Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey

by Hendley, DiDi

  The Brothers King arrived at the Santa Fe Brewing Company around 4:00 p.m. Chuck and Joe walked into the bar looking for the manager. He met them enthusiastically, offering his hand to each “Hello brothers! Don Soza, Glad you’re here! We are expecting a complete sell-out!”

  “We’re glad to be here,” Joe replied with a smile as he shook Don’s hand.

  “Right this way,” Don guided the men to the stage, then showed them to the back door to facilitate their equipment transport. Chuck moved the SUV and trailer up to the door. Joe’s cellphone rang as Don Soza motioned for assistance from his staff. Joe glanced at the phone, “Marty” appeared on the display.

  “Hey, Marty-man. How ya doin’?” Joe happily greeted his former manager.

  “Joe, it’s good to hear your voice!” Marty replied, his voice a bit unsteady.

  “Yeah, good to hear from you. You been feelin’ okay?”

  “Ah, well…I do what I can, Joe. I heard you been gettin’ calls…you guys signed yet?”

  “Yeah, A.Hole’s been calling Chuck pretty regularly. He knows I’m not havin’ any of it…we had it out a couple of days ago,” Joe replied.

  “Well, what’re you planning to do? You’re not thinking about doing it all yourself, are you?”

  “Marty, it’s just not the same without you. When you managed us, we didn’t have the problems we do with him. And honestly, if you were running it now, we would’ve signed those papers a long time ago. Did you see the contract?” Joe rubbed the stubble on his face, then the throbbing muscle in the back of his neck.

  “No, I told him to fax me a copy, but he never got around to it. He told me that I shouldn’t middle-manage. I think he resented me asking for it. But I really was just tryin’ to help both of you out.”

  Chuck stopped to listen as he passed through the doorway for another load. Several staffers appeared with sound and lighting equipment in tow.

  “Yeah...I didn’t think so. You need to see it before you ask me to sign it, Marty. He’s cutting us out of most of our royalties. He’s taking such a hit from our bookings—we may as well not get anything. The guy wants to rob us blind….and he wants me to give him permission to do it! He might get away with that from somebody who’s new, but I’ve been in this too long to put up with shit like that.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Joe. I’d give anything to get back into the game. I just don’t have the strength. Some days are good…some days, not so much.”

  “Well, you can get him off your back and say you tried. He doesn’t want to negotiate; even if he did--I wouldn’t believe a word from his sorry mouth. I’ve got nothin’ else to say to him, Marty. I’m just glad that you didn’t sign over my acting gigs. He’d run me in the ground, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah…you’re still set for South Dakota, right?”

  “You bet. Day after we’re done with the fairs. I’ll be there—count on it. I’m lookin’ forward to sittin’ still for a while, ya know? Hey, man, it was great talkin’ with you, though. Hope you’re feelin’ better soon...really we do. We miss ya. Things flowed when you were at the helm. Besides, I was a much nicer guy in those days,” Joe laughed as he finished his call.

  “So, who was that?” Chuck asked eagerly.

  Shoving his phone into his pocket, Joe responded, “Ah...A.Hole thinks he can get to me through Marty. He really needs to think again.”

  Chuck’s worried expression stayed with him for a while. He forced himself to follow Joe out the door to finish unloading.

  “Joe, really, can’t we come to some kinda terms with him?”

  “I’m not givin’ it all away, Chuck! We work too damned hard for what we’ve accomplished—and it has NOTHING to do with HIM! He doesn’t even care enough about us to pay for this tour like he’s supposed to! He can’t be bothered to get the bus fixed! I can’t believe you’re actually asking me to sell out like this! He thinks SO MUCH of us that he books us in the worst fleabag motels on the planet! And you WANT to be stuck with him for five more years? Hey, if it was a half-way decent deal, I’d give him a year, but there’s no way I’m gonna be stuck with him for five. He hasn’t proven capable or worthy in my book. When Marty got sick, he took advantage of him and his condition. You’ve seen his colors, man, he’s not any different now!”

  “Yeah, well, what ARE we gonna do?” Chuck’s face showed more concern than Joe would have ever given him credit.

  “Figure it out. Just not today. Look, man, I just wanna get this over with.”

  Joe picked up pappy and returned to the bar as he slipped on the strap.

  “Yeah, so you keep sayin,” Chuck mumbled through his clenched jaw and picked up a case of cables before he followed Joe.

  After set-up and sound-check, they drove the mile to their hotel, checked in and cleaned up. Only the necessary was said between them as they went about their pre-show routine. The brothers grabbed dinner and returned to the SFBC just before the show.

  The concert went as usual: the crowd was completely into the music. Joe, being more subdued than normal, was content to move from song to song without much conversation.

  “Damn, Joe. It’s like you’re just goin’ through the motions. You’re not callin’ for any shootouts?” Chuck asked off-mic.

  Joe shook his head indicating he had no intention and moved into the next song.

  For the last song, Joe offered a dedication, “I’d like to sing this one for Libby, wherever she may be.”

  When you’re a breath away,

  We’re all alone,

  My soul knows peace,

  My heart knows home.

  After the concert, the brothers stuck around the bar, mingling with their fans and raising the occasional glass. For the past couple days, Joe had avoided alcohol. Today, his regrets were more than he could bear, and he ordered a shot and a beer the first chance he got. Throwing back the shot, Joe closed his eyes. The heat of the whiskey felt like a long-lost friend. The image of Libby standing in the parking lot flashed in his mind. He shook it off and walked away from the bar with his beer.

  The bar had closed and few staffers were left. Joe sat with Don Soza at a table and tried to get into the conversation they were having with Chuck.

  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his mind on the conversation. Several times he caught people looking at him expectantly. The first few, he asked what he missed. Eventually, they all just gave up. The auburn-haired woman had shown Joe a mirror to his soul, and she wouldn’t leave his mind. Around 3:30 a.m., Joe called out, “Let’s hit it, bro,” and the brothers again drove to their hotel.

  “You sure were Mr. Personality tonight,” Chuck quipped. “You went through the motions, but if I were in the audience I’d have called you a prick.”

  “Well, I didn’t see you stepping up either. But then again, you never do,” Joe responded in a flat tone. Neither brother spoke after that.

  * * *

  The alarm rang at 5:30 a.m. Normally Joe took the lead because Chuck was involved with company or hung over. This morning in particular Joe was slow to move. When Chuck didn’t hear Joe stirring around the room, he forced himself to get up for the first shower.

  “Come-on, hurry up Joe—we have to be in Pueblo for the radio promo at noon. We don’t need to get there at the last minute.”

  It was usually Joe who pushed.

  They were in the SUV by 6:15 a.m. for the trip to Pueblo and the next fair gig. After stopping for a quick gas-up and breakfast to-go, Joe stretched out on the back seat while Chuck loaded CDs, then pulled onto the highway.

  South Fork/Walsenburg, Colorado, Day 8 - Tuesday

  Around 7:30 a.m. the RV park came to life. Libby tried to ignore the sounds, turning over in her bed.

  “I need to talk to you,” Joe’s words popped into her head, causing Libby’s eyes to spring open. She scrambled out of bed and made her
necessary connections for a quick shower. She grabbed a breakfast burrito from the freezer and tossed it into the microwave as she made a pot of coffee.

  “Man, I’ve been hitting this pot way too much lately! Well, at least it’s hot, and I’m gonna need the caffeine today,” as she rubbed her weary eyes.

  After disconnecting the hookups, Libby again sat behind the wheel. Less than four hours to the fairgrounds—she’d be there around lunchtime. She was looking forward to seeing Joe. Libby smiled at the thought. “I sure hope he’s not angry about Lubbock. Maybe it’s about the pictures...nah. Oh, I hope it’s not just about the pics.”

  * * *

  Hours later, the Walsenburg city traffic was picking up. Glancing at her clock, Libby muttered, “Just over an hour to go. I can’t wait to get out from behind this wheel for a while!” At a stoplight, she picked up the TBK itinerary from the console to find the sponsoring station. She turned on the radio to KSPK 102.3 to listen for details of the show.

  With just miles to go for Interstate 25, Libby approached the intersection of Main and 6th Streets in downtown Walsenburg, Colorado. Traffic through the town moved very slowly. Libby spotted an SUV pulling a trailer with a flashing left turn signal heading toward her. “I wonder...nah, not possible” she muttered to herself. “Lord, when did I start talking to myself?” Libby laughed.

  As the break in traffic ahead of her afforded the opportunity, Libby allowed the SUV to turn in front of her RV. As he began the turn, she recognized Chuck behind the wheel, but she didn’t see Joe in the vehicle.

  Just as Libby turned her right signal on to follow Chuck, a speeding car with two police vehicles in pursuit barreled into the intersection from her right. Brakes locked and in a split second the car hit the SUV head-on, causing complete chaos. Libby screamed as she watched in horror. She pulled the RV over to the curb of the right-turn lane and ran over to open the front passenger’s door of the SUV.

  “Is everyone okay?” she asked frantically. Seeing the gorge of blood on Chuck’s face, she yelled, “Call an ambulance!” She reached for the back door handle, and Joe fell forward as he lost his footing. Catching him, she stumbled backward before catching herself, too. Steadying him as best she could, she walked him to the curb and sat him down. She returned as others tried to assist Chuck. It appeared his nose was broken…blood was everywhere. Libby watched from the passenger’s door as a man reached for Chuck’s left hand in an effort to assist him, Chuck let out a yell at the touch.

  As others tried to stabilize Chuck, she returned to Joe. “Are you alright?”

  He seemed dazed. Joe asked, “What happened?”

  “You were hit head-on,” she replied, stroking the hair from his face.

  Joe looked at the SUV and the mayhem surrounding it. “Oh, hell! Is Chuck okay?” Joe rose, then sat back down and shook his head.

  “Don’t stand, Joe...just sit for a few minutes and get your head straight,” Libby insisted.

  Several more police cars arrived, and the officers began rerouting traffic.

  Joe turned his attention to Libby. “Libby? How...what...where’d you come from?”

  She couldn’t help but smile at him...he looked so helpless and confused. “Well, I was on my way to meet you in Pueblo—and you just...exploded…in my path. You really have a way of getting my attention!” she smiled.

  The ambulance arrived, and the medics began working on Chuck, placing a collar around his neck and checking vitals.

  “Is Chuck alright?” Joe asked.

  “Looks like his nose may be broken, but let me go see. Stay here!” She returned to the SUV. “How’s he doing?”

  One of the medics glanced up at her, “Are you with him?”

  “Well, his brother, Joe, was also in the vehicle. He’s over here on the curb. Joe wanted to know if Chuck’s alright.”

  Chuck waved his hand at Libby, signaling he was okay, but was unable to speak behind the bloody wad of gauze he held under his nose.

  The medic glanced past her as he readied Chuck for the move out of the vehicle. He watched Chuck closely as they helped him onto the gurney. “Well, so far I think he’s okay, but with a broken nose for sure. He’ll need X-rays to be sure. Looks like his hand may have been between his face and the airbag though. I don’t think he’s going to be playing guitar anytime soon.” He looked at Libby with obvious awareness of who Chuck was. “Shame, too. I have tickets for tonight.” He looked at his partner, “You got this? I’ll go check him out.” The partner nodded.

  The medic picked up his bag and ran over to the curb. Leaning beside Joe, he began to get his vitals and asked questions to determine potential injuries. Libby joined him and sat beside Joe.

  “I think your brother’s going to be okay, but we’ll be taking him to the hospital. Did either of you experience any blackout?”

  “No,” Joe replied, “Well, I didn’t.”

  “Where are you taking Chuck?” asked Libby.

  “St. Mary’s in Pueblo is the closest—it’s about 45 minutes from here.”

  Joe stood, swaying. Libby quickly followed, reaching for his arm.

  “I was asleep in the back seat. I don’t know what happened. I need to see Chuck.”

  She nodded and walked with him to the ambulance her arm wrapped around his waist. “Ma’am, were you in the vehicle as well?”

  “Oh, no. I’m in the RV.”

  The medic nodded and turned his attention to the man from the other vehicle, who was now in handcuffs. A wrecker pulled up behind the police vehicle, and the driver stepped out and greeted the officer.

  “What’s up, man?” Joe asked Chuck.

  Chuck glanced at Joe with a wad of gauze under his nose and said, “Man, he just plowed into me. I don’t even know where he came from! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can...okay?”

  Chuck waved his mangled hand in the air, “Don’t think I’ll be playing.”

  Joe smiled, “No worries: I’ll take care of it.”

  As they loaded the other driver into the ambulance, Joe turned to Libby. “I still don’t get it-where’d you come from?”

  She smiled, “I’ll tell you later.”

  Joe exhaled and smiled. “Girl! It sure is good to see you,” and he put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. She put her arm around his waist, and they returned to the corner.

  “Joe, your SUV’s totaled,” Libby said. Joe turned to observe the damage as the tow-truck driver was pulling the other vehicle out of the SUV’s front end.

  “Ah, no! The guitars! Are they okay? I’ll need to rent a car, quick.”

  “No worries!” Libby exclaimed. She flashed a key on her keychain, “I’ve got plenty of room as she nodded toward the RV.

  Joe laughed, “Oh, yeah? Not for long! You’re sure?”

  Nodding, she directed him toward the storage boxes on the outside. “What doesn’t fit in those, we’ll just put in the RV, and we’ll figure it out later. Just leave a path,” she smiled.

  Joe rubbed his arm as he walked over to the policeman to discuss the situation. As Libby began to unload their vehicle, two policemen joined her to move the contents of the SUV and trailer. The SUV had pushed the trailer at least an inch back from the wheels underneath it. As a result, it was tilted backward. Several onlookers stepped up to assist. Libby picked up a fast food bag from the floorboard to gather the CDs, GPS, and the glove box and console contents. As soon as they finished, the tow-truck was in place to load the SUV and trailer. Joe talked with the tow driver, exchanging contact information. He trotted with a limp to the SUV to be sure everything was cleared out. Finding nothing, he checked the trailer and walked over to Libby at the RV.

  Joe looked at his watch, then at Libby, “I’m gonna have to call into the radio station. Libby can we go see about Chuck?”

  Lib
by and Joe stepped inside the RV and around the suitcases and guitars. Joe put his hand on Libby’s shoulder. She turned to face him, and he planted a passionate kiss on her lips.

  “I thought I’d lost you, again,” he said breathlessly.

  She blushed, “What do you mean?” Her head was spinning.

  He pulled her closer to him, hugging her tightly. “I looked for you back in Albuquerque.”

  “You didn’t get my note?” she pushed away from him to look into his eyes, but held onto his waist.

  “Apparently not,” he smiled. “Guess we should move.”

  They both began to make their way around boxes of clothes and equipment to the cab of the RV. Smiling, Libby sat behind the wheel as Joe took the passenger’s seat. She started pressing buttons on the GPS for St. Mary’s.

  Joe pulled out his phone. “Rick, hey man, I hate to bother you, but we had a wreck. Chuck’s at the hospital...no, I think he’s fine, I’m on my way now. He broke his nose for sure, and his left hand’s…mangled. Can you make it to Pueblo for the gig tonight at 8 o’clock.” After a long pause, Joe said, “Thanks, man...I owe you another. We’re at the fairgrounds. Okay...I’ll stall if I need to. I’m booking a flight from Nashville, and I’ll text you the details. See you then.” Turning back to Libby, he added, “Our younger brother.”

  She nodded, checked traffic and pulled out as Joe used his phone to lookup flight information.

  “He’s gonna be cuttin’ it close: flight leaves Nashville at noon and gets in at 7:50.” Joe purchased the ticket, then sent the information to Rick.

  Joe’s next call was to the radio station.

  “Hey, Darrell…Joe King. Sorry that we didn’t make it for your show. Yeah…well, we had a little accident just up the road…yeah, that was us. Some guy ran head-on into our SUV. Chuck’s in the hospital right now. Nah…I think he’s gonna be okay—I’m on my way there now. Hey, listen, soon as I check in with him, I can give you a call back. We can do a phone interview, if that’s okay? Great…hey, thanks, man. Talk to you later.” Joe hung up the call.

  As they were driving down the interstate, Joe turned, looking back into the RV. “Wow, we sure made a mess in here...sorry about that.”