Room service finally arrived, accompanied by Laurie and Danny. Together with Willie, they had kept the two youngest Partridges amused and distracted the previous night until, finally, completely worn out, they had gone to their rooms to get some much-needed sleep - ensuring the kids were in bed first. Willie had bidden them 'goodnight' in the foyer and had left for his own bed.
Both had awoken with the first stirrings of dawn and arrived at Reuben's suite simultaneously - just as breakfast was being delivered. The pleasant aroma of toast and the coffee Reuben had ordered for himself wafted through the hall, awakening their own hunger and they eagerly placed their own order for breakfast with the staff member who had delivered Reuben's.
When they entered the suite, both were delighted and relieved to find their elder brother awake and alert. But it soon became painfully clear that whilst his physical strength might be returning and his body was healing after its ordeal, the same could not be said for his emotional state. Oh, he put on a good act in front of them, but they both knew him well enough to recognise it for what it was - an act. It hurt them to see him so disconsolate and withdrawn and Laurie's own feelings of remorse for her inability to recognise Joni's addiction for what it was returned in full force.
By this time. Shirley had stopped pretending that she was asleep and had crossed the room to wish her eldest son good morning, cupping the pallid face in one hand and kissing him lightly on the forehead. Her heart ached at the feeble smile she received in return. All she wanted to do was take him in her arms and hold him until the pain was gone. But it wouldn't help. She knew that. So she settled for smiling gently at him and taking one limp, unresponsive hand in her own, stroking the long fingers tenderly with her thumb.
Breakfast was a rather silent affair. Reuben tucked into his cooked meal with gusto, obviously enjoying every last morsel. His enthusiasm did not go unnoticed by the others. They watched in near fascination as he gobbled down the food, ensuring that his plate was clean at the end by wiping up the remains of fried egg and bacon with his bread roll. His coffee tasted wonderful and was a much needed stimulant if he was going to stay awake all day. As he replaced his cup, reaching for the pot to pour himself another, he became aware that he was being observed and glanced up..
"What?" he demanded, querulously. All four Partridges were staring at him in something akin to mixed awe and amusement, half-smiles dancing around at least three of the faces.
Shirley smothered a full grin. "Well, Reuben," she said, "I was just wondering if you were going to eat the plate as well."
He sniffed. "I don't know what you mean," he replied, huffily.
"Mr Kincaid, you personify greediness," commented Danny, folding his arms and regarding the manager with a huge smirk.
"Greediness?" spluttered Reuben. "Personify?? I don't … I would … since when do you know words like 'personify', Danny Partridge?"
The redhead shrugged noncholantly. "I go to school," he replied.
"I know you go to school," Reuben said, scornfully. "I just didn't think you actually learned anything there."
"Well, I do! I learn a lot at school. For instance, I learn it's rude to gulp your meals down and that if you do that, you'll only get indigestion."
"Indigestion?" Reuben scoffed. "I won't get indigestion."
"Is that because you always eat like that and your stomach's made of cast iron and is used to it?"
Danny's voice was deceptively sweet and Reuben suddenly experienced a fervent desire to wipe the smile off his face. But he wasn't a child batterer and besides, Shirley would kill him. So he resisted the impulse. But only just. "I tell you what, Danny," he said, forcing calmness into his voice. "You eat the way you want and I'll eat the way I want. How does that sound?"
"Like a cop out," Danny replied.
"A cop out? Why, you .. you .."
"Children! Children !" Shirley interjected, sensing a full scale battle about to be launched and not sure it was a good idea, considering the circumstances at present. She glanced at Keith then turned back to the two protagonists. "Let's just stop fighting and let Reuben finish him meal. That is, if you're going to eat the napkin as well, Reuben?"
He just stared at her. Betrayed by a fellow adult. It was enough to make a grown man cry. "Well, if that's the way you feel," he said, crabbily, "I'll eat in private from now on."
"Oh Reuben, you know we don't mean it." Laurie tried to pour oil on troubled waters, but they all knew that this was just for show. An act in an attempt to pretend things were normal.
But things weren't normal. When Shirley glanced back at Keith, she noted that he had barely touched the food that had been set in front of him and her heart sank. She tried not to say anything but mother's instincts over-rode good sense and she leaned over him, pushing stray tendrils of dark hair away from his face.
"Aren't you hungry, honey?" she asked him, gently.
He shook his head. "I … I don't think I'm ready yet," he whispered. "Please, mom, can you take it away?"
She couldn't resist that note in his voice. He looked like a little boy, not her almost grown-up son. He was lost and sad and hurt and more than ever she wanted to take him in her arms and protect him from all the bad things in life. But it was too late for that. The bad things had already come and got him. And he might never recover from it.
Laurie, watching, could take no more. "Oh god, Keith," she sobbed, flinging herself onto the bed and hugging him as tightly as she dared, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault! I should have realised … but I didn't … I'm so, so sorry!"
"Laurie …" Shirley watched, horrified, as her eldest daughter threw herself at Keith, accepting all the blame for his condition without a moment's thought. For his part, Keith looked utterly bewildered and stunned, even as he automatically wrapped his arms around his sister, trying to comfort her for something he knew was his responsibility, and feeling completely dazed by the amount of people trying to accept the blame.
"Laurie …" His voice tailed off as she cried bitterly into his shoulder, gripping him so tightly that it almost hurt. He could feel her distress pouring off her in waves and involuntarily, a tear escaped from him, too.
Danny was stupefied. He couldn't believe this was happening. The family was unravelling before his eyes and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Tearing his gaze away from the emotional scene in front of him for a moment, he risked a glance at Reuben, who seemed just as dismayed as he was. The manager just shrugged at him, helplessly and Danny returned to observing the hysterical sobbing of his older sister, shifting uncomfortably and fervently wishing he was anywhere but here.
It took some moments before Laurie could get herself under sufficient control to realise what she was doing. Her actions had been instinctive and emotionally motivated. As her sobbing died away, she began to feel ever so slightly chagrined and lifted herself out of her brother's arms with an embarrassed sniffle. She couldn't look him in the face at first, but eventually caught him staring at her out of the corner of her eyes and shrugged self-consciously. "Oh brother," she managed, with a hiccup, "I … I'm, sorry, Keith. I mean … I'm sorry for doing that. I … I didn't hurt you, did I?" This last as she realised she had been practically pinning him to the bed during her outburst.
He shook his head, still too confounded to speak. He couldn't understand where all this self-recrimination was coming from. If anyone was to blame, then it was him. All this insistence on apportioning accountability elsewhere for what had happened was beginning to grate just a little.
Shirley slipped an arm around her daughter as Laurie rose rather shakily from the bed. There was the suspicious evidence of moisture in her own eyes as she exchanged glances with the attractive brunette.
"I … I'm sorry, Mom …"
"Oh honey, it's all right," Shirley reassured her. "I know how you feel. But really, it's not your fault, you know. I already told you, you couldn't know what Joni was really doing. After all, she spun a good tale. We were all fooled. If anyone's to blame for all of this then it's me - I should have never have let Keith go to that party. If I hadn't then this wouldn't have happened and …"
"Now, now, Shirl," Reuben interjected, hastily, "We all know that I should have been watching out for Keith's best interests. That's what I'm here for after all. I've been around people like this before - well, you know, in my line of work you see all kinds, " he hurried to explain off their shocked expressions. "I should have seen this coming. I feel responsible for all of this and …"
Keith had had enough. He felt bad enough, without having everyone around him constantly condemning themselves for something which was his fault and his fault alone. Wasn't it enough that he was so disgusted at himself, felt himself to be an odious human being with no redeeming features? Now he was not only sickened by his own worthlessness, he was being forced to listen to everyone else in the room torment themselves for no good reason. It was purgatory - and it was also confusing the hell out of him.
"Stop it! Just … stop it!" he yelled, becoming completely overwrought. "How can you all be to blame? It was my fault - all of it … you can't blame yourselves. You shouldn't. It wasn't your fault. It was mine … it was all mine … I let Joni … I mean … oh god …" As he broke down, he found himself enfolded in his mother's comforting embrace and leaned into her, venting his frustrations against her shoulder. He could hear her voice soothing him as she stroked his back, but he couldn't make out the words, just the emotions behind them. His mind was whirling with so many different feelings he didn't know how to process them all. He didn't know which one to feel any more, which should take precedence over the others. Guilt, shame, anger, betrayal and hurt all vied for supremacy, and he felt like screaming in an effort to drown them all and stop the clamouring in his brain. Slowly, however, agonisingly slowly, he became more aware of his mother's arms around him and how good it felt to be held in them. And two more emotions entered the equation - love and fear - and they were coming from his mom. Sighing, he gradually let them wash over him, gradually eclipsing all the other feelings. He felt warm in her embrace, warm and loved and safe. And he realised that that safety was what had been taken from him at the hands of Joni. She had made him feel vulnerable, unlovable and constantly threatened. It occurred to him that he hadn't felt secure like this since this whole thing had begun, and he revelled in the love which was radiating from his mom, recognising at last that in her at least he had an ally, someone who would never abandon him no matter what had happened, no matter what he had done. He was still tormented by the memories of what had happened, what he had allowed Joni to do, regardless of how supposedly helpless he had been and he realised that right now, he didn't care if he never saw another girl as long as he lived - partly because he didn't know how he was going to react if they came onto him. But he had regained a little trust in himself, because his mom trusted him, and, strangely enough, because of the self-reproach from everyone else which had driven him to his eruption. He still couldn't understand why everyone else was so intent on censuring themselves and he didn't agree with it - any of it, but somewhere deep within a small tendril of hope flared and a little healing began.
As his breathing eased and he grew still in her arms, Shirley eased back, lifting his chin from her shoulder and peering intently into his face. She felt a pang of sorrow at the new lines of strain there; the dark shadows still so evident under the brimming brown eyes, but there was a small spark in those eyes now, a flare of life which gladdened her mother's heart. The healing process had a long way to go, she knew, but it had begun at least, and much faster than she had ever anticipated or even begun to hope for. It must be something to do with the love he felt from his family, she decided, although a large part was attributable to his tremendous will and his own ability to bounce back from adversity - he'd shown that before time after time, most especially when his father had died and he had stayed strong for the others, despite his own pain. She had been so proud of him then. She was proud of him now and as he found a smile for her, her heart quickened. It wasn't the full, dimpled grin for which she loved him so, and which attracted the girls in droves at their concerts, but it was a start. "Honey?" It was an unvoiced question and he nodded, slightly.
"Yeah … I … I'm okay, mom," he said, in a voice made husky by emotion. "I … I will be anyway …"
She nodded, and hugged him to her again and he went willingly into her arms, snuggling up against her, needing the contact, the reassurance. She knew that there would be long, dark days ahead, days when he would succumb to the almost overwhelming depression which was still lurking beneath his outward countenance. There would be many problems to overcome apart from that, too - he was not going to be the same ever again. Something within him had been irrevocably changed now. It was up to all of them to provide the love and reassurance he would need to get him through the days ahead. She only hoped they were all up to the challenge.
Danny and Laurie, watching, could see the slight change in their older brother, witnessed the small smile he bestowed upon their mom and heard his words. He was going to get better. Their brother was back. They both smiled thankfully as they stood, with their arms around each other, basking in the new day and the sunlight which now streamed gloriously through the window. Reuben, however, could see the new shadows in his young singer's eyes, couldn't help but notice the furrowed brow and the strained smile. Everything was such an effort, and it was going to remain so for some time to come. He hoped that Keith would recover from all of this - but he wasn't entirely sure that that was going to happen. And he still held on to his terrible secret, one which he had no intention of ever sharing with the Shirley. She would have enough to contend with, helping her eldest son get over this trauma, helping him forget - or at least forgive himself. His manager's instincts never far from the surface, he couldn't help but wonder whether this was the end of them as a group. How could Keith even function as a singer again when his confidence had been so undermined? When his ebullient nature was so damaged? It saddened Reuben to think of the talent which might ultimately go to waste because of Joni and her selfish desires. And once again he wished she was dead.
*****
A few hours later, he learned that he had gotten that wish. It gave him no pleasure, nor did it bring any solace to Shirley when she heard from Greg about the girl's untimely and terrible demise. Joni had done immeasurable damage to her son, and she hated her. But now she found herself feeling very sorry for her, too. In the end, her own weakness had killed her and although she had deserved punishment, she had not deserved to die in that way, alone, in such terrible conditions, away from everyone who might have loved her. However, it was the life she had chosen for herself and thus she had chosen her own destiny.
Keith wasn't told about Joni right away, but he wasn't stupid, or slow and he learned about her death from the others' reactions. Laurie and Danny had found out from their mom and had strict instructions not to mention her to their brother.
Danny felt vindicated at first, commenting that she had deserved to die and he was glad, but he went very quiet very suddenly and Laurie sensed that he was regretting his words, that he felt responsible for the girl's death - almost as though he had killed her. She knew there was nothing she could do to assuage that guilt but she tried anyway. It seemed that, even from beyond the grave, Joni had a way of reaching out and hurting people.
Keith was not surprised when he realised what they were hiding from him. Joni had been on a path of self-destruction and had seemed intent on taking others with her, including him. It didn't make him feel any less wretched but something within him seemed to take a sick pleasure in knowing that the heroin to which she had tried to get him addicted had taken her life, and that in itself only served to heighten his self-disgust.
Still, the utter depression which he had felt at the height of the narcotic's hold seemed to have lessened - which he put down to the intensity of the drug's effect on his emotions, and he recovered very quickly from the physical legacies of the heroin. The muscle pain, the strained lungs, the headaches had soon eased to bearable levels. By the third day after the ordeal had begun he was up and about, itching for something to do - partly to take his mind off the memories which continued to beset him, and, finding his guitar, began to play around with it, strumming quietly to himself. He had moved from Reuben's room back to his own and had been relieved to do so. His mom had continued to hover over him as though she feared a relapse or something and it had been driving him crazy. Not that Danny was any better. He never seemed to be out of the room, and if he was, he found excuses to return, some of them too implausible to take seriously. Keith longed to yell at him, to tell him to leave him the heck alone and go and do something useful, like take a long walk off a short pier, but feared that if he did so, everyone would turn up and fuss over him, worrying about his show of bad temper. So he endured it for the most part, scowling at the redhead behind his back and forcing a smile onto his face even whilst speaking to him in clipped, curt tones.
The concerts they had been intended to perform had been postponed - at Keith's request. They had cited 'illness' as a cause. Keith had told Reuben that to cancel entirely was something he didn't want to do. After all, they owed it to their audience and the people who hired them to give some performances and he wasn't about to disappoint anyone. But he wasn't sure, either, that he could go back on stage. It was the second time in his life that he had suffered from stage fright. He remembered how his mom had conquered their fears the first time - 'close your eyes and pretend you're performing in the garage'. He wondered if that would work this time. Could he do it? There was only one way to find out - and if anyone was up for the challenge, then he was. If he could only forget about everything else. If only the memories would leave him alone!
*****
Two nights later, the Partridge Family made their first stage appearance in Denver in a small out of the way club which was, nevertheless, packed to the gills with fans and patrons alike. Keith paced endlessly backstage prior to the concert, and nothing anyone could say to him could calm him down. He knew he was beginning to freak everyone else out but there didn't seem to be anything he could do to stop it. He was petrified and he knew that it showed. But he was determined that he had to do this. Performing - singing, leading this group - was his whole life. He didn't know how to do anything else as well as this. Besides, he loved the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of power once he got onstage and the sheer enjoyment everyone in the audience derived from their songs. It was like a drug … 'bad analogy', he muttered to himself, then realised he had spoken aloud and all five members of his family were staring at him. He shrugged with an embarrassed laugh and stalked out of the door to pace the corridor instead. At least this would give his family a break.
Ten minutes later he was on stage, surrounded by the people who loved him, with everyone waiting expectantly for him to begin. His throat was dry, he felt hot and sticky, his head was spinning and his knees felt wobbly. All in all, he was convinced that at any moment, he was going to make a complete ass of himself and crumple to the floor in a dead faint. The mic was a living thing in his hands, the thrum of electricity running through it a counterpoint to his own erratic pulse. There was an awful anticipatory silence, then Danny, taking the situation into his own hands, strummed a chord on his guitar. Luckily, it was the right one and as he led them into the first song, so the anticipation diminished somewhat, easing the pressure on the eldest of the Partridge brood. As the instruments joined in - Tracy's tamborine, Shirley's and Laurie's keyboards and Chris's drums, so Keith relaxed a little and even as the harmony hit a peak, introducing the singing part, so he launched into the first notes of 'Summer Days'. His voice was strong, melodious and perfectly pitched. It soared over the instruments, reaching sweetly over the audience, enrapturing them and binding them in the spell that he weaved so expertly and so unwittingly. As was his practice during this particular song, he went to each of the family members in turn and found in their ready smiles and reassuring glances more strength and courage than he ever thought he had possessed. There was thunderous applause as the song built to a crescendo and finished and the family bowed thankfully to the audience's approbation. Their next tune was the catchy 'That'll Be The Day' and after another hour, they finished with 'I Can Feel Your Heartbeat'. As they completed the set, the audience, as one, offered them a standing ovation and they took several bows.
They had to come back for an encore - performing 'One Of Those Nights' and 'Lay It On The Line', then, exhausted but giddy with relief and exhilaration, they left the stage.
"Well, that was really something!" panted Laurie as they made their way down the steps to the dressing rooms.
"It sure was," agreed Danny, heartily. "I think we should go back again and do one more song."
"Danny, we're exhausted," his mother told him, firmly. "Besides, I don't think my fingers would let me play one more note."
"Me neither," agreed Laurie. "How about you, Keith?"
Their lead singer had barely been listening. He was feeling just the slightest bit dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. It had been a glorious night - even more so because of what it had taken to get them here. He felt very much like he could fly and it was taking him all his time to keep his feet on the ground instead of soaring above everyone in pure relief. "Huh? " came the intelligent answer to Laurie's question. "What?"
"I don't think Keith's quite with us, Mom," teased the brunette. "In fact, I suspect that he'd like to go out and do it all over again. Maybe you and Danny could form a duo and go out together," she ventured to her dazed looking brother. "We'll just go and put our feet up."
"And don't blame us if you lose your voice, or if you, Danny, find your fingers bleeding from too much guitar playing" admonished Shirley, gently.
Keith didn't hear the whole sentence but enough filtered through to confuse him. "Uh?" he spluttered. "What?"
Before Shirley or Laurie could explain, Reuben hurried forward through the throng of well-wishers at the bottom of the stairs and, under the guise of congratulating them on a great set - which praise he meant wholeheartedly - ushered them to their dressing rooms and privacy.
"It was great, great!" he enthused as four of the six sank gratefully into the seats provided in the generous sized room. "How d'you all feel?"
"Exhausted," sighed Shirley, leaning back into her chair with a contented sigh and closing her eyes.
"Likewise," said Laurie, putting her feet up on the coffee table, and ignoring the pointed stare from the manager. "But it was fantastic."
"Keith?"
The young singer smiled at Reuben. His eyes were dancing and the dimpled grin was back in full force, so it seemed. His demons were being held at bay for the time being. "It was really cool, Reuben," he replied, animatedly. "It felt great!"
Shirley had opened one eye and was staring at Keith as he spoke, searching for any deception in his words and bearing. But he was obviously enjoying the moment and she sighed with relief as she exchanged knowing glances with Reuben. This glow of joy couldn't last but they might as well revel in it for as long as they could. And it would behove them to encourage any pleasure which her firstborn might find in performing - or, indeed, in anything else. It might be the only way to get him through the days ahead when the blackness would inevitably descend and darken their lives. The rest of the family was trying very hard not to eye their older brother, but it was difficult when they were all still so worried about him. Even Chris and Tracy, who did not know the circumstances behind his recent incapacity seemed concerned, as well they might be. At least they didn't know the truth. Closing her eyes again, and trying to block out her own memories - images of her suffering son which would remain with her a long time, Shirley swallowed, hard. Keith had managed one performance - had come through with flying colours, in fact, although there had been a few moments there, at the start, where she had been convinced that he was about to faint from nerves. But there were other dates to play, other concerts, more performances and probably more nerves to suppress. And even without the presence of Greg Novak and his entourage, who had packed up and left town, prepared to use what little they had on the family to put together a short piece, the spectre of Joni and her actions loomed large and would continue to do so for some time.
It was going to be a long tour. And an especially long summer.
THE END
Both had awoken with the first stirrings of dawn and arrived at Reuben's suite simultaneously - just as breakfast was being delivered. The pleasant aroma of toast and the coffee Reuben had ordered for himself wafted through the hall, awakening their own hunger and they eagerly placed their own order for breakfast with the staff member who had delivered Reuben's.
When they entered the suite, both were delighted and relieved to find their elder brother awake and alert. But it soon became painfully clear that whilst his physical strength might be returning and his body was healing after its ordeal, the same could not be said for his emotional state. Oh, he put on a good act in front of them, but they both knew him well enough to recognise it for what it was - an act. It hurt them to see him so disconsolate and withdrawn and Laurie's own feelings of remorse for her inability to recognise Joni's addiction for what it was returned in full force.
By this time. Shirley had stopped pretending that she was asleep and had crossed the room to wish her eldest son good morning, cupping the pallid face in one hand and kissing him lightly on the forehead. Her heart ached at the feeble smile she received in return. All she wanted to do was take him in her arms and hold him until the pain was gone. But it wouldn't help. She knew that. So she settled for smiling gently at him and taking one limp, unresponsive hand in her own, stroking the long fingers tenderly with her thumb.
Breakfast was a rather silent affair. Reuben tucked into his cooked meal with gusto, obviously enjoying every last morsel. His enthusiasm did not go unnoticed by the others. They watched in near fascination as he gobbled down the food, ensuring that his plate was clean at the end by wiping up the remains of fried egg and bacon with his bread roll. His coffee tasted wonderful and was a much needed stimulant if he was going to stay awake all day. As he replaced his cup, reaching for the pot to pour himself another, he became aware that he was being observed and glanced up..
"What?" he demanded, querulously. All four Partridges were staring at him in something akin to mixed awe and amusement, half-smiles dancing around at least three of the faces.
Shirley smothered a full grin. "Well, Reuben," she said, "I was just wondering if you were going to eat the plate as well."
He sniffed. "I don't know what you mean," he replied, huffily.
"Mr Kincaid, you personify greediness," commented Danny, folding his arms and regarding the manager with a huge smirk.
"Greediness?" spluttered Reuben. "Personify?? I don't … I would … since when do you know words like 'personify', Danny Partridge?"
The redhead shrugged noncholantly. "I go to school," he replied.
"I know you go to school," Reuben said, scornfully. "I just didn't think you actually learned anything there."
"Well, I do! I learn a lot at school. For instance, I learn it's rude to gulp your meals down and that if you do that, you'll only get indigestion."
"Indigestion?" Reuben scoffed. "I won't get indigestion."
"Is that because you always eat like that and your stomach's made of cast iron and is used to it?"
Danny's voice was deceptively sweet and Reuben suddenly experienced a fervent desire to wipe the smile off his face. But he wasn't a child batterer and besides, Shirley would kill him. So he resisted the impulse. But only just. "I tell you what, Danny," he said, forcing calmness into his voice. "You eat the way you want and I'll eat the way I want. How does that sound?"
"Like a cop out," Danny replied.
"A cop out? Why, you .. you .."
"Children! Children !" Shirley interjected, sensing a full scale battle about to be launched and not sure it was a good idea, considering the circumstances at present. She glanced at Keith then turned back to the two protagonists. "Let's just stop fighting and let Reuben finish him meal. That is, if you're going to eat the napkin as well, Reuben?"
He just stared at her. Betrayed by a fellow adult. It was enough to make a grown man cry. "Well, if that's the way you feel," he said, crabbily, "I'll eat in private from now on."
"Oh Reuben, you know we don't mean it." Laurie tried to pour oil on troubled waters, but they all knew that this was just for show. An act in an attempt to pretend things were normal.
But things weren't normal. When Shirley glanced back at Keith, she noted that he had barely touched the food that had been set in front of him and her heart sank. She tried not to say anything but mother's instincts over-rode good sense and she leaned over him, pushing stray tendrils of dark hair away from his face.
"Aren't you hungry, honey?" she asked him, gently.
He shook his head. "I … I don't think I'm ready yet," he whispered. "Please, mom, can you take it away?"
She couldn't resist that note in his voice. He looked like a little boy, not her almost grown-up son. He was lost and sad and hurt and more than ever she wanted to take him in her arms and protect him from all the bad things in life. But it was too late for that. The bad things had already come and got him. And he might never recover from it.
Laurie, watching, could take no more. "Oh god, Keith," she sobbed, flinging herself onto the bed and hugging him as tightly as she dared, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault! I should have realised … but I didn't … I'm so, so sorry!"
"Laurie …" Shirley watched, horrified, as her eldest daughter threw herself at Keith, accepting all the blame for his condition without a moment's thought. For his part, Keith looked utterly bewildered and stunned, even as he automatically wrapped his arms around his sister, trying to comfort her for something he knew was his responsibility, and feeling completely dazed by the amount of people trying to accept the blame.
"Laurie …" His voice tailed off as she cried bitterly into his shoulder, gripping him so tightly that it almost hurt. He could feel her distress pouring off her in waves and involuntarily, a tear escaped from him, too.
Danny was stupefied. He couldn't believe this was happening. The family was unravelling before his eyes and there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Tearing his gaze away from the emotional scene in front of him for a moment, he risked a glance at Reuben, who seemed just as dismayed as he was. The manager just shrugged at him, helplessly and Danny returned to observing the hysterical sobbing of his older sister, shifting uncomfortably and fervently wishing he was anywhere but here.
It took some moments before Laurie could get herself under sufficient control to realise what she was doing. Her actions had been instinctive and emotionally motivated. As her sobbing died away, she began to feel ever so slightly chagrined and lifted herself out of her brother's arms with an embarrassed sniffle. She couldn't look him in the face at first, but eventually caught him staring at her out of the corner of her eyes and shrugged self-consciously. "Oh brother," she managed, with a hiccup, "I … I'm, sorry, Keith. I mean … I'm sorry for doing that. I … I didn't hurt you, did I?" This last as she realised she had been practically pinning him to the bed during her outburst.
He shook his head, still too confounded to speak. He couldn't understand where all this self-recrimination was coming from. If anyone was to blame, then it was him. All this insistence on apportioning accountability elsewhere for what had happened was beginning to grate just a little.
Shirley slipped an arm around her daughter as Laurie rose rather shakily from the bed. There was the suspicious evidence of moisture in her own eyes as she exchanged glances with the attractive brunette.
"I … I'm sorry, Mom …"
"Oh honey, it's all right," Shirley reassured her. "I know how you feel. But really, it's not your fault, you know. I already told you, you couldn't know what Joni was really doing. After all, she spun a good tale. We were all fooled. If anyone's to blame for all of this then it's me - I should have never have let Keith go to that party. If I hadn't then this wouldn't have happened and …"
"Now, now, Shirl," Reuben interjected, hastily, "We all know that I should have been watching out for Keith's best interests. That's what I'm here for after all. I've been around people like this before - well, you know, in my line of work you see all kinds, " he hurried to explain off their shocked expressions. "I should have seen this coming. I feel responsible for all of this and …"
Keith had had enough. He felt bad enough, without having everyone around him constantly condemning themselves for something which was his fault and his fault alone. Wasn't it enough that he was so disgusted at himself, felt himself to be an odious human being with no redeeming features? Now he was not only sickened by his own worthlessness, he was being forced to listen to everyone else in the room torment themselves for no good reason. It was purgatory - and it was also confusing the hell out of him.
"Stop it! Just … stop it!" he yelled, becoming completely overwrought. "How can you all be to blame? It was my fault - all of it … you can't blame yourselves. You shouldn't. It wasn't your fault. It was mine … it was all mine … I let Joni … I mean … oh god …" As he broke down, he found himself enfolded in his mother's comforting embrace and leaned into her, venting his frustrations against her shoulder. He could hear her voice soothing him as she stroked his back, but he couldn't make out the words, just the emotions behind them. His mind was whirling with so many different feelings he didn't know how to process them all. He didn't know which one to feel any more, which should take precedence over the others. Guilt, shame, anger, betrayal and hurt all vied for supremacy, and he felt like screaming in an effort to drown them all and stop the clamouring in his brain. Slowly, however, agonisingly slowly, he became more aware of his mother's arms around him and how good it felt to be held in them. And two more emotions entered the equation - love and fear - and they were coming from his mom. Sighing, he gradually let them wash over him, gradually eclipsing all the other feelings. He felt warm in her embrace, warm and loved and safe. And he realised that that safety was what had been taken from him at the hands of Joni. She had made him feel vulnerable, unlovable and constantly threatened. It occurred to him that he hadn't felt secure like this since this whole thing had begun, and he revelled in the love which was radiating from his mom, recognising at last that in her at least he had an ally, someone who would never abandon him no matter what had happened, no matter what he had done. He was still tormented by the memories of what had happened, what he had allowed Joni to do, regardless of how supposedly helpless he had been and he realised that right now, he didn't care if he never saw another girl as long as he lived - partly because he didn't know how he was going to react if they came onto him. But he had regained a little trust in himself, because his mom trusted him, and, strangely enough, because of the self-reproach from everyone else which had driven him to his eruption. He still couldn't understand why everyone else was so intent on censuring themselves and he didn't agree with it - any of it, but somewhere deep within a small tendril of hope flared and a little healing began.
As his breathing eased and he grew still in her arms, Shirley eased back, lifting his chin from her shoulder and peering intently into his face. She felt a pang of sorrow at the new lines of strain there; the dark shadows still so evident under the brimming brown eyes, but there was a small spark in those eyes now, a flare of life which gladdened her mother's heart. The healing process had a long way to go, she knew, but it had begun at least, and much faster than she had ever anticipated or even begun to hope for. It must be something to do with the love he felt from his family, she decided, although a large part was attributable to his tremendous will and his own ability to bounce back from adversity - he'd shown that before time after time, most especially when his father had died and he had stayed strong for the others, despite his own pain. She had been so proud of him then. She was proud of him now and as he found a smile for her, her heart quickened. It wasn't the full, dimpled grin for which she loved him so, and which attracted the girls in droves at their concerts, but it was a start. "Honey?" It was an unvoiced question and he nodded, slightly.
"Yeah … I … I'm okay, mom," he said, in a voice made husky by emotion. "I … I will be anyway …"
She nodded, and hugged him to her again and he went willingly into her arms, snuggling up against her, needing the contact, the reassurance. She knew that there would be long, dark days ahead, days when he would succumb to the almost overwhelming depression which was still lurking beneath his outward countenance. There would be many problems to overcome apart from that, too - he was not going to be the same ever again. Something within him had been irrevocably changed now. It was up to all of them to provide the love and reassurance he would need to get him through the days ahead. She only hoped they were all up to the challenge.
Danny and Laurie, watching, could see the slight change in their older brother, witnessed the small smile he bestowed upon their mom and heard his words. He was going to get better. Their brother was back. They both smiled thankfully as they stood, with their arms around each other, basking in the new day and the sunlight which now streamed gloriously through the window. Reuben, however, could see the new shadows in his young singer's eyes, couldn't help but notice the furrowed brow and the strained smile. Everything was such an effort, and it was going to remain so for some time to come. He hoped that Keith would recover from all of this - but he wasn't entirely sure that that was going to happen. And he still held on to his terrible secret, one which he had no intention of ever sharing with the Shirley. She would have enough to contend with, helping her eldest son get over this trauma, helping him forget - or at least forgive himself. His manager's instincts never far from the surface, he couldn't help but wonder whether this was the end of them as a group. How could Keith even function as a singer again when his confidence had been so undermined? When his ebullient nature was so damaged? It saddened Reuben to think of the talent which might ultimately go to waste because of Joni and her selfish desires. And once again he wished she was dead.
*****
A few hours later, he learned that he had gotten that wish. It gave him no pleasure, nor did it bring any solace to Shirley when she heard from Greg about the girl's untimely and terrible demise. Joni had done immeasurable damage to her son, and she hated her. But now she found herself feeling very sorry for her, too. In the end, her own weakness had killed her and although she had deserved punishment, she had not deserved to die in that way, alone, in such terrible conditions, away from everyone who might have loved her. However, it was the life she had chosen for herself and thus she had chosen her own destiny.
Keith wasn't told about Joni right away, but he wasn't stupid, or slow and he learned about her death from the others' reactions. Laurie and Danny had found out from their mom and had strict instructions not to mention her to their brother.
Danny felt vindicated at first, commenting that she had deserved to die and he was glad, but he went very quiet very suddenly and Laurie sensed that he was regretting his words, that he felt responsible for the girl's death - almost as though he had killed her. She knew there was nothing she could do to assuage that guilt but she tried anyway. It seemed that, even from beyond the grave, Joni had a way of reaching out and hurting people.
Keith was not surprised when he realised what they were hiding from him. Joni had been on a path of self-destruction and had seemed intent on taking others with her, including him. It didn't make him feel any less wretched but something within him seemed to take a sick pleasure in knowing that the heroin to which she had tried to get him addicted had taken her life, and that in itself only served to heighten his self-disgust.
Still, the utter depression which he had felt at the height of the narcotic's hold seemed to have lessened - which he put down to the intensity of the drug's effect on his emotions, and he recovered very quickly from the physical legacies of the heroin. The muscle pain, the strained lungs, the headaches had soon eased to bearable levels. By the third day after the ordeal had begun he was up and about, itching for something to do - partly to take his mind off the memories which continued to beset him, and, finding his guitar, began to play around with it, strumming quietly to himself. He had moved from Reuben's room back to his own and had been relieved to do so. His mom had continued to hover over him as though she feared a relapse or something and it had been driving him crazy. Not that Danny was any better. He never seemed to be out of the room, and if he was, he found excuses to return, some of them too implausible to take seriously. Keith longed to yell at him, to tell him to leave him the heck alone and go and do something useful, like take a long walk off a short pier, but feared that if he did so, everyone would turn up and fuss over him, worrying about his show of bad temper. So he endured it for the most part, scowling at the redhead behind his back and forcing a smile onto his face even whilst speaking to him in clipped, curt tones.
The concerts they had been intended to perform had been postponed - at Keith's request. They had cited 'illness' as a cause. Keith had told Reuben that to cancel entirely was something he didn't want to do. After all, they owed it to their audience and the people who hired them to give some performances and he wasn't about to disappoint anyone. But he wasn't sure, either, that he could go back on stage. It was the second time in his life that he had suffered from stage fright. He remembered how his mom had conquered their fears the first time - 'close your eyes and pretend you're performing in the garage'. He wondered if that would work this time. Could he do it? There was only one way to find out - and if anyone was up for the challenge, then he was. If he could only forget about everything else. If only the memories would leave him alone!
*****
Two nights later, the Partridge Family made their first stage appearance in Denver in a small out of the way club which was, nevertheless, packed to the gills with fans and patrons alike. Keith paced endlessly backstage prior to the concert, and nothing anyone could say to him could calm him down. He knew he was beginning to freak everyone else out but there didn't seem to be anything he could do to stop it. He was petrified and he knew that it showed. But he was determined that he had to do this. Performing - singing, leading this group - was his whole life. He didn't know how to do anything else as well as this. Besides, he loved the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of power once he got onstage and the sheer enjoyment everyone in the audience derived from their songs. It was like a drug … 'bad analogy', he muttered to himself, then realised he had spoken aloud and all five members of his family were staring at him. He shrugged with an embarrassed laugh and stalked out of the door to pace the corridor instead. At least this would give his family a break.
Ten minutes later he was on stage, surrounded by the people who loved him, with everyone waiting expectantly for him to begin. His throat was dry, he felt hot and sticky, his head was spinning and his knees felt wobbly. All in all, he was convinced that at any moment, he was going to make a complete ass of himself and crumple to the floor in a dead faint. The mic was a living thing in his hands, the thrum of electricity running through it a counterpoint to his own erratic pulse. There was an awful anticipatory silence, then Danny, taking the situation into his own hands, strummed a chord on his guitar. Luckily, it was the right one and as he led them into the first song, so the anticipation diminished somewhat, easing the pressure on the eldest of the Partridge brood. As the instruments joined in - Tracy's tamborine, Shirley's and Laurie's keyboards and Chris's drums, so Keith relaxed a little and even as the harmony hit a peak, introducing the singing part, so he launched into the first notes of 'Summer Days'. His voice was strong, melodious and perfectly pitched. It soared over the instruments, reaching sweetly over the audience, enrapturing them and binding them in the spell that he weaved so expertly and so unwittingly. As was his practice during this particular song, he went to each of the family members in turn and found in their ready smiles and reassuring glances more strength and courage than he ever thought he had possessed. There was thunderous applause as the song built to a crescendo and finished and the family bowed thankfully to the audience's approbation. Their next tune was the catchy 'That'll Be The Day' and after another hour, they finished with 'I Can Feel Your Heartbeat'. As they completed the set, the audience, as one, offered them a standing ovation and they took several bows.
They had to come back for an encore - performing 'One Of Those Nights' and 'Lay It On The Line', then, exhausted but giddy with relief and exhilaration, they left the stage.
"Well, that was really something!" panted Laurie as they made their way down the steps to the dressing rooms.
"It sure was," agreed Danny, heartily. "I think we should go back again and do one more song."
"Danny, we're exhausted," his mother told him, firmly. "Besides, I don't think my fingers would let me play one more note."
"Me neither," agreed Laurie. "How about you, Keith?"
Their lead singer had barely been listening. He was feeling just the slightest bit dizzy with pleasure and adrenaline. It had been a glorious night - even more so because of what it had taken to get them here. He felt very much like he could fly and it was taking him all his time to keep his feet on the ground instead of soaring above everyone in pure relief. "Huh? " came the intelligent answer to Laurie's question. "What?"
"I don't think Keith's quite with us, Mom," teased the brunette. "In fact, I suspect that he'd like to go out and do it all over again. Maybe you and Danny could form a duo and go out together," she ventured to her dazed looking brother. "We'll just go and put our feet up."
"And don't blame us if you lose your voice, or if you, Danny, find your fingers bleeding from too much guitar playing" admonished Shirley, gently.
Keith didn't hear the whole sentence but enough filtered through to confuse him. "Uh?" he spluttered. "What?"
Before Shirley or Laurie could explain, Reuben hurried forward through the throng of well-wishers at the bottom of the stairs and, under the guise of congratulating them on a great set - which praise he meant wholeheartedly - ushered them to their dressing rooms and privacy.
"It was great, great!" he enthused as four of the six sank gratefully into the seats provided in the generous sized room. "How d'you all feel?"
"Exhausted," sighed Shirley, leaning back into her chair with a contented sigh and closing her eyes.
"Likewise," said Laurie, putting her feet up on the coffee table, and ignoring the pointed stare from the manager. "But it was fantastic."
"Keith?"
The young singer smiled at Reuben. His eyes were dancing and the dimpled grin was back in full force, so it seemed. His demons were being held at bay for the time being. "It was really cool, Reuben," he replied, animatedly. "It felt great!"
Shirley had opened one eye and was staring at Keith as he spoke, searching for any deception in his words and bearing. But he was obviously enjoying the moment and she sighed with relief as she exchanged knowing glances with Reuben. This glow of joy couldn't last but they might as well revel in it for as long as they could. And it would behove them to encourage any pleasure which her firstborn might find in performing - or, indeed, in anything else. It might be the only way to get him through the days ahead when the blackness would inevitably descend and darken their lives. The rest of the family was trying very hard not to eye their older brother, but it was difficult when they were all still so worried about him. Even Chris and Tracy, who did not know the circumstances behind his recent incapacity seemed concerned, as well they might be. At least they didn't know the truth. Closing her eyes again, and trying to block out her own memories - images of her suffering son which would remain with her a long time, Shirley swallowed, hard. Keith had managed one performance - had come through with flying colours, in fact, although there had been a few moments there, at the start, where she had been convinced that he was about to faint from nerves. But there were other dates to play, other concerts, more performances and probably more nerves to suppress. And even without the presence of Greg Novak and his entourage, who had packed up and left town, prepared to use what little they had on the family to put together a short piece, the spectre of Joni and her actions loomed large and would continue to do so for some time.
It was going to be a long tour. And an especially long summer.
THE END