Chapter 2: Epidemic
During the night, Alan woke up and could not get back to sleep. He had spells of insomnia off and on so he lay supine, listening to Melody's breathing next to him. Though she had acted no different from her usual self, he knew the incidents-the break in and the fire at Buster's school upset her. They all were fond of Buster, though Melody probably felt a little differently, he thought. Alan often thought that Melody was like a surrogate mother to Buster. The trumpet player remembered when Melody herself was being hunted by a psychopath who had murdered her aunt, and for a time after that excitement had calmed down, Melody had been reluctant to go outside on her own.
Melody had been recovering from a gunshot wound and 2 weeks after she'd been hurt, they were home and Alan was looking after her. She would jump a mile if anyone entered the apartment, if Alan left, she had anxiety attacks and severe insomnia for weeks afterwards. Since she had talked Alan into psychiatric help after his father died, he had done the same to her with a successful result. He'd given her space enough to cope with the damage she had suffered from the incident, and quite frankly, Alan was starting to get irritated from the stress.
During one of Melody's insomnia attacks, he'd awakened to find her sitting at the window and gazing out over the street. It was then he'd pitched the idea of psychiatric help to her, knowing she would not resist. Melody had psychiatric appointments before and she relented easily. Alan had gone with her on the first appointment to support her, and they both left feeling cautiously optimistic about the future.
Thinking about it retrospect, Alan grinned wryly. Melody had to be strong for him when his father had died, taking care of him like he was an invalid, encouraging him to just vent his grief and frustration. It had been his turn to be strong for Melody after the incident with the murderer. Neither one of them were resentful about what had happened to them and neither one of them had ever felt sorry for themselves because it happened at all. Each had surprised the other with their inner strength and resilience in overcoming obstacles.
They were stronger as a couple now than ever before. Alan turned to face Melody and watched her sleep for a long moment. She'd given him a few scary moments, like when her asthma had flared up a few times, but she'd never had a full on attack that he could remember. The engineer managed her symptoms like a pro and she rarely let it get out of control.
The insomnia went on for a little while longer and though Alan did not want to use medication for it, Melody had told him that just relaxing and thinking of funny memories might help, so he decided to try it.
Moments later he was indeed falling asleep.
Early on the next morning, Elwood pulled up in the old Bluesmobile, shouting a greeting of good morning. Matt followed him in a 4 year old Mercedes ML 350, which was Mercedes's answer to an SUV. There was plenty of head room and cargo space, even a 3rd row seat in the back. Alan and Melody opted for the Mercedes or Merc this time, having had enough of the Ford after Elwood's stunts 5 years ago.
The usual gossip proceeded as they went on down the road and gradually petered out. Melody put on her MP3 player, putting on her shades and mentally rocking out to the tunes.
When they stopped for lunch, Melody's cell phone rang and she was forced to stay outside in the cold and answer it as it was from her work. Buster wasn't hungry yet so he sat down on the trunk of the Ford and watched Melody pace back and forth, barking at people through the phone. He admired her for sticking to her guns and speaking her mind.
Finally she shut her phone off with a sigh and joined Buster with a weary smile. "Aren't ya hungry, kid?"
"Not yet. I got stuff in the car in case I do. You?"
"Same. Alan gets a bit paranoid at times, sometimes asking me if I'm starving myself. The answer is always no, but he only asks that because he's concerned about me."
"I bet. Is he going to marry you sometime?"
"Meh. I don't care about that side of things, Buster. We're happy, so why change it now?"
"You don't want to make it official or anything?"
"Nah."
"Well..."
"Got a girlfriend yet, Buster?"
"I had one a few months ago but she broke up with me."
"Well that bites, don't you think?"
"I hope I have a relationship like you and Alan, Mel. If you don't marry him, at least he's there for you."
"That's right. I have a lot to be thankful for."
"I heard you got attacked while touring with the band once. Elwood wouldn't go into it and Mack knew nothing about it. Will you tell me?"
"Well, I suppose," she outlined the story, starting with her aunt's murder, her hookup with the band through their agent, the first gigs, the band's discovery of her voice, Alan's growing attraction towards her. "we'd just gotten comfortable with each other and were friendly when the murderer cut the brake lines in my Mustang that I owned back then. I kept myself out of a major accident, but I did manage to bang myself up pretty good. Alan helped me out, getting the number of the repair shop. He checked on me that night and found that I could not sleep after the accident. Alan comforted me, and this was the guy I had thought was cold and aloof, and when I asked him to stay with me that night, he did."
"Stay?"
"Head out of the gutter, kid. It was all platonic. I felt like I needed to be guarded that night and he did it." she smiled at the memory. "We got friendlier after that and he rode with me once my car was fixed. It was the next night I think that I was shot in the shoulder."
"What?!"
"The murderer who axed my aunt shot me in a drive by shooting. It was in my shoulder and Murph took me to the hospital where I needed surgery to clean it up. Alan, Jake and Elwood came to get me the next morning and we continued on as usual. Jake declared I had to have a bodyguard all the time and wouldn't hear a word against it. The night of the gig, the murderer came and attacked me onstage. He got me by my bad shoulder and gave it a vicious twist, I saw red and blacked out."
"Holy shit."
"You're telling me, Buster. Jake tackled the guy, the cops came and hauled him off, Elwood checked my injury to make sure that my stitches weren't torn and they weren't. Jake roused me and I felt well enough. When Alan and I came home, I couldn't leave the apartment for 2 weeks because I was convinced someone was out there to get me. Alan handled it pretty well for the first couple of weeks, just comforting me when I needed it, understanding that I needed time to process everything. It had worn him down eventually and he told me that I needed to get help."
"What kind of help?" it had begun to snow.
"He was very calm and rational about it, telling me that I needed the kind of help that he couldn't give me. Alan took me to a shrink I had seen before and my mental state started improving. I really needed that help, I got it, and I'm me again. I'm quite happy I don't have anxiety or panic attacks anymore, and I can travel around without worrying someone is going to get me."
"I'm glad of that," Buster chucked a rock across the parking lot idly as the bandmembers came out of the restaurant. "what kind of scar did it leave?"
Melody laughed. "I got a nice 2 inch one." she showed him.
"What are you two doing out here in the cold?" Elwood called as he unlocked the car. "Come on, let's get to the hotel."
"How far is it now, Elwood?"
"We spend the afternoon driving Mack, we should get there by 5." he answered as he slid into the car and started it up.
Once more Melody put on her MP3 player while Alan chatted with Lou about insomnia. Both of them were getting older and found they had bouts of sleeplessness though infrequent. Lou recommended various strategies to cope with it, but Alan thought that Melody's suggestion was the best one and he'd stick with it.
At the Doubleday hotel, the band brought in their bags, checked in and got themselves arranged in their rooms. Melody and Elwood were chattering away out in the foyer when Buster came in. "El, it's Mack, he's sick."
"How bad?"
"Bad." Mack was quite ill and gray in the face. Melody directed him to hit the sack immediately which he did without comment. A few minutes later, the guitar players plus Willie had it, then Elwood and Murph became ill. The horn section fell sick as well, leaving Melody and Buster unaffected.
"You know what this means, Buster?"
"No, not exactly."
"Everyone here's got food poisoning. We're unaffected because we were too busy talking," she nudged him. "They'll be fine by tomorrow, they just need to rest until then."
"Right." Buster watched Melody put a cold compress on Alan's forehead. He was the most severely stricken and having a room to themselves, Melody had no complaints. He was asleep but uneasily as a low grade fever spiked up.
"It might look bad, but it isn't," she told him. "his body is telling him to get rid of the mess and that puts his temperature up some. It'll go down soon."
"Oh. I remember I had strep throat last year."
"That's right, you did," Melody stood up and sat down on a chair near Buster. "I wanted to come and see you but I didn't want to get sick myself."
"I understand that. I didn't want anyone visiting me in case they got sick," Buster sounded mature beyond his years suddenly. "I got pretty sick and Elwood nursed me through it. Mack and he traded shifts to look after me."
"Doesn't getting sick blow?" Melody commented. "A few years ago I had a bad cold and I swear that I almost hacked out my lungs!"
"You know what? I'm starved now. Let's go grab something."
"All right, Bus. These guys will be OK on their own for an hour or two."
When the alotted hour passed, Melody and Buster entered the hotel room to see Alan stirring feebly. Melody hurried over to him, shoving her purse on the bureau and taking his hands in hers. Buster stood by and watched as she sat on the edge of the bed and calmed Alan down a bit. He muttered her name a few times, submitting easily to her minstrations.
"Come on Alan, lie down now." she coaxed, applying a little pressure to his shoulders. The trumpet player seemed to wake up a bit then and his eyes fastened onto hers.
"I feel like shit." he grumbled, lying back down as Melody checked his fever.
"Everyone else does too, except me and Buster." she chuckled, putting the cold compress back on his forehead. "You'll be all right by tomorrow."
"Why can't it be tomorrow today?" his eyes closed.
"Don't get me started. I'll be right here with you, Alan. Buster's here too."
"Is he sick?"
"No. I just said he wasn't. Anyway, we'll be here if you need us, all right?"
"You're too good to me." he said drowsily and Melody shot Buster an amused smile.
"You must be getting delirious then." the engineer removed her hand and sat on the other bed with Buster, playing card games. Melody taught him Rummy and he won a few hands, but Melody still won the game.
"Let's see what's on TV." Buster picked up the remote and started flicking through the channels, searching for something of interest while Melody didn't care in the least what he picked out. Soon they both were engrossed in BBC America's Doctor Who TV series and Melody had to admit that the current doctor, David Tennant, was very cute looking and the fact he was Scottish with an accent, made him even more appealing in her eyes. She loved men with accents. Alan had once joked about that, saying that he was from Brooklyn and he had the local accent, telling Melody that her northeastern accent was funny to him.
"Hey Mel?" Alan stirred awake with Buster's question but kept his eyes closed.
"Yeah, kid?"
"Did you and Alan ever think about having kids?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"We're not the parental type of people, Buster. Besides, we're far too career oriented then and now."
"I don't buy that," the kid was more perceptive than Alan had thought at first. Truthfully, Alan and Melody had talked about many years ago, and with their lifestyles ones of constant traveling, both had mutually agreed that it would not be fair to subject children to it. The couple had great parents to pattern themselves on, but neither one wanted to be a parent.
"Come on, Mel..." Buster wheedled. "there's more to it than that, isn't there?"
Melody told Buster what Alan had just been thinking of. Buster argued, saying they'd have been great at raising a family, but a long silence on Melody's part just made him more curious.
"Buster, I should clarify something with you. Even Alan doesn't know this." Alan nearly opened up his eyes. He thought he knew everything about her, what was there to hide?
"Shoot."
"Right. Alan and I agreed on not having kids, right?"
"Right."
"Because we travel a lot and feel our lives are fulfilled enough as it is, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's not because I didn't want kids, it's because I can't have them."
"Really?" Buster sounded shocked and Alan definitely was.
"Really, kid."
"How's that even possible?"
"When I was a teen, not much older than you, I became extremely sick and the only drug that worked for me was a very powerful one called methadone. Everyone reacts differently to drugs, and shall we just say that was so powerful it destroyed my... downstairs, leaving me permanently infertile."
"Wow."
"You're telling me. I'm really glad I met Alan, even if he doesn't know about that part of me, so to speak. He treats me like a lady and doesn't act like I'm damaged in some way."
"He wouldn't leave you because you can't have kids, even if he knew back then," Buster protested. "he doesn't have it in him to do that."
For a moment, Alan wasn't sure if he was complimented or insulted. Melody chuckled and paused as Buster got up on the bed beside her.
"Don't you think it's moot point now?"
"You mean leave the past in the past?"
"Yes I do."
"OK, deal."
"Why don't you go check on Elwood and Mack? It's been almost 4 hours, they might be feeling better by now."
"Will do. Good night."
"Night, kiddo." the door opened and closed. Alan opened up his eyes and tried to look groggy like he'd just woken up. Melody was lying on the opposite bed, her shoes off, sprawled out facing him on her left side with her eyes closed. He got up and prepared himself for sleep, glad not to be wracked with cramps again. The trumpet player was no stranger to pain, as when he played, sometimes he got overzealous and a few times he'd pulled a muscle in his shoulder. When he was first learning, he had to build up his shoulder and pectoral muscle strength so he would be comfortable holding up the instrument for an extended period of time. Living in New York for a time, he'd been in a few car accidents, one was bad enough that he suffered a dislocated left shoulder and it had to be immobilized for a month. He was covered on long term disability leave, though at the time he felt he was going crazy from the inability to do what he loved.
"Mel?" the musician changed out of his streetclothes and touched her on her left cheek. The engineer did not stir and Alan didn't want to wake her up, so he got into the bed with her. A few moments after he turned out the light, he heard her stir a little bit.
"What the? Oh." she felt his hand and relaxed. "You've been a bit ill, so don't you dare try to kiss me unless you used mouthwash and brushed your teeth!"
Alan snorted as he laughed, pulling her to him. "Why don't you find out?" he gave her a big loud smack.
"Fine, I guess I can cope. At least your fever's gone."
"I'm feelin' more than all right, actually..." he slid his hand up her thigh, making her jump a little bit.
The next night, they assembled for a gig at a winter carnival. All of the band wasn't excited about performing in the chilly winter night on an outdoor stage, but they put up with it. The gig was high paying and that was all they were concerned about. The band had attired themselves in layers, ending in fleece jackets with gloves. The guitar players and Murph had cutoff gloves so that their fingers were free to play their instruments. Willie shivered backstage, clutching a mug of coffee he'd swiped from the catering table. He didn't care much for the taste, but it was warm.
"I hate the cold. I wish we were in Vegas now!" Buster huffed as he tucked his hands into his armpits. Matt cuffed him on the shoulder as he plugged in his amp.
"Come on, kid! It builds character." he and the others had recovered fine after their bout of food poisoning last night. Willie picked up his drumsticks and sat down as Steve and Duck started jamming riffs. Elwood walked onto the stage with his harmonica in his overcoat pocket, followed by Mack. They took their places and Melody stood beside Lou, ready to start. She wore a fleece lined heavy coat, leather gloves, and she had added a black pageboy hat with a bow on the left side. Her silver hoop earrings glinted in the light and she rubbed her hands together, shivering. There were a few small space heaters on the floor, but they didn't really do anything to help.
Halfway through their performance, it started to snow. The crowd cheered for it, but the band was not happy. It started accumulating on their shoulders and instruments, and the horn section had to make sure that their lips wouldn't freeze. When the gig was finally over, they were free to mingle with the crowd, but none of them thought to loiter around and take in the sights. Buster was interested in the ice sculpting, but he was more than happy to get in the car and get back to the hotel.