The Duet (12 page)

Jay thought he might be watching his best friend turn into the same thing. He and Trisha fought all the time. Then they made up and couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Their fights even got physical sometimes. He drank all the time, either because they were celebrating or because he was mourning a breakup. Cooper had cried to Jay this last time over her. He’d cried, for God’s sake.

It wasn’t healthy, the way they hurt each other over and over. Cooper was headed down a road that only led to one place. And that place was not a good one. Jay couldn’t stop it, just like he couldn’t stop his parents; because people like that don’t want to be saved. They’re already dead inside. They just don’t know it.

Cooper started singing, and as the words got more and more explicit and harder and harder to misunderstand the cruel intent, Jay tried to pretend he was just playing any other song. He was just performing, hitting the notes, backing up the singer. But then he saw Izzy fight her way to the front of the crowd and take a crying, shaking Trisha by the shoulders, before dragging her out the front doors, and he couldn’t pretend anymore.

The next part seemed to happen in slow motion. Jay watched as Cooper spotted Trisha being led outside. The singing stopped in mid-verse and the drums, bass and finally the guitar all stopped playing as well. There was a surreal moment of silence as the crowd tried to disseminate whether this was part of the act or something much more dramatic.

Then all hell broke loose when Cooper threw his microphone down. It made a sickening screeching sound before bouncing hard on the stage and popping an unsuspecting fan in the cheek. Someone threw a bottle at Cooper. It shattered at his feet, but the second one nailed him on the head. Jay reached for him, trying to tackle him before things got any worse, but Cooper slipped out of his grip and dove into the crowd.

“Shit,” Jay said, wasting no time before jumping down off the stage to try and help his friend. The rest of the band was right behind him.

On the floor, fists were flying everywhere. There were at least four guys and possibly one girl taking turns beating the crap out of Cooper. Without too much thought about his own personal safety, Jay bent over to try and pick up Cooper. He caught a mind-numbing right hook to the chin that made him see stars. But he grabbed Cooper’s shirt and dragged him back and out of the center of the ring. The other two band members, along with some good Samaritans from the crowd, were able to hold back the violent offenders. Jay didn’t wait to see what would happen next. He lifted a nearly passed out Cooper over his shoulder and limped outside, where he dumped Cooper unceremoniously behind a dumpster to try and avoid inviting the fight to continue outside.

“Oh my God. Cooper?” Trisha rounded the corner, and dropped on her knees beside her blood soaked boyfriend.

Jay stared at her, crying and kissing Cooper’s face as if he hadn’t just basically called her the world’s most evil bitch in front of three hundred fifty people.

And then he snapped.

“You!” he took Trisha by the collar and pointed a finger near her face. “You have got to get your shit together, do you hear me?”

“Jay, stop it!” He felt a hand on his shoulder, but shrugged it off. He had more to say, and he wanted to say it, goddamn it.

“No, I won’t stop it!” he said over his shoulder, barely computing that it was Izzy trying to talk him down from the ledge he was on. He turned back to Trisha. “You can’t keep doing this to each other. Either walk away and never come back, or figure out how to stop torturing each other.”

“Jay, it’s not her fault. Cooper shouldn’t….”

“I know that! Don’t you think I know that? I’ll give him a lecture later, but right now he’s unconscious and someone’s gonna listen to me! This is bullshit. He’s killing himself over her, and she can’t make up her mind if she wants him or she doesn’t.” He threw his hands up in the air and took a step away. “And my fucking jaw hurts!” he screamed into the air. It did. It hurt so bad he was started to get dizzy, and that only pissed him off more.

“I think we should get him to a hospital.” Izzy sounded calm, but her body was shaking. He knew she was worried about Cooper, and that his outburst was only worsening the situation, and he hated like hell that she was seeing him melt down.

Trisha started sobbing again, and leaned over Cooper, telling him how much she loved him and droning on and on and on.

Jay clenched his fists to his side and spoke through clenched teeth. “Izzy, take her home. Now. I’m serious. Get her the hell away from me. I can’t listen to this.”

Izzy looked over at him and he wanted so bad to tell her it wasn’t her he was mad at. He actually just wanted to leave Cooper there with Trisha and let the two of them figure out what to do, so he could take Izzy and get the hell out of there.

“I can help you get him to the hospital. You should probably get looked at, too.”

“I’m fine. Just… please.”

Izzy looked at him as if she were deciding whether or not to argue. Finally, she leaned down and spoke softly to Trisha before the two walked away.

Jay watched them leave, then ran his hand across his cheek, holding in his breath and then releasing it in one long gush. He smacked Cooper lightly on the face until he woke up enough to stand, then got him to the car and drove out of the lot, just as the cops were arriving.

After four hours in the emergency room, and a silent and tense ride home with Cooper in tow, Jay was about done for. His whole face was on fire now. They’d checked him out briefly at the hospital, given him a week’s worth of Oxy along with instructions on what to do with Cooper, then sent them both on their way.

Cooper had passed out on his bed - fully clothed - about five minutes after they got home, but there was no way Jay was sleeping with his head throbbing like it was. He turned on the TV and lay on the couch, hoping the absence of movement would at least provide a little relief.

He had just crossed over into semi-consciousness, when he heard a key in the lock. He tried to pick up his head, but gave up. It just hurt too damn much.

Izzy knelt down next to him. He felt her fingers lightly touch his jaw. It felt so good, he just squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. Maybe if she could just stay here and touch his face like that, the pain might be manageable enough to get some sleep.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

He nodded, not opening his eyes.

“Did you take anything?”

“No.”

“I’ll get you some Advil.” She started to get up, then saw the painkillers on the coffee table. “Ah, this is even better. Here, sit up.”

She shook two pills into her hand, and Jay grabbed her wrist. “I can’t take those,” he said softly.

“You’re in so much pain, Jay. Just take them and you can sleep.”

He shook his head adamantly, wincing. Then he opened his eyes in time to see the understanding dawn on her face. She got up and went into the kitchen. He thought she might just leave, but she came right back with a bottle of water.

“Take these now. Okay? I’m gonna put the rest in my purse and wake you up in four hours to give you two more.”

He blinked up at her, then gave an almost imperceptible nod before taking the pills and swallowing them down with half the bottle of water.

He closed his eyes, and almost immediately started to drift. Just before he fell off completely, he felt her hand on his forehead, and her breath near his ear. “You’re not your father, Jay. You’re not.”

17

Every bad decision has a consequence, and Cooper’s choice to sing that song and lose his temper on stage was going to cost the whole band.

Darden banned The UnAmused from performing at the club for two weekends; but with the following they had, he couldn’t afford to fire them altogether. They also had to work their first two weekends for free, to make up the cost of some minor damages, and to hire additional security.

Cooper was not the most popular person with his bandmates at the moment. But he was, however, happily back together with Trisha; a fact that both I, and I suspected Jay, were extremely wary about.

I had still performed the last two weeks and was creating a buzz of my own. And I had to admit, I was starting to get a taste for all the attention. There had even been some talk of me and Cooper singing together during The UnAmused’s return to the club on Friday night. We knocked around a few ideas, and settled on a duet of the Rolling Stones’ Beast of Burden, in Bette Midler-Mick Jagger style.

I got to the club late for practice, as usual. It had become a weekly ritual of mine to check in on Jo-Jo every Friday, and I was making no apologies for it. I wasn’t lying when I told her she boosted my ego, and I was pretty certain she had come to look forward to my visits quite a bit as well. Today we had slipped in to an easy conversation about the pros and cons of the DVR and its effects on the entertainment industry as a whole, then had gotten into a heated, but friendly little argument about the merits of Bruce Springsteen. Jo-Jo thought he was a talentless hack, and I dared to say that he was as important to music and as multi-generational as Dylan. We had to agree to disagree on that one.

Jay and I were back to tolerating each other, but at least it wasn’t uncomfortable to be around him. So when I walked in, and he was on the stage alone, head bent over his guitar, I jumped up to listen to what he was working on. He just hated when I did that.

“What is that?” I asked, startling him.

He looked up without lifting his head. “Just something I’ve been messing around with.”

“Let me hear it. It sounded pretty good.”

“It isn’t ready.”

I squinted my eyes at him. I was in a playful mood. And before I gave it too much thought, I snatched the open notebook from the floor in front of him.

“Are these the lyrics?” I asked, scanning the page.

“Maybe.”

“Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much, Jay? You’re a regular blabbermouth.” I smiled and kept reading.

But the smile froze on my face. The lyrics were… well, they were beautiful. But they were also the most heartbreaking words I’d ever read. I certainly knew Jay had a knack for writing; I probably knew that better than anyone. But other than the ill-fated song Cooper had performed, I had never seen or heard his words in lyric form. I closed my eyes and tried to hum the small bit of the tune he’d been playing when I walked in. Then I read the words in my head while humming.

It was good. Like really, amazingly good. And I wanted to tell him I thought so. But by the look on his face, I didn’t think he would believe me. He almost looked embarrassed.

“Can I have my book back please?” he asked in a stony voice, holding his hand out.

I snatched it back like a child. “Jay.” I said, swallowing hard. He was staring at me and I forgot what I was going to say.

“What.”

“Can you play it? I just want to hear it again, while I have the words here. It’s good.”

He shook his head, but then started playing a few chords, then the melody, which instantly sent chills up my spine. I turned my back to him and walked away a few paces, listening and figuring how the words fit to the music. Then I started singing softly, increasing in volume as the first verse built into the chorus.

Don’t leave, don’t stay

Don’t push me away

Don’t smile, don’t cry

Don’t say goodbye

Don’t think you can fix me

Don’t try

His voice joined mine, quiet but strong in his gritty high baritone, perfectly pitched and harmonious with my own smoky alto. I didn’t turn around, afraid to ruin this moment that felt strangely too large to comprehend.

I let him sing the next verse, harmonizing the ends of each phrase until our voices joined once again for the chorus and then the bridge, building to the end of the song. He played the last chords, and when it was over I stood where I was, shaking from head to toe. I had never heard such silence. I felt it in every nerve ending of my body. It was all-encompassing. It seemed to go on forever, but it could have only been a few seconds before the spell was broken by a very enthusiastic Darden.

“Please, please, please tell me you are performing that song tonight on my stage,” he called out from behind the bar.

“I thought you said no originals.” Cooper walked out from backstage, chomping noisily on an apple.

“If the originals are anything like that song, with those two singing it, then I changed my mind. That song should be recorded. I bet I could start charging double the cover if they perform that.”

“It’s not ready,” Jay said. I turned around, thinking it was safe, but saw that he was looking right at me. He had a funny look on his face that I couldn’t quite decipher.

“Well, get it ready. You don’t have to do it tonight, but I’m gonna keep nagging at you until you do. I may not be a musical genius, but I know a good tune when I hear one.” Darden flipped a cigarette up in the air and caught it in his mouth before walking outside.

“Dude, that
was
really good,” Cooper said. “You guys should totally sing it. Maybe we could slip it in right between Layla and Smells Like Teen Spirit. Then we could go right into…”