes and not for the first time I wonder if I’ll ever be as good a mother as she is.
***
After six grueling weeks, it’s finally time for Ben’s cast to come off. He seems subdued the entire ride to the hospital, cradling the cast as if he were going to miss it. Running his fingers along the words and pictures drawn to wish him well, he smiles as he comes to the figures that the band drew.
“Mommy, do you think I’ll be able to keep that cast?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know, honey. It might be a bit smelly. But maybe we can see if we can salvage at least some of it, okay?”
“I miss him.” We both know who he means.
“I know. I do too.”
“I wish he were here.”
“Me too, honey. Me too.” I kiss the top of his head, and decide not to lie and tell him that the feeling will go away.
We’re called into a room and the doctor comes in almost immediately.
“Oh, Ms. Butter, hello. Hi, Ben.”
“Hi, Mr. Doctor!”
“And um, is Ben’s father still outside or…?” The doctor asks, turning toward the door.
“Oh. Um, no. We aren’t…no, he’s not coming.”
“Are you sure? I just saw him.”
“What?” The fear instantly rises and I grab Ben’s good arm protectively, slightly panicked.
“Yes, I saw him outside. He said he would be in here for Ben’s cast removal.”
“No. He’s…I didn’t know he was here.”
“Yes, he’s a nice fellow. A bit enthusiastic. He was just talking about their next performance at that big festival next week.”
“Oh, I didn’t know they were playing. Is it the RockFever Fest?” Maybe The String Flingers had managed to get a spot after all.