Jay nodded and started the song. They all listened carefully, but Randy kept his gaze on Rick as the song played.
“I can tell by the look on your face, now you can see what I’ve been bitching about all this time.”
“What the hell? How does he do that? It’s all wrong.”
“I know, I know,” Randy nodded. “It’s just bizarre. He absolutely refused to do it the way we wanted, he was convinced he was making it better.”
“Huh, I guess I should have listened to you.”
“Jay, is it too late to redo the bass?” Jay shook his head. “Ricky, think you can do better?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Great, and while you’re at it, we’ll go ahead and add your vocals everywhere they should have been.”
And that’s how Randy won the battle, and Todd Henderson was no longer involved with
Slave to the Night
. Rick spent the next week in the studio rerecording. He started to feel like he
was
a slave to the night, he spent so many hours with Jay, redoing and remixing most of the songs on the album.
By the end of the week his bottle of pills meant to last a month was empty, and he still had no name for his song. He called his doctor, but the refill came with a strong warning that the pills had to last a whole month this time. Rick knew that once he was back home and not working every day, the pain would be easier to manage and he wouldn’t need so many pills. He also discovered, thanks to Bob, the night security guard, that a few lines of cocaine helped perk him up from the pain pills, and made him actually
want
to play, and Bob never ran short on supply.
The night they finished, their producer dropped Rick off at his dark house. Armed with a gram of coke and a bottle of Crown Royal, Rick figured it wouldn’t be wise to celebrate too much on an empty stomach, so he fixed himself a bowl of Ramen to go with his Crown and cocaine.
He took a piece of paper and pencil from the counter and started making a list of possible names for the song. Every time he wrote something down, he crossed it off within a minute. Nothing seemed to capture the emotion of the song. Erin always said it was haunting, and he did mention his haunted dreams in the song. That’s what they felt like, as though Shelby was a ghost, always just out of reach. Many nights he spent searching for her, only to come up empty, feeling he’d just missed her. He wrote
Haunted Dreams
on the list and circled it, took two more pills, and limped off to bed to chase her again.
The next morning, Devon called and broke the news that the song would not be on the new album. The record company had already spent too much money printing out album covers and cassette jackets. They refused to change it, and said it would have to wait for the next one.
~
With a towel wrapped around his waist, Rick wiped the fog from the vanity mirror with a washcloth. He combed his hair down over his eyes, but his bangs had grown so long, he had to push them to the side. The steam from the hot water fogged the corners of the mirror again as he prepared to shave. His skin had an unnatural pallor, but he figured that was from spending so much time indoors. From the other room, Devon shouted at him to hurry up.
“Trust me,” he yelled, “you could stay in there all day, and you’re not gonna get any prettier.”
“Just hold your horses,” Rick called back. “I gotta at least be presentable. Tonight will be the first chance I’ve had to get lucky in months, so don’t rush me.”
He wasn’t terribly anxious to be around so many people, accustomed now to spending time alone, enjoying his meds, and spending days in a fantasy land of his own making. But everyone expected him to attend the party, and if he didn’t, his friends would start watching him closely, and
that
he didn’t want. The opportunity to get laid at long last finally convinced him to go.
When he finished grooming and dressing, he joined Devon in the kitchen. Taking the bottle of pills from the counter, he removed four and shoved the container in his pocket. He chased them down with a swig from last night’s beer and pulled the stash bottle from his other pocket.
“You want a hit before we go?” he asked. Devon chuckled and took the vial from his hands. They took turns snorting from the little spoon attached to the lid.
“That shit is smooth! Where’d you get it?”
“You know Bob, the rent-a-cop at the studio? He’s got good connections.” It wasn’t only cocaine Bob was good for – he’d also been supplying Rick with Percocet for the last few weeks. Rick went to the refrigerator and took out a can of beer. He held it out, but Devon shook his head.
“I think I’ll wait till we get to the party.”
“Suit yourself,” Rick said, grabbing a second can and rising. “Are we ready?”
“I sure as hell hope so. I swear you’re as slow as a woman, Ricky.”
They headed outside to Devon’s car. Still not willing to drive, Rick depended on others to get him around, and so far, he always had an available driver. Once he settled inside, he latched his seatbelt and cracked open the first can of beer.
“Keith said he invited a lot of people, but I’m gonna be pissed if we get there and there’re no women.”
“Trust me. It’s gonna be a big party. I know Julia invited at least ten of her friends, and Keith did everything but take out an ad in the paper. You’ll find someone to get you off.”
“I hope so, ‘cause I’m so damn horny, I’d screw you if you weren’t married.”
Devon laughed. “Yeah, you just keep your distance buddy, we’ll find you somebody a little more sexy.”
Since Rick’s accident, everyone drove a little slower on the winding road to his house. Even though he was already pretty high, Rick couldn’t stop riding the imaginary brake at his feet and gripping the door handle. Seeing his anxiousness, Devon slowed down.
“You okay there?”
“Yeah, just get a little dizzy going down the hill.” It was more than just the hill, though. He felt it standing on his front porch, descending stairs, and any other time he wasn’t on level, solid ground.
“I might as well tell you before we get there – Julia invited a friend she wants to set you up with. Her name is Carrie, and she’s really nice, so don’t be a dick or anything.”
“What, so now I’m supposed to spend all my time with this woman?” It figured Julia would mess up his plans. Why did his friends always feel the need to go messing in his personal life? Maybe Randy was right – it was time to make some new friends, friends who would just let him be and not fuss over everything he did or didn’t do.
“No, she doesn’t know anything about it. Just be nice and give her a chance. Julia really thinks you two would hit it off.”
“Fine,” he grumbled as he opened his second beer. “But will you tell Julia not to do that? I hate set-ups.”
“I know you do, and I told her already. She just worries about you and thinks you need someone in your life – says it unhealthy for you to spend so much time alone, and I gotta agree with her on that.”
“Maybe, and maybe it’s what I need right now.” He didn’t inform Devon that not only did it make him happy, but that he didn’t have the energy for anything else. So much for new friends.
As they approached Keith’s house, it became obvious it was a big party. They circled several blocks, but could find no place to park. Finally, Devon pulled his car into Keith’s yard.
“There’s no way I’m gonna make you walk a mile just to get to the door. If he doesn’t like it, he can have me towed.”
Rick was relieved. The four pills were kicking in and what he wanted most was immobility.
Chapter Nineteen
As they entered the large, stylish, un-Keith-like home, Rick could barely hear the music over the din of people talking. Since it was a party to celebrate the release of
Slave to the Night
, the album played in the background. Hoots and hollers of welcome sounded from all around as they entered.
They made their way through the crowded living room, stopping to acknowledge friends and acquaintances along the way. Rick stayed close to Devon and tried to move him along at a quicker pace, anxious to find a place to sit. The noise, combined with the limited personal space, was triggering another attack of vertigo and claustrophobia.
At last, they spotted Julia sitting at the kitchen table with Morgan, Randy, and several women Rick didn’t recognize. Randy stood up, slapped Rick on the back, and shook his hand.
“Alright, you made it. We were starting to worry about you.”
“I had to wait forever for him to get ready. The guy takes longer than anyone I ever met,” Devon said.
“Well, I’m glad you finally made it.” Randy leaned in and quietly asked, “Are you okay? You look like shit, and your hand is
really
clammy.”
“Yeah, I just need to sit down.”
Randy offered his chair to Rick, and as he sat down, he noticed Randy wouldn’t stop watching him. Keith came over and handed him a beer as Julia began introductions. Of course, Carrie was the first person he met, followed by Audrey, and then Beth. He shook hands with them all, and tried to be charming. Carrie and Audrey didn’t impress him, but Beth, he thought, seemed pretty cool. He saved his biggest smiles for her and tried to catch her eye as much as possible. When he did, she’d bashfully smile back. Rick felt he was doing well entertaining the women even though he knew he sounded a little odd. The way they were all looking at him made him worry they could tell how stoned he was. He drank his beer and popped another pill in hopes it would calm and help him relax into the atmosphere of the party.
Julia told him all about Carrie, of course making her sound like an ideal match for any man, but Rick couldn’t stop staring at Beth. She had a dark mystique about her that he found irresistible. The conversation grew louder as Carrie tried to put her best foot forward. Rick was polite, but before long, it became obvious that he wasn’t interested. Randy finally dropped his vigil and left the table, and not long after, the women followed. Beth rose to leave with them, but Rick grabbed her hand.
“So Beth, you’ve been very quiet. Tell me about you.” The sound of his own voice was unnatural, and didn’t blame Beth for trying to get away, but once he had her one-on-one, he knew he’d be able to fix any of her initial doubts.
She avoided his gaze now, and if she did look at Rick, it was just for a brief moment. He couldn’t tell why she was acting so shy.
“There really isn’t much to tell,” she said, slowly returning to her seat. “I know Julia from college. We get together once in a while. I was really surprised when she asked me to come to this party with her.”
“Are you from around here?” he asked. “What do you do?”
“Yeah, I grew up here. I work at the university library.”
“You do? Wow, that is so cool,” he said, trying to sound casual. He decided a compliment might get her to loosen up. “You fit right into the sexy librarian fantasy.”
“Excuse me?”
Certain that she had misunderstood, he explained, “I don’t mean it in a bad way. It’s good, you look like you’re all serious, but get you alone, and the sex goddess comes out. Do you want to go somewhere more private so we can talk?”
“Are you serious?” she asked, her face screwed up in disgust.
‘Yeah, Keith won’t care if we use one of his rooms, will you Keith?”
Keith and his latest girlfriend joined them at the table, and no sooner had they taken their seats than Beth rose and excused herself, shaking her head.
“Will I what?” Keith asked.
Rick looked at him for a moment in disbelief. “Nothing, never mind,” he said, annoyed they had scared her off.
“Do you need anything? You look like you need some sun, or a nap at the very least.” Keith laughed as he picked up Rick’s beer can and shook it. “Want another beer?”
“Do you have anything stronger?”
Keith smiled and headed for the living room. He returned a couple of minutes later with a bottle of Crown and a glass. “Need ice?”
“Nope, this is just fine.”
After pouring himself a generous portion, Rick settled into his chair to watch the party, and hoped Beth might return once he was alone again. The table’s occupants changed often, some he tried to visit with, and others he just observed. No one seemed very anxious to enter into any lengthy discussion with him. Most didn’t stay long and wandered away in search of different company. He spotted Devon and Randy across the room, watching him, and he could tell they’d been talking about him. After a few drinks, Keith returned and sat beside him.
“How ya doing? Want something to eat?”
“No, I’m good, thanks. But I do need to hit the head.”
“You know the way…” Keith said, as Rick stood and left the table.
He didn’t see which way Beth had gone, but he hoped he might find her on his way to the bathroom. As he reentered the crowded living room, he once again felt the dizziness and the need to escape. He made it through to the hallway but never spotted her. He discovered a line for the bathroom, so he turned and headed for the one in Keith’s bedroom on the second floor. The steps were steeper than he remembered and he reached for the railing to steady himself.
It occurred to him that Beth might already be upstairs, waiting for him, but he didn’t find her after a thorough search. Then, he remembered – it was the bathroom he was after, so he wandered back to Keith’s room.
Rick closed the door behind him, creating a wall between the rhythm of the party and himself. The sudden quiet made him aware of just how stoned he was. After he relieved himself, he looked in the mirror and saw he still had a bluish pallor, even though he felt flushed. He splashed some water on his face from the sink. The cold water refreshed and helped clear his head, reconnecting his thoughts and his body, which seemed to be traveling in divergent realities. He splashed his neck and arms, hoping to further anchor his consciousness.
While he dried off, he tried to slow his breathing. It felt more like panting, and when he thought it had returned to normal, he automatically reached into his pocket for the bottle of cocaine. He snorted a few times in each nostril and waited for the rush to hit him. Reaching into his other pocket, he pulled out the bottle of pills and tapped two into his hand. He scooped water from the sink’s faucet to wash them down.