Dark Star: Confessions of a Rock Idol (27 page)

“You can’t do that,” Zaney breathed. “The minute you take your eyes off me…you’re dead.”

All of us left David’s hospital room, except his mother and father.

Quite a few visitors still remained in the lamp-lit waiting area, and I knew they would be seeking an update on David. As Mary spoke quietly with Mom and Howard, and they prepared to share the distressing news with the others, I ducked into the men’s restroom.

With my face in the far corner, my heart rate increasing, I dialed Karen’s home phone number.

Staring at the black and green designs on the walls, I waited anxiously. One, two rings.
“The number you have dialed is not a working number,”
came the recording.
“Please check the number and dial again.”

My insides ached. I was far away and helpless. I didn’t know Karen’s cell phone number. So I called information for the Topeka police department and waited to be connected.

Rubbing my sore eyes, I asked if they had any information about a fire within the last hour. Had any police, fire, or rescue squads been sent to a Bayliss residence, Karen Bayliss…?

I got zero answers from an uppity young officer. A brick wall.

“Listen,” I said, frustrated, “there’s a fire burning, probably right this minute, at the home of a Topeka resident. Her name is Karen Bayliss. B-A-Y-L-I-S-S. I do not have her address, and I’m calling from out of town. But I just spoke with her, and her home is
on fire.”

“You told me that already,” said the officer. “And I told you that I would check into it.”

“May I wait…to see what you find?”

“No, you may not,” he shot back. “First of all, it’s going to take me a while to get to it. Second, I am not at liberty to give out that kind of information over the phone. You’ll have to call back in a half-hour or so.”

“Can you give me the number of the Topeka fire department?”

“Just dial 911.”

“I am not in Kansas! I’m in New York! Look, someone’s life is at stake here. Now I need you to get me a local number for the Topeka fire department, or—”

He interrupted, reading the number.

I dialed and, yes, stations 10, 15, and 21 had dispatched units to a house fire in suburban Topeka about an hour ago. The Bayliss residence. At last report, four tanker trucks were at the scene, and the house was fully engulfed.

I bolted out of the restroom and went to Mary like a paper clip to a magnet.

With tissues waded in her soft hand and red patches beneath her eyes, she sat quietly, visiting with Sheila’s brother, Bill, and four or five other people I did not know, several of whom were in tears as well. Teenager Madison was there as well, looking fatigued and confused, her dark mascara smudged at both eyes.

They politely understood when I excused myself and called Mary away, probably thinking I needed to consult her about family matters or funeral arrangements.

That’s when I spilled my guts about Karen and the fire.

“I don’t know what else to do,” I said anxiously. “Maybe I should fly out there, but I can’t leave Eddie…”

“My gosh, Everett, what is going on? Is Endora Crystal behind this?”

“I think so. She’s disappeared. I haven’t heard from her in weeks.”

“You need to keep checking back with the fire department for details and keep trying Karen’s number. I would tell you to fly out there, but…people are going to need you here.”

“I know.” I searched her eyes for more answers.

Then she hugged me, and I squeezed her like a boy does his mother.

“She’s going to be okay,” Mary said, holding me. “Father in heaven, we pray for Karen right now, that You will protect her from danger. Get her out of that house safely, we ask. Let her be safe, Lord… And take special care of our family right now, as we grieve.”

My phone rang.

“That’s me.” I left Mary’s grasp and headed around the corner to a vacant waiting area pulling out my phone at the same time.

“Hello!” I shouted.

“Well, hello, stranger,” came the jovial voice. “You sound in good spirits.”

Mary had come around the corner to see if it was Karen, but she caught my glare instead. I mouthed to her:
Endora.

“Everett…can you hear me?”

“I hear you,” I said coldly.

Mary was at my side now. She covered up the phone and whispered, “Be
nice
. You need to play her game, so you can find out what’s going on.”

“What’s happening with you?” Endora said. “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I was visiting my sister’s place in Sedona, taking kind of a sabbatical. You know what I mean?”

Hearing her voice made me sick.

“I’ve been taking some time off, too,” I said, afraid she would pick up on the suspicion, the hatred in my voice. “Listen, Endora, there’s been a bad accident. It’s my brother Eddie’s son, David. He just passed away a few minutes ago from a car wreck he was in earlier today.”

“Oh, no,” she whined. “I’m so sorry.”

“I just need to be with Eddie and the family right now. Maybe we can get together in a few days. Would that be okay?”

“That’s just what I was thinking, hon. You be with your family now. When we meet, we can catch up. Hey, maybe we can go to your place in Miami. I’d love to get down there where it’s nice and warm.”

“That’s possible. I’ll call you.”

“Everett,” she said, catching me just before I hung up. “David is all right, you know… He’s on the Other Side now.”

21

I HOPED MY PHYSICAL
presence was good enough to comfort Eddie, his family, and my mother, Doris, because my mind was far from the third floor of White Plains Hospital Center.

That sounded cold, but Karen had grown to mean a great deal to me. She probably didn’t know that, but it was true. I wasn’t at all myself not knowing where she was, if she was okay, and whether she was still smiling.

Don’t get me wrong, my heart broke for our whole family. Losing David would be the hardest thing most of us would ever have to deal with. For Mom, of course, that was when my father died. But this, this was bad. A parent never thinks he’ll outlive his children. Eddie existed in another world.

The call from Karen came at 2:20 a.m., and when it did, my lips quivered as I held back the strains of joy. After saving all she could from her burning home, she was taken by paramedics to a local hospital in Topeka, treated for smoke inhalation, then released shortly thereafter. She was calling from the Residence Inn just outside Topeka, near her home, which was now smoldering ashes and wet, black soot.

“I’ve had my eye on this cute little white house in Vinings, anyway,” came the voice I had come to adore. “It’s got a big front porch with a swing and a separate garage out back.”

“Karen, you’ve lost everything. And it’s my fault,” I whispered, from around the corner of where Eddie’s family gathered. “Endora’s behind this. I’ve brought this trouble to you.”

“I got the important things. My photo albums and Bibles, and the keepsakes from the kids at church.”

“Karen,” I said, exasperated. “Endora—whoever did this—he or she is not messing around.”

“I know, I know. This is a war…”

For the first time, I heard her break down.

“I’m sorry,” I pleaded into the phone. “So sorry I can’t be there.”

Her breathing turned to short, choppy gasps.

“There’s a reason God put you on my heart so long ago,” she cried. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t want anything to happen to you before…”

I shook my head. “I’m going to find out what’s going on. I’ll take care of it, I promise you.”

“Everett.” She inhaled deeply. “There
is
a heaven and there
is
a hell. There is no Other Side! Do you understand me?”

She
knew
this was true. It was no theory to her. And she cared enough about me to share, to warn…

“I’m the messenger,” she managed, “your messenger. And before another minute goes by, I want to be clear to you that there is only
one way
to the Father—to God—and that’s through Jesus Christ, believing in Him. The Bible says that, Everett.”

“Karen, we can talk…”

“He’s gone to prepare a place for us. In heaven, forever.” She was regaining her wind. “If you reject Him, there is a hell. It’s darkness and fire—and it’s forever, too.”

“Karen, I’m not used to this. Someone caring. I’m thinking about what you’re telling me…”

“You need to do more than think about it! You may not have much time. Who knows what Endora has planned.”

“I’m not going to do it halfway, Karen! Okay? If and when it happens, I want it to be real.”

Quiet descended, and then she blew her nose.

“Okay, fine,” she bounced back. “Just don’t wait too long. There
is
an urgency. That ‘Other Side’ stuff is complete mysticism, and you need to be radical enough to follow Christ. That’s it. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“Phew.” I laughed. “You’ve got some fire little lady.”

She laughed, too, and finished crying at the same time.

“I’m setting up a meeting with Endora.”

“Have you talked to her?” Karen asked.

“She called tonight. I was ready to ream her out, but Mary said I need to get close to her again, so I can find out what’s going on, who’s after you…”

“Everett, you’ve got to be so careful. This is Satan himself you’re dealing with. Do you hear me? Endora
is
Satan.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Karen, but I’ve got to get into her mind.”

“No! It’s not worth it. Don’t give her an inch. I’m telling you, don’t put yourself in a position to be under her evil authority. She’ll suck you in!”

“I’ll be careful,” I promised. “Look, I want to come to you, to help you.”

“That’s not necessary. I got a lot of my clothes out. My folks have helped set up me up in this nice hotel. I’m going to take a week off to square the insurance away and find a new house. It’s gonna be okay, really.”

“It’s your safety I’m concerned about.”

“I know,” she said. “Believe me, I’m keeping my eyes open. I know this is real. Don’t worry. I’m being careful.”

“Maybe I should hire you a bodyguard.”

“Oh, right!” she moaned. “You’ve been in showbiz too long.”

“I’m serious. Or maybe I should come out there in a day or two to help you.”

“That’s kind of you, Everett, but my folks are here. They’ll help me find the right place and get some new furniture and stuff.”

“Can I send you some money?”

“No!”

“If anything out of the ordinary happens—phone calls, black roses—you call me. Anytime, day or night.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“One of these days I’m going to show up there, you know.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

I wondered if she felt the same way I did precisely at that moment.

Cloud nine.

“There’s a reason I’m not there right now, Karen. It’s one of my brother’s boys, David…”

“Oh, my gosh. That’s right! You were just starting to tell me about it.”

“Yeah,” I said, slumping back to reality. “He died tonight.”

“Oh, Everett, no!” She sighed. “Tell me what happened.”

The days that followed were long and difficult.

Although Eddie and Sheila invited Mary, Howard, my mother, and me to stay with them at their large home in White Plains, we all felt a bit awkward and exposed. Mary was the exception, of course. She seemed happy in the moment, content wherever, whatever the circumstance. I admired her immensely.

During our stay, Madison remained in her room upstairs most of the time, only joining us for meals once in a while. When she did come around, she was shy and reserved, usually only giving one- or two-word answers when spoken to.

Wesley was seldom home. Every now and then, a loud car would pull up in front of the house, especially in the early-morning hours, and he would run out or run in through the side garage door, often with a backpack on his shoulder. He was nineteen, didn’t have a steady job, and had no interest in college. Eddie still gave him a weekly allowance. I wondered what was in the backpack.

David’s funeral was terribly sad. It took place on a dark, cold, drizzly fall afternoon. There seemed to be virtually no color in the universe that day, only gray and black, silhouettes and shadows.

I was surprised by the weight of the casket, as I helped hoist if off the rollers from the back of the shiny black hearse and carried it through the wet grass, up to the knoll that Eddie and Sheila had decided would be David’s resting place.

The dirt taken from the eight-foot rectangle in the ground sat in a low pile nearby, with a green blanket over it that read “Relova’s Funeral Home” in embroidered white letters.

Awkwardly, we eased the casket onto a stretcher that rested directly above the crevice in the ground. Most of the crowd gathered beneath a large green open-air tent, which also featured the name of the funeral home. Some of the mourners, however, spilled out beyond the tent, their umbrellas adding splashes of color to the gray hilltop graveyard.