CHAPTER ELEVEN
"We need to get him out of his room," Danny was saying as everyone but Keith, as usual, gathered for lunch.
"We NEED to get him some therapy," Laurie muttered. She was still shocked at her brother's indifference to her. Only one year apart in their ages, Keith and Laurie had had their differences, but they had also been the closest of the Partridge children. What one couldn't think of, the other could. It was almost as if they were twins in some respect. Laurie had loved her big brother the instant she was aware of it; he was her soul-mate, often getting her into trouble as much as helping her get out of it. Not that she had never instigated any of their little devious deeds, but Keith was a natural born leader, and Laurie usually followed him blindly, even with the repercussions that went along with their discretions. He'd always been there for her, and she for him. They were two of a kind, and Laurie could only imagine the frustration they put their parents through. Even when they hit puberty and it was no longer "cool" to hang around each other, and the teasing began, Laurie loved her brother fiercely and knew that he loved her as well. It was the closest thing to marriage either one of them would experience. Through thick and thin, for better or worse, in sickness and in health… So, why, all of a sudden, was Keith pushing her away; now that he needed her the most? She was hurt, befuddled, and not a little angry.
"Laurie, that's not fair," Shirley scolded.
"Mother, anyone who holes himself up like that, not letting any outside forces in, is not rowing with both oars." She had made a pact with Chris and Danny not to mention the Valium, but if Keith didn't come out of his shell and soon, she wasn't averse to going back on her word.
"Actually, Danny's right, and in a small way, Laurie is too. If we could get him out and socializing, THAT would be therapy," Chris said.
"Okay, so, let's do it. Where could we take him?" Ken agreed.
"He likes the beach," Tracy suggested.
"I…think we need to start small. First we need to get him out of the room. Down into the living room or something. We could all leave the house so he won't have us fussing over him, and maybe he'll realize that there really is a world out here, going on in spite of his problems." Chris smiled.
"Well, he's sure adamant about being alone, that's for sure," Laurie frowned.
"He seemed to be okay at the dinner the other night," Tracy nodded. "Then I guess he got to feeling sick or something."
Chris smiled. "Exactly. Everything happened a little too fast for him that night, I think. That's why we need to ease him back into life, here. I mean, he's lost interest in just about everything; a classic sign of depression. He hasn't even mentioned his music, and we all know how much he loves to perform."
Laurie brightened. "Hey, how about if we arrange a concert for him? Just a local thing. That would surely pull him out of this."
Chris and Danny exchanged glances. "I think that would be a little much for now. Maybe later, after he's back into the swing of things…" Chris shook his head.
"Well, whatever we can do, let's do it. He can't go on like this, and neither can we," Shirley said, sipping her coffee.
Everyone at the table agreed.
****
Shirley knocked on Keith's door. "Honey, it's Mom. I'm going to be doing some laundry and I want to change your bedding."
There was no answer, and Shirley frowned, trying the doorknob. Surprisingly, it turned and she opened the door slowly, wincing. Keith wasn't there, and she stepped into the room, looking around. The bed was rumpled and she shook her head, proceeding to strip it. As she did so, the bottle of Valium fell to the floor and she reached down, picking it up. Reading the label, her eyes widened. Valium! That was a strong painkiller; almost like morphine. Was her son in such pain that he needed this? And had he not told anyone? Her heart was in her throat as Keith came in, apparently startled at finding her there.
"Mom!" His eyes went to the bottle in her hand, and he swallowed.
"Keith, what…what is this?"
He wanted to lie to her, to tell her some outlandish thing that she would probably never believe, but the look in her eyes blew that idea all to hell. He shrugged. "It's just what it says it is." He moved over to the desk, leaning on it, only half-wishing she'd go away.
"Oh, honey, is the pain that bad?" She dropped the bedcovers, wanting so badly to just go to him and hold him, and knowing he would probably just push her away, as he'd done everyone else.
He took a deep breath. "Sometimes it is, yeah." He forced a smile. "But I'm pulling through, you know?"
The smile left as quickly as it had come, and Shirley moved toward him as she saw tears fill his eyes. Hesitantly, she put her hand on his shoulder, and he shook his head, the tears making shiny tracks on his face.
"Oh, Keith…" She murmured, throwing caution to the wind and putting her arms around him.
He sagged against her, beginning to sob, and she held him, rubbing his back and shedding a few tears herself.
****
At Danny's suggestion, Keith ventured out into the living room. No one was home; no one would bother him, he'd been promised, and particularly tired of looking at the same four walls every day, Keith had agreed to try and break the depression he was in. He'd felt so melancholy for so long, he'd forgotten that there was indeed, life beyond his room, and he came down the stairs, pausing to look at the painting that Laurie had given Shirley for her birthday; it hung on the wall opposite the banister. It was from a photograph of the six of them taken by one of the most famous rock photographers in the world: Henry Diltz. They were dressed in their green velvet costumes and all of them were smiling happily, as if they didn't have a care in the world. Keith and Laurie were leaning on one another, and he had his arm around Danny's shoulder. They stood behind Chris, Shirley and Tracy, who were seated on stools, and Keith smiled, noting that Chris had his baseball mitt on and was trying to hide it from view. He peered at each face in the painting, trying to read their thoughts. He remembered that photo being taken. They were just about to embark on their 1973 European tour, and their "Crossword Puzzle" album had just been released. Keith remembered grappling with the producer on a couple of the songs; they'd wanted them sung a different way than Keith had written them to be, and it was a battle between management and labor. In the end, Keith got his way, and the album became one of his favorites. He'd tooled around in the studio afterwards, just recording a couple of tunes he'd written on his own; his first attempt at soloing, if you will, but nothing came of it, not until way later on, when he really was a solo act.
A feeling of complete sadness came over him, now, and he moved away from the painting, going to the stereo that sat under the window sill. Of all the albums Mom and the kids collected over the years, she always displayed the Family ones on top, and Keith sifted through them, finally taking the "Crossword Puzzle" one out and putting the record onto the turntable. It sounded scratchy, but comfortable, and Keith smiled, thinking that he should somehow get their recordings onto compact discs if not just for posterity's sake.
The music began and he took a seat on the sofa, feeling just a little awkward at hearing his own voice, but letting the nostalgia sweep across him. He pictured them in the recording studio, going through several takes before they found one fit to press, and he smiled at the endurance of the smaller kids. Those recording sessions were tough on Shirley, Laurie and him, let alone Danny, Chris and Tracy, who gave up a lot of their childhood in order to make this dream of his come true. But the fact that they were just kids was everywhere, no matter what they were doing. Tracy's ever-present dolls, and Chris's beloved baseball glove; Danny's skateboard. Even Laurie had her scrapbooks and craft projects. Shirley was too busy mothering everyone to worry about aesthetics, and Keith was happy as long as he was surrounded by his music; the ability to play it, write it and sing was all he ever needed.
He must have fallen asleep, because he sat up to the sound of the needle going back and forth at the end of the record, and as he moved, pain wracked him. The Valium was upstairs, and he sat there, pressing his head hard into the back of the couch, wishing he had at least some alcohol to numb this pain…
Then his eyes caught the liquor cabinet. He knew that his mother always kept something in there, in case of guests or a dinner party, and he swallowed, pushing off of the sofa, however awkwardly. Sliding the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the vodka bottle sitting there. Without even thinking twice, he grabbed it, opening it and downing a good mouthful. It was strong, making him cough, but he didn't care. Wiping his mouth, he sank back onto the sofa, clutching the bottle in his hand. As soon as the alcohol took effect, he could make it back upstairs. So much for trying to beat the depression….
He lay back, waiting for the numbness to seep slowly over him.
Keith looked at the room around him as it wavered; everything was a lucid gray color and he clutched the vodka bottle to his body. Somehow, he'd gotten upstairs…he didn't quite remember how; he was just suddenly in his room. He felt a little nauseous and the pain was still there, pawing at him, unrelenting. Through his drunken haze, he saw the Valium bottle sitting on the desk, and he reached for it, unsuccessful at first, but finally getting it in his grasp. If the booze wouldn't knock out the pain, these certainly would. He fumbled with the child-proof cap for a bit; it must have been Chris's idea to put it on there. Finally working it off, he dumped the last two capsules into his hand, then put them in his mouth, washing them down with the vodka. God, the pain was unbearable! The worst he'd felt, yet. If this didn't work, he didn't know what else to do…jump out of the window, maybe? He turned to go back to the bed, but the desk chair was in his way and he tripped, falling forward and hitting his head on the corner. On the floor and slightly stunned, he reached up, feeling his head just above the right temple. When he brought his hand down, he saw the blood. He thought it was blood. Could blood be gray? He felt his heart begin to pound, quickly at first, then it slowed, and he tried to gather momentum to get up, but failed. The pain saw to that. Now every little movement he made was agonizing. Curling up on the floor, he whimpered at first, holding his stomach, then as the pain increased, he cried out.
And no one came.
"We need to get him out of his room," Danny was saying as everyone but Keith, as usual, gathered for lunch.
"We NEED to get him some therapy," Laurie muttered. She was still shocked at her brother's indifference to her. Only one year apart in their ages, Keith and Laurie had had their differences, but they had also been the closest of the Partridge children. What one couldn't think of, the other could. It was almost as if they were twins in some respect. Laurie had loved her big brother the instant she was aware of it; he was her soul-mate, often getting her into trouble as much as helping her get out of it. Not that she had never instigated any of their little devious deeds, but Keith was a natural born leader, and Laurie usually followed him blindly, even with the repercussions that went along with their discretions. He'd always been there for her, and she for him. They were two of a kind, and Laurie could only imagine the frustration they put their parents through. Even when they hit puberty and it was no longer "cool" to hang around each other, and the teasing began, Laurie loved her brother fiercely and knew that he loved her as well. It was the closest thing to marriage either one of them would experience. Through thick and thin, for better or worse, in sickness and in health… So, why, all of a sudden, was Keith pushing her away; now that he needed her the most? She was hurt, befuddled, and not a little angry.
"Laurie, that's not fair," Shirley scolded.
"Mother, anyone who holes himself up like that, not letting any outside forces in, is not rowing with both oars." She had made a pact with Chris and Danny not to mention the Valium, but if Keith didn't come out of his shell and soon, she wasn't averse to going back on her word.
"Actually, Danny's right, and in a small way, Laurie is too. If we could get him out and socializing, THAT would be therapy," Chris said.
"Okay, so, let's do it. Where could we take him?" Ken agreed.
"He likes the beach," Tracy suggested.
"I…think we need to start small. First we need to get him out of the room. Down into the living room or something. We could all leave the house so he won't have us fussing over him, and maybe he'll realize that there really is a world out here, going on in spite of his problems." Chris smiled.
"Well, he's sure adamant about being alone, that's for sure," Laurie frowned.
"He seemed to be okay at the dinner the other night," Tracy nodded. "Then I guess he got to feeling sick or something."
Chris smiled. "Exactly. Everything happened a little too fast for him that night, I think. That's why we need to ease him back into life, here. I mean, he's lost interest in just about everything; a classic sign of depression. He hasn't even mentioned his music, and we all know how much he loves to perform."
Laurie brightened. "Hey, how about if we arrange a concert for him? Just a local thing. That would surely pull him out of this."
Chris and Danny exchanged glances. "I think that would be a little much for now. Maybe later, after he's back into the swing of things…" Chris shook his head.
"Well, whatever we can do, let's do it. He can't go on like this, and neither can we," Shirley said, sipping her coffee.
Everyone at the table agreed.
****
Shirley knocked on Keith's door. "Honey, it's Mom. I'm going to be doing some laundry and I want to change your bedding."
There was no answer, and Shirley frowned, trying the doorknob. Surprisingly, it turned and she opened the door slowly, wincing. Keith wasn't there, and she stepped into the room, looking around. The bed was rumpled and she shook her head, proceeding to strip it. As she did so, the bottle of Valium fell to the floor and she reached down, picking it up. Reading the label, her eyes widened. Valium! That was a strong painkiller; almost like morphine. Was her son in such pain that he needed this? And had he not told anyone? Her heart was in her throat as Keith came in, apparently startled at finding her there.
"Mom!" His eyes went to the bottle in her hand, and he swallowed.
"Keith, what…what is this?"
He wanted to lie to her, to tell her some outlandish thing that she would probably never believe, but the look in her eyes blew that idea all to hell. He shrugged. "It's just what it says it is." He moved over to the desk, leaning on it, only half-wishing she'd go away.
"Oh, honey, is the pain that bad?" She dropped the bedcovers, wanting so badly to just go to him and hold him, and knowing he would probably just push her away, as he'd done everyone else.
He took a deep breath. "Sometimes it is, yeah." He forced a smile. "But I'm pulling through, you know?"
The smile left as quickly as it had come, and Shirley moved toward him as she saw tears fill his eyes. Hesitantly, she put her hand on his shoulder, and he shook his head, the tears making shiny tracks on his face.
"Oh, Keith…" She murmured, throwing caution to the wind and putting her arms around him.
He sagged against her, beginning to sob, and she held him, rubbing his back and shedding a few tears herself.
****
At Danny's suggestion, Keith ventured out into the living room. No one was home; no one would bother him, he'd been promised, and particularly tired of looking at the same four walls every day, Keith had agreed to try and break the depression he was in. He'd felt so melancholy for so long, he'd forgotten that there was indeed, life beyond his room, and he came down the stairs, pausing to look at the painting that Laurie had given Shirley for her birthday; it hung on the wall opposite the banister. It was from a photograph of the six of them taken by one of the most famous rock photographers in the world: Henry Diltz. They were dressed in their green velvet costumes and all of them were smiling happily, as if they didn't have a care in the world. Keith and Laurie were leaning on one another, and he had his arm around Danny's shoulder. They stood behind Chris, Shirley and Tracy, who were seated on stools, and Keith smiled, noting that Chris had his baseball mitt on and was trying to hide it from view. He peered at each face in the painting, trying to read their thoughts. He remembered that photo being taken. They were just about to embark on their 1973 European tour, and their "Crossword Puzzle" album had just been released. Keith remembered grappling with the producer on a couple of the songs; they'd wanted them sung a different way than Keith had written them to be, and it was a battle between management and labor. In the end, Keith got his way, and the album became one of his favorites. He'd tooled around in the studio afterwards, just recording a couple of tunes he'd written on his own; his first attempt at soloing, if you will, but nothing came of it, not until way later on, when he really was a solo act.
A feeling of complete sadness came over him, now, and he moved away from the painting, going to the stereo that sat under the window sill. Of all the albums Mom and the kids collected over the years, she always displayed the Family ones on top, and Keith sifted through them, finally taking the "Crossword Puzzle" one out and putting the record onto the turntable. It sounded scratchy, but comfortable, and Keith smiled, thinking that he should somehow get their recordings onto compact discs if not just for posterity's sake.
The music began and he took a seat on the sofa, feeling just a little awkward at hearing his own voice, but letting the nostalgia sweep across him. He pictured them in the recording studio, going through several takes before they found one fit to press, and he smiled at the endurance of the smaller kids. Those recording sessions were tough on Shirley, Laurie and him, let alone Danny, Chris and Tracy, who gave up a lot of their childhood in order to make this dream of his come true. But the fact that they were just kids was everywhere, no matter what they were doing. Tracy's ever-present dolls, and Chris's beloved baseball glove; Danny's skateboard. Even Laurie had her scrapbooks and craft projects. Shirley was too busy mothering everyone to worry about aesthetics, and Keith was happy as long as he was surrounded by his music; the ability to play it, write it and sing was all he ever needed.
He must have fallen asleep, because he sat up to the sound of the needle going back and forth at the end of the record, and as he moved, pain wracked him. The Valium was upstairs, and he sat there, pressing his head hard into the back of the couch, wishing he had at least some alcohol to numb this pain…
Then his eyes caught the liquor cabinet. He knew that his mother always kept something in there, in case of guests or a dinner party, and he swallowed, pushing off of the sofa, however awkwardly. Sliding the door open, he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the vodka bottle sitting there. Without even thinking twice, he grabbed it, opening it and downing a good mouthful. It was strong, making him cough, but he didn't care. Wiping his mouth, he sank back onto the sofa, clutching the bottle in his hand. As soon as the alcohol took effect, he could make it back upstairs. So much for trying to beat the depression….
He lay back, waiting for the numbness to seep slowly over him.
Keith looked at the room around him as it wavered; everything was a lucid gray color and he clutched the vodka bottle to his body. Somehow, he'd gotten upstairs…he didn't quite remember how; he was just suddenly in his room. He felt a little nauseous and the pain was still there, pawing at him, unrelenting. Through his drunken haze, he saw the Valium bottle sitting on the desk, and he reached for it, unsuccessful at first, but finally getting it in his grasp. If the booze wouldn't knock out the pain, these certainly would. He fumbled with the child-proof cap for a bit; it must have been Chris's idea to put it on there. Finally working it off, he dumped the last two capsules into his hand, then put them in his mouth, washing them down with the vodka. God, the pain was unbearable! The worst he'd felt, yet. If this didn't work, he didn't know what else to do…jump out of the window, maybe? He turned to go back to the bed, but the desk chair was in his way and he tripped, falling forward and hitting his head on the corner. On the floor and slightly stunned, he reached up, feeling his head just above the right temple. When he brought his hand down, he saw the blood. He thought it was blood. Could blood be gray? He felt his heart begin to pound, quickly at first, then it slowed, and he tried to gather momentum to get up, but failed. The pain saw to that. Now every little movement he made was agonizing. Curling up on the floor, he whimpered at first, holding his stomach, then as the pain increased, he cried out.
And no one came.