Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel) (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-one

The Phone Call

I’m sitting on my couch two weeks later, toying with my new
cell phone. I’m trying to get up the courage to call Stewart. With some fast
talking, I may just be able to pull this off. After all, it is in the best interests
of his nephew. I just have to make him see that.

Gabby has parked herself on the sofa to watch the
proceedings. There’s nothing like humiliating yourself in front of someone you
love. She’s in for a surprise. I haven’t had a chance to tell her about the big
plan, so it will be interesting to see her reaction to the call I’m about to
make.

“Nervous much?” she asks.

“Why would I be nervous about anything?”

“You tell me. You’ve been pacing around muttering to
yourself for the last ten minutes. What, are you calling the president or
something?”

“Close enough. I’m calling Stewart to...well, you’ll hear
soon enough.”

“I sure hope so. We only have five more hours before we’re
due at work, so you think maybe you can squeeze your phone call in that amount
of time?”

“Very funny Gabbs, very funny. I’m going to call him right
now, so hush.”

My hands are shaking so badly I can barely dial the right
numbers.

“Who is this?” Stewart demands when he answers, “Identify
yourself or I’m hanging up.”

“Sorry Stew, it’s June. I need to talk to you.”

“You’ve really got balls, calling here after everything
you’ve done. What makes you even think I want to hear anything you have to say?
And if you’re calling to apologize or ask for forgiveness, don’t waste your
breath, you’re never gonna get it. What you did to my nephew and the
band...un-fucking-forgivable!”

“Look Stewart, I won’t insult you by asking for forgiveness.
I don’t expect it. I could say I’m sorry a million times but that won’t mean
anything to you, I’m guessing.”

“So why call? Make it quick.”

“I understand. So, here it is. I have a plan that will
restore the band’s reputation.”

“And how you gonna do that missy?”

“I’m going to get them on stage in front of the news media
and they’re going to give a free impromptu concert for their fans and skeptics
alike.”

“Really? You find a garage somewhere they can play in?”

“How about the Fillmore, or the Greek, or the Sleep Train
Pavilion, or Shoreline Amphitheater?”

“What makes you think I can book any of those places? Even
in the middle of their sold-out tour it wasn’t easy to book venues. There’s
just so much competition that calendars of those places are booked well in
advance. And now, no way can I get them anywhere but a dive bar in East
Oakland. Sorry sister, but you're out of luck. So if that’s all the ideas you
got I think I’ll go and make myself some dinner.”

“Walker Stephenson.”

There’s a long pause. “Excuse me? Did I hear you say Walker
Stephenson?”

“You know you heard me right Stew.”

“So you’re going to just cold call the biggest promoter in
the business and what, cry on his shoulder? You think you can beg him into
helping you? Have you been drinking June? This really is a waste of time. Do
not call here—”

“He’s a friend. And he’s already got the venue. The press
will be there and so will Guitar Player and Rolling Stone Magazine.”

“Really? You don’t actually think I’m just going to take
your word for this, do you? Your credibility with me is at an all-time low, so
if you’re jerking my chain—”

“Why don’t you give him a call now and then call me back
when you’re ready to hear the rest of my plan.”

The line goes dead. I’ll take that as a yes he’s going to
call Walker, then call me back. That’s the second hardest phone call I have to
make. After I talk to Stewart and make sure he’s on board, I’ll make the
hardest call—to Silas. Actually, when he hears the venue and the fact that
Stewart is in on it, the call should be pretty smooth sailing. I think.

“So is he gonna call your bluff?” Gabby asks. “What’s your
plan when he finds out you don’t have a plan?”

“Oh but I do have a plan Gabbs. I just spent sixteen hours
in a terminal and on a bus with Walker, and he’s already booked the venue. It’s
gonna happen, Gabby. I just have to get Silas on board, but that should be
relatively easy when he finds that their manager is down with the plan.”

“It sounds a little too good to be true, June. You really
sure this Walker guy is helping you? I mean, why would a guy like that go out
of his way to help?”

“He’ll help. We had a connection and—”

“More like a love connection I bet.”

“I wish. He bats for the other team. Anyway, trust me, this
guy is going to help. Any minute Stewart’s going to call back with the
confirmation. Then I get the unpleasant task of calling Silas and inviting him
to the Fringe come-back concert.”

“Sounds like you got it all figured out.”

“Well, none of it is going to make any difference if I can’t
get Stewart on board.”

We spend the next anxious ten minutes talking about my bus
adventure with Walker when my phone starts ringing. It must be Stewart.

With my heart in my mouth I retrieve my phone from the
couch. This whole thing hinges on me getting Stewart to agree and help get the
rest of the band on board. If Stewart says go to hell, my little rescue project
goes down the toilet.

I answer without bothering to see who is calling. “Hello?”

“I’m in. I’ll do what I can to get the other guys to the
show, but Silas is on you.”

“No problem.”

“Oh, it’s going to be a problem. He’s three days into a
thirty day stint at the John Forbes Clinic.”

“He’s in rehab?! Well...I’ll just go and get him.”

Stewart actually laughs. “Excuse me, but I thought I heard
you say you’re going to just go and get him.”

“Yes, I did. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, but the clinic might have a problem with you breaking
out one of their patients.”

“Wait a second. Wasn’t his going there voluntary? How could
they have an issue if he changes his mind?”

“I’m not up on all the legal stuff, but once he commits
himself to their clinic, he is committed there until they give him a clean bill
of health and release him. That means that after his two month stay there,
he’ll be on house arrest for another one to four months in a halfway house. He
can only go out for meeting or to see a doctor.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“Well…Forbes is a last chance, last house of the block kind
of a thing and they take their responsibilities seriously. Once you sign on the
dotted line, they are committed to do everything in their power to rehabilitate
you. You basically sign over your rights until you’re discharged.”

“What’s all this talk about last chances? I didn’t even
think he was using drugs, or drinking for that matter.”

“He wasn’t. But he has a nasty history of drug abuse and
alcoholism. I nearly lost my nephew five years ago and I’m not going to lose
him again. The day the record label called, he got drunk and he stayed that way
until the other day when I hog tied him and had him admitted.”

“Oh my god, I had no idea about his past. I knew he didn’t
party after shows like Hammer and the guys did, but I didn’t know why. I just
thought he was all into the healthy lifestyle thing. So if he’s an addict, then
why are you helping? You must not want me to get him released right?”

“Oh no, I do want you to get him out. Sure, if he went through
the 60 day program there, and completed his halfway house requirements, he’d be
clean and sober, but that’s it. There’d be no spark of life, just an empty
shell of a man.”

“So then what?”

“I believe the only way Silas can be saved is by breaking
him out of that clinic and getting him to your venue to play again. As much as
I don’t like you, or the fact that it has to be you to do this, I believe it’s
his only chance to be whole again. Break him out, do your show, and if he still
needs to rehab you can take him back to Forbes to do just that. Their world
tour can wait a few months if need be.”

“I am so sorry Stewart, I had no idea how my actions—”

“If you’re truly sorry for what you have done, then you will
find a way to get him to that show, and make sure he’s sober.”

“I thought you just said this would save him. Now you’re
saying he’ll get drunk or—”

“After the show, after he redeems himself, he’ll be safe.”

“Alright, I get it. Do you have an address for this Forbes
Clinic?”

“Yeah, you’re going to be heading back to LA.”

“I promise, I will make this right.”

“You’d better. Don’t call me again until you have my nephew
with you. You understand?”

“Understood. So is this place like a jail? How am I supposed
to break him out?”

“With a little ingenuity, you should be able to get him out.
Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

Before I can respond the line goes dead. How am I going to
get him out? This is crazy.

"Are you freaking crazy June?” demands Gabby, “You’re
gonna get yourself arrested and your career is gonna go down the toilet. You
can’t do this, and I won’t let you!”

“What are you going to do, tie me to my bed?”

“I’m sorry you messed up, but throwing your career away is
no way to save his. Silas can save himself. Pretty soon he’ll be out of
treatment and he can resurrect his music career in his own way. People will
respect that. Look, you’re not responsible for how he reacts to difficult
times. Everybody has rough patches now and then.”

“I just can’t sit on the sidelines and watch.”

“I know. You’re a paramedic and you think you have to save
everybody. Sometimes you just have to let people fall down and pick themselves
up on their own...or not.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”

We fall into an uncomfortable silence until it’s time for me
to go to work. If I suddenly became a billionaire, I would still work my
nightshift at the ER. Not only am I saving myself, but it gives me purpose, and
what’s a life with no purpose?

Chapter Twenty-two

Jail Break

The next couple weeks fly by. I have yet to formulate a plan
for getting Silas out of Forbes, but I did hear by way of texts that he has
been busted for sneaking in heroin. He is due to get out of lockdown and in
general population soon. That means I need to bust him out either that night or
the next day, and he’d better be sober. Hopefully he won’t still be detoxing
from the heroin. No way can he do the show if he’s hallucinating and vomiting
all over the place.

This morning, I decide it’s time to spring Silas from
lock-down at the Forbes Clinic. I still have no concrete plan as to how I’m
going to do it, but I’m hoping that during the drive I’ll have a brainstorm and
won’t have to just wing it. One thing I’d like to know is, how committed are
they to keeping Silas there? What’s their security like, if any? What are they
willing to do to stop someone from getting out? I’d love to have the answers to
these questions before I get to the facility. I finally decide to give my good
friend Stewart a call.

“What is it June?” he asks when he answers his phone.

“I need you to get me on the visitation list.”

“Visitation list?”

“Yeah, all those treatment places have a list of who is
allowed to visit and  take part in the patients’ therapy. I’d like to be put on
the list. Tell them I’m his long lost sister or something. That should work.”

“Fine, you’re his sister. I’m still not sure he’s allowed
visitors. They never said anything to me about a list.”

“No doubt you’re at the top of it. Call me when I’m cleared.
And Stew, it has to be today. I’m on my way down there as we speak and I want
to see him tonight if possible. So find out visitation hours, days, things like
that.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies and hangs up.

My plan, such that it is, is to hang out with him, walk
around getting the lay of the land. And then maybe I can form a real plan of
action. Without seeing the place, it’s impossible to really make any kind of
plan. I hope Stewart thinks to give Silas a heads up.

I arrive at my hotel and check in. I’m sitting in a parking
lot across from the facility and doing binocular surveillance. Fortunately for
me, there are no perimeter guards. In fact, people seem to be pretty free to
come and go. They’re probably staff, but at the rate they do come and go, they
must not be checking them very thoroughly. Maybe there’s not even anyone at the
doors to check people at all.

My phone ringing makes me just about hit the roof of my car.
“Stew?”

“You’re on the list but there’s a slight problem. I couldn’t
get Silas on the phone so he has no idea you’ll be showing up. You guys better
be damn good actors. I told them you’d be coming in tomorrow afternoon for a
visitation lunch.”

“Tomorrow? Why not today? I’m sitting here in my car across
the street watching the place. Why not tonight?”

“Because he won’t be released from his detox. He’ll be out
in the general population tomorrow morning. Sorry, but that’s the best I can do
on short notice. You’ll just have to make it work, June.”

“Fine, no problem. I’m getting him out one way or another.”

“That’s the spirit. Talk to you later, and good luck.”

Well I’m not going to accomplish anything by sitting here
any longer. I’m about to start up my car when a sharp rapping on my widow makes
me jump. “What the hell?”

There’s a shady looking guy in his early thirties standing
outside my window. He’s wearing a black hoodie, faded jeans, and about a week’s
growth on his face. Despite the darkening skies, he’s wearing shades. He
motions for me to roll down my window.

“Who are you?” I yell through the glass.

“Are you Kate’s girl?”

“Kate’s...you mean girlfriend?” He nods and motions me to
roll my window down again. I roll it down about two inches so we don’t have to
yell at each other. “Can I sit down?” he asks, pointing to my empty passenger
seat.

“Who’s Kate?” I ask, ignoring his request to come in my car.

“She’s a girl in there. I thought you were her girl. Sorry.”

“It’s cool. Hey, you ever been inside?”

“Yeah once. Then I got uninvited. Seems they don’t take
kindly to outsiders sneaking in booze for their patients.”

I have to laugh. This guy looks just like the type that
would do that. “Hey, does anyone sneak...other things in there?”

“You talking about candy bars and coffee...or something
else?”

“Something else.”

“You a cop?” he asks.

“Nope.”

“Prove it.”

“How?” I’m curious. Maybe this guy can tell me how to get
someone out of there.

For an answer he takes a pack of cigarettes out of his
pocket and pulls out a joint. He lights it, takes a long pull, then offers it
to me. Not sure I really want to do this. I haven’t smoked pot since my college
days. On the other hand, this guy knows the place. After a quick deliberation,
I decide to roll the window down and prove I’m not the police. I take a long
drag and burst out coughing. He laughs as I hand him back his joint.

“Well sister, you obviously haven’t partaken in a long time.
You’re gonna like this. In a minute it’s gonna kick in,” he laughs again.
“Judging by your eyes, it already has. Enjoy.”

He takes another hit and offers it again. This time I
refuse. I’ve already proven my point and I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy. I still
gotta drive back to the hotel. If I smoke any more there’s no telling where I
might end up instead.

“So, mister. If I were to get in...as a family member. How
would I get my brother out?”

“Who’s your brother?”

“Silas. Silas Mann, lead guitarist for Fringe.”

“Holy shit! I knew that guy looked familiar. Since he plays
guitar in my favorite metal band, I’m gonna help you. You obviously got no idea
what the hell you’re doing so I’ll help you, for a small price of course.”

“I won’t sleep with you, if that’s what you mean. What’s
your name, by the way?”

“Sawyer...call me Sawyer. And sister, no offense, but you
ain’t my type. I’m not into good girls, sorry.”

“That’s cool, because I’m—”

“So you got a way into the place?”

“I do. I’m on the visitation list for a couple days. So
what’s your price?”

For an answer, he produces a pack of cigarettes that appears
to be unopened. “I can’t get in, but you can. If you get in and deliver my
little package, I’ll make sure you can get out.” He flicks away the last of the
joint he’s been sucking on and hands the package through the window. How he can
smoke that much of the stuff and remain standing is beyond me. I’m so wasted
right now I don’t dare drive. I haven’t felt this mellow in eons. No wonder
people like this stuff so much.

“I can’t do it.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I can’t smuggle drugs for you. I’ll get busted and wind up
in a worse place than Forbes.”

“Who said anything about drugs? It’s just a pack of
cigarettes. Look, it ain’t even been opened yet.”

I look it over more thoroughly this time. He’s right, it
hasn’t been opened. So why smuggle in cigarettes? I decide to ask him.

“Cause they can’t have them. Just like they don’t get coffee
or candy or anything with sugar or caffeine. They’re all about this clean
living shit so they’ll do anything for a Snickers Bar.”

“Alright fine.” I stick the pack in my purse. “So how you
gonna get us out?”

“Mind if I come in?” He asks, pointing to my passenger seat.

“Why not.” I unlock the door.

“Here’s the plan,” he says as he takes a seat.

~~~

“It’s so nice to meet you,” says the Director of patient
services when I stop by the next day. “I had no idea Silas had any family
members other than his uncle.”

I shake her hand and smile apologetically. “Well, I’m not
surprised he hasn’t mentioned me. I’m his half-sister, and to tell you the
truth, we haven’t always seen eye to eye. But I really want to support him
here. I think what he is trying to do is commendable. There aren’t many people
in his line of work that are sober.”

She laughs warmly. “No, I imagine not.”

“So where is he?”

“He’s in the recreation room. Just go down this hall and
turn into the last door on the right. I’ll let you two get caught up. I’m sure
you have plenty to talk about.”

“Yes...yes we do.”

“Alright then, enjoy your visit.”

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you letting me see
him on short notice.”

“You’re very welcome. We believe this is going to give him
the boost he needs for his recovery. Now have a nice visit.”

“Thanks,” I say as I turn to go.

Now all I have to do is pull this off. If there are any
staffers around when we meet, this might be difficult. He has no idea I’m here.
I insisted it be a surprise. If I would have let them notify him of my visit,
my cover would have been blown and I’d never get in the place. This should be
interesting.  As I walk down the long hall, I go over in my head what I’m going
to say to him to convince him to break out of here and play another gig. I just
hope my new friend the drug dealer holds up his part of the bargain. Speaking of
bargain, I almost forgot about my little package. Just before reaching the
recreation room door, I open the last door on the left, the east wing. It’s
another long hall with numbered rooms on either side. If I run into an
inquisitive staff member I’ll just say I’m lost.

So far so good. I just have to find room 111, about half way
down the hall on the left. I grab the door handle and am just about to turn it
when someone says, “Lost?”

I turn around, my hand resting on the handle to room 111.
“Uh...I’m looking for—”

“Rec room is at the end of the hall you just came from, last
door on the right.”

“Ah...right. Thought she said left. Thanks so much.”

“Who you visiting today?”

“My brother. Half-brother. Silas Mann. I was told he’d be in
the recreation room.”

“That’s where I saw him last. Follow me, I’ll take you
there.”

“I can find it now. And besides, I kinda want it to be a
surprise. We haven’t seen each other in years so it’s kind of a personal
thing...”

“I get it, no problem. Have a wonderful visit. By the way,
just so you know, he can’t take you back to his room. He knows, but I want to
make sure you know. I wouldn’t want you to get him into trouble. No visitors
are allowed in any of the patient wings.”

“Of course, thank you.”

Finally she lets me go. My heart is pounding as I make my
way back to the main hallway. This is not going to be as easy as I thought,
delivering this package. I’ll just have to find another way to wander down this
wing again.

I pause before opening the recreation room door. I don’t know
that I can pull this off. I’ve never been a good actor, and I’m a lousy liar.
I’ve got no idea how I’m going to convince him to stow away with me. Oh well,
here goes. I turn the knob and walk in.

I find myself in a large gathering hall filled with families
and friends. Looks like this is a popular place. There must be thirty tables
here and most of them are occupied. The whole north wall is floor to ceiling
windows, and outside those windows seems to be one huge outdoor recreation
area. This place looks more like a resort than a drug and alcohol treatment
center. If I was here, I don’t think I’d ever want to leave.

“Looking for someone?” Oh my god. There’s that voice. A
chill runs down my spine. I’d nearly forgotten the way Silas makes my body
respond. It’s as if it has a mind of its own. “Ma’am, are you looking for
someone?”

I turn around slowly, praying he doesn’t make a scene. “Hi
Silas.”

His mouth drops open. “June? What are you doing here? How’d
you find me? Did Stewart put you up to this?”

“No he didn’t. It was my idea. He just told me where to find
you and got me on your visitor list. By the way, I’m your half-sister. Same
dad, different mom, and we haven’t seen each other in over five years.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“In case someone sees us together and asks. I’m only in town
for the day, and then I’m flying out. That’s why I can only see you today and
tomorrow for your therapy sessions.”

“What do I want you in my therapy sessions for? They’re not
about you.” Suddenly I feel strangely deflated. I guess I’d hoped he’d be all
broken up about me. “Why are you here June?”

“Can we uh, find a place a little more private to talk?” I
ask, pointing to the outside.

“I’ll give you five minutes then you gotta leave. No therapy
sessions.”

“Of course.”

“I have to say, I’m a little disappointed that you’re here
and Stewart couldn’t be bothered to come and see me. Did he send a message for
you to deliver to me?”

“Sorry, no message.”

He turns to go outside. “Follow me...little sister.”

I can’t believe how much I’ve missed him. He holds the door
open for me and my arm brushes his chest as I go out. It’s instant goose bumps
all up and down my arm. I have this sudden urge to grab his head and kiss him
passionately right in front of everyone.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“No...nothing’s wrong. It’s just good to see you,” I reply
as I start walking again. We stop when we find a spot that’s relatively
private. The nearest person is twenty feet away. This’ll have to do. Silas
doesn’t bother to sit down so I do.

“Out with it, what brings you here?” he makes a point of
looking at his watch. “You got five minutes, then I go and you have to leave
and not come back, got it?”

“Yes, I got it.” I have to get this right. “Silas, what
would you say if I told you there’s a way for you to get back everything you
had. The band, your tour, and more fame and success than you could have ever
hoped for. What if I could get you on the cover of Rolling Stone?”