Rockstar Savages

by Dixon, Ja'Nese

  “I’ve been asking myself that question a lot lately. I think our ability to learn and grow La Frank Records is commendable but, off the record, it has caused a strain on our personal relationships. It’s all about deals, spins, shows, and money.”

  “When did your family take over your management?”

  “They’ve always managed me. Well, not Marcel and Gabriel. They came in after graduating from college. Marcel first, he worked with Richard. Then Gabriel, and he hit the road with me.”

  He recalled her show and her mentioning being a drop out. “Did you go to college?”

  She paused so long he thought the line disconnected. “No, but I made sure my brothers did.”

  Jamal knew in that moment Carmela Franklin was in a league of her own. She supported her family, put her brothers through college, and here she was still fighting to open a space for the children in her community. “Tell me this. What did you mean when you said you want to retire? Actually, hold that thought. I’m going to call you right back.”

  They disconnected and he called her on FaceTime. He wanted to see her face. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Carmela fiddled with the phone, laying on her side, on what looked like a bunk.

  “You can use FaceTime on a plane?”

  “Yes, it’s private. We can do a lot of things.” He wiggled his eyebrows. One day he’d have her on this plane and they’d enjoy the amenities his wealth afforded him together.

  “Continue.”

  She nodded. “It boils down to, I’m tired. I’ve been doing this almost nonstop for fourteen years and I’m tired. Tired of this bus. Tired of traveling months at a time. I love my fans and performing but I need time to be Carmela.”

  He stopped to consider what she’d said and it all made sense. “Which is why you’re pushing for Crescendo?”

  “Yes, I love doing the work. But I want to sit still for a while and discover other aspects of myself. Most people get high school and college. I got a tour bus. I started working at fourteen and I haven’t stoped for more than a month at a time.”

  “I can’t imagine this went over well with your management.”

  “They don’t know.”

  Jamal fell back against the seat. “Why didn’t you tell them? This would mean a major shift for everyone.” He searched her eyes and saw a look he knew well. It was the look of someone caged in. “You feel trapped.”

  Carmela nodded.

  “Maybe they’ll surprise you.”

  “I’m it. They don’t have other clients. The moment I decide to stop touring and making music all of our revenue sources will dry up.”

  “So basically—”

  “I’m stuck.”

  “And you want to stop making music altogether?” He had to spin this to work for everyone.

  “I don’t think I could survive with making no music.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Well…” she turned over and the phone rocked. “If you sign me to RSE it would take away the whole business aspect, looking over the extended staff, and such. Maybe I could make a few studio albums and them tour again in a few years. But only ten to fifteen shows.”

  “Are you cool with giving up your independence?”

  “Yes, if it means everyone gets paid and I get peace of mind. I’m independent but I’m not married to it.”

  Jamal nodded, considering the contract opportunities. “When you come to Houston with me I want you to sit and meet with the other artists. It’s important for you to see how they each balance their contractual obligations to RSE with their lives.”

  “Can we also visit Harmony Dance and Juanita’s Casa?” She leaned forward with excitement in her eyes.

  “Yeah, sure. And Ronnie’s Heart. We support all three differently. They all receive financial support but, for example, the partners each teach a free community class at Harmony on a regular basis. I called Ronnie and Imani already. I want you to see how they each run their operations. I think it will help you shape your vision for Crescendo.”

  RSE managed to fund three nonprofits, adding Crescendo would be a breeze if he made the numbers work. It would also add an educational element.

  The stewardess stopped beside him, “Mr. Washington, we’ll land shortly.”

  “La, I gotta go. I’ll call you tonight after your show.”

  “Text me the update on John. Wait, do you call him John?”

  He smiled, “John or Pops.”

  “Send my love to Pops and I’ll talk with you later.” Her smile made his world right despite exiting the plane minutes later. And for the first time in his life, he felt like a son, concerned about his father. Jamal climbed into the waiting car, then sent Damian a text, I’m in ATL heading to the hospital.

  Chapter 20

  Carmela stared at the phone sending up a prayer for John and Jamal. That man of hers appeared cool, but she knew better. She rolled over to her back. The bus felt warm and the bed was uncomfortable.

  “Ready to explain what’s going on?” Gabriel peaked his head up from the bed beneath her. Another downside of the tour bus was no privacy. All bunks, always together.

  “What do you want to know?” She played with the ends of her locs.

  “Let’s go to the front.”

  The back of the bus was all bunks on the left and right side. The front was open with couches a small kitchen area and a booth table.

  “Is it me, or is it warm in here?”

  “It’s not you, it’s the bus. The AC is broke.”

  Carmela stopped shooting Gabriel a knowing glance. “We couldn’t get out the state good.”

  “I called Richard and he didn’t answer. The bus company is sending a mechanic to meet us at our first stop. We don’t have time to wait for him.” He picked the booth and I sat across from him. “We’re already cutting it close with time. Your interview is in a couple of hours, then sound check, and tonight’s show.”

  “Here we go again and I signed for ten more shows.”

  “On this tour? That’s another two months.”

  “I haven’t seen the locations or dates. We’ll do these dates, and I’ll request the holidays off. Then we can pick up the new dates in January or February. ” Taking time off November and December would give her time to visit Houston with Jamal before fulfilling the final dates. “But after this I’m not signing off for more dates for a while. I’m ready to sit still for a while.”

  “I don’t see that happening.”

  “Why not?”

  “La, you have to finish the EP, which we haven’t even started. You have the final fan show. Then you need to start on the next album.”

  “Give me a run down.”

  Gabriel recited the dates, locations, and her existing obligations. Richard booked shows in Louisiana, Oklahoma, Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, and South Carolina.

  “This bus will need to haul ass to get between a few of the shows. So, we need the guys to breakdown the set fast and cut out the extra Meet and Greets.”

  “Gabriel!” The Meet and Greets are her favorite part of touring. Meeting her fans, hearing their stories, it makes the miles on the bus worthwhile.

  “I know La, but we are tight.”

  “What if we cut a song from the set?”

  “Then you’re in breach of contract. You have to fulfill the minimum time, and we’re right at it.” He glances up from his phone. “I’ll see what we can do.”

  “Thank you Gabriel.” She smiles. “And thanks for meeting me this morning.”

  “I got you, but what’s the plan? And are you prepared to deal with Richard once he finds out?”

  “The only plan I have is to stop bleeding money. Jamal says it will help us monitor the flow of our finances.”

  “So this is Jamal’s doing?” He doesn’t appear angry, but concerned.

  “He asked if I really want RSE to help us.”

  “Are you planning to sign with RSE and what about La Frank Records? Will I still have a job?” H
e leaned in talking lower as a dancer walked pass.

  “Of course, you’ll have your job. As for signing, I don’t know. But I’m willing to do it if they’ll oversee all the grunt work. The producers, studio, tour booking, and fund Crescendo like their other nonprofits. I’m tired of wondering…” she paused glancing around to ensure no one was near, “whether checks are going to clear.”

  Gabriel nods his head. “I feel you. But I can’t see them doing it and keeping Richard. Don’t be surprised if they want to clean out management all together.”

  Carmela stiffened, searching her brother’s eyes. She pulled at her sleeve. She didn’t want Gabriel to worry and she couldn’t tell him that Jamal already asked whether she’d consider replacing her team.

  “La, I did some research. All of RSE artists are managed or co-managed by Cameron Carter.” He hunches over the table talking in a hushed whisper. “I doubt any of them are complaining, but Richard won’t have it. Him having to co-managed with someone he can’t control. Not gonna happen.”

  “What are you saying Gabriel?”

  “I’m saying you better figure this out. I think having the additional signares added to the account is a good idea, but it will mean war with Richard.

  “Am I making it worse?” She wanted to hear Gabriel’s thoughts. They’d weathered years of traveling to build a strong relationship.

  “Yes, but sometimes you have to make things worse, to make them better.” He grabbed hands in his. “I want you happy, even if it means I’ll need to find another job.” He tried to smile. But his concern was clear to her by the tight set of his jaw.

  “What type of deal should I request?”

  His eyes hold hers. “I can’t answer that. Richard has always kept that side away from me. Now I wish I would’ve asked more questions or pressed to be included in the negotiations. I could have been of more help to you.”

  “Would you consider being my manager?”

  “Me?” His eyebrows shoot up.

  “Yes, you.”

  “I don’t know if I have the right experience to help dig us out of this hole. La, we have the perks to fulfill, the EP to record and distribute, the building to build, and you have nonstop tour dates.”

  “But you’d try?” She insisted.

  “Yeah, anything for you.”

  “Thank you Gabriel.” Carmela smiled relieved. She didn’t plan to fire anyone but having Gabriel and Nicki would help with this transition.

  “So, you and Jamal are officially an item?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Just be careful La. You don’t want to go from one situation to another.” His face clouds with uneasiness.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m with you. But you have to remember he’s a business man. They sign big acts and I don’t want him getting close to you just to sign. That would be another form of the hell we’re experiencing now.”

  “Jamal’s not like that.”

  “Yeah, well I hope you’re right.”

  Gabriel heads back to sleep. Carmela watches the towns and cities pass trying to make sense of it all. How long could she ride on this emotional roller coaster without falling over the edge?

  Right now, she had to trust her instincts and she’d deal with Richard later. Everybody wants something from her and all she had to give was her music.

  Carmela walked back to her bunk and got her notebook returning to the table. She flipped through the pages. She wanted five new songs for the fan EP. Since meeting Jamal she wrote the chorus and title for one in his honor called Savage.

  She put on her headphones, ready to get loss in the music. She pressed play on the track.

  I do what I wanna

  To get there I’m gonna

  Be a savage, in these streets, you better get like me

  A savage, betta sign my check, or you’ll get what’s next

  I’m a savage…cuz I do what I wanna, to get their I’m gonna

  Be a savage.

  The lyrics flow from her head to the page. Some people had journals, she had books and books of lyrics. Her music was her diary.

  Carmela let the music soothe the doubts and uncertainties. She had to trust her talent and her love for her fans. It had to work out. Because she couldn’t settled for anything less.

  Chapter 21

  Jamal walked through the sliding doors at the hospital. He stopped at the desk asking for John Hughes and the nurse directed him to ICU. He rushed inside the room.

  “Ma?”

  Jamal sat his belonging by the door. Donna was sitting next to the bed bent over. She glanced up and his heart breaks for her.

  “Ja—” His name was crumble into tears. He walked over and pulled Donna to him. She presses her face into his chest. The beeping of the machines fill the room as his front of his suit was soaked in her tears. Jamal held her trembling body tight, reassuring her.

  They stood until she was all cried out. Jamal grabbed a handful of tissues from the rolling stand beside John’s bed. His eyes swept to the bed and he’d never seen John so pale. He was attached to beeping machines, beneath a white blanket. He seemed to have aged by at least ten years in the week since Jamal left.

  “What happened?” Jamal dried her face, guiding her over to the couch.

  “I thought he was having a heart attack.” She whispers staring blankly at John, clinging to the tissues.

  Jamal walked over to the bed, pulling the cover up to John’s shoulders and tucking it tight around his body.

  “John just wasn’t acting like himself. He kept repeating himself and he looked ghostly.” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “He called into work. And John never misses work.” She shakes her head, then takes several deep breaths. “He asked me to go get his ibuprofen. He’d been popping those things like Tic Tacs.” Her voice cracks. “I should have know…I should have know.”

  Donna starts crying again. Jamal had never seen her this way. He sat beside her pulling her close.

  “It will be all right. Let me go talk with the doctors. I need to call Damian and Imani. Want me to call the others?”

  “Please.” She nods.

  “Give me a second.” He kissed her head standing to leave the room.

  “Jamal, thank you for coming.” She looked so fragile and scared. Her normally perfect hair was hidden under a baseball cap. Her shirt and jeans were wrinkled and she didn’t have on any makeup, not even lipstick.

  “Sit tight Ma, I’ll be right back.” She sat next to John’s bed and folded his lifeless hand in hers.

  “Jamal, what if….” Her eyes are glassy, full of unshed tears.

  “He wouldn’t give death the satisfaction.”

  Donna smiled, “You’re right. He’d probably negotiating with God now.”

  “And winning.” Jamal smile. “I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Jamal stepped out of the room. He closed the door taking a few minutes to gather himself. The weight of his feelings for them two rushed him like tidal wave. John would make it. The cost of his self-imposed isolation was time. Jamal needed more time to learn from John. To learn how to love and open his heart to love people unconditionally.

  Jamal couldn’t see God being so cruel as to take John when Jamal finally realized the family he’d always sought he had. Please don’t.

  To take another parent from him. The very thing he’d ran from. The very thing he’d fought to avoid. In all his years, the lose never got easier. People say kids are resilient and kids bounce back. The truth was each setback, each move, each rejection took a toll on his soul. It was like living in a concrete prison and only true love was the key to his freedom. But only if he let them love him.

  He dropped his head suppressing the emotions he’d hate acknowledging. Because wasn’t death just another form of leaving? He glanced up and walked over to the nurse’s station.

  “Excuse me, I’m Jamal, John Hughes’ son. I’d like to see his doctor.” The nurse stared for
a brief moment. He knew what she was thinking. How was this black man, that white man’s son? But he waited. If she had a doubt about his identity, she’d have to ask the question outright.

  “Huh, let me call him.” The nurse picked up the phone and made the call while Jamal speed-dialed Damian.

  “How is he?”

  “I’m waiting on the doctor to come now. Ma is…worried.” He had to choose his words carefully. Jamal saw a man heading in his direction. “I think this is the doctor now. Let me put you on speaker phone.”

  “Mr. Hughes I’m Dr. Michaels.” They shook hands. Jamal didn’t bother with correcting him.

  “I have my brother on the phone. Can you tell us what’s going on with our father?”

  His father. He swallowed hard focusing on the elderly man before him.

  “He seems to have suffered renal failure.”

  “What does that mean?” Damian asked.

  “Dialysis comes with many sides effects. They differ from person to person. But across the board most patients live with chronic pain. Back problems, tendinitis, arthritis. And to cope most patients take over the counter meds. It seems John maxed out on the daily dose.”

  “Like an overdose?” Jamal asked.

  “No, it happens. A patient may take the three or four and become immune to it. Then they slowly up the dosage to make life bearable.”

  “So it wasn’t a heart attack?”

  “Heart attack?” Damian echos.

  “Yeah, that’s what prompted Ma to bring him into the hospital.”

  “Renal failure can cause heart attack like symptoms but his heart is fine. We have to keep an eye on him for a few days and monitor his intake of anti-inflammatories and no more ibuprofen. He’s doing well. He just has to listen to his body. Tylenol is best if he finds himself uncomfortable.” The doctor stops to consult with a nurse regarding another patient. Then he reviews John’s file. “We gave him a dialysis treatment and we’ll do it again over the next few days. He should be cleared to return home by the end of the week.”

  Jamal and Damian listened for a while longer and the doctor left.