Redemption Song (3 page)

Standing a good six and a half feet tall, Ted was an African American man with a surly brow and muscles that threatened to break the seams of his jet black suit coat. To say that he was intimidating would be an understatement. Ethan glanced up toward Ted. The bodyguard’s eyes never shifted. Ethan could barely even hear him breathing. Ted didn’t budge an inch until the Escalade came to a stop at the entrance of the airport. Then, he grabbed Ethan’s suitcase, and stood outside the door, convincing Ethan that if a statue was ever made of a
Men in Black
character, it would look exactly like Ted.

Ethan let out one last exasperated sigh, popped two of the extra strength Tylenol he had swiped from Bruce’s “man bag” on the way there, and crawled reluctantly out onto the busy sidewalk.

On with phase two.

The plane ride to Birmingham was not quite what Ethan had expected. He realized his mom was mad when she insisted on banishing him to po-dunk USA for an indefinite time span, but he didn’t realize just how mad she was until he got ready to board the plane at LAX. Ted had followed behind like a well trained puppy while Ethan made his way through the airport, being forced to slow down every two steps to sign an autograph or take a picture with a girl who was so obsessed with him, she couldn’t even say hi without squealing and tearing up. Ethan hated that. The girls were cute, and they didn’t seem like they would be such basket cases, but it was always the same story, no matter where he went. They all acted the same, dressed the same . . . flirted the same.

That’s why Ethan preferred a private jet when he needed to travel long distances. It was much less invasive. But in this situation, just to keep from having to call his mom to argue, he would settle for the commercial jet. Ethan couldn’t wait until he was seated in his big cushy first-class chair, a cold sparkling water in his hands and a hot towel behind his neck, and had the chance to lay back and relax the rest of his hangover away.

There was only one problem with this little scenario. Ethan’s mother had planned for that, too. Relaxing was the last thing he was going to get to do. Instead, he reached the terminal to find out that his mom had booked him a seat in . . . COACH. Ethan got stuck between silent Ted and smelly Bob, a man who took up enough space that he technically should have bought two tickets.

It was a
long
flight.

Ethan spent the entire flight hidden inside the hood of his oversized sweatshirt, which was somewhat of an attention grabber in itself considering it was mid-June. His dark glasses never budged an inch. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to give a concert to the passengers midflight. After a couple of hours, Ethan was finally able to exit the plane into the Birmingham International Airport. Not surprisingly, his Tylenol had worn off at this point and the stabbing pain in his forehead was swiftly returning.

“So . . . Ted . . .” Ethan began as his bodyguard pulled the last piece of their luggage off the conveyer belt. “Where to now? Do we have a car rented already or do we need to find an Enterprise?”

Even though Ethan had asked him a question, he was still a little surprised when silent Ted voiced his reply.

“Mr. Carter, I believe our ride is already waiting on us.” Ted gave a slight nod toward the doorway of baggage claim.

When Ethan caught sight of the man Ted was referring to, he almost laughed, realizing that this was not only the first time he’d ever heard Ted speak, but also the first time he’d ever heard Ted tell a joke. He was a funny guy.

But then Ethan took a closer look at the man in the doorway. He was tall and lanky, and wore a plaid button up shirt underneath a pair of partially unbuttoned denim overalls. What was that he was holding? A sign? The words were written in . . . crayon?

Welcome . . . (the penmanship was terrible) . . . Welcome Ethan . . . Carter.

“Oh, crap.”

Ethan dropped his suitcase, leaving it behind for Ted, and ran to the man holding the sign, with his all too famous name on it, for the entire airport to see.

“What’s the matter with you, man? Are you crazy!” Ethan was panting by the time he reached the man. He took a brief moment to clumsily readjust the hood of his sweatshirt again before reaching up and snatching the resemblance of a kindergarten craft project out of the man’s hand and folding it in half, attempting to remove any evidence of his arrival. “You can’t just go around announcing that I’m here. If the paparazzi receive word that I’m in Alabama, they’ll invade the place.”

“Ah, sorry bout that Mr. Carter, but . . . uh . . . your granny had that sign made speshlly for ya and she told me ta bring it. Kept sayin somethin bout how your mom wanted ya to have a proper welcome or somethin like that.”

The man had one of the strongest Southern accents Ethan had ever heard.

“Yeah, that sounds like my mom, alright,” Ethan muttered bitterly. Ted reached his side, and sat his suitcase back down.

“I’m Ted, Ethan’s bodyguard.” Ted smiled kindly to the man and stretched out his hand. “Thank you very much for agreeing to meet us here on such short notice.”

“Notta problem tal, sir. I’d do anything for Granny Mae. A famly member a hers, is a famly member a mine. We didn’t even know Granny Mae hada famous famly! Name’s Hank, by the way. Hank Hinkle.”

Ethan snorted, trying hard not to let out a mocking laugh, but covered it up as though he was trying to suppress a cough. “So, uh, Mr. Hinkle,” Ethan began.

“No, no, boy! You call me Hank. Mr. Hinkle was my father!”

“Okay . . . Hank. Where is your car? I’m kind of exhausted and I’m looking forward to catching some zzz’s on the ride to Fairhope.”

“Oh, we got somethin way better than a car, Mr. Ethan,” An elated grin spread across Hank’s cheeks, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “When your momma called, she said you liketa fly when you go places, and bi-gollies, she asked for me personally to come fetch ya! I was so honored. I never flown any famous people fore.

“She said that, did she?” Ethan gritted his teeth. This couldn’t be good. There was no way that his mother was going to arrange a comfortable plane ride for him in the mood she was in. There had to be a catch. “I guess this is a lucky day for both of us.”

Ethan tried to look on the bright side. How bad could Hank’s plane possibly be? He imagined it had to be fairly small, but at this point, as long as he had room to lay his head back and catch a few minutes of sleep, it would be plenty big enough. Besides, it had to be better than the four hours it would have taken to travel by car.

But after about a two mile hike to the small private runway that sat to the side of the huge airport, Ethan realized that he could not have been more wrong. When he caught sight of Hank’s “plane”, Ethan became fully aware of just how ticked off his mother really was.

“Uh, Hank . . . what is that thing?”

The plane had two wings directly parallel, one on top of the other. Two little wheels extended out from beneath the body, and it had
no ceiling
! Two holes were visible in the top of the body that the passengers were expected to climb into. The plane looked like it had flown right off the pages of an American history book.

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she? This right here is called a biplane,” Hank voiced proudly. “Been in the famly for yers.”

“So you were related to Amelia Earhart?”

Hank laughed, not catching the fact that Ethan’s comment hadn’t been a compliment.

“Yea, the girl’s a lil’ old, but she’s still gotta lot left in her,” Hank ran his fingers along the plane’s body beside the propeller. I guess you aughta hop on in so we can get goin. Your granny’s gonna be waitin on ya if we don’t step on it quick.”

Ethan glanced back up at Ted, hoping that by some miracle he felt as nervous as Ethan did about crawling into the 1920’s hunk of metal, but it was to no avail. Ted had already picked up Ethan’s suitcase, flung it into the front hole of the plane, and was beginning to climb in.

“Ted you can’t be serious, man. This isn’t a plane! It’s a kayak with wings!”

Ted remained silent, but Ethan thought he caught the slightest hint of amusement in his expression. Ethan was nearing panic mode, but if he was anything, a whimp he was not. If silent Ted could do it, then so could he. Ethan reached a hand up to grab hold of the plane and hoist himself into the pit that would be his seat, but then he realized which hole he was about to crawl into.

“Uh . . . Ted . . . shouldn’t we be sitting in the back?”

Hank answered for him. “Not less ya wanna drive cuz that’s where the steerin wheel is.”

“Never mind. I’m good.”

Ethan paused to suck in one last deep breath before hoisting himself up into the plane to claim his seat beside silent Ted. He had never been afraid of flying, but he had also never ridden in a plane that didn’t have a roof. So much for catching a few minutes of sleep. Granted, Ethan’s eyes would be shut, but it definitely wouldn’t be due to sleeping. Hank jumped into the plane with ease, passed a helmet to both Ted and Ethan (
a helmet??
), and flipped a few switches. The propeller puttered and spat in protest, but finally roared to life like a bumblebee on steroids.

“Here we go!” Hank cried with excitement from the back.

Yep
, Ethan thought as the plane began its trek down the runway. He squeezed his eyes tight and gripped the edges of his seat to the point his knuckles turned white.
Here we go
.

Ethan

By the time the Biplane buzzed onto the Sunny Calahaun runway near Fairhope, Ethan had reached full blown mental hysteria.

Number one: at that very moment, he should have been in his dressing room at the Staples Center gearing up for his show. Number two: he had just flown over one-hundred miles in a piece of tin piloted by the long lost cousin of Elmer Fudd, with nothing to protect his head but something that slightly resembled a bicycle helmet. And lucky number three: the last five minutes of his death ride had restored in his mind all of the reasons why he’d hated visiting Fairhope past the age of twelve.

Fairhope, Alabama was the hometown of Ethan’s mom’s mom, otherwise known as Granny Mae. The town was located on the edge of Mobile Bay, a small inlet off the Gulf of Mexico, and was a good four hour drive from the airport. Fairhope was a small community of about eight hundred people tops, which more resembled the population of a department store in Ethan’s bustling hometown of New York City. Ethan had always thought Fairhope was pretty, but it was far too quiet for him . . . too country. Everyone moved at such a slow pace, and in Ethan’s eyes, Fairhope was the black hole of the Alabama coastline. It was one of those rare places that seemed to suck in the people who visited, making it so that they never left. Other than maybe a few enchanting sunsets, Ethan didn’t understand everyone’s attraction to the town because there wasn’t anything to do there. The thought of a night club was an absolute joke. There wasn’t even a movie theatre without having to drive to a completely different county.

Large farm land stretched out on the other three sides of the small town. The streets were quiet, a few vehicles passing slowly here and there. There were no tall buildings, no florescent lights, and no flashing marquees. It was simple. It was quaint.

It was boring.

“Looky there, Mr. Carter!” Hank bellowed from behind in the cockpit. “Your granny just pulled up. That was perfect timin’!”

Ethan sighed and slipped out an unenthusiastic, “Lucky me.”

The landing was interesting to say the least. There’s nothing like zooming nose first toward a concrete pad in a tin kayak. When Hank finally brought the plane to a complete stop, Ethan was tempted to jump out and kiss the ground beneath him.

Once Ted removed the bags from the plane, Ethan forced himself to turn and face the grandmother that he had refused to visit for the past five years. He assumed she would be short with him, probably mad that he hadn’t found opportunities in his busy schedule to spend time with his family. She probably felt the same way his mother did. Probably thought he was full of himself and didn’t care for things like family anymore. It was nothing like that. He was just busy, that’s all.

When Ethan’s gaze finally met Granny Mae’s, he was shocked at the expression he found being returned. Granny Mae’s lips stretched from ear to ear and her entire face lit up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree.

“Ethan! Welcome, honey! I have missed you so much!” Granny ran (if you could call that a run) to Ethan and pulled him into a squeeze surprisingly tight for a woman of her age. “Good grief, dear boy, you are skin and bones! Don’t they feed you on that tour bus?”

Ethan pulled back quickly, ashamed of her eager forgiveness. He knew he should have visited his grandmother before now. She looked older than the last time he'd been in Fairhope. Obviously, she had aged five years, but it wasn’t just that. She looked older. Not as healthy. The area around her eyes folded in wrinkles and her skin was thin and looked easy to tear. He wondered for a brief moment if she was in good health.

“Nice to see you, Grandma,” Ethan voiced quietly, a hint of shame in his tone.

“Grandma?”

“I mean Granny Mae.”

“Hmm.”

Ethan took off toward Ted, trying to ignore Granny Mae’s confused glare that he could feel radiating through his back as he walked. He didn’t get far before he was intercepted.

“OH MY GOSH! It really is you!” A little boy jumped out of Granny Mae’s beat up old Plymoth and ran up to Ethan before he even knew what was happening. The kid looked to be about nine or ten. He was about a foot shorter than Ethan and had dark curly waves that hung from the edges of a beat up red ball cap that rested firmly on his head.

“Granny Mae told me you were coming, but I didn’t believe her!” the boy voiced with excitement. “She likes to kid with me, sometimes, but, wow, you really are here! My name’s Ben, by the way. Benjamen, actually, but you can call me Ben. Can I call you Ethan? You know, you don’t know this yet, but I bet we become best friends before long. I’m kinda awesome like that. I’m not being conceited or anything, I’m just being truthful. People love me. I don’t know why, I guess just some people got it, and some people don’t. Oh, and don’t worry about anybody finding out you’re in town. Granny told me you would want to keep it a secret and you’re in luck cause I’m great at keeping secrets!”