Companion Piece: Third Day Story
On The Road With Danny Concannon:'04-'05---Powel, Wyoming.
"Danny and The Deep Blue"
-----
"I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain away
I keep your photograph and I know it serves me well
I wanna hold you high and steal your pain
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
----SEETHER "Broken"
"He's gotta go home but he's got no home."
----Danny and The Deep Blue Sea
By John Patrick Shanley
The wind blew past causing the papers Danny was writing on to fly forward onto his hand. He pushed the pages down in the yellow legal pad and looked toward the direction the gust of wind came from. This caused his hair to fly back over his face. Danny ignored it and went back to his scribbling. He hadn't written in a legal pad for a long time, but his writing wasn't work-related this time, so his small notebook computer had lost its use. Again, like always, he was in the middle of nowhere, Danny sat on his large army -size duffle bag, a gift from a friend, and waited for the bus to reload after its small break. While others walked around, used the phone, and took a general walkabout, Danny did the only thing Danny knew how to do: Write. Plus his small radio was broken and he couldn't finish listening to the ballgame; or the news. Which he didn't mind. He needed to be away physically and mentally.
Something he had started back in the cabin, and Danny felt compelled to finish it. It had started out, at first, as a lark, something to take the time away in-between the silence, the thinking, and the booze, but soon Danny found himself writing something he hadn't written since before driving age: fiction. Maybe it was the characters he created or the storylines he found himself in, but Danny found the new world he created a much-needed distraction from his reality. Perhaps this would be what he needed to help him cope. His own secret, his own hobby to keep himself occupied, for too much of one thing can often be too much; good or bad.
Danny heard a commotion and looked up to find people making their way toward the bus: it was time. The dust was beginning to settle and the sun was just starting to set. Danny sat up and tossed his duffle bag over one shoulder, his backpack over the other, his papers under his right arm, and got on the bus to his next destination. Sure, Danny could have taken a plane, or rented a car, but there was something about being driven somewhere. Somewhere out of the way, taking the long way home, or the roundabout passage, those were all ways one could be alone with one's thoughts and the calm. Danny knew he had somewhere to go; he just wasn't quite ready to get there yet. Danny found his way to the back so he could keep to himself, and started writing again. The last of the passengers entered, the door was closed, and the bus drove off down the highway.
--
CJ stepped out of Leo's hospital room for a moment. She was overcome with seeing Leo like that. She lifted her eyes and set her back against the wall next to the door. Her first sight was of the Secret Service agent standing in front of her. She gave him uplifted eyes, trying not to look like she was rattled, as she continued around the corner. Where was Danny she thought? Why hadn't she heard from him in weeks? This brought her to wonder why Leo had made her think of Danny at all. This made her nervous. CJ took her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed. The number was out of service. She sent her finger into her address book for another number and brought the phone her to ear. She sent her free arm around her bent elbow and leaned back against the wall. Half way through, she had the urge to hang up.
----
In Danny's dark office, his private line rang. It rang several times before the machine, an old one that had been installed and in Danny's possession since the early nineties, clicked out and the message seeped into the air.
"This is Danny Concannon at the Washington Post. I will be out of the office until well---who knows right now. But please leave a message and I will try and give you a call from the road. If this is business-related you can call my assistant Maisy on the main line. Thank You."
After listening to his voice CJ hung up the phone.
Beep!
"You've gone away, you don't feel me, anymore"
----SEETHER "Broken"