The Long Road, Part 5
Keith forced his sleep-laden eyes open, feeling nothing but pain everywhere. He found himself in the bus, which was parked in front of the hotel. Reuben was sitting in the driver's seat, doing a crossword puzzle, but there was no one else about, and Keith sat up, hurting and confused for a moment. He remembered falling asleep just after they'd left the filling station, but that was it.
At the first sign of life from the singer, Reuben got up, coming down the aisle towards him. "How you feel?"
Keith rubbed his eyes, his entire body aching tremendously. He wondered if the pain was showing on his face. "Where are we? Where is everybody?"
"At the hotel," Reuben answered, sitting in the seat in front of Keith. "And I sent the family over to the concert hall in a limousine. Danny was ecstatic." Reuben smiled.
Keith nodded, smiling to himself at the image of Danny living high off the hog, even if it was only for twelve blocks. "You…didn't tell Mom about the nosebleed…"
"Nope. Once you fell asleep, she was concerned, but I told her to just let you rest and that I would bring you over later. You didn't answer my question. How do you feel?" Reuben pressed.
Keith shrugged. There was no way he was going to add to the manager's worry and tell him the whole truth. "Okay. Tired, a little achy. Probably because I've been in one position for two hours. Once I stretch my muscles, it should be business as usual."
Reuben eyed him. The kid was a little on the pale side; even more so since they'd left the gas station. "Are you sure? The show's not until tomorrow. I can take care of things now and we can head back to San Pueblo."
Shaking his head, Keith pulled himself up. Every muscle in his body reacted to the movement and he did his best not to let Reuben see it. "We're here, now. Might as well fulfill the contract, right?" He patted Reuben's shoulder and reached for his duffel bag and guitar that sat behind him. "Have we checked in? I'd like to get out of these clothes and into my grubbies for the soundcheck and rehearsal."
Reuben produced the key, still scrutinizing the boy, not totally convinced he'd been telling the truth about his condition. "Room 945. I'll come with you." He knew better than to just offer to go, because Keith would just tell him no.
Too weary to argue, Keith nodded and Reuben grabbed the heavy guitar from him and led the way out of the bus.
Reuben pulled the bus up to the backstage door of the concert hall, watching Keith, who sat behind him, in the mirror. His young charge had changed into a baggy sweatshirt and faded jeans, making him look even younger and more weary, and frankly, he could tell he was in some sort of pain, though Keith wasn't about to admit it.
"Everyone should be on stage. Go on ahead and I'll get the crew to unload all the gear," Reuben told him, putting the bus in park and opening the door.
Keith got up, taking his guitar and Reuben watched with concern as the boy stepped down off the stairs and more or less dragged into the building. This can't be good, Reuben thought. The kid was worsening more and more as time went on. Hopefully, Shirley would take care of the situation.
Once inside the building, Keith stopped walking, putting the guitar down. It seemed like every muscle, bone and joint was on fire… Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes. He couldn't let on in front of the family. Mom would have him in the bus headed west in an instant.
"Keith?"
It was Laurie, and he quickly pushed away from the wall, trying to sum up strength and vigor.
His sister was coming toward him and he forced a smile, weary though it was. "Sorry I'm late…had to change."
"You look awful. Are you okay?" Laurie put her hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah, sure. Tired, maybe. Where is everybody?" Keith reached down for the guitar, his muscles screaming.
"Sitting around in the auditorium, waiting for you and the equipment. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes! Why does everybody keep asking me that?" He lifted the guitar and pulled a painful face.
Laurie took the instrument from his hand. "You're hurting again, aren't you? Is it your head?"
He shook his head, waving her concerns away with his hand. "It's just a little muscle spasm. I'll take a pain pill and that will be that." He reclaimed the guitar, moving off with her trailing worriedly behind. "Is there a restroom around here?"
Laurie nodded. "Up ahead, on the right. Keith…"
They had reached the men's room door and Keith stopped, the pain flashing in his eyes. "What?"
She held out her hand. "I'll hold the guitar, unless you want to write a song while you're in there."
Her grin made him laugh. "I'll take a pill and be right out."
She nodded as he slipped through the door.
The rehearsal was not going well. Between the painkillers and his dizzy state, Keith was in a quandary. It was as if he were barely able to function. The guitar around his neck weighed twice what he did himself, and the music was just echoing in his ears, not making any sense. He stumbled across the words, having to stop, letting the others take it, then finding his place and rejoining.
The family and Reuben noticed his confusion, too, but Shirley had decided not to say anything. She knew the virus had everything to do with it, and she also knew that Keith was just stubborn enough to overcome it.
However, after about his twentieth mistake, he backed away from the microphone, looking completely flustered. "I'm sorry…I can't do this…"
Everyone looked completely stunned as Keith yanked the guitar away from his body as if it were the culprit that was causing all the pain and misery. Swinging around, he slipped out of the strap, shoving the instrument at Danny and leaving the stage. Keith Partridge had never bagged a rehearsal in his life, and now here he was, walking out.
"Mom?" Laurie asked, watching as Keith went down the steps, heading for the seats in the blackened auditorium.
"I'll check on him. You kids go on back to the dressing room and eat." Shirley directed.
"I'll go with you," Reuben offered, and he and Shirley followed Keith's path.
He was slumped in an aisle seat a few rows from the front. It was so dark in there, they could barely see him.
"Keith, honey, what's wrong?" Shirley knew she didn't have to ask, but she did anyway. She sat down beside him, and Reuben chose to stand.
At first, he didn't answer. He just sat there staring towards the stage as if he never heard her at all. Then, when he did speak, it was soft, anguished. "I can't do it, Mom. I can't play…I can't remember the tune, the words…" he shook his head, looking up at them through the mass of hair that fell down towards his handsome face. "I feel scared…numb, you know?"
"It's just the virus, honey…it's acting up a little, giving you fits…it's not you," Shirley soothed.
"What's gonna happen tomorrow night, at the show? Suppose I mess up?" His eyes darkened with fear as he stared up at them. "I'll ruin everything…"
Shirley looked up at Reuben. Keith was absolutely right. If he continued on like this, there was no telling what would happen. The manager tugged uneasily at his tie, shrugging helplessly.
Shirley took a deep breath, petting Keith's head. "You won't, because you know what? We'll be there to back you up. If you make a mistake, we'll cover for you. We can have the words to the songs taped there on the floor so you can't forget them. We'll all pull through this together, and then, after it's over, perhaps we'd better head home." She looked hard at Reuben, emphasizing the last two words.
Keith gulped. "I'm scared, Mom." Tears glinted in his eyes in the dim light.
She pulled him close, rubbing his shoulder hard. "Don't be, sweetheart. We're all here for you."
He closed his eyes, feeling completely exhausted, dizzy and achy. He knew his mother was right. She and his brothers and sisters were there for him, always. He just hoped that, come what may, everything would turn out come showtime.
Keith sat alone on the stage, his guitar in his lap. The others were eating a catered lunch in the dressing rooms, but Keith had declined the food, determined now more than ever to overcome his problem with the music. Shirley had not pressed him to eat, even though she worried about his health. She knew he needed the nutrition and the energy, but she also knew that when it came to his music, her son had certain priorities, and eating was always way down on the list. She'd convinced him to at least take a sandwich and a can of pop with him, but he'd forgotten about them, now, as he sat there on the stool in the middle of the stage, strumming the guitar, letting the words flow. If it had been anyone else, they would have been completely inhibited from doing such a thing, but Keith wasn't just anyone. He wanted the show to be a success, no matter how he felt. He couldn't let down the Family, the fans. The virus was not going to win, not this time.
Over and over, he played the songs that should have already been embedded in his mind, singing the lyrics that were like breathing to him. He stayed there until he got them down pat, and would have done so if it took him all day.
He was so into the music that at first he didn't notice that, somewhere along the line, a piano had joined in, and startled, he looked up to see Laurie sitting to his right, playing right along with him. She grinned at him, and he smiled back, not missing a beat. The two continued their duet, Laurie's sweet voice blending the harmony to his melody just perfectly.
As he closed the song, he turned to her, speaking softly. "That was great, Laur. Thanks."
She rose from the bench, going up behind him, both hands massaging his shoulders. "It was great, and you know why? Because you, dear brother, are Keith Partridge, and the Keith Partridge I know is great at everything he does."
He seemed embarrassed at her words, but let her go on with the massage, feeling the strength in her hands as she kneaded his muscles, working at the knots at the base of his neck.
He could have let her do it all day, but he knew there was work to do. "Wanna call the others, and we can have a real rehearsal?"
She leaned down, playing with his hair. "You sure you're ready?"
"We'll find out," he sighed, and she kissed his head, moving off.
The second rehearsal flowed nicely, and they played until early evening, just for Keith's sake, then went back to the hotel. Exhausted, Keith went to bed early and slept undisturbed until midnight.
A crashing sound awakened him with a start and he sat up in the bed, his heart pounding. Dizziness overtook him for the moment and he put a hand to his head, waiting for it to pass. The swirling finally ended and, looking over at the other bed where his brothers slept peacefully, he swallowed, taking a deep breath. He had to have dreamt it, whatever it was…it was if someone had dropped Chris' drums down a flight of stairs; it had been that loud and that real. Now, he was hurting again, and he kicked the covers off. Grabbing the pill bottle from the nightstand between the beds, he padded into the bathroom.
Staring at his ragged self in the mirror, Keith downed another painkiller. He wondered if this was what a junkie looked like, with the sunken eyes, the pallor, the gray tinted skin. He was a mess.
Suddenly, a sharp pain caused him to double over and he clenched his teeth, trying not to cry out. The pain hit him right in the gut and took away his breath. It left him weak, and he sank to his knees on the cool tiled floor, panting like a puppy. Pulling in some air, he stayed put, arms around his middle. Dear god, what would be next? Was the virus ever going to leave him? And, why him in the first place? Why not Laurie, or Danny…not that he wished this on anyone, not even his worst enemy.
Another pain ripped through him and this time, he groaned in spite of himself. He half-hoped his tortured moan would awaken one or both of the boys; he really didn't want to endure this alone.
He found himself unable to move, now. Every way he turned caused intense pain, and he held back from screaming, groaning again and folding over as still another pain seized his insides. Finally, he could take it no longer.
"Danny!" he cried, his voice strained, and his face wet with tears. "Oh, god… Danny!"
From his vantage point on the floor, he saw the door sweep open and a pair of bare feet. He couldn't look up; still couldn't move.
"Keith, what's the matter?" Danny sounded horrified, but sleepy.
Keith felt his brother's touch on his shoulders and back. Still huddled there, shaking for all he was worth, Keith cried out again. "Oh, god, Danny, get Mom or Reuben…I can't move!" he begged.
He saw the feet leave and just before another dizzy spell hit him, he saw Chris' smaller feet standing in the doorway.
"Keith?" the child's voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls.
It was all he could remember.
Keith's eyes flew open. He was in the hotel room, on the bed. Light was peeking through the curtain opening, and he lay there for a moment before trying anything stupid as to try to move. When he braved it, he was pleased to find there wasn't any pain, and he rolled over all the way.
Shirley was sitting in the chair, keeping vigil as usual and she looked over at him, smiling. It was too dim in the room to make out her entire features, but he'd recognize that smile anywhere.
"How do you feel?"
"Okay. I thought…after last night…"
She read his thoughts. "We called the hotel doctor and he gave you some morphine for the pain. Don't you remember any of that?"
He shook his head as she reached down, caressing his face. "No. I must've been pretty out of it, huh?"
"Oh, I'd say you were well into it, my dear. You were screaming the entire time. Oh, Keith, I don't ever want to go through that again…you don't know what that does to a mother's heart." She took his hand, moving to the bed beside him.
He sat up, going into her arms. His muscles were still stiff, but he managed to wrap his arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing his head hard into hers. "I guess I scared the kids, too, huh?"
"We made them all sleep in our room. Reuben took them to brunch, so I haven't seen them. Danny, Tracy and Chris were hysterical last night, though. They were so worried that you were going to die…" Shirley pulled away from him, taking his head in her hands.
"I felt like it, believe me," Keith swallowed, as she pushed his hair away from his face, staring into his eyes.
"I need the truth, Keith. Do you need to go to the hospital?"
He took a deep breath. "No, Mom…I'm okay. Sore, but okay."
She just sat there looking at him for the longest time. He didn't look away, and she took it for the truth. "If you do, will you tell me?"
A smile tugged on the edge of his mouth. "I don't think I'd have to."
She leaned in, kissing his face and pulling him toward her again. When they parted, she had both hands in his hair. "I don't ever want to see you in that much pain again, do you hear me?"
He sighed. "I know…I said I was sorry." Forcing a smile he asked, "What time is the show tonight?"
"Six o'clock. Just enough time for some shopping. Laurie and I are going. I don't suppose you'd like to come?"
He glanced at the clock. Noon, already! "No. I think I'll just hang around here, maybe go back over to the concert hall and work some more on the songs."
"Are you sure?" she asked, then to his look, she relented. "Don't over do it, honey. Yesterday, the rehearsal went fine. Don't burn yourself out…you're going to make yourself sicker."
"Well, I'm still not sure I gave it my all yesterday. I can do better than that."
She put her hands on either side of his face. He was so determined, so stubborn. It wouldn't matter what she said, he would do what he wanted, anyway. "You are so much like your father. He never gave up, either."
He smiled tiredly, putting his hand on hers. "I'll take that as a compliment. So, what's Reuben gonna do all day?"
"Reuben is taking care of the upcoming tour dates so that we can take you home and get you over this."
He frowned. "Isn't he jumping the gun a little? I mean, I hate to cancel any show, Mom. I don't like disappointing people."
She sighed, her fingers raking through his hair. "I know, sweetheart, but with this virus wreaking havoc on you, we can't risk it. Your health is far more important."
He nodded just to make her feel better.
She reached down, taking his hand. "Need anything while we're out?"
"Nope. Hey, Mom, if I'm not here when you get back, I'll be over at the hall."
"All right, but like I said, don't over do it. All we need is for you to collapse during the show."
He grinned, however tiredly. "Might make for an interesting evening, huh?"
She shook her head. "It would certainly make it memorable. But let's not try it, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed as she got up, squeezing his hand and exiting.
While his mother and sister shopped, Keith found himself the unofficial babysitter for his youngest siblings. Reuben spent most of the afternoon on the phone with the concert promoters canceling the rest of the tour, much to Keith's disgruntlement. He knew his mother was right; he'd pushed this virus thing as far as he'd dared, and after last night's fiasco, he was willing to just pack it in, but it still bothered him to cancel on his fans.
The kids wanted to go swimming, so Keith followed their eager little bodies out to the pool, where he was happy just to fall into a chair and put his feet up. As soon as Reuben was finished with his task, Keith would ask him to drive him to the concert hall for some last minute rehearsing by himself.
The sun felt good on his aching muscles, and Keith relaxed, lying back in the chair while Danny, Chris and Tracy took advantage of the uncrowded pool. It was almost silent around him; too silent. Keith looked over to find his little brothers and sister at the pool's edge, all staring at him.
"What's wrong?" Keith wanted to know.
"Nothing. We were…" Danny glanced at Chris beside him. "Watching you."
Keith shifted uneasily in the chair. "Why?"
"No reason," Danny shrugged.
"Mom told us to keep an eye on you," Tracy spoke up, and Danny rolled his eyes.
"Tracy!"
Keith fought to keep from smiling. "Oh, well, I'll be okay. You guys go ahead and have fun."
"You sure?" Chris asked, his boyish face completely serious.
"I promise," Keith assured him, letting the smile go as the boys whooped and turned away from the edge, splashing away. He closed his eyes, lying back once more. He didn't see Tracy come out of the pool and head for him.
Her shadow fell across his face and he looked up, startled to see her standing there.
"You want something, kiddo?" Keith asked, looking into her eyes.
She shook her head and climbed onto the lounge chair with him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. She snuggled against him, and he heard her sniff.
A little taken aback, he put his arm around her. "What's wrong, Tracy?"
"You were crying last night, and they wouldn't let me hug you. I thought you were going to die," she said softly into his shirt.
Keith looked skyward, her confession bringing tears to his eyes. He gently stroked her long, strawberry blonde hair as she cuddled even closer. "I'm sorry, baby," he said softly. "I could have used that hug." He kissed her head, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Damned virus, anyway!
to be continued...
Keith forced his sleep-laden eyes open, feeling nothing but pain everywhere. He found himself in the bus, which was parked in front of the hotel. Reuben was sitting in the driver's seat, doing a crossword puzzle, but there was no one else about, and Keith sat up, hurting and confused for a moment. He remembered falling asleep just after they'd left the filling station, but that was it.
At the first sign of life from the singer, Reuben got up, coming down the aisle towards him. "How you feel?"
Keith rubbed his eyes, his entire body aching tremendously. He wondered if the pain was showing on his face. "Where are we? Where is everybody?"
"At the hotel," Reuben answered, sitting in the seat in front of Keith. "And I sent the family over to the concert hall in a limousine. Danny was ecstatic." Reuben smiled.
Keith nodded, smiling to himself at the image of Danny living high off the hog, even if it was only for twelve blocks. "You…didn't tell Mom about the nosebleed…"
"Nope. Once you fell asleep, she was concerned, but I told her to just let you rest and that I would bring you over later. You didn't answer my question. How do you feel?" Reuben pressed.
Keith shrugged. There was no way he was going to add to the manager's worry and tell him the whole truth. "Okay. Tired, a little achy. Probably because I've been in one position for two hours. Once I stretch my muscles, it should be business as usual."
Reuben eyed him. The kid was a little on the pale side; even more so since they'd left the gas station. "Are you sure? The show's not until tomorrow. I can take care of things now and we can head back to San Pueblo."
Shaking his head, Keith pulled himself up. Every muscle in his body reacted to the movement and he did his best not to let Reuben see it. "We're here, now. Might as well fulfill the contract, right?" He patted Reuben's shoulder and reached for his duffel bag and guitar that sat behind him. "Have we checked in? I'd like to get out of these clothes and into my grubbies for the soundcheck and rehearsal."
Reuben produced the key, still scrutinizing the boy, not totally convinced he'd been telling the truth about his condition. "Room 945. I'll come with you." He knew better than to just offer to go, because Keith would just tell him no.
Too weary to argue, Keith nodded and Reuben grabbed the heavy guitar from him and led the way out of the bus.
Reuben pulled the bus up to the backstage door of the concert hall, watching Keith, who sat behind him, in the mirror. His young charge had changed into a baggy sweatshirt and faded jeans, making him look even younger and more weary, and frankly, he could tell he was in some sort of pain, though Keith wasn't about to admit it.
"Everyone should be on stage. Go on ahead and I'll get the crew to unload all the gear," Reuben told him, putting the bus in park and opening the door.
Keith got up, taking his guitar and Reuben watched with concern as the boy stepped down off the stairs and more or less dragged into the building. This can't be good, Reuben thought. The kid was worsening more and more as time went on. Hopefully, Shirley would take care of the situation.
Once inside the building, Keith stopped walking, putting the guitar down. It seemed like every muscle, bone and joint was on fire… Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes. He couldn't let on in front of the family. Mom would have him in the bus headed west in an instant.
"Keith?"
It was Laurie, and he quickly pushed away from the wall, trying to sum up strength and vigor.
His sister was coming toward him and he forced a smile, weary though it was. "Sorry I'm late…had to change."
"You look awful. Are you okay?" Laurie put her hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah, sure. Tired, maybe. Where is everybody?" Keith reached down for the guitar, his muscles screaming.
"Sitting around in the auditorium, waiting for you and the equipment. Are you sure you're all right?"
"Yes! Why does everybody keep asking me that?" He lifted the guitar and pulled a painful face.
Laurie took the instrument from his hand. "You're hurting again, aren't you? Is it your head?"
He shook his head, waving her concerns away with his hand. "It's just a little muscle spasm. I'll take a pain pill and that will be that." He reclaimed the guitar, moving off with her trailing worriedly behind. "Is there a restroom around here?"
Laurie nodded. "Up ahead, on the right. Keith…"
They had reached the men's room door and Keith stopped, the pain flashing in his eyes. "What?"
She held out her hand. "I'll hold the guitar, unless you want to write a song while you're in there."
Her grin made him laugh. "I'll take a pill and be right out."
She nodded as he slipped through the door.
The rehearsal was not going well. Between the painkillers and his dizzy state, Keith was in a quandary. It was as if he were barely able to function. The guitar around his neck weighed twice what he did himself, and the music was just echoing in his ears, not making any sense. He stumbled across the words, having to stop, letting the others take it, then finding his place and rejoining.
The family and Reuben noticed his confusion, too, but Shirley had decided not to say anything. She knew the virus had everything to do with it, and she also knew that Keith was just stubborn enough to overcome it.
However, after about his twentieth mistake, he backed away from the microphone, looking completely flustered. "I'm sorry…I can't do this…"
Everyone looked completely stunned as Keith yanked the guitar away from his body as if it were the culprit that was causing all the pain and misery. Swinging around, he slipped out of the strap, shoving the instrument at Danny and leaving the stage. Keith Partridge had never bagged a rehearsal in his life, and now here he was, walking out.
"Mom?" Laurie asked, watching as Keith went down the steps, heading for the seats in the blackened auditorium.
"I'll check on him. You kids go on back to the dressing room and eat." Shirley directed.
"I'll go with you," Reuben offered, and he and Shirley followed Keith's path.
He was slumped in an aisle seat a few rows from the front. It was so dark in there, they could barely see him.
"Keith, honey, what's wrong?" Shirley knew she didn't have to ask, but she did anyway. She sat down beside him, and Reuben chose to stand.
At first, he didn't answer. He just sat there staring towards the stage as if he never heard her at all. Then, when he did speak, it was soft, anguished. "I can't do it, Mom. I can't play…I can't remember the tune, the words…" he shook his head, looking up at them through the mass of hair that fell down towards his handsome face. "I feel scared…numb, you know?"
"It's just the virus, honey…it's acting up a little, giving you fits…it's not you," Shirley soothed.
"What's gonna happen tomorrow night, at the show? Suppose I mess up?" His eyes darkened with fear as he stared up at them. "I'll ruin everything…"
Shirley looked up at Reuben. Keith was absolutely right. If he continued on like this, there was no telling what would happen. The manager tugged uneasily at his tie, shrugging helplessly.
Shirley took a deep breath, petting Keith's head. "You won't, because you know what? We'll be there to back you up. If you make a mistake, we'll cover for you. We can have the words to the songs taped there on the floor so you can't forget them. We'll all pull through this together, and then, after it's over, perhaps we'd better head home." She looked hard at Reuben, emphasizing the last two words.
Keith gulped. "I'm scared, Mom." Tears glinted in his eyes in the dim light.
She pulled him close, rubbing his shoulder hard. "Don't be, sweetheart. We're all here for you."
He closed his eyes, feeling completely exhausted, dizzy and achy. He knew his mother was right. She and his brothers and sisters were there for him, always. He just hoped that, come what may, everything would turn out come showtime.
Keith sat alone on the stage, his guitar in his lap. The others were eating a catered lunch in the dressing rooms, but Keith had declined the food, determined now more than ever to overcome his problem with the music. Shirley had not pressed him to eat, even though she worried about his health. She knew he needed the nutrition and the energy, but she also knew that when it came to his music, her son had certain priorities, and eating was always way down on the list. She'd convinced him to at least take a sandwich and a can of pop with him, but he'd forgotten about them, now, as he sat there on the stool in the middle of the stage, strumming the guitar, letting the words flow. If it had been anyone else, they would have been completely inhibited from doing such a thing, but Keith wasn't just anyone. He wanted the show to be a success, no matter how he felt. He couldn't let down the Family, the fans. The virus was not going to win, not this time.
Over and over, he played the songs that should have already been embedded in his mind, singing the lyrics that were like breathing to him. He stayed there until he got them down pat, and would have done so if it took him all day.
He was so into the music that at first he didn't notice that, somewhere along the line, a piano had joined in, and startled, he looked up to see Laurie sitting to his right, playing right along with him. She grinned at him, and he smiled back, not missing a beat. The two continued their duet, Laurie's sweet voice blending the harmony to his melody just perfectly.
As he closed the song, he turned to her, speaking softly. "That was great, Laur. Thanks."
She rose from the bench, going up behind him, both hands massaging his shoulders. "It was great, and you know why? Because you, dear brother, are Keith Partridge, and the Keith Partridge I know is great at everything he does."
He seemed embarrassed at her words, but let her go on with the massage, feeling the strength in her hands as she kneaded his muscles, working at the knots at the base of his neck.
He could have let her do it all day, but he knew there was work to do. "Wanna call the others, and we can have a real rehearsal?"
She leaned down, playing with his hair. "You sure you're ready?"
"We'll find out," he sighed, and she kissed his head, moving off.
The second rehearsal flowed nicely, and they played until early evening, just for Keith's sake, then went back to the hotel. Exhausted, Keith went to bed early and slept undisturbed until midnight.
A crashing sound awakened him with a start and he sat up in the bed, his heart pounding. Dizziness overtook him for the moment and he put a hand to his head, waiting for it to pass. The swirling finally ended and, looking over at the other bed where his brothers slept peacefully, he swallowed, taking a deep breath. He had to have dreamt it, whatever it was…it was if someone had dropped Chris' drums down a flight of stairs; it had been that loud and that real. Now, he was hurting again, and he kicked the covers off. Grabbing the pill bottle from the nightstand between the beds, he padded into the bathroom.
Staring at his ragged self in the mirror, Keith downed another painkiller. He wondered if this was what a junkie looked like, with the sunken eyes, the pallor, the gray tinted skin. He was a mess.
Suddenly, a sharp pain caused him to double over and he clenched his teeth, trying not to cry out. The pain hit him right in the gut and took away his breath. It left him weak, and he sank to his knees on the cool tiled floor, panting like a puppy. Pulling in some air, he stayed put, arms around his middle. Dear god, what would be next? Was the virus ever going to leave him? And, why him in the first place? Why not Laurie, or Danny…not that he wished this on anyone, not even his worst enemy.
Another pain ripped through him and this time, he groaned in spite of himself. He half-hoped his tortured moan would awaken one or both of the boys; he really didn't want to endure this alone.
He found himself unable to move, now. Every way he turned caused intense pain, and he held back from screaming, groaning again and folding over as still another pain seized his insides. Finally, he could take it no longer.
"Danny!" he cried, his voice strained, and his face wet with tears. "Oh, god… Danny!"
From his vantage point on the floor, he saw the door sweep open and a pair of bare feet. He couldn't look up; still couldn't move.
"Keith, what's the matter?" Danny sounded horrified, but sleepy.
Keith felt his brother's touch on his shoulders and back. Still huddled there, shaking for all he was worth, Keith cried out again. "Oh, god, Danny, get Mom or Reuben…I can't move!" he begged.
He saw the feet leave and just before another dizzy spell hit him, he saw Chris' smaller feet standing in the doorway.
"Keith?" the child's voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls.
It was all he could remember.
Keith's eyes flew open. He was in the hotel room, on the bed. Light was peeking through the curtain opening, and he lay there for a moment before trying anything stupid as to try to move. When he braved it, he was pleased to find there wasn't any pain, and he rolled over all the way.
Shirley was sitting in the chair, keeping vigil as usual and she looked over at him, smiling. It was too dim in the room to make out her entire features, but he'd recognize that smile anywhere.
"How do you feel?"
"Okay. I thought…after last night…"
She read his thoughts. "We called the hotel doctor and he gave you some morphine for the pain. Don't you remember any of that?"
He shook his head as she reached down, caressing his face. "No. I must've been pretty out of it, huh?"
"Oh, I'd say you were well into it, my dear. You were screaming the entire time. Oh, Keith, I don't ever want to go through that again…you don't know what that does to a mother's heart." She took his hand, moving to the bed beside him.
He sat up, going into her arms. His muscles were still stiff, but he managed to wrap his arms tightly around her. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing his head hard into hers. "I guess I scared the kids, too, huh?"
"We made them all sleep in our room. Reuben took them to brunch, so I haven't seen them. Danny, Tracy and Chris were hysterical last night, though. They were so worried that you were going to die…" Shirley pulled away from him, taking his head in her hands.
"I felt like it, believe me," Keith swallowed, as she pushed his hair away from his face, staring into his eyes.
"I need the truth, Keith. Do you need to go to the hospital?"
He took a deep breath. "No, Mom…I'm okay. Sore, but okay."
She just sat there looking at him for the longest time. He didn't look away, and she took it for the truth. "If you do, will you tell me?"
A smile tugged on the edge of his mouth. "I don't think I'd have to."
She leaned in, kissing his face and pulling him toward her again. When they parted, she had both hands in his hair. "I don't ever want to see you in that much pain again, do you hear me?"
He sighed. "I know…I said I was sorry." Forcing a smile he asked, "What time is the show tonight?"
"Six o'clock. Just enough time for some shopping. Laurie and I are going. I don't suppose you'd like to come?"
He glanced at the clock. Noon, already! "No. I think I'll just hang around here, maybe go back over to the concert hall and work some more on the songs."
"Are you sure?" she asked, then to his look, she relented. "Don't over do it, honey. Yesterday, the rehearsal went fine. Don't burn yourself out…you're going to make yourself sicker."
"Well, I'm still not sure I gave it my all yesterday. I can do better than that."
She put her hands on either side of his face. He was so determined, so stubborn. It wouldn't matter what she said, he would do what he wanted, anyway. "You are so much like your father. He never gave up, either."
He smiled tiredly, putting his hand on hers. "I'll take that as a compliment. So, what's Reuben gonna do all day?"
"Reuben is taking care of the upcoming tour dates so that we can take you home and get you over this."
He frowned. "Isn't he jumping the gun a little? I mean, I hate to cancel any show, Mom. I don't like disappointing people."
She sighed, her fingers raking through his hair. "I know, sweetheart, but with this virus wreaking havoc on you, we can't risk it. Your health is far more important."
He nodded just to make her feel better.
She reached down, taking his hand. "Need anything while we're out?"
"Nope. Hey, Mom, if I'm not here when you get back, I'll be over at the hall."
"All right, but like I said, don't over do it. All we need is for you to collapse during the show."
He grinned, however tiredly. "Might make for an interesting evening, huh?"
She shook her head. "It would certainly make it memorable. But let's not try it, okay?"
"Okay," he agreed as she got up, squeezing his hand and exiting.
While his mother and sister shopped, Keith found himself the unofficial babysitter for his youngest siblings. Reuben spent most of the afternoon on the phone with the concert promoters canceling the rest of the tour, much to Keith's disgruntlement. He knew his mother was right; he'd pushed this virus thing as far as he'd dared, and after last night's fiasco, he was willing to just pack it in, but it still bothered him to cancel on his fans.
The kids wanted to go swimming, so Keith followed their eager little bodies out to the pool, where he was happy just to fall into a chair and put his feet up. As soon as Reuben was finished with his task, Keith would ask him to drive him to the concert hall for some last minute rehearsing by himself.
The sun felt good on his aching muscles, and Keith relaxed, lying back in the chair while Danny, Chris and Tracy took advantage of the uncrowded pool. It was almost silent around him; too silent. Keith looked over to find his little brothers and sister at the pool's edge, all staring at him.
"What's wrong?" Keith wanted to know.
"Nothing. We were…" Danny glanced at Chris beside him. "Watching you."
Keith shifted uneasily in the chair. "Why?"
"No reason," Danny shrugged.
"Mom told us to keep an eye on you," Tracy spoke up, and Danny rolled his eyes.
"Tracy!"
Keith fought to keep from smiling. "Oh, well, I'll be okay. You guys go ahead and have fun."
"You sure?" Chris asked, his boyish face completely serious.
"I promise," Keith assured him, letting the smile go as the boys whooped and turned away from the edge, splashing away. He closed his eyes, lying back once more. He didn't see Tracy come out of the pool and head for him.
Her shadow fell across his face and he looked up, startled to see her standing there.
"You want something, kiddo?" Keith asked, looking into her eyes.
She shook her head and climbed onto the lounge chair with him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. She snuggled against him, and he heard her sniff.
A little taken aback, he put his arm around her. "What's wrong, Tracy?"
"You were crying last night, and they wouldn't let me hug you. I thought you were going to die," she said softly into his shirt.
Keith looked skyward, her confession bringing tears to his eyes. He gently stroked her long, strawberry blonde hair as she cuddled even closer. "I'm sorry, baby," he said softly. "I could have used that hug." He kissed her head, wrapping his arms tightly around her. Damned virus, anyway!
to be continued...