A Song of Forgiveness

by Lillian I Wolfe

  “Knife wound. But it looks pretty shallow. You’re going to need stitches. You can ride back with us to the hospital, so you can be with your friend there.” She flicked her head toward Digby. “Just stay here for now while I go help my partner.”

  Leaving me, she went back to Digby and the two techs got him up and lying down on the gurney they’d brought in. She smiled a little as Dig probably cracked a joke, then tucked the blanket around him. Together, the techs lifted the board and carried him off the stage before setting it down on the floor where they could wheel it out easily to the ambulance.

  Ferris watched for a few moments before wandering over to me and gazing at my damage. “You look worse for the wear.”

  “So does my wardrobe. You sure you’re okay? No headache or anything?”

  ‘Nothing bad,” he answered. He offered his arm. “Here, I’ll walk you out unless you think you can’t stay on your feet.”

  I managed a wry smile, then grasped his arm, and let him help me to my feet. I felt pretty stable as the blood loss hadn’t been that bad and if there was shock, it wasn’t taking me down. The cuts stung a bit, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

  Outside, the police had arrived and were keeping onlookers away from the ambulance. Another one had pulled in next to it and the techs there were administering aid to another four or five people who’d gotten injured in the brawl.

  “What happened?” I asked as we came out the door and I saw this.

  “Apparently, a couple more of the mouthy guys started toward the stage and a few guys from the audience decided to stop them. Turned into a fray in the aisle and people had to clear the area fast.”

  The woman tech shot an irritated glance at me as I walked up to the ambulance. “You couldn’t wait, huh?”

  “My fault,” Ferris said. “I walked her out.”

  They helped me into the ambulance and I sat on the side bench next to Digby’s head. They’d added an oxygen feed and hooked him up to a monitor for blood pressure.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  “Kinda woozy,” he mumbled. “Did we get ‘em all?”

  “Yeah, we did.” I caught his hand as my lips curled into what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

  He managed a thumbs up, then closed his eyes.

  “He’s doing good,” the other tech said. “Just need to check him over at the hospital and stitch him up. We’re going now, so hold on.”

  With that, they closed the back door and the ambulance pulled away from the hall. I’d glimpsed Ferris waving and turning to a police officer as the door shut.

  Oh, great, there was sure to be a police report to fill out and questions to answer on this. I sighed. Another encounter with the authorities. What had happened to my nice, quiet, never-in-trouble life?

  My visit to the ER didn’t take long, just a few stitches in my arm and shoulder and bandages, and I was done. They did check to make sure I didn’t have any other injuries other than a few bruises. They scraped a little of the flesh from under my fingernails for evidence since I’d pretty well stabbed the one jerk with them.

  As I came out of the room, I spotted Ferris sitting in the waiting area, a pair of Reno police officers with him. A small bandage covered the cut above his left eye and he sported a splint on the middle finger of his right hand. He saw me and got to his feet, coming over to guide me to the seating area. Then he introduced the officers, who said they had a few questions for their report.

  I answered the basic questions, then gave my account of what had happened at the concert. “So, the one man—Jaime Diaz, vaulted onto the stage with a knife and came after you, is that correct?”

  “Well, I didn’t know his name, but yes, that’s what happened.”

  He continued to go over the story as I tried to focus and recall the events as they happened.

  When I’d finished, they handed it to me to read through and sign.

  “If you think of anything else, or if you think you might have gotten something in the wrong sequence, you can contact us and we can correct it. Got that?” He offered his card as he talked.

  “Yes,” I said, taking it.

  “We’ll talk to your friend later when he’s settled in,” he said. “Thank you and we’ll discuss pressing charges later.”

  The two officers left us and I turned to Ferris, “Pressing charges?”

  “Assault,” he replied. “They attacked us and we can press charges or not. Either way, the foursome is spending the night in jail. You okay?”

  “Yeah, pretty minor stuff. Have they said anything about Digby?”

  “Not yet, but I gather they plan to keep him overnight.” His eyes shifted to look behind me. “Stephen’s here.”

  I turned to see Digby’s partner coming into the emergency area, a worried look on his face. Rising, I went to him, holding out my hands.

  He looked at me like I was a lifeline and came to grab my hands, “Is he—?”

  “He’ll be fine, I’m sure,” I said before he went any further. “It’s a stab wound, but he was stable when we arrived.”

  Stephen looked me over then and glanced at Ferris, who waved a hand at him. “What the hell happened?”

  Still holding one of his hands, I led him over to the chair while telling him how our concert had turned into a fight.

  “My, God!” He had a tendency to get excited over things and this was beyond the norm for him. “I never would have expected anything like this. Thank goodness, you aren’t seriously injured. And Dig got hurt trying to save you?”

  He didn’t say the, my hero, as he asked, but I was pretty sure he was thinking it.

  About this time, the hospital staff caught up with me and wanted insurance information and all that stuff. By the time I’d finished that, a weary-looking doctor came out to see us and I ducked my head.

  Shit! Mark! He was in his residency and he would be on call tonight. We’d dated for a while and broken up a few months earlier.

  “Gillian? Ferris? I should have connected that fellow in there with you, but I didn’t.” He offered his hand to Ferris, then turned to me and hesitated a moment, before giving me a gentle hug.

  He turned to Stephen. “He’s going to be fine. It’s a deep wound so we’re going to check him in and keep an eye on him overnight to make sure we’ve taken care of all the damage. We’re moving him to a room now and if you check with admittance, they’ll let you know where he is and when you can see him.”

  Mark turned back to me, “Good to see you again, although you look a little bedraggled.”

  “You know me, always in the middle of it.”

  His eyes grew a little tender like the Mark I’d fallen for after my accident, then he said, “Take care of yourself.” And he walked away.

  “What are the odds?” I mumbled, turning to Ferris.

  “With you, pretty good,” he answered.

  I caught Stephen’s arm with my left and Ferris with my right and walked Digby’s partner toward the admissions desk.

  We sat in the waiting area across from the desk as Stephen provided all the needed information on Digby. He and the Aussie hunk had been a couple for about three years now, so he had pretty much all the history admissions needed to know. He nodded a few times as they talked, pulled out his wallet, and handed over a credit card. All taken care of, it seemed.

  Once Stephen got the room number, we all went up to that floor to wait until we could see Dig. In that time, we filled Stephen in on everything that had led up to the event since it seemed Digby hadn’t said a word to him about my non-band activities and the subsequent reveal by Gayle Trumbull that had led to a small band of hecklers.

  If nothing else, talking to him about it reinforced my feelings that this whole thing tonight was my fault. If it hadn’t exploded like it did, we wouldn’t have ended up in the middle of a brawl that got all of us hurt. And if my friends hadn’t been so loyal, it could have been me alone taking on the two dudes who made it to the stage. Maybe I could h
ave handled them, but maybe not. I hadn’t been keeping up with my martial arts training as much as I had when I shifted to trying to learn to fight demons with powers that didn’t have much of an effect on humans.

  Or did it? I hadn’t really tried a light blast against a human and even though it didn’t have as much power on this plane as it did on the ethereal one, it still managed to blow up a boulder. The real question might be could I use it against a person? It was powerful when it worked, but it could also kill and I didn’t want to do that in a brawl.

  Getting back to Digby, he could have been killed. That knife could have gone a few inches over penetrating his heart and he’d be dead. That scared me. A nurse stepped out and told Stephen he could go in now, but asked Ferris and me to wait a few more minutes.

  “I think we’re through playing any public gigs,” I said in a low voice. “Maybe not even private ones for a while.”

  Ferris sat his hands clasped together, lower arms between his legs, and gazed at the hallway. “This crap will probably blow over in a few months, but yeah, we’re done for now, babe. Any of us could have been seriously hurt tonight and we’re lucky it wasn’t worse than a bad knife wound he got.”

  He paused, swallowing hard and his voice sounded a little stained as he added, “I tried to get there quicker. Couldn’t get out of the set fast enough to help Dig or you. Really scared me.”

  I shifted my gaze to him and saw his dejected look. “Don’t go blaming yourself, honey. You did the best you could and you did get there in time to prevent it from being worse. You’re not unscathed either. I’m just glad the other two didn’t make it to the stage.”

  “You know it. That could have turned into a disaster before security could reach us.”

  “Thanks, Ferry. I don’t know what might have happened without you and Dig.”

  He shifted his gaze to me. “I told you I’d always have your back, babe. I meant it and I still do. Christ, Gillian, I love you. Always have.”

  His eyes looked a little teary or maybe it was just the way it seemed through my tears. “I love you, too. Really. Stupid things I say aside, I guess I’m just afraid to admit it.”

  He pulled me into his arms and my head dropped onto his shoulder. For now, I was content to just be held.

  “What are you afraid of?” Ferris whispered.

  “Losing,” I said after a moment.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Just that.” I couldn’t explain it all now and didn’t want to try.

  We sat quietly for a few more minutes until the nurse told us we could go in to see Digby.

  Propped up in the raised bed at a slight angle, he looked drowsy, but his skin color looked almost normal as he talked quietly with Stephen.

  “Hey, superhero,” I said as I strolled up beside him across from his partner. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not feeling a thing,” he answered. “Good drugs. You guys both okay?”

  “We’re mobile,” Ferris said as he walked up next to me. “You took the brunt of it, dude. Scared the heck out of me.”

  I nodded. “What he said.”

  “Yea. Wasn’t supposed to go like that. Sorry, mates.”

  “It’s done,” Ferris said. “We’re not gonna keep you from resting, man. We’re going to go back to the hall and pack up the instruments, see what’s damaged. It was a helluva party tonight.” He flashed a quick grin.

  I squeezed his hand. “See you later.”

  Ferris slid his arm around my good shoulder and we headed back down to the hospital entrance where he flagged a cab.

  Back at the hall, we had to practically beg security to let us in to pack up our instruments, but under the watchful eye of the cop-wannabe, we rounded up the various pieces of equipment that had scattered in the fray.

  My keyboard looked like it had survived in one piece with no missing keys, but I wouldn’t know for sure until I plugged it in. The stand, on the other hand, was a twisted mess. I’d need a new one before it ever went mobile again.

  Ferris picked up cymbals and packed them in their cases, then checked out his drums as I began placing Digby’s guitar and mandolin in their cases. As Ferris started hauling equipment out to his van, I searched the stage for my purse and music case. I found the former behind the curtains at the back where it had been kicked at some point and the other had fallen off the stage and was on the floor, sheets of music scattered around it.

  Sighing, I climbed down and began rounding up the pages, getting them back into the case and I spotted a song I’d written for a friend years earlier. We’d put it on the album, but I rarely sang it in live shows. Called “I’m Always at Your Side”, it seemed apropos tonight. A sad smile slipped onto my lips.

  As we left, I felt like this truly was the end of Spicy Jam. I didn’t see us getting another booking in town after this fiasco.

  “You okay?” Ferris asked as he walked me to my Jeep.

  “I will be. Call me tomorrow?”

  He nodded, waited until I was seated, then closed the door and headed for his van. I felt like a puddle of muddled emotions as I backed out and headed home. All I wanted now was my cozy bed, my cat, and a good explanation for Cate when she called.

  SEVENTEEN

  “You made the news,” Cate said as soon as I picked up my phone.

  “Again,” I answered. Still in bed, I rolled over to peer out the window, hoping the day looked as miserable as I felt. I ached all over and my shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat.

  “So, what happened?”

  I took a deep breath and told her all the gory details.

  “Oh. My. God.” Her voice had gone up a decibel as she spoke. “I don’t know what to do here, Gillian. So far, I’ve had two cancellations.”

  “We only had two more bookings,” I pointed out drily, “so we’re done. And probably no more to come any time soon. I think the band is out of business. At any rate, Digby won’t be able to play for a couple of weeks.”

  “How bad was it?”

  “Thanks for asking, Cate. He’ll be okay, but it was too close for comfort. Ferris and I will both be fine also, just a few cuts and bruises for us.”

  “Well, shit.” Her end of the conversation went quiet.

  “Yeah, a lot of that,” I agreed. “I have no idea what I’ll do now. It’s been tough the last couple of months without the extra income and now it looks like there won’t be any at all.”

  “There’s the funeral—”

  “No! I can’t do them right now.”

  “I know you say that, but why not? If you’re not playing, then your hecklers won’t matter.”

  “I can’t explain why, but trust me when I say they aren’t safe for me to do right now. Probably nobody wants me for a wedding or birthdays either. Got any other ideas?

  “Let me think on it. I’ll call you later if I come up with something.”

  “Great. Thanks.” I did appreciate her efforts and I knew she’d try to find something I could do. I couldn’t pick up many more grooming jobs than I already did, although I could work on Friday’s now.

  Sighing, I dropped back against the pillows and scratched Nygard’s head waiting for his soothing purr. That was the point at which it all hit me and I broke into tears. My life was falling apart and I couldn’t seem to do a damn thing about it. Nygard snuggled closer, but even that didn’t help the despair I felt. Music had been my life since I was in my early teens and I always thought it would be my career. Now, I couldn’t even get a job singing at a wedding. Thanks for nothing, Gayle Trumbull.

  After another ten minutes of self-pity, I had a headache to go along with the shoulder and arm throbbing. I dragged myself to the bathroom and pulled out the recommended household painkiller and took a couple of the pills. I stared at my image in the mirror, seeing now what added damage I had in bruises. I had a black eye forming under my right eye and another blackish one about the size of someone’s fist on my left jaw. Shit! I didn’t even feel them at the time.

 
; My cell rang again and I glanced at it for the caller. Janna. Yeah, I could talk to her.

  “Are you all right?” she asked with a frantic tinge to her voice.

  “Yes, just a little banged up,” I said in as calm a tone as I could manage.

  “I saw the news video this morning. It looked like a real knock down.”

  “There’s a video?” A real sense of trepidation hit me. Someone recorded it? Then, of course, someone did. Everyone carried phones with recorders in them these days. There were likely numerous videos. Just hunky-dory.

  “Yeah, one that was shown on the news and a few more on the internet. Plus photos. Someone tweeted a few of them. Jeez, Gilly, you need to take a look at them and maybe try to get them taken down.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, they’re a little revealing...”

  “Oh, damn. Yeah, I’ll see if I can do anything about it, but it’s like shoving the genie back in the bottle.”

  “I hear you. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, I’m all right... No, I take that back. If you could bring a pizza over later, I would love that. I absolutely am not leaving the house today and I am not cooking. My body just wants to lie around.”

  “You got it. Are Ferris and Digby okay?”

  “Like me, banged up and cut up a bit. Actually, I need to check on Dig. He spent the night in the hospital and is probably still there.” I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. Ten-forty-three... Yeah, likely that he was. “I’ll see you later today, okay? Say about three?”

  She agreed and as soon as she hung up, I called Digby’s cell phone, hoping it was still with him. It rang about three times and I began to think he didn’t have it when someone answered. It took me a moment to recognize Stephen’s voice.

  “This is Gillian. How’s Digby doing?”

  “He’s hanging in there. He’s out for some x-rays right now. We think he broke his left little finger and they didn’t catch it last night. Probably just a crack but that baby was swollen this morning.”

  I winced at the thought. “Ouch. Do you think he’ll be released today?”

  “We hope so. If that’s a simple break, then I think there’s a good chance. How are you doing?”