Disclaimer: Richie's first song is Jo Dee Messina's 'Even God Must Get the
Blues' and the second is Shania Twain's 'Black Eyes, Blue Tears'. I don't
know who actually wrote these songs, but it wasn't me.
"Where is he?" Tessa mumbled looking out the window. The storm two weeks ago had been the first in a long string of winter storms. "Duncan, I'm worried. He's been doing this a lot. Something must be wrong."
"I know." He agreed putting his arms around her. "And I'm worried too."
"I wish he would just tell us. It's driving me crazy."
"If he won't tell us, I know one way we can find out." Duncan said letting go of her and making his way into Richie's room. He searched for a moment and found what he was looking for lying next to the guitar they had gotten Richie for Christmas. "He may be too macho for a diary, but this is the next best thing." He announced re-entering the living room. Together he and Tessa read the latest entry in Richie's song journal.
'Pick up any morning paper Turn on the six o'clock news The devil's been so busy lately That even God must get the blues
A young man lies there in the street His life gone like it was nothing to lose And for the shoes that were on his feet Yes even God must get the blues
When this rain falls down from heaven It must be the angels crying For all the sorrow in the world tonight
A young girl hides her face in shame So they can't see its been battered and bruised Like she's the one to blame Yes even God must get the blues
Pick up any evening paper Turn on the ten o'clock news The devil's been so busy lately That even God must get the blues'
"What does it mean?" Tessa asked.
"Look at the date," Duncan said pointing at the top left corner. "Who showed up the day before? What's the one thing different today then two weeks ago? Whatever's wrong with Richie. . . "
"Has something to do with Rylan." Tessa finished.
"What about Rylan?" Richie asked from the top of the stairs wet from his ride.
"We were just talking." Duncan shrugged.
"About Rylan?"
"She ended up working her way in."
"And I see I may have inadvertently started this conversation." Richie gestured to his notebook lying open on the coffee table.
"Inadvertently?" Duncan repeated with raised eyebrows.
"You could have just asked." Richie said calmly picking up his notebook and ignoring Duncan's surprise at his vocabulary. He turned and started toward his room. "Well?" He stopped in the hallway.
"Well what?" Tessa asked.
"Aren't you going to try to stop me? Ask a few questions, maybe?"
"You told us to stop asking questions. We have a deal, remember? If it's important you'll tell us." Duncan said.
"Oh, right." Richie turned and disappeared into his room. "That didn't seem to mean anything when you searched my room." He grumbled sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Damn it, Ry! Why do you have to be so stubborn?" He asked the empty room.
Half of him wanted to blurt it all out; to tell them everything; to send Duncan out to bring Rylan back. . . but the other half reminded him of what would happen if he did. He lightly traced the scar just below the waistline of his jeans. He compromised with himself and set a dead line, if he didn't hear about or from Rylan by six o'clock Sunday night he would tell.
. . . . .
Richie drummed his pen on his spiral.
'Black eyes I don't need them Blue tears give me freedom
Positively never going back I won't live where things are so out of whack No more rolling with the punches No more using or abusing
I'd rather die standing Then live on my knees Begging please no more
Black eyes I don't need them Blue tears give me freedom Black eyes all behind me Blue tears will never find me now'
He read to himself. It had taken him all of five minutes to write that much, but he had drained his creativity. Nothing was helping him finish the song, not even the rain.
'A five minute burst of lyrics, followed by a twenty minute staring contest with the clock. My Sunday night in a nut shell.' Richie thought. He looked back at the clock letting his eyes blur out of focus.
"Bet you five dollars that it will change to six o'clock within the next sixty seconds." Richie jumped and looked behind him at Duncan.
"Even I'm not dumb enough to take that bet." He replied turning back around to stare at the clock.
"You've been very thoughtful the past couple of weeks." Duncan said sitting on the coffee table in front of Richie.
"That came out of nowhere." He said closing his notebook.
"Just an observation."
"An observation being used to start a heart-warming gut-spilling conversation, perhaps?" Richie ventured.
"Perhaps." There was a long pause as the two exchanged stares.
"Is this where I'm supposed to say 'Gee, Mac, you're right. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Let me tell you about it.'?"
"Maybe if we lived in a badly written 50's sitcom. But seriously, is there anything you want to tell me? Anything you just want to get off your chest?" Richie started debating with himself again. He had reached his deadline, but couldn't bring himself to say anything. "Well?" Duncan prompted.
Richie's conscience lost to his fears and he smiled at Duncan. "I'm being thoughtful, hang on." He sat quietly gathering his thoughts and preparing to pretend to be his usual self. "Well, the weather has been driving me insane, I'm getting cabin fever, and I have the over-whelming urge to bake."
Duncan smiled, not fooled by Richie's act, but willing to play along. "Bake, huh? Do you even know how?"
"Yes." The boy replied seriously.
"Since when?"
"Since I was little. Back when my motto was 'I'll try anything once'. I tried and got hooked." He shrugged.
"How about a haircut? You ever tried that?" Duncan asked ruffling Richie's mop of curls. Richie pulled away with a grin.
"This from a guy in a ponytail." They both turned as Tessa's voice floated up the stairs.
"Look who I found." She said walking through the door.
"Thought I'd barge in." Rylan said with a smile.
"What happened to you?" Duncan laughed looking her up and down.
"I got caught in the storm and saw the cars, so I hoped I could chill here for a while."
"Why don't you chill in some dry clothes. You look like a drowned rat." Richie answered taking her by the hand and leading her to his room. "You didn't get caught in the storm." He said as calmly as he could after he closed the door.
"Why would I say that if I didn't?" She asked innocently.
"Ry, don't lie to me. It's been raining since three o'clock. It doesn't take three hours to get anywhere in this city." He rummaged through his drawers. "Are you okay?" He asked handing her his smallest clothes.
She stared him in the eye for a second before she answered. "I've been better." She said heading for the bathroom.
"No way, Ry. You're changing here. I want to see." Richie said grabbing her by the arm.
"Ow!" she yelped slapping his hand away.
"Let me see, now." He demanded. Begrudgingly and carefully she took off her jacket, then shirt. "Oh, Ry." Was all he could say. The bruises he had seen before where at the pale yellow phase of healing, but you could barely see them under the fresh ones that were still forming. She winced when he barely touched her small bicep. It was already a very painful dark purple. "What happened?"
"I might have slammed it in the door on my way out." She said softly. Richie walked behind her and looked at her back. The entire area between her shoulders was a soft gray, and the small of her back was striped with light purple.
"Rylan, this is bad."
"I'm clumsy." She said in a carefully rehearsed tone.
"I've known you for twelve years, not once have you run into a wall or door by yourself." Richie said. "Get dressed, we're telling Mac."
"Richie, no."
"Yes."
"You said that if I needed to get away I could come here. Is the offer still good or do I need to go somewhere else?"
Richie closed his eyes and sighed. "It's still good."
"Okay then." She finished changing. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Richie said.
"Hey, I thought Rylan might want to put her hair up." Tessa explained stepping in.
"Oh, yeah. That'd be great." Rylan said accepting the hair band Tessa offered. "Brush?"
"Bathroom." Richie directed.
"Oh, and you left this out." Tessa added handing Richie his spiral.
"Funny, I remember closing this." He said pointedly.
"I remember reading it." Tessa replied.
"Reading what?" Rylan asked emerging from the bathroom.
"His precious songs." Tessa said. "Duncan wanted to talk to you." She added. "He's downstairs in the office."
"Um, okay." Rylan said glancing at Richie, who shrugged.
"Down the stairs on the left." Tessa said shooing Rylan out the door. She turned back to Richie. "Do you care to explain?"
. . . . . .
Rylan knocked lightly on the door. "Come in." Duncan looked up as she entered. "Have a seat, I'll be done in a second. I got a little sidetracked." He turned back to the computer.
She sat down in a chair in front of the desk and looked around. She could see why Richie had staked his place out. If he had gotten away with one thing, he would have been set for at least a year.
"Sorry about that." Duncan said turning to face her.
"I don't know anything about a pig, and I was nowhere near the boy's bathroom at the time." Rylan blurted.
"Excuse me?" Duncan chuckled.
Slowly she smiled. "It was a joke." She explained. "I feel like I've been called to the principal's office."
"Oh." Duncan said nodding. "Was there really a pig in the bathroom?"
"No. It was a turkey, in the library." She answered. "But I still had nothing to do with it."
"Do I know who did?"
"Maybe." She grinned.
"Speaking of Richie." Duncan started. "He's been acting funny lately and I was wondering if you knew what was wrong."
"I take it 'funny' doesn't have anything to do with his sense of humor?" Duncan shook his head. She thought for a moment. "What has he been doing?"
"Disappearing for hours at a time with no explanation. He's really irritable and snappy. The smallest things set him off."
"If some memory he's not particularly found of gets drudged up, he can get like that." She said making up the excuse as she went along. "It should pass in a couple days."
"It's been going on for two weeks."
"Oh," Rylan's palms began to sweat. "Then I don't know what's going on. Do you want me to talk to him?"
"I figure he'll tell you before me." Duncan said getting up and gesturing her through the door in front of him. He noticed her flinch when he lightly guided her through by the small of her back. He cursed inwardly. He had hoped that 'divide and conquer' was going to work.
'Maybe Tessa had better luck with Richie.' He thought. 'I don't think Rylan would like the other approach very much.' Together he and Rylan entered the apartment. Richie was sitting in the couch and Tessa was standing in front of him. By the look on Tessa's face he could tell that she had gotten information out of Richie. . . and what they had assumed was true. She quickly rushed to Rylan's side.
"Are you okay?" She asked softly smoothing back a piece of hair that had strayed from Rylan's messy ponytail.
"Yeah." She answered. "Why wouldn't I. . .Okay, what's going on here? What'd I miss?" She asked looking between Duncan and Tessa. Her innocent expression vanished as she realized what Tessa had been referring to. She turned and glared directly at who she felt was the source of her problem. "Richie?"
"Where is he?" Tessa mumbled looking out the window. The storm two weeks ago had been the first in a long string of winter storms. "Duncan, I'm worried. He's been doing this a lot. Something must be wrong."
"I know." He agreed putting his arms around her. "And I'm worried too."
"I wish he would just tell us. It's driving me crazy."
"If he won't tell us, I know one way we can find out." Duncan said letting go of her and making his way into Richie's room. He searched for a moment and found what he was looking for lying next to the guitar they had gotten Richie for Christmas. "He may be too macho for a diary, but this is the next best thing." He announced re-entering the living room. Together he and Tessa read the latest entry in Richie's song journal.
'Pick up any morning paper Turn on the six o'clock news The devil's been so busy lately That even God must get the blues
A young man lies there in the street His life gone like it was nothing to lose And for the shoes that were on his feet Yes even God must get the blues
When this rain falls down from heaven It must be the angels crying For all the sorrow in the world tonight
A young girl hides her face in shame So they can't see its been battered and bruised Like she's the one to blame Yes even God must get the blues
Pick up any evening paper Turn on the ten o'clock news The devil's been so busy lately That even God must get the blues'
"What does it mean?" Tessa asked.
"Look at the date," Duncan said pointing at the top left corner. "Who showed up the day before? What's the one thing different today then two weeks ago? Whatever's wrong with Richie. . . "
"Has something to do with Rylan." Tessa finished.
"What about Rylan?" Richie asked from the top of the stairs wet from his ride.
"We were just talking." Duncan shrugged.
"About Rylan?"
"She ended up working her way in."
"And I see I may have inadvertently started this conversation." Richie gestured to his notebook lying open on the coffee table.
"Inadvertently?" Duncan repeated with raised eyebrows.
"You could have just asked." Richie said calmly picking up his notebook and ignoring Duncan's surprise at his vocabulary. He turned and started toward his room. "Well?" He stopped in the hallway.
"Well what?" Tessa asked.
"Aren't you going to try to stop me? Ask a few questions, maybe?"
"You told us to stop asking questions. We have a deal, remember? If it's important you'll tell us." Duncan said.
"Oh, right." Richie turned and disappeared into his room. "That didn't seem to mean anything when you searched my room." He grumbled sitting down on the edge of his bed. "Damn it, Ry! Why do you have to be so stubborn?" He asked the empty room.
Half of him wanted to blurt it all out; to tell them everything; to send Duncan out to bring Rylan back. . . but the other half reminded him of what would happen if he did. He lightly traced the scar just below the waistline of his jeans. He compromised with himself and set a dead line, if he didn't hear about or from Rylan by six o'clock Sunday night he would tell.
. . . . .
Richie drummed his pen on his spiral.
'Black eyes I don't need them Blue tears give me freedom
Positively never going back I won't live where things are so out of whack No more rolling with the punches No more using or abusing
I'd rather die standing Then live on my knees Begging please no more
Black eyes I don't need them Blue tears give me freedom Black eyes all behind me Blue tears will never find me now'
He read to himself. It had taken him all of five minutes to write that much, but he had drained his creativity. Nothing was helping him finish the song, not even the rain.
'A five minute burst of lyrics, followed by a twenty minute staring contest with the clock. My Sunday night in a nut shell.' Richie thought. He looked back at the clock letting his eyes blur out of focus.
"Bet you five dollars that it will change to six o'clock within the next sixty seconds." Richie jumped and looked behind him at Duncan.
"Even I'm not dumb enough to take that bet." He replied turning back around to stare at the clock.
"You've been very thoughtful the past couple of weeks." Duncan said sitting on the coffee table in front of Richie.
"That came out of nowhere." He said closing his notebook.
"Just an observation."
"An observation being used to start a heart-warming gut-spilling conversation, perhaps?" Richie ventured.
"Perhaps." There was a long pause as the two exchanged stares.
"Is this where I'm supposed to say 'Gee, Mac, you're right. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Let me tell you about it.'?"
"Maybe if we lived in a badly written 50's sitcom. But seriously, is there anything you want to tell me? Anything you just want to get off your chest?" Richie started debating with himself again. He had reached his deadline, but couldn't bring himself to say anything. "Well?" Duncan prompted.
Richie's conscience lost to his fears and he smiled at Duncan. "I'm being thoughtful, hang on." He sat quietly gathering his thoughts and preparing to pretend to be his usual self. "Well, the weather has been driving me insane, I'm getting cabin fever, and I have the over-whelming urge to bake."
Duncan smiled, not fooled by Richie's act, but willing to play along. "Bake, huh? Do you even know how?"
"Yes." The boy replied seriously.
"Since when?"
"Since I was little. Back when my motto was 'I'll try anything once'. I tried and got hooked." He shrugged.
"How about a haircut? You ever tried that?" Duncan asked ruffling Richie's mop of curls. Richie pulled away with a grin.
"This from a guy in a ponytail." They both turned as Tessa's voice floated up the stairs.
"Look who I found." She said walking through the door.
"Thought I'd barge in." Rylan said with a smile.
"What happened to you?" Duncan laughed looking her up and down.
"I got caught in the storm and saw the cars, so I hoped I could chill here for a while."
"Why don't you chill in some dry clothes. You look like a drowned rat." Richie answered taking her by the hand and leading her to his room. "You didn't get caught in the storm." He said as calmly as he could after he closed the door.
"Why would I say that if I didn't?" She asked innocently.
"Ry, don't lie to me. It's been raining since three o'clock. It doesn't take three hours to get anywhere in this city." He rummaged through his drawers. "Are you okay?" He asked handing her his smallest clothes.
She stared him in the eye for a second before she answered. "I've been better." She said heading for the bathroom.
"No way, Ry. You're changing here. I want to see." Richie said grabbing her by the arm.
"Ow!" she yelped slapping his hand away.
"Let me see, now." He demanded. Begrudgingly and carefully she took off her jacket, then shirt. "Oh, Ry." Was all he could say. The bruises he had seen before where at the pale yellow phase of healing, but you could barely see them under the fresh ones that were still forming. She winced when he barely touched her small bicep. It was already a very painful dark purple. "What happened?"
"I might have slammed it in the door on my way out." She said softly. Richie walked behind her and looked at her back. The entire area between her shoulders was a soft gray, and the small of her back was striped with light purple.
"Rylan, this is bad."
"I'm clumsy." She said in a carefully rehearsed tone.
"I've known you for twelve years, not once have you run into a wall or door by yourself." Richie said. "Get dressed, we're telling Mac."
"Richie, no."
"Yes."
"You said that if I needed to get away I could come here. Is the offer still good or do I need to go somewhere else?"
Richie closed his eyes and sighed. "It's still good."
"Okay then." She finished changing. There was a knock at the door.
"Come in." Richie said.
"Hey, I thought Rylan might want to put her hair up." Tessa explained stepping in.
"Oh, yeah. That'd be great." Rylan said accepting the hair band Tessa offered. "Brush?"
"Bathroom." Richie directed.
"Oh, and you left this out." Tessa added handing Richie his spiral.
"Funny, I remember closing this." He said pointedly.
"I remember reading it." Tessa replied.
"Reading what?" Rylan asked emerging from the bathroom.
"His precious songs." Tessa said. "Duncan wanted to talk to you." She added. "He's downstairs in the office."
"Um, okay." Rylan said glancing at Richie, who shrugged.
"Down the stairs on the left." Tessa said shooing Rylan out the door. She turned back to Richie. "Do you care to explain?"
. . . . . .
Rylan knocked lightly on the door. "Come in." Duncan looked up as she entered. "Have a seat, I'll be done in a second. I got a little sidetracked." He turned back to the computer.
She sat down in a chair in front of the desk and looked around. She could see why Richie had staked his place out. If he had gotten away with one thing, he would have been set for at least a year.
"Sorry about that." Duncan said turning to face her.
"I don't know anything about a pig, and I was nowhere near the boy's bathroom at the time." Rylan blurted.
"Excuse me?" Duncan chuckled.
Slowly she smiled. "It was a joke." She explained. "I feel like I've been called to the principal's office."
"Oh." Duncan said nodding. "Was there really a pig in the bathroom?"
"No. It was a turkey, in the library." She answered. "But I still had nothing to do with it."
"Do I know who did?"
"Maybe." She grinned.
"Speaking of Richie." Duncan started. "He's been acting funny lately and I was wondering if you knew what was wrong."
"I take it 'funny' doesn't have anything to do with his sense of humor?" Duncan shook his head. She thought for a moment. "What has he been doing?"
"Disappearing for hours at a time with no explanation. He's really irritable and snappy. The smallest things set him off."
"If some memory he's not particularly found of gets drudged up, he can get like that." She said making up the excuse as she went along. "It should pass in a couple days."
"It's been going on for two weeks."
"Oh," Rylan's palms began to sweat. "Then I don't know what's going on. Do you want me to talk to him?"
"I figure he'll tell you before me." Duncan said getting up and gesturing her through the door in front of him. He noticed her flinch when he lightly guided her through by the small of her back. He cursed inwardly. He had hoped that 'divide and conquer' was going to work.
'Maybe Tessa had better luck with Richie.' He thought. 'I don't think Rylan would like the other approach very much.' Together he and Rylan entered the apartment. Richie was sitting in the couch and Tessa was standing in front of him. By the look on Tessa's face he could tell that she had gotten information out of Richie. . . and what they had assumed was true. She quickly rushed to Rylan's side.
"Are you okay?" She asked softly smoothing back a piece of hair that had strayed from Rylan's messy ponytail.
"Yeah." She answered. "Why wouldn't I. . .Okay, what's going on here? What'd I miss?" She asked looking between Duncan and Tessa. Her innocent expression vanished as she realized what Tessa had been referring to. She turned and glared directly at who she felt was the source of her problem. "Richie?"