GOODNIGHT, SWEET PARTRIDGE
CHAPTER 3
"No." Reuben told Keith in the living room of the Partridge house that next morning. "Absolutely not."
Keith frowned. "Why not? It's obvious that she has…feelings for me. Maybe I can get her to open up."
"And maybe she'll open you up, with a machete or something! You can't risk it, Keith. She could be a candidate for the funny farm. She's already taken a drastic step in trying to end her own life. I don't want you going with her."
Frustration was showing clearly on the young singer's face. He knew Reuben was right, but something kept gnawing at him. He felt responsible for this girl's actions, and all he wanted to do was help.
"Reuben's right, honey. She could be dangerous. Maybe the whole thing was done to attract your attention, and now that she has it, she could be planning something even worse for you," Shirley told him.
"Oh, please, Mom, don't tell me you believe all this hype. You know as well as I do that she's most likely just a lonely teenage girl with an unrequited love. Yes, she obviously has some problems, but I don't think she's dangerous." Keith's voice was on the edge of anger. "I see your concern, but I honestly don't think she would hurt me."
"You don't know that. We don't know anything about her. Maybe she's not even acting alone, here, did you think of that? Suppose she has an accomplice of some sort, and this is a plot to kidnap you or something? Any number of things could happen, Keith. There are too many sick people out there," Reuben said adamantly.
"You have to think of yourself first, Keith. Maybe if we get some more information on her, we could ease you two into a face to face meeting, but not until. It's for your own protection. We're just as concerned about the poor child as you are, but we can't go rushing into anything." Shirley rubbed his back.
Keith nodded. They were right, he knew that, but he also knew that this could very well be the beginning of the end for the group. This whole episode could be a stigma they would never be able to get over.
"Okay, I'll accept that, but…how about if I called her? What harm could she be to me over the phone?"
"That is a great idea, and we can do that, but right now, we have a press conference. You have your albatrosses and I have mine. Are you ready?" Reuben asked.
"I guess so. Where's it being held, anyway?" Keith shoved his hands nervously into his pants pockets. He was dressed to the nines for this, white shirt, tie, everything. Reuben told him he needed to make the press forget that he was a rock singer, just for the purpose of getting them to listen to what he had to say, and appearing before them looking like he'd just come from Church certainly wouldn't hurt.
"In front of the hospital, just for aesthetics."
Keith raised an eyebrow. "And…if someone asks if I've been in there to visit her….?"
"You say you're arranging a meeting. Look, I'll do most of the talking. If someone asks you something you don't have an answer for, I'll pop in with a quick reply. Trust me, I've done a million of these things."
Keith nodded apprehensively as Shirley reached over, kissing his cheek. "Good luck, honey."
"Thanks, Mom," he swallowed, his eyes darting back to Reuben. "Is it just me, or is this room spinning?"
Smiling, Reuben put his arm around him.
****
Keith was suddenly all too aware of the reason Reuben dreaded press conferences. For one thing, it was nothing but chaos. Grown men and women pushing their way towards him, each trying in their own obnoxious way to get him to answer their question, trying to pretend that none of the other reporters even existed. Microphones and cameras shoved in his face by people who were, at the very least rude and ill-mannered. Reuben and he had been there for the whole of five minutes and already the questioning had turned from candid to interrogative. He'd had to physically push his way to the table that was set up on the hospital lawn for them; now he was having to deal with a barrage of accusations that maybe he'd been impolite to this girl or had been physical with her to get her to do what she did. It was enough to bring a guy to tears, and he found himself turning more and more to Reuben to answer the questions in his stead. All Keith wanted to do right now was up and leave this inquisition and find a hole to crawl into.
The other Partridges watched from outside the bus in the parking lot, not 100 feet from where Reuben and Keith sat facing this lynch mob. It was killing Shirley, especially, watching them pummel Keith with their words, demanding to know why he would do this to someone who just obviously wanted his attention. She saw how uncomfortable he was, veritably squirming in his seat more and more with each question thrown at him. She noticed how he reacted to the flashbulbs as picture after picture was taken of her son sitting there as if on trial. It was almost too much to comprehend. They acted like he'd murdered the girl in cold blood, when he didn't even know how he'd gotten mixed up in all this.
Thank goodness for Reuben, Shirley thought. He was coming to Keith's rescue as promised, handing out verifiable answers as readily as any lawyer. Still and all, Shirley saw her son's face and knew that things would never be the same again.
Reuben saw, too, what it was doing to the young teen idol and he did his best to end the press conference in a most professional manner. Rising to his feet, he squared himself between Keith and the reporters, letting Keith make a clean get away. As Keith moved off toward the bus and his awaiting family, Reuben kept moving, too, making sure he kept the mob at a good distance from his client.
Finally getting within running distance of the bus, Keith sprinted forward, leaving the manager to do what he did best.
Keith's face was as white as his sweat-soaked shirt as he joined the other Partridges. Shirley stayed her brood with her hand, watching him as he whisked past them and into the bus.
"Mom," Laurie began, but Shirley shook her head.
"Let him be for a minute. He doesn't need anymore questions."
They waited outside, all of them visibly shaken by the outcome of the event. Reuben had dispelled the last of the reporters and was now coming toward them, sweat glistening on his wide forehead.
"They were going for the throat. How's Keith?"
"Completely unnerved. I can see now it was not a good idea to put him through that, Reuben."
"I wanted them to see him, to see whom they were questioning. They had to see him as a person, Shirley, and not some rock and roll idol that didn't give a rat's behind about the situation, which is what a lot of them started out thinking. Especially the out of towners; the ones who really don't know him. Besides, we had nothing to hide. Keith hasn't done anything wrong, and they needed to see that."
"I just hope it was all worth it," Shirley said coolly, stepping into the bus.
Keith sat in the back, looking thoroughly drained. She couldn't tell if he was crying, but she wouldn't have been surprised.
"Okay, honey?" She eased toward him, not wanting to make any sudden moves.
He sat with his back against the window, his tie pulled open and his face sad. "They said I drove her to it," he said softly.
"You and Reuben set them straight." She sat down in the seat in front of him.
He shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. "They didn't listen, Mom. Nobody was listening to what we had to say. They were all too busy trying to come up with the next stupid question. Their minds were made up before they even got there." He clenched his fist, slamming it down hard onto the back of the seat to his left. "How can they say anything about me? They don't know me! They certainly don't know her! No one knows anything about her! I'm sick of being the bad guy here, Mom!"
His voice escalated and Shirley put a gentle hand on his arm. "You didn't do anything wrong, Keith, we all know that."
"Mom, I have to talk to her. I have to find out why she did this; why she's trying to destroy me." His voice broke.
Shirley sighed. "Let me talk to Reuben and I'll see what he says."
Keith closed his eyes, pushing his head back against the window.
CHAPTER 3
"No." Reuben told Keith in the living room of the Partridge house that next morning. "Absolutely not."
Keith frowned. "Why not? It's obvious that she has…feelings for me. Maybe I can get her to open up."
"And maybe she'll open you up, with a machete or something! You can't risk it, Keith. She could be a candidate for the funny farm. She's already taken a drastic step in trying to end her own life. I don't want you going with her."
Frustration was showing clearly on the young singer's face. He knew Reuben was right, but something kept gnawing at him. He felt responsible for this girl's actions, and all he wanted to do was help.
"Reuben's right, honey. She could be dangerous. Maybe the whole thing was done to attract your attention, and now that she has it, she could be planning something even worse for you," Shirley told him.
"Oh, please, Mom, don't tell me you believe all this hype. You know as well as I do that she's most likely just a lonely teenage girl with an unrequited love. Yes, she obviously has some problems, but I don't think she's dangerous." Keith's voice was on the edge of anger. "I see your concern, but I honestly don't think she would hurt me."
"You don't know that. We don't know anything about her. Maybe she's not even acting alone, here, did you think of that? Suppose she has an accomplice of some sort, and this is a plot to kidnap you or something? Any number of things could happen, Keith. There are too many sick people out there," Reuben said adamantly.
"You have to think of yourself first, Keith. Maybe if we get some more information on her, we could ease you two into a face to face meeting, but not until. It's for your own protection. We're just as concerned about the poor child as you are, but we can't go rushing into anything." Shirley rubbed his back.
Keith nodded. They were right, he knew that, but he also knew that this could very well be the beginning of the end for the group. This whole episode could be a stigma they would never be able to get over.
"Okay, I'll accept that, but…how about if I called her? What harm could she be to me over the phone?"
"That is a great idea, and we can do that, but right now, we have a press conference. You have your albatrosses and I have mine. Are you ready?" Reuben asked.
"I guess so. Where's it being held, anyway?" Keith shoved his hands nervously into his pants pockets. He was dressed to the nines for this, white shirt, tie, everything. Reuben told him he needed to make the press forget that he was a rock singer, just for the purpose of getting them to listen to what he had to say, and appearing before them looking like he'd just come from Church certainly wouldn't hurt.
"In front of the hospital, just for aesthetics."
Keith raised an eyebrow. "And…if someone asks if I've been in there to visit her….?"
"You say you're arranging a meeting. Look, I'll do most of the talking. If someone asks you something you don't have an answer for, I'll pop in with a quick reply. Trust me, I've done a million of these things."
Keith nodded apprehensively as Shirley reached over, kissing his cheek. "Good luck, honey."
"Thanks, Mom," he swallowed, his eyes darting back to Reuben. "Is it just me, or is this room spinning?"
Smiling, Reuben put his arm around him.
****
Keith was suddenly all too aware of the reason Reuben dreaded press conferences. For one thing, it was nothing but chaos. Grown men and women pushing their way towards him, each trying in their own obnoxious way to get him to answer their question, trying to pretend that none of the other reporters even existed. Microphones and cameras shoved in his face by people who were, at the very least rude and ill-mannered. Reuben and he had been there for the whole of five minutes and already the questioning had turned from candid to interrogative. He'd had to physically push his way to the table that was set up on the hospital lawn for them; now he was having to deal with a barrage of accusations that maybe he'd been impolite to this girl or had been physical with her to get her to do what she did. It was enough to bring a guy to tears, and he found himself turning more and more to Reuben to answer the questions in his stead. All Keith wanted to do right now was up and leave this inquisition and find a hole to crawl into.
The other Partridges watched from outside the bus in the parking lot, not 100 feet from where Reuben and Keith sat facing this lynch mob. It was killing Shirley, especially, watching them pummel Keith with their words, demanding to know why he would do this to someone who just obviously wanted his attention. She saw how uncomfortable he was, veritably squirming in his seat more and more with each question thrown at him. She noticed how he reacted to the flashbulbs as picture after picture was taken of her son sitting there as if on trial. It was almost too much to comprehend. They acted like he'd murdered the girl in cold blood, when he didn't even know how he'd gotten mixed up in all this.
Thank goodness for Reuben, Shirley thought. He was coming to Keith's rescue as promised, handing out verifiable answers as readily as any lawyer. Still and all, Shirley saw her son's face and knew that things would never be the same again.
Reuben saw, too, what it was doing to the young teen idol and he did his best to end the press conference in a most professional manner. Rising to his feet, he squared himself between Keith and the reporters, letting Keith make a clean get away. As Keith moved off toward the bus and his awaiting family, Reuben kept moving, too, making sure he kept the mob at a good distance from his client.
Finally getting within running distance of the bus, Keith sprinted forward, leaving the manager to do what he did best.
Keith's face was as white as his sweat-soaked shirt as he joined the other Partridges. Shirley stayed her brood with her hand, watching him as he whisked past them and into the bus.
"Mom," Laurie began, but Shirley shook her head.
"Let him be for a minute. He doesn't need anymore questions."
They waited outside, all of them visibly shaken by the outcome of the event. Reuben had dispelled the last of the reporters and was now coming toward them, sweat glistening on his wide forehead.
"They were going for the throat. How's Keith?"
"Completely unnerved. I can see now it was not a good idea to put him through that, Reuben."
"I wanted them to see him, to see whom they were questioning. They had to see him as a person, Shirley, and not some rock and roll idol that didn't give a rat's behind about the situation, which is what a lot of them started out thinking. Especially the out of towners; the ones who really don't know him. Besides, we had nothing to hide. Keith hasn't done anything wrong, and they needed to see that."
"I just hope it was all worth it," Shirley said coolly, stepping into the bus.
Keith sat in the back, looking thoroughly drained. She couldn't tell if he was crying, but she wouldn't have been surprised.
"Okay, honey?" She eased toward him, not wanting to make any sudden moves.
He sat with his back against the window, his tie pulled open and his face sad. "They said I drove her to it," he said softly.
"You and Reuben set them straight." She sat down in the seat in front of him.
He shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. "They didn't listen, Mom. Nobody was listening to what we had to say. They were all too busy trying to come up with the next stupid question. Their minds were made up before they even got there." He clenched his fist, slamming it down hard onto the back of the seat to his left. "How can they say anything about me? They don't know me! They certainly don't know her! No one knows anything about her! I'm sick of being the bad guy here, Mom!"
His voice escalated and Shirley put a gentle hand on his arm. "You didn't do anything wrong, Keith, we all know that."
"Mom, I have to talk to her. I have to find out why she did this; why she's trying to destroy me." His voice broke.
Shirley sighed. "Let me talk to Reuben and I'll see what he says."
Keith closed his eyes, pushing his head back against the window.