Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel)

by Brynn O'Connor

  “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?”

  “I’d ask what you’ve been smoking, and can I have some?”

  “I’m serious Silas! It’s all set up, everything.”

  “What do you mean, everything?”

  “A show. At The Fillmore, Saturday night at eight o’clock. That’s tomorrow night.”

  “Yeah I know what day it is, but I kinda like it here.”

  “After the show come back.”

  “Sorry, but I just don’t—”

  “Brand will be there.” He visibly blanches at the mention of Brand’s name. Time to capitalize on it. “He’s the one who you should be angry at. He’s the—”

  “Don’t tell me who I should be mad at and who I shouldn’t be mad at, because you’re pretty much right at the top of the list. So if you don’t have anything more to say, I suggest you leave now. Visitation day is over for you, June Cho. Have a fucked-up life!”

  He turns and starts to walk off. Without even thinking I launch myself at him.

  “Wait! There’s more. He made me do it.”

  “What do you mean made you?”

  “I was his girlfriend, Silas, and then he got in this accident and was dying...I just wanted to help him experience his lifelong dream of being in Guitar Player and getting a permanent job with the magazine, like his idol Hector Oh did. And he knows something about me...it’ll ruin my career if he uses it.”

  “What does he have on you?”

  “I have a marijuana conviction that was buried years ago. My father used to have a few friends in high places, and he got my legal troubles buried for me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have received my paramedic’s license. And now when he finds out what is going to happen at The Fillmore show, he’ll use that knowledge to ruin me.

  I’ll lose my license and the only reason I get out of bed in the morning. I was in a car accident when I was seventeen and an off-duty paramedic saved my life. But he couldn’t save my little sister who died in the seat next to me. If only I knew one little maneuver, I could have saved her myself. Instead I sat there and watched her choke to death.”

  “I’m sorry for your sister June, but you can’t blame yourself. How long ago was the accident?”

  “Ten years ago last October.”

  “Do you know who that paramedic was, the off-duty one that saved your life?”

  “No. I’ve wanted to track him down and ask about the accident. If I could just ask him if there really was nothing I could do. I need to know from him that everything was done to try to save her. I need to know it’s not my fault she’s dead...” I can’t go on. I’m crying inconsolably and I’m sure people are starting to look.

  “Where’d this happen June?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Just tell me where.”

  “Oakland, it happened in Oakland. Why do you want to know?”

  “It was on International Blvd. wasn’t it? Headed towards Berkeley?” All four lanes were blocked off for hours...it was pouring rain.”

  “Wait a second—”

  “She was beyond saving June, she—”

  “You weren’t there Silas. You didn’t see her next to me, you—”

  He looks right into my eyes this time and replies, “It was my uncle. He was there, and so was I. I sat there in the passenger seat, and I could hear the screams through my closed window. My uncle Stewart was a paramedic for about ten years before quitting. I swear to god June, I sat there and watched while my Uncle Stewart tried to save your sister, and while he saved your life. I remember when he finally got back in the car. He had blood all over his hands and arms and shirt. He wouldn’t talk to me, he wouldn’t look at me, and all he said was, ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ It was the only thing he said the whole hour drive home. I’ll never forget that night either June, and I understand why you can’t.”

  All this time, I’ve been searching for answers, searching for the man who saved my life and put me on this path I’m on now. He’s the reason I became a paramedic and I actually know him?

  “You okay?” Silas asks. I feel his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. He just holds me, rocks me, and coos in my ear, “It’s gonna be okay June, it’s gonna be okay.”

  I don’t know how long we sit there on the grass, but after what seems like hours I become aware of a bell sounding and people walking past. I wipe my face on Silas’s shirt and venture a look up. People are making their way back to the recreation room. I look up at Silas. His face is glistening and I’m not sure if it’s my tears of his own.

  “It’s lunch time, little sister. We’d better show up before I’m missed. Do you think you can handle the crowd?”

  “How bad do I look?”

  He looks into my eyes for a moment. “There’s an outdoor washroom where you can get cleaned up in. Splash some cold water on your face and you’ll be fine.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Silas. I know I look wrecked.”

  “You’ll fit right in then. Visitation days are always emotional for residents and their families. Don’t sweat it.”

  Lunch is not as bad as I thought it would be. Silas was right. Everybody looks a little ragged around the edges and I can tell I’m not the only one who has shed a tear recently. Some groups of people are talking animatedly while others stare in stony silence. When we’re finished, we decide to go for a walk so we can finalize our plans. Fortunately, our story about our relationship and my being here doesn’t get tested. Some people greet Silas as they pass by, but most sense our need for privacy so no one stays to chat. As we’re heading back outside, I suddenly remember the package I have yet to deliver.

  “Hey, who is in room 111?”

  He looks at me startled for a moment. “That would be me. Why’d you ask?”

  “I want the truth. I want you to look me right in the eyes and tell me you’re not using drugs in here!”

  After a moment he replies. “I was. I got busted and just yesterday got all my privileges back. If I get caught again it’s straight to jail. June, where are you going with this?”

  “Do you smoke?”

  “What, cigarettes or pot?”

  “Either? Both?”

  “Well pot of course, but just plain smokes? Nah, never saw the point in it.”

  “Then why did some guy ambush me outside the clinic with a pack of smokes that had to be delivered to the guy in room 111?”

  “Dammit! That dude never gives up. Lemme see the package.”

  “What, here? Out in the open?”

  “It’s just a pack of smokes right?”

  “I dunno, you tell me.”

  “Gimme the pack.”

  I look around first. No one is paying us the slightest amount of attention so I pull out the package out of my purse and put it in his outstretched hand. He takes it, examines it closely, then tears open the top. Inside are a dozen baggies of some brownish powder.

  “I told that guy I decided to really get clean this time, but I guess he didn’t get the message. So he’s gonna break us out then? In exchange for delivering the package?”

  “Yeah, that’s what he claims. Don’t you have to pay him or something?”

  “Yeah, that’s gonna be a problem. My cash stash was found and taken prior to my being sent down to detox. I got nothing to pay the dude.”

  “I can help with that. But wait a second, why are we even gonna pay him? You don’t want the stuff, why not just give it back?”

  “Sorry sis,
it don’t work that way. You took delivery of the package so that means I pay whether I want the stuff or not.”

  “Well it can’t be that much can it? I mean, it’s a pretty small package.”

  “Yeah well, good things come in small packages. This one’s gonna cost you a grand.”

  “What the hell? I don’t have that much! What happens if we don’t pay up today?”

  “Oh, he may just tip off the cops with an anonymous call. Or he might get creative. You still got that new Prius? It may not be yours much longer. My guess is he swipes your car and makes a call to the police and Forbes about the drugs.”

  “Oh my god, I am so stupid. I just wanted to get you out and I didn’t have a plan when he offered. He seemed nice enough at the time. What can we do Silas?”

  “We get creative. I’ll have to convince him to take it back. Either that or we figure out how to stretch one hundred eighty something to fifteen hundred. You know, kind of a loaves and fishes kind of a thing?”

  “Will that work? Can we actually pull that off?”

  “No, it won’t. I’ll make him think I’m paying him for the dope, then we take off before he figures out he’s been had. So, we need to find a bunch of newspapers, rubber bands, and a large manila envelope.

  Forty minutes later and we have padded my stack of one hundred eighty to the tune of one thousand five hundred. Silas divides the money into three even stacks of $500 each. Then he takes a roll of plastic wrap like the kind most kitchens use and proceeds to wrap each bundle as tightly as he can.

  Each one must have twenty layers of tightly wound plastic. The dealer guy will be able to see the money but not count it. Hopefully between him trusting Silas and the need for speed he won’t double check the money until we’re safely gone. When he’s finished gift wrapping, he puts the bundles in the manila envelope, seals it shut, folds it over twice, then puts a half dozen rubber bands both horizontally and vertically around the package.

  “Well that should do it,” he says, examining our work.

  “You think this is going to work?”

  “Not for very long, but long enough for our purposes I think.”

  “You okay Silas? You’re not looking so hot right now.”