HARMONY

Part "Being Possessed"

While Steve tries to escape into a life numbed by drugs and alcohol, he leaves his wife and kids to find their way... 

Steve opened and closed his fingers, mystified that they could actually hurt with such a simple movement. The two a.m. road bled by him through the dirty bus window. Again, he didn't know where they were going or when they'd get there. And again, he didn't care. He did know when they arrived, he would be assigned another menial and painful task. The more painful, the better; it numbed his brain.

He leaned his head against the seat hoping that exhaustion would drag him into a deep peace of unconsciousness. Instead, the endless march of family memories goose-stepped through his mind.

Steve leaned over and shook Vance's shoulder. "Hey," he whispered. "Got any Tylenol PM?"

One eyebrow raised slightly.

"Dude," Steve said. "Sorry, dude to stop your sleep, but I need a little something to help me, ya know, catch me some zzzzs."

Vance turned his back and curled into a tighter ball.

The bus bumped and thumped through the darkness and Steve tried to blank his mind. The harder he tried, the more he felt nauseous and alone.

"Really, dude," Steve said. He gave Vance's shoulder another tug. "It doesn't have to be Tylenol PM. I could take Excedrin PM or even a few Bayer aspirin."

Without a word, Vance dug into his pocket and handed Steve two little white pills.

"Thanks, dude."

 Steve soon learned the little white ones help you sleep and the little red ones keep you up. Day and night had no real meaning. Neither did time, place or money. The road felt like a large circle where they ended up at the same starting point doing the same show. Even the faces in the crowd formed the same patch-work quilt of groupies, stoners and one-night outers.

He found his nitch though—gaffing the snake. He hoped for a promotion to equipment moving and maybe cord rolling. A few stolen conversations with Sparrow kept his spirits up, but his only fleeting spaces of peace came when the band played. The music rolled across his mind as a tsunami of sound, drowning all thoughts and saturating his core. Here, he felt both whole and empty. Both sane and insane. Both loved and hated. He felt so painfully, wonderfully alone.

The house lights flashed on, signaling the crowd to leave, security to form their wall and the roadies to break down the stage. Like drawing a revolver from his holster, Steve pulled out his knife. He popped two little red ones and began his work. His blade almost cut into a pink converse.

"Whoa," Steve said. "Sorry. Didn't hear you come up."

Sparrow crouched down beside him and tossed her sparkling brunette hair over her shoulder. "Hard to hear anything after a show."

Steve looked into her young and radiant face. God I'd love to have just one night with this woman. Even just an hour. He smiled to himself. Shit, it'd be five minutes if I was lucky. "Ya, the ahhh, the ears take a little time to shake out." I'm an idiot. Ears shake out?

But she gave a giggle and rubbed her hand along the tight denim thigh. "A little bird told me that you were like some big time finance guy in another life."

"A long time ago in a far away land."

"Maybe you're my prince charming."

Steve glanced around. "I wouldn't say that." He bent back down to his task.