It's So Easy | Buddy Holly

Dorothy

February 1st, 1959. Riverside ballroom, Green Bay, Wisconsin. 10:52 pm

Buddy walks into the dressing room and leans against the wall, slowly sliding down to the ground. "I've never been so tired."

"I'm sorry, honey." I mumble putting my head down onto the counter.

Buddy weakly laughs. "You've never called me that."

"I know." I close my eyes and sigh.

"Vi?"

"Hmmm?"

"D'ya think we should charter a plane?"

I quickly sit up and look at him. "No! Are you crazy?!"

"What? Why can't we? We got the money."

I stand up and cross my arms. "No."

"Why?"

"Because it's dangerous! Small planes mixed with bad weather and our continuous nightmares? No. Bad idea." I'm trying not to yell.

He looks up at me. "Those were just nightmares."

I shake my head. "You know where we're going to be tomorrow?"

"Iowa?"

"Yes. You know whats in Iowa?"

"Uh, nothin'?"

"Corn fields. You know what else?"

"What?"

"Snow! Snow covered corn fields? Small planes?"

His eyes go wide. "Oh, shit. Yeah."

"You are not getting on a plane. I am not going to die at 22."

He looks confused. This is one of the, if not the, first time I've been so insistent on something that came from him. We always agree.

"I will not be a widow at 22." I feel my face turning hot. I hate arguing.

"You wouldn't be..."

"No. No planes."

"C'mon, this is terrible!" He stands up. "The bus keeps breakin' down, it's freezin'..."

"You know what else is terrible?! Losing my husband when he's not even 25!"

"You could be on the plane, too."

I shake my head again. "No! I've been through too fucking much only to die in a plane crash."

"Can we atleast see?"

"You can see, but we won't be taking any planes until this tour is over and we go back to New York."

"Fine." He rolls his eyes. "Why are you so paranoid?"

"Because! I've already explained this. I'm done having this conversation with you. No planes." I say, opening the dressing room door and leaving.

I try to find the backstage bathroom, but I can't find one. I just decide to head out into the public one to calm down. Maybe some other women will somehow calm me. I've been around men almost exclusively and I might just punch one of them.

I wander out to the lobby and slip into the bathroom. There's a group of three teenage girls standing in front of three of the five mirrors. Thank God there's extra mirrors.

I walk up to the last one and look at my reflection. My face is draining of the bright red and I notice my eyes start to water. Before I know it, I'm borderline sobbing.

One of the girls walks up to me. "Hey, are you okay? What's wrong?" She asks.

I shake my head. "I got into a dumb argument with my husband. We never argue." I manage to choke.