Shirley and Reuben held vigil over Keith throughout the night. By mutual consent and at Reuben's insistence, they traded off - a few hours for his mother, a few hours for the manager. Reuben had been emphatic that Shirley get some rest. Besides, as he pointed out to her, he was here now. She could relax and let him take care of things. The words had almost stuck in his throat as he tried not to glance down at the evidence of his own failure to do just that. But Shirley had smiled sadly and had agreed - somewhat reluctantly - to sleep on the sofa. She had made him promise, however, that he would wake her in a few hours.
The Partridge Family manager had no intention of keeping that promise, of course. He had even taken the precaution of crossing his fingers behind his back when he had spoken the words. He was nothing if not superstitious. And more bad luck was just what they did not need right now.
As the hours passed and Keith slept on, Reuben sat in reflective silence. Studying the young singer, he could barely believe the events of the past day. It was difficult to conceive how such a catastrophe could occur within such a short space of time. Twenty four hours or so before, they had been carefree and excited at the prospect of having their tour filmed. No-one in the family had even suspected that by the end of the night, one of their number would be in such a dreadful condition, least of all the young man himself. Reuben had been thrown some curve balls in his time as a manager, but this one was a doozy. And it was made worse by the fact that he was so personally involved.
The Partridge Family was comprised of six very individual, very different human beings. Shirley, the benign matriarch of the group with her warmth and wisdom. Laurie, pert and attractive, a devout believer in causes. Danny, the livewire, whose avaricious tendencies equalled and occasionally surpassed Reuben's own. Chris, with his easygoing nature and ready smile. Tracy, whose sharp eyes missed nothing. She was going to be a heartbreaker when she got older, Reuben could tell. And then there was Keith, the eldest child, lead singer, songwriter and Romeo extraordinaire. Unofficial leader of the group, talented, good looking and a born romantic - which was how, of course, he wrote all those great songs about love. He fell in love at least twice a month and his entire family regarded his reputation with the girls with affectionate amusement - as they did Danny's money-making schemes, Laurie's passion for her causes and the scrapes which Chris and Tracy got into.
But as individual and exceptional as they all were, they shared one very important trait. An unconditional love for one another; one that transcended the petty squabbling, the misdemeanours and the occasional flawed schemes. When one was hurt, they all hurt, and if there was trouble, they banded together so fast and so completely that there was no separating them. They were all highly protective of one another. They might be able to hurl insults at their own brothers and sisters or scheme against them, but woe betide any outsider who tried the same thing. This was a family, who took that term seriously and lived up to all its implications. And they enjoyed each other's company. Despite the incessant teasing of one another, Laurie and Keith thought nothing of spending time together and it was a similar picture with Keith and Danny. Chris and Tracy were virtually inseparable and Laurie and her mom shared a very special mother/daughter relationship. They were a warm and generous bunch of people. And they had welcomed him into their little enclave. He spent more time with them either on the road or at their home than he did at his own bachelor pad, although that changed when Bonnie was in town, of course. From the outset, they had made him feel welcome and that had progressed to gentle, familial teasing. Now, he was more or less a member of the family. Birthdays, Christmas and holidays had been spent at the Partridge home. There had been laughter, tears and lots of enjoyment along the way.
Now, staring down at the pallid face of their 'leader', he wondered if anything would ever be the same again.
*****
Morning came and with it, the dawn chorus began, whistling a melodic tune to greet the slowly rising sun. As the first tendrils of light speared through the window, banishing the dark shadows and gradually bringing radiance to the room, so Keith began to stir.
The first sign of his return to full awareness was the merest shudder of his slight body under the sheets and a mumbled, incoherent half-sentence. Reuben, close to nodding off in the chair, was instantly alert, rubbing his eyes free of the grittiness of a sleepless night. Leaning forward, he laid a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, letting him know that he wasn't alone. Another mumble, this time the words more discernible. "Mom …Mom …?"
"Easy, kid, easy," Reuben soothed as the young singer tossed restlessly. "It's okay. Your mom's here. I'm here. Keith …?"
The long dark eyelashes fluttered against pallid cheeks, blinking sleepily until they finally opened to reveal confused hazel eyes peering out onto the world. "Reuben …?" The teenager's voice was hoarse and hesitant and his face was puckered in a bewildered frown.
"Yeah, kid, it's me," confirmed the manager with a smile.
The frown deepened. "I don't understand. I …"
"Sssh, sshh, kid, it's okay." Reuben patted Keith's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't try to figure it out. You had a rough day yesterday."
Keith nodded. The memories of the previous 24 hours were a little fuzzy to say the least. He remembered bits and pieces but it was all so jumbled. Pain. There had been pain. He could still feel a twinge here and there - his lungs, for instance, felt like they had been put through a wringer - but the actual discomfort itself was but a distant echo in his memory. Something he recalled with a shudder without exactly knowing now how it had actually felt. He recollected some of the events from the night before - how Joni had used him, forcing him into a situation where he was no longer in control, And as his mind sorted through the chaos of his own thoughts and memories, processing them into some semblance of order, so the guilt and shame returned, assailing him with such force it physically hurt.
As Reuben watched, the bloodless face blanched even whiter and tears appeared in the big brown eyes, one spilling over to trace a fine wet trail down one stark white cheek. "Hey, hey," he said, consolingly, "it's okay, Keith. It's gonna be fine."
The lower lip trembled as Keith regarded him. "No, it's not!" he sobbed. "Reuben …"
"I know, kid, I know." Reuben was lost as his young charge's emotions tried to swamp them both.
"I'm sorry …"
"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? You didn't do anything!"
"'xactly." More tears made their way down the ashen face. "I didn't do anything to stop her."
"Right. And can you tell me just exactly what you would have done?" Reuben demanded. "That girl was bad, through and through. Whatever happens to her - well, she deserves it!"
Keith stared at the manager open-mouthed. He had never heard such venom in Reuben's voice before. "But …"
His protest was cut off as Reuben rose from the chair and started pacing. "She used you, Keith," he said, furiously. "She used you for her own ends and then left when the going was good. She's no good, and no-one saw that. Not one of us. You hear? We were all taken in by her - even Greg believed her and he'd had experience of her doing this kind of thing before. Only last time her victim wasn't so lucky." Greg had finally related to him the tale of Joni's previous 'conquest' and the ultimate consequences of his foray into the world of drugs, courtesy of Joni herself. He shuddered as he realised how close they had come to losing Keith to the same kind of tragedy. It had been damn close. It had been too damn close by far.
He shook his head to clear it of the horrifying image which had suddenly presented itself there. Keith Partridge, star of the family, apple of his mom's eye, lying in a twisted, pitiful heap on the floor. Not moving. Not breathing. Dead. A cold shiver travelled the length of his spine. Then he became aware that he was being regarded in wide-eyed astonishment by said Partridge Family star - very much alive and seemingly, so Reuben recognised, belatedly, at least partly recovered from the effects of the narcotics and alcohol Joni had forced into him twenty four hours earlier.
"Uh, how do you feel?" he asked the young singer, returning to the bed and peering down at him, intently.
Reuben had switched gears so suddenly that it took a moment for Keith to assimilate the question. "Um .. slight headache," he replied, uncertainly, "and my chest hurts, but … better. I feel … better." And it was true, he suddenly realised, with a jolt of surprise at the revelation. He did feel better. It hadn't occurred to him upon first awakening, although he had been vaguely aware of feeling much worse than this the last time he was awake. He hadn't thought to examine that thought, however, because of the memories which had rushed in on him, but it was true. Everything ached of course, like he'd gone ten rounds with a grizzly, but he could breathe easier and his limbs no longer hurt every time he moved. Even his headache had eased from the agony which had almost blinded him not a few hours before. "I do, Reuben," he confirmed, in wonder. "I feel better. I … I'm thirsty, though …"
"Thirsty?" Reuben stared at him blankly for a moment, then, "Thirsty ! Of course you are! I'll get you some water. Wait there. Don't go away. I'll - right I'll go get some water."
The Reuben of a few moments before had unnerved Keith somewhat. This Reuben, however, was acting completely in character. Bumbling, nervous and flustered. It almost brought a smile to his face. Almost. Before he knew it, the manager had returned, bearing a glass of water with as much pride as if he was offering the young man an Academy Award. Carefully, Keith struggled to a sitting position in bed and leaned back gratefully against the pillows which Reuben hastily piled behind him. Accepting the glass from the older man, he wrapped both hands around it - partly to keep it still, he was still pretty shaky - and savoured the chill against his skin. He took a cautious sip, then another and another, until eventually, he drained the glass and handed it back.
"You really needed that, huh?" Reuben commented, approvingly, as he studied the glass and noticed the return of some colour to the boy's pale face. The hours of relentless worry were almost forgotten as he ruffled Keith's hair, and was rewarded with a hesitant half-smile. "You know, you should probably eat something," he continued, more sternly, as he assiduously studied the thin form which even the covers did nothing to conceal. The boy needed nourishment, that was for sure. "I could call room service …"
"I don't know," said Keith, doubtfully, shifting uncomfortably under Reuben's scrutiny and very much aware of its cause. Reuben had voiced his concerns before about his lead singer's slenderness. He couldn't help it usually. He expended a lot of energy on stage - and in the normal course of a day, come to that. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his food, or that he didn't eat. He had always figured that he had a very high metabolism. And he wasn't the only one. Laurie, too, was very slim but no-one ever seemed to worry about her. Occasionally he had felt ever so slightly picked on. It had been a great relief when Danny had gone on his slimming kick for Gloria Hickey's party - except that they'd all ended up as untrained counsellors to Reuben and Danny at all hours of the night and day. That had been a nightmare. But not as much as a nightmare as this was. And that's what he wished it was. Something he could just wake up from; to discover that it had never actually occurred. That way he could be free from the guilt and shame which still beset him like twin beasts. He knew Mom and Reuben blamed themselves for the mess he was in now - and he didn't for the life in him understand why. It just added confusion to his disgrace and the contempt he still felt for himself. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep and forget everything that had happened, but Reuben's attention was still riveted on him and he was obviously not going to go away until he got the answer he wanted. Oh what the hell … "Okay," he demurred in defeat. "Send for something from room service, Rueben. Only … "
"Only what?" enquired the manager genially as he started to turn away with a triumphant grin.
"Make it something simple, huh? I … I don't think I could stomach anything spicy or .. cooked right now."
"Don't worry, kid," said Reuben, slapping him gently on the shoulder as he turned to use the phone. "How's plain toast and scrambled eggs sound?"
Keith forced a sickly grin. "Yuck?" he managed.
Meanwhile, on the sofa across the room, Shirley surreptitiously wiped away a stray tear at the conversation. She had woken up at Reuben's tirade and had been an avid listener ever since. It broke her heart to hear the sadness in her son's voice, but she was so relieved that he seemed recovered now, if not from his emotional pain, then at least from the physical suffering. He was alert and talking and everything. He had even managed a little humour. Once again, she thanked god for Reuben. His no-nonsense style and the love he had for the family was proving to be one of its biggest assets.
Breakfast was slow in coming. While they waited, Reuben kept up a steady stream of conversation, sticking mostly to inane subjects as well as a rather one-sided discussion about the family members and their personal 'quirks'. For once, he didn't mention the scheduled performance, nor voice his worries about how the family were going to perform with their star out of commission. Nor did he make any allusions to what had happened to the young man, figuring that he didn't need the reminders - not if that haunted, lost expression in his eyes was anything to go by.
For his part, Keith merely sat back and let Reuben waffle on. The manager was in full flow and even had the teenager wanted to interrupt, he would have been hard pressed to do so. He couldn't get a word in edgewise. So, he offered up the occasional "yes, Reuben," and "No, Reuben," as the circumstance demanded and tried very hard not to think about the direction in which his life appeared to have gone.
Shirley, lying on the sofa, feigning sleep, listened as Reuben's voice continued, She knew he was trying to distract Keith from his problems - and subtly remind him that he had a loving family to support him at the same time. Why else mention each and every member of that family by name and at such great length? She also knew that it seemed to be having little if no effect on her firstborn. His muted responses to the manager's words tore at her heart. There was such despair behind them, such utter desolation. She had spent many sleepless hours during the night racking her brains for a way to help her eldest son and had come up empty. She couldn't bear to see him so dispirited, so desperately unhappy, although she could certainly understand the reasons why. She had to do something to convince him that none of this was his fault, that it was completely out of his control, and that losing that control was not a failure on his part, but a part of being human. But how could she accomplish the seemingly impossible? She had already used all these arguments - seemingly to no avail - and she dreaded what the guilt and shame he was suffering would do to him in the long run. Oh, it was all such a mess and she had no idea how to fix it!
The Partridge Family manager had no intention of keeping that promise, of course. He had even taken the precaution of crossing his fingers behind his back when he had spoken the words. He was nothing if not superstitious. And more bad luck was just what they did not need right now.
As the hours passed and Keith slept on, Reuben sat in reflective silence. Studying the young singer, he could barely believe the events of the past day. It was difficult to conceive how such a catastrophe could occur within such a short space of time. Twenty four hours or so before, they had been carefree and excited at the prospect of having their tour filmed. No-one in the family had even suspected that by the end of the night, one of their number would be in such a dreadful condition, least of all the young man himself. Reuben had been thrown some curve balls in his time as a manager, but this one was a doozy. And it was made worse by the fact that he was so personally involved.
The Partridge Family was comprised of six very individual, very different human beings. Shirley, the benign matriarch of the group with her warmth and wisdom. Laurie, pert and attractive, a devout believer in causes. Danny, the livewire, whose avaricious tendencies equalled and occasionally surpassed Reuben's own. Chris, with his easygoing nature and ready smile. Tracy, whose sharp eyes missed nothing. She was going to be a heartbreaker when she got older, Reuben could tell. And then there was Keith, the eldest child, lead singer, songwriter and Romeo extraordinaire. Unofficial leader of the group, talented, good looking and a born romantic - which was how, of course, he wrote all those great songs about love. He fell in love at least twice a month and his entire family regarded his reputation with the girls with affectionate amusement - as they did Danny's money-making schemes, Laurie's passion for her causes and the scrapes which Chris and Tracy got into.
But as individual and exceptional as they all were, they shared one very important trait. An unconditional love for one another; one that transcended the petty squabbling, the misdemeanours and the occasional flawed schemes. When one was hurt, they all hurt, and if there was trouble, they banded together so fast and so completely that there was no separating them. They were all highly protective of one another. They might be able to hurl insults at their own brothers and sisters or scheme against them, but woe betide any outsider who tried the same thing. This was a family, who took that term seriously and lived up to all its implications. And they enjoyed each other's company. Despite the incessant teasing of one another, Laurie and Keith thought nothing of spending time together and it was a similar picture with Keith and Danny. Chris and Tracy were virtually inseparable and Laurie and her mom shared a very special mother/daughter relationship. They were a warm and generous bunch of people. And they had welcomed him into their little enclave. He spent more time with them either on the road or at their home than he did at his own bachelor pad, although that changed when Bonnie was in town, of course. From the outset, they had made him feel welcome and that had progressed to gentle, familial teasing. Now, he was more or less a member of the family. Birthdays, Christmas and holidays had been spent at the Partridge home. There had been laughter, tears and lots of enjoyment along the way.
Now, staring down at the pallid face of their 'leader', he wondered if anything would ever be the same again.
*****
Morning came and with it, the dawn chorus began, whistling a melodic tune to greet the slowly rising sun. As the first tendrils of light speared through the window, banishing the dark shadows and gradually bringing radiance to the room, so Keith began to stir.
The first sign of his return to full awareness was the merest shudder of his slight body under the sheets and a mumbled, incoherent half-sentence. Reuben, close to nodding off in the chair, was instantly alert, rubbing his eyes free of the grittiness of a sleepless night. Leaning forward, he laid a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder, letting him know that he wasn't alone. Another mumble, this time the words more discernible. "Mom …Mom …?"
"Easy, kid, easy," Reuben soothed as the young singer tossed restlessly. "It's okay. Your mom's here. I'm here. Keith …?"
The long dark eyelashes fluttered against pallid cheeks, blinking sleepily until they finally opened to reveal confused hazel eyes peering out onto the world. "Reuben …?" The teenager's voice was hoarse and hesitant and his face was puckered in a bewildered frown.
"Yeah, kid, it's me," confirmed the manager with a smile.
The frown deepened. "I don't understand. I …"
"Sssh, sshh, kid, it's okay." Reuben patted Keith's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't try to figure it out. You had a rough day yesterday."
Keith nodded. The memories of the previous 24 hours were a little fuzzy to say the least. He remembered bits and pieces but it was all so jumbled. Pain. There had been pain. He could still feel a twinge here and there - his lungs, for instance, felt like they had been put through a wringer - but the actual discomfort itself was but a distant echo in his memory. Something he recalled with a shudder without exactly knowing now how it had actually felt. He recollected some of the events from the night before - how Joni had used him, forcing him into a situation where he was no longer in control, And as his mind sorted through the chaos of his own thoughts and memories, processing them into some semblance of order, so the guilt and shame returned, assailing him with such force it physically hurt.
As Reuben watched, the bloodless face blanched even whiter and tears appeared in the big brown eyes, one spilling over to trace a fine wet trail down one stark white cheek. "Hey, hey," he said, consolingly, "it's okay, Keith. It's gonna be fine."
The lower lip trembled as Keith regarded him. "No, it's not!" he sobbed. "Reuben …"
"I know, kid, I know." Reuben was lost as his young charge's emotions tried to swamp them both.
"I'm sorry …"
"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? You didn't do anything!"
"'xactly." More tears made their way down the ashen face. "I didn't do anything to stop her."
"Right. And can you tell me just exactly what you would have done?" Reuben demanded. "That girl was bad, through and through. Whatever happens to her - well, she deserves it!"
Keith stared at the manager open-mouthed. He had never heard such venom in Reuben's voice before. "But …"
His protest was cut off as Reuben rose from the chair and started pacing. "She used you, Keith," he said, furiously. "She used you for her own ends and then left when the going was good. She's no good, and no-one saw that. Not one of us. You hear? We were all taken in by her - even Greg believed her and he'd had experience of her doing this kind of thing before. Only last time her victim wasn't so lucky." Greg had finally related to him the tale of Joni's previous 'conquest' and the ultimate consequences of his foray into the world of drugs, courtesy of Joni herself. He shuddered as he realised how close they had come to losing Keith to the same kind of tragedy. It had been damn close. It had been too damn close by far.
He shook his head to clear it of the horrifying image which had suddenly presented itself there. Keith Partridge, star of the family, apple of his mom's eye, lying in a twisted, pitiful heap on the floor. Not moving. Not breathing. Dead. A cold shiver travelled the length of his spine. Then he became aware that he was being regarded in wide-eyed astonishment by said Partridge Family star - very much alive and seemingly, so Reuben recognised, belatedly, at least partly recovered from the effects of the narcotics and alcohol Joni had forced into him twenty four hours earlier.
"Uh, how do you feel?" he asked the young singer, returning to the bed and peering down at him, intently.
Reuben had switched gears so suddenly that it took a moment for Keith to assimilate the question. "Um .. slight headache," he replied, uncertainly, "and my chest hurts, but … better. I feel … better." And it was true, he suddenly realised, with a jolt of surprise at the revelation. He did feel better. It hadn't occurred to him upon first awakening, although he had been vaguely aware of feeling much worse than this the last time he was awake. He hadn't thought to examine that thought, however, because of the memories which had rushed in on him, but it was true. Everything ached of course, like he'd gone ten rounds with a grizzly, but he could breathe easier and his limbs no longer hurt every time he moved. Even his headache had eased from the agony which had almost blinded him not a few hours before. "I do, Reuben," he confirmed, in wonder. "I feel better. I … I'm thirsty, though …"
"Thirsty?" Reuben stared at him blankly for a moment, then, "Thirsty ! Of course you are! I'll get you some water. Wait there. Don't go away. I'll - right I'll go get some water."
The Reuben of a few moments before had unnerved Keith somewhat. This Reuben, however, was acting completely in character. Bumbling, nervous and flustered. It almost brought a smile to his face. Almost. Before he knew it, the manager had returned, bearing a glass of water with as much pride as if he was offering the young man an Academy Award. Carefully, Keith struggled to a sitting position in bed and leaned back gratefully against the pillows which Reuben hastily piled behind him. Accepting the glass from the older man, he wrapped both hands around it - partly to keep it still, he was still pretty shaky - and savoured the chill against his skin. He took a cautious sip, then another and another, until eventually, he drained the glass and handed it back.
"You really needed that, huh?" Reuben commented, approvingly, as he studied the glass and noticed the return of some colour to the boy's pale face. The hours of relentless worry were almost forgotten as he ruffled Keith's hair, and was rewarded with a hesitant half-smile. "You know, you should probably eat something," he continued, more sternly, as he assiduously studied the thin form which even the covers did nothing to conceal. The boy needed nourishment, that was for sure. "I could call room service …"
"I don't know," said Keith, doubtfully, shifting uncomfortably under Reuben's scrutiny and very much aware of its cause. Reuben had voiced his concerns before about his lead singer's slenderness. He couldn't help it usually. He expended a lot of energy on stage - and in the normal course of a day, come to that. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy his food, or that he didn't eat. He had always figured that he had a very high metabolism. And he wasn't the only one. Laurie, too, was very slim but no-one ever seemed to worry about her. Occasionally he had felt ever so slightly picked on. It had been a great relief when Danny had gone on his slimming kick for Gloria Hickey's party - except that they'd all ended up as untrained counsellors to Reuben and Danny at all hours of the night and day. That had been a nightmare. But not as much as a nightmare as this was. And that's what he wished it was. Something he could just wake up from; to discover that it had never actually occurred. That way he could be free from the guilt and shame which still beset him like twin beasts. He knew Mom and Reuben blamed themselves for the mess he was in now - and he didn't for the life in him understand why. It just added confusion to his disgrace and the contempt he still felt for himself. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep and forget everything that had happened, but Reuben's attention was still riveted on him and he was obviously not going to go away until he got the answer he wanted. Oh what the hell … "Okay," he demurred in defeat. "Send for something from room service, Rueben. Only … "
"Only what?" enquired the manager genially as he started to turn away with a triumphant grin.
"Make it something simple, huh? I … I don't think I could stomach anything spicy or .. cooked right now."
"Don't worry, kid," said Reuben, slapping him gently on the shoulder as he turned to use the phone. "How's plain toast and scrambled eggs sound?"
Keith forced a sickly grin. "Yuck?" he managed.
Meanwhile, on the sofa across the room, Shirley surreptitiously wiped away a stray tear at the conversation. She had woken up at Reuben's tirade and had been an avid listener ever since. It broke her heart to hear the sadness in her son's voice, but she was so relieved that he seemed recovered now, if not from his emotional pain, then at least from the physical suffering. He was alert and talking and everything. He had even managed a little humour. Once again, she thanked god for Reuben. His no-nonsense style and the love he had for the family was proving to be one of its biggest assets.
Breakfast was slow in coming. While they waited, Reuben kept up a steady stream of conversation, sticking mostly to inane subjects as well as a rather one-sided discussion about the family members and their personal 'quirks'. For once, he didn't mention the scheduled performance, nor voice his worries about how the family were going to perform with their star out of commission. Nor did he make any allusions to what had happened to the young man, figuring that he didn't need the reminders - not if that haunted, lost expression in his eyes was anything to go by.
For his part, Keith merely sat back and let Reuben waffle on. The manager was in full flow and even had the teenager wanted to interrupt, he would have been hard pressed to do so. He couldn't get a word in edgewise. So, he offered up the occasional "yes, Reuben," and "No, Reuben," as the circumstance demanded and tried very hard not to think about the direction in which his life appeared to have gone.
Shirley, lying on the sofa, feigning sleep, listened as Reuben's voice continued, She knew he was trying to distract Keith from his problems - and subtly remind him that he had a loving family to support him at the same time. Why else mention each and every member of that family by name and at such great length? She also knew that it seemed to be having little if no effect on her firstborn. His muted responses to the manager's words tore at her heart. There was such despair behind them, such utter desolation. She had spent many sleepless hours during the night racking her brains for a way to help her eldest son and had come up empty. She couldn't bear to see him so dispirited, so desperately unhappy, although she could certainly understand the reasons why. She had to do something to convince him that none of this was his fault, that it was completely out of his control, and that losing that control was not a failure on his part, but a part of being human. But how could she accomplish the seemingly impossible? She had already used all these arguments - seemingly to no avail - and she dreaded what the guilt and shame he was suffering would do to him in the long run. Oh, it was all such a mess and she had no idea how to fix it!