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Break Away

Slowing Down to Catch Up

By L. Lane BaileyPublished 3 years ago Updated 2 years ago 10 min read
6
Break Away
Photo by Pien Muller on Unsplash

The spotlights dimmed and the ring of the amplified instruments died. Lightning jumped off the side of the small stage and walked back to the converted bathroom that served as their dressing room for the night’s performance. He was bathed in sweat, his clothes stuck to him as if he’d been in a rainstorm.

Walking past their crew… an assemblage of friends that got to ride the coach bus with the band in exchange for setting up and breaking down their instruments and amps… he patted a couple of backs and high-fived a few other people. They were celebrating a successful show.

When the door closed behind him, he knew he could look forward to at least half a minute of silence. The other guys needed to pack their instruments, but as vocalist, his was packed all the time. Besides, he needed to be invisible for a minute. He was cracking. He thought he saw a ghost in the crowd. Not a ghost, but someone he hadn’t seen in years.

“Lightning, they want you at the merch booth, buddy,” one of the crew called in.

“Thanks, Harley. I’ll be right out.”

Elijah “Lightning” Hammond took another deep breath and walked out of the room.

“Lightning, I love you,” a blonde girl yelled across the barrier. He waved back, smiling. She looked a couple years younger than his twenty-four years.

“Can I get your autograph?” a kid asked him, holding out a small book.

“Sure, buddy.” He took the book, scrawled his autograph, then put one of the band’s stickers on the page before getting all the other guys to sign.

“The show tonight was awesome. Backflips across the stage… that was so cool.”

“Thanks. Tell your friends… and follow us on all the socials. We will be playing here more and more, you know…”

He spent a little longer working the merchandise booth. Local festival-type shows didn’t pay much, so the sales at the merch booth and exposure to new fans made it worthwhile. As much as it drained him, he loved being in front of a crowd. He fed off their energy while onstage. He paid for it after, though. Like now.

He stripped off his drenched shirt and pulled a vintage t-shirt from his gym bag. Then he peeled off his skintight jeans and pulled on a pair of loose cargo pants. He slid on his shoes and collapsed into the camp chair and took a deep breath.

With his long hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed completely differently than when he’d been on stage, he walked back out of the dressing room. He could have walked out in front of the stage without being recognized. Of course, the band wasn’t really famous. Not yet. There weren’t a dozen people out there that even knew who they were. Aside from the fans that rode their bus.

“Hi, Lightning,” one girl said, separating from the crowd. “Good show. Want to go grab some dinner? We can get back in time to see the last part of the headliner.”

“Sure, Lizzie, but call me Elijah, ok? I’m off duty.”

“I know… but I like calling you Lightning,” she smiled. “The little Italian place across the way is pretty good.”

She took his arm and he followed along in her wake. Groupie wasn’t a descriptor he would use for Lizzie. More of a special fan. She’d also known him before the band started getting gigs. Of course, back then, she barely acknowledged him. Now she was at most of the shows, but she wasn’t like the other girls that were always hanging out near the dressing room. He’d let his guard down around her a few times.

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” Elijah said over the tiramisu. “I mean, I love doing the shows, but it’s like I never get to decompress. You know?”

“You want to let your hair down, Lightning?” she laughed as she reached across the table to stroke his long hair.

“Something like that,” he replied. He knew he needed to get away… maybe home. He hadn’t been there since his sister’s wedding.

“What’s her name?”

“Huh?”

“There’s just a look in your eye like you are remembering someone.”

By Saptarshi Ghosh on Unsplash

The VW 21-window Microbus pulled up in front of his old house. He sat there looking at the home in which he’d grown up. Off to his left he saw the event space, about where the old barn used to be. Since it was winter, the bookings were fewer, but it still had the twinkling lights, shining through the gently falling snow.

He missed the old barn. The event space was beautiful, his sister’s design blended the old and new seamlessly. But the old barn had so many memories. And it was the place he fell in love with music.

Invariably, his mind drifter to Rachael’s best friend, Vicki. He’d seen her briefly when Rachael and Phillip got married, but he hadn’t been able to talk with her… not for long, anyway. Her fiancé, Todd, had been glued to her side every time he got near.

As Rachael stood on the front porch of the house looking at him, he thought back to the last summer he’d spent with Vicki. By that time, Phillip was coming over to see Rachael, and Vicki was coming over to see him. The four of them hung out together sometimes, but more often than not, he and Vicki went off to be alone.

They had been inseparable that summer. He still wrote songs about her, about that time of his life. There was a simplicity to the relationship with her. Everything had been simpler.

He stepped out of the old van and walked around to grab his bag. He waved at his sister as Phillip walked out to help him take in his gear. They had been so excited to have him come and stay in the old house they’d taken over from her parents after the older Hammonds moved into her mother’s family’s restored old house.

“About time you came back, Elijah,” Rachael said, pulling her brother in for a hug. “We’re so glad you called.”

“It won’t be any trouble having me for a couple of weeks?”

“Are you kidding? We even updated your old room.”

By Stephen Ellis on Unsplash

Elijah was sitting on the swing overlooking the frozen pond. He pushed the swing back and forth slowly. After the initial shock of slowing down to the pace of the surrounding hills, he realized how much he missed the ease of the old farm. He didn’t hear the figure slip up behind him and cover his eyes with her mittened hands.

“Vicki Wilson?” he said, not realizing how much hope he had in his voice. He hadn’t even waited for her to say anything first.

“That’s pretty good, Elijah Hammond,” she said, walking around in front of him. “Rachael told me you were coming for a visit. I wondered if you’d remember me.”

He patted the seat of the swing next to him and smiled back at her. “I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” She slipped into the seat, and they started slowly rocking the swing back and forth again. “Where’s Todd?”

“I don’t know. Haven’t seen him in a couple of years.”

“Wow… I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s ok. I broke it off. He got mad because I spent too much time on my poetry,” she grinned, her eyes dancing.

“Damn, seriously?”

“You and Lizzie still together?”

This time, when he looked up there was a different look in her eyes. Gone was the gleam, replaced by a serious expression.

“We’ve never really been ‘together’, Vicki. Seriously. I really don’t think she even knows who I really am. How did you even know about her?”

“I might have seen you perform once or twice. She’s really pretty, and you seem comfortable with her.”

Elijah laughed a little, “Not really. I’m just less uncomfortable with her than most of the girls that orbit around the band. I just…”

Vicki put her hand on his and looked into his eyes, “You don’t have to say anything, Elijah.” Vicki slipped off her mitten and then pulled off his glove. She took his hand in hers. A comfortable silence settled over them as the swing rocked gently.

By Dolo Iglesias on Unsplash

The snow was falling furiously as Rachael unlocked the door to the event space. She flipped on the mood lights, the ones they used during the dances, as Elijah walked up to the stage. He sat down at the piano… his old piano, the one that had been in the family for a hundred years. He hadn’t been able to take it with him when he went to college. He felt it belonged at the house.

His band played heavy metal, and there were no keyboards. He was purely a vocalist on stage. The guys in the band knew that he used a keyboard to write, but even their most dedicated fans didn’t know he played the piano.

Elijah started absently tapping the keys. There was a melody that had been haunting the recesses of his brain for a few months, but every time he sat down to try to capture it, it fell silent. This time, the bright melody flowed from his fingertips. He played it through, then started it again, adding to it. He pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the music stand next to himself and hit ‘record.’

As Rachael busied herself getting ready for a party they had coming in that evening, Elijah played what was in his heart. He didn’t notice Vicki slipping into the room behind him. She walked over and stood at his shoulder as he lost himself in the song. When he finished, he stopped the recording. He played it, still unaware of his audience.

He tapped a few keys again, and the background for the melody came into focus. For the first time in months, he was completely swallowed up in his creation. He varied it a few ways, then reached back over to his phone and hit ‘record’ again.

As he played the piano, completely unconnected to the world around him, Vicki’s voice added words to the song from Elijah’s heart. He didn’t stop playing, even though her voice shocked him. He’d forgotten how beautifully she sang. He didn’t know where the words came from, he hadn’t even begun to conceive lyrics for his haunting tune, but as her voice rose and fell along with his hands roving on the keys of the old piano, he couldn’t imagine a more fitting accompaniment.

The song ended, her hands resting on his shoulders, and both reverted to silence. Vicki leaned down and stopped the recording, then slipped around him and sat next to him on the bench, her arm still casually draped around his shoulder. She leaned her head against him.

“That was really nice,” she said softly.

“No, that was amazing,” he replied. “Where did those lyrics come from?”

“From a poem I wrote when I was in high school. I’ve rewritten it a hundred times, but I always go back to the original.”

“It’s beautiful, Vicki. Some guy was incredibly lucky that you felt that way about him. And an idiot for breaking your heart.”

“That ‘some guy’ is you, Elijah,” she laughed. “I wrote it right after you left. I was afraid you’d never come back, but I also knew that you had to go. More than anything, I wanted to follow you, but I couldn’t.”

He leaned in and kissed her, his lips tenderly grazing hers before he looked into her eyes, then pulled her closer. A soft moan escaped her as she kissed the man she’d first loved, for the first time in five years.

As they kissed, Elijah always knew what had been missing for the last several years had been Vicki.

“About time,” Rachael laughed, walking through the room.

If you'd like to read another side to this story, Vicki's story can be found here. The Teacher.

Love
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About the Creator

L. Lane Bailey

Dad, Husband, Author, Jeeper, former Pro Photographer. I have 15 novels on Amazon. I write action/thrillers with a side of romance. You can also find me on my blog. I offer a free ebook to blog subscribers.

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