HARMONY

Part 44 "Drew and Steve hit bottom"

The inmates inched forward and prepared for the strip search. Drew let out a slow breath. Looking at the barren cement wall in front of him, Drew listened for the sounds of trouble. Sometimes, it was a rattle of their martin chains, other times it was words exchanged. Grunts from knuckle draggers Drew would tell himself in his constant struggle to maintain his separation and sanity.

The doors to the visiting room cranked open, releasing the biting florescent light. The inmates inched forward. Muffled sounds of happiness greeted each boy as they peeled away and met their family across the flat metal tables.

Michelle reached around her son with an aching hug. "You look good," she whispered. Behind her stood Russ, Rosalia and Claire. After everyone embraced, they sat. They stared. They waited.

"Trial is in two weeks," Rosalia began. "And we've had an interesting development." She nodded at Claire.

With a smile Claire said, "So, we found out who actually, like, did it and Sophia and me got hard evidence."

"Oh God," Drew said. "My case rests on hard evidence from you and Sophia?"

"Not exactly," Rosalia said. "But we have enough to request a search warrant so we can legally," she smiled at Claire, "legally gather supporting evidence to show you were not the rapist."

Michelle's body tightened at the word, but Rosalia continued to fill Drew in on the latest developments.

"What about Bruce?" Drew said, showing no sign of relief. "I'm still on the hook for that, right?"

"But we have a more complete story to tell," Rosalia said. "Together with the new evidence, his being completely intoxicated, for instance, and your now proven intent to help Rachel—"

"What if the jury doesn't believe me?" He whispered. "What if they think I tried to kill him?"

"Ya," Claire said. "And what if he like totally dies?"

"Claire," Michelle said.

"Well, it's not like everyone comes outta a coma and suddenly remembers the truth." Claire snapped her gum. "I mean, like, this isn't a movie."

"It's a nightmare," Drew said and he stood to leave.

"Don't leave," Michelle said. "It's good for us to talk about this. Please, sit."

Drew slumped back in his seat. "Where the fuck is Dad?"

***

Rex tucked the knife back into his belt. He stood over Steve. Steve looked up and blinked to focus in the darkness. He recognized the sounds of the warm-up band roadies scrambling across the stage to disassemble their equipment—while Vance spewed directions.

"Why'd you cut that cord?" Steve said. "They're about to go on."

"I didn't cut no cord," Rex said. "You did. You fucked up the whole bass amp."

Steve stood and brushed his hands on his jeans. "Look. I know you're not happy about me helping with the finances, but it's good for everybody. And this," he pointed at the severed cord, "is bullshit."

Sour breath pushed into Steve's face. "You're bullshit."

More equipment rolled past. Steve placed his hands on his hips and looked back at the cut cord. "Grow up," he said. "What do you think this is going to accomplish except a delay in the concert opening?"

Rex pulled the knife from his belt. "Next time, won't be no cord I'm slicing into."

A voice froze Steve. "Get the fuck off my stage."

Steve and Rex turned to see Vance.

Vance pointed. "Right fucking now," he said. "Don't come back."

Rex's face glared at Steve with a look that promised death. Rex tucked his knife slowly back into his belt and walked off.

"He cut the Amp—" Steve pointed to the severed cord.

"I know," Vance said. He bent over and began pulling at the frayed edges. "Saw him."

"Do you want me to—"

"No."

"Can I—"

"No." Vance stood up. "Watch your back."