"F!": My Grungey Seattle Adventure (With My Besty and With Mudhoney)

24: 'The Farther I Go'

7:42

REX

I'm on my way to Pike Place Market. I just made a quick stop at Walgreen's to buy Holly some medicine and back to the apartment to give it to her. Oddly, she doesn't seem to be the least bit sick, just a little shaken by the positive test result. And to be honest, I'm almost certain it's a false positive. It may be a little too soon to tell, though, so I'm playing it safe for now.

It's getting dark as I drive past the glistening Space Needle. I think about Holly sitting alone in my apartment. When I came to deliver her medicine and some snacks, she looked kind of dejected, but was putting effort into looking grateful with a forced smile. I told her she can listen to some CD's while Elliot and I are gone, but I can't imagine her having enough spirit to do after all that has happened.

Speaking of Elliot; he's currently driving around looking for Lukin, as I am, on the other side of town in Capitol Hill, I believe. I imagine him checking out all the hardware stores and smoke shops, places Lukin might be seen, being more productive than I. After all, he has been searching for longer than I because of my drugstore detour. And, can I just say, the fact that he even agreed to do this is totally against the lukewarm roommate I know. I'm starting to think he likes Holly or something... I guess we'll see.

So I'm supposed to keep my eyes peeled for a man in a hospital gown. It's difficult, because I can hardly keep them open right now. I lost a lot of sleep last night thinking about Holly's visit, and on top of that, it's just been a long-ass day. I'm trying to imagine how hard it must be for Holly; after an airplane ride, the bullshit with the rental car, Lukin's fall, and all that time wasted in the hospital, she must be beat! At least she has time now to rest, although being quarantined in a little apartment seems like the last thing she wants for herself right now.

I let out a yawn that brings tears to my eyes, making the city lights glimmer and glare even more.  I'm seldom seen out driving at this time of day, as most of my rehearsals take place earlier, and then there are my occasional evening performances and film shoots. So the change in environment and the beautiful sunset provide a moment of appreciation for my city which I haven't enjoyed in quite some time.

As I wipe my eyes dry, I try thinking about where I would go if I were Matt Lukin...

...Home, obviously. But I have no clue where the man lives, and I'm not about to drive through Seattle's suburbs like a creep. That wouldn't get me anywhere. Trouble, maybe, but I'm not a creep. Or a cop, for that matter, and I'm certainly not qualified to search for a missing COVID patient. Besides, how would Lukin get across town so fast by foot and without experiencing another coughing fit that would send him keeling over? He's not at his house, he can't be. 

I continue cruising down 1st Avenue. The more I think about this whole situation, the more confused I am. None of this makes any sense! Where the hell could he be but on the verge of dying in an alley somewhere? Or worse...

Okay, stop imagining the worst case scenario. In the best case scenario -- If I were Matt -- where would I be? I think I would go to...

A bar. Agh, come to think of it, he'd probably be thrown out by now, I think as I turn into Post Avenue. Why would any bartender serve somebody in a hospital gown? Still, something pulls me toward what I imagine to be a crowded, air-conditioned paradise.

I've played in this bar before, once to fill in for my friend Eli's band's singer. I wasn't bad, I must say. Singing's always come pretty natural to me, and though I'm no vocalist, I like to sing and think of myself as a pretty capable vocalist. I had to improvise a bit that night, I remember, because of my unfamiliarity with the material, but Eli and the guys said it made no difference. 

As I reminisce on that night a bit, I find myself a parking spot and walk into the pub. I don't even drink, but the idea of wandering into a random bar on a night like this feels charmingly fictional. Sometimes I just like to feel stranded, although I never really am.

The strange newness of the space trumps the familiar feeling I expected to have. I guess this pub has developed a bit since I last came, though not much. The vibe is more different than the   appearance. That night two years ago, it felt like another sweaty bar gig. Tonight, it just feels like an Irish pub during a global pandemic. I guess that's what it's supposed to be, though. Or what is really is, anyway. but for some reason I feel just slightly disappointed and underwhelmed. It's like the lights are too bright, there aren't enough people, and the music isn't loud enough.

I look to see that there actually is a band playing, though nobody I know. The trio of older men playing folky Irish tunes aren't really part the scene I'm familiar with. I lock eyes with the bartender who is about to speak to me, but only for a split second during a double take between them and the bar television. Lukin's on the news.

"Could you turn that up a little bit?" I ask the bartender, frantically toward the T.V. 

He nods and I listen hard to hear the news anchor speak above the music and chatter that seemed way too quiet a moment ago.

"...escapee is confirmed to be Matt Lukin, former bass player of the iconic Seattle band, Mudhoney. Paramedic Katjanna Lucero, who arrived on the scene of his fall, explains how it all went down."

So this is the chick --

"When I arrived in the ambulance, he was on the ground over there..." Katj gestures behind her, a colorful mural looming over that spot on the ground. Holly's gotta see this. I take out my phone and begin to film the television, before my camera decides to stop because "Storage full", dammit.

"...girl is kneeling by his side, says she's an EMT in the state of... Kentucky or something." Kansas City, I mentally correct. Missouri. "She shows me her papers, I let her in the ambulance, and I had an EMT-in-training today, so Holly --  that's the girl's name -- tells him everything he's doing wrong, like... she saved his life," Katj breathes.

So that's what happened. I can't help but beam at this description of my friend on the news. 

The anchor reappears on screen. "Lucero claims that the woman and Lukin have a personal connection."

Shit. The screen goes back to Katjanna at Pike Place.

"I said, 'Do you know this man?' and she tells me she does; she's visiting a friend here, she flew in this morning from Kansas." Wrong again! "Like, what are the odds? She saved his life. She's a guardian angel. Other people would've just walked by, some."

A guardian angel, huh? Well, I'm glad Katjanna didn't go into details about Holly and Matt's apparent "personal connection." I sigh and take a seat at the bar, eyes still locked on the T.V. screen, anticipating more information about the disappearance when the news anchor speaks again. "There will be more about Lukin's escape and disappearance up next."

I see the volume bar appear as the bartender lowers the sound. I turn to him, and see that he's peering at me under blond, curly bangs. "Anything I can do for you, sir?"

"Uh, can I just get some water?" I croak, realizing how much I sound like I need that H2O.

"Sure thing," he replies, and I nod in thanks.

I take in a deep breath and let the last of the adrenaline leave my body. Turning on the bar stool grants me a good view of the bar's crowd. Many appear to be watching the band's performance, and a few stomp and clap to the beat. I examine their faces to see if anyone I know is present, my gaze making its way toward the entrance. At that moment, a familiar figure makes his way through the door, masked, but not unrecognizable. It's Dan Peters.