AFTERLIFE- chapter 4

AFTERLIFE

Chapter 4

4

England, September 2009

“Michael? Did you just hear a word I said?”

Crap!

He hated when he was busted. Even if it was only by Karen who was more than used to being tuned out by him.  

He turned towards her, grateful for the ability to hide behind his shades. The headache was picking up again.  And the shindig hadn’t even started yet. For him anyway. The very thought of people and noise caused him break out in a sweat. Great! He had known this whole idea of being more ‘social’ was stupid.  But Phillips had send him like twenty emails just yesterday and had threatened to pop by for the obligatory chiding...ah...pep-talk.  And he’d walk through fire to avoid those ‘happy’ occasions. The last time he was talked at while he stared blindly by the waste of space still caused him to want to throw up. Good thing Joe had taught him well to dissociate when needed. Go absolutely still and retreat into some little point inside where he was mostly sheltered from the venom. It was way harder to hide from abuse by email:

You need to show your face.  You need to make sure people know this will happen this time. No more stunts.  Ideally, you pretend you’re awake and have a good time.  I think you rested enough.

Stupid motherfucker! Rested?  Almost being carted off to the morgue was slightly different from a retreat in some spa.  Plus, an eternity was not enough to rest up from the constant pressure building like a atomic reactor again.  Like he needed the stupid electronic reminders to know what his obligations were. From age five on he had lived up to his obligations. He didn’t need some fat, intrusive, white upstart to tell him how to do what he was born to accomplish. When there was no one alive who could have overcome half the shit he had to deal with all his life!

Michael hated he could not simply crumble up emails and tear them into a million pieces.  Hitting the delete button was simply not nearly as satisfying. And if he printed each of the asshole’s messages out he’d be killing forests of trees- and that scum was just not worth it.

Okay- maybe attending to whatever Karen was jabbering on about was indeed preferable to thinking about the man who acted as if he had bought him at some slave auction. Once again, Michael felt the pressure of the invisible noose around his neck tightening. 

“Of course I was listening. Don’t I always?”  

Karen made that face that always got him to crack up. 

“Usually to the voices in your head.”

Well, if they were more entertaining than present company, what was wrong with that?

“So- what do you think I wasn’t listening to,Turkle?”  He shot a killer smile at Karen and she blushed lightly.  Ha! The old weapons still worked. 

“Nice one, Jackson. If I tell you then you don’t have to admit you were tuning me out.”

“No, really. I heard you say how wonderful the property is. Let’s go check it out. ” He reached for her hand and pulled her along. Might as well inspect the grounds some more.   The gardens did look amazing. And much more tantalizing than the crowd of people he spied under a tent toward the back of the main house. 

“That was like ten minutes ago.”  Making a face, she still followed him along. Or started to, anyway.

“There you are finally!- Karen- I sent you over to get him to make sure he actually gets here semi on time. Mike, looking good. Your outfit, that is. The rest of -you gives a great imitation of someone awaiting dental surgery.”

Frank had sauntered over and handed Michael a can of something. As always, his old friend was not fooled by his pokerface. Or maybe the pokerface was slipping more and more as the spirit lost its elasticity. 

“We can’t all be suave like you, Frank. - What’s that?” Suspiciously he eyed the colorful can with the fizzy, poppy name. 

“Ignore whatever it says on the outside. You’ll like the content.”

Smelling, Michael detected the wonderful aroma of dry, red wine as he carefully brought the can closer to his face. Relief! For a second he feared Frank would pay him back for the millions of practical jokes he used to play on him.  In another lifetime.  Before his joy had been assassinated. Nope, no joke- just wine.

Yes! It was so great to have someone on his team who knew everything about him. And who at least pretended to care.

No, stop it. You know Frank cares.  He’s an odd fox, but he does care. 

Michael took a sip and enjoyed the dance of the different notes on his tongue.  Good stuff! Of course- they were at a social gathering of a Duchess, so she probably didn’t serve up the cheap crap from a box.  He still recalled the first time someone told him wine did come in boxes in some stores. Then again, who knew?  Some rich folks he knew were cheap as fake watches in China Town. Well, except, rumors of Sarah being in debt were almost as numerous as speculation about his own finances.  As if that was anyone’s business.  After all- soon all that shit would be over with.  He just had to make it through the concerts. Preferably with a beating heart and finances restored once more. 

Amazingly, Philipps and Co had backed off slightly almost two months ago and had pushed the dates back quite a bit. Also, they had changed the schedule to include longer breaks in-between shows. Which obviously meant he’d be tied to them for a longer duration, but his chances of possibly making it through alive also had increased somewhat.  

When Frank initially had filled him in on the changes, he had been suspicious and immediately gone into paranoia mode.  What were they up to now?  Would they use the delay to blame him for holding things up again?  Were they angling to sue him? Rake him over the coals in the press about how unreliable he was?  But no, the press-release made AEG come of downright angelic. 

Concerned and worried about his health and dedicated to his recovery, they wanted to ensure he was returned to full strength.  

Such a bunch of crap! 

“So- when can I leave?”  Michael listened to his body as it responded to the wine.  What he wouldn’t give to be able to capture this little spark of relaxation and submerge himself totally.  Surrender...revive his spirit...  let his muscles rest..and his mind float.

But no- he had worked hard to be off any sedatives.  Benzos were strictly to be used ‘as needed’ and were supervised by his medical team.  He also had been forced to add a shrink to come along.    As if there was something wrong with him beyond being pushed to the brink of sanity by the ringleaders of this circus. 

“Mike- you just got here. I already thought you guys had gotten lost or something. It’s hard to be the life of the party when the main event is MIA.” 

“I thought no one knew I’d be here?”  And just like that any hint of relaxation was gone.  They better not have turned this into some media blitz! 

This was supposed to be a quiet affair.  The sheer size of the property and amount of cars parked to the side had told him he was an idiot for believing anyone about anything. Wouldn’t be the first time Frank had arranged some crowd scene.  It was so damn difficult to tell friends from leeches! These days, his default was to expect a knife in the hidden cloak of everyone he shook hands with. Fun way to live. 

“Well, some people knew.  Philipps is around somewhere- and he kept bugging me to find out if you’d be here.  And the Duchess knew, I guess- given it’s her place. But I figured her having been a relative to your Princess Diana and all you don’t mind that all that much.”

Michael rolled his eyes and took another sip. It’s always fun to see how your likes and dislikes were used against you.

“Okay. Let me rephrase: how long do I have to stay?  Can I just do a little jig and be gone?”  He did a couple of steps and ended in a “ta-da!” to illustrate his point.  Fool for rent.

Frank actually laughed, but Karen just looked slightly annoyed and produced a pout  that might have looked cute thirty years ago. “Michael! How ‘bout you try to enjoy yourself?  I mean- here I got all dressed up for you and you act as if someone’s out to shoot you.”  

Well, there was always that fear.  A shudder ran through him. No, he should be good. He almost died from a different kind of shot.  What were the chances? No, this place looked secure enough. And people in England seemed to like him a great deal more than Joe Racist Average in the good old US. Still, it was hard to avoid glancing around carefully.  Surely, it was simply smart to be very aware of one’s surroundings?

“How is security here, by the way?” He ignored Karen and addressed Frank again.  For some reason his own detail was waiting by the car. For a second he couldn’t recall if they stayed behind cause he asked them to or not. No...he did ask.  Exhaling deeply, he fisted his hands, to get that tingly feeling to stop. 

“Shit, Mike! This is the home of a Duchess! Not exactly Afghanistan. So, can you please just enjoy the goddamn sunny ass day?”

Michael giggled. “Well, Frank- since you put it in such lovely terms. Sure...”  He handed Frank the empty can. “I need more ...ah...soda, though. Please.”

“How ‘bout you come with me to the house and make your appearance.  There are some photographers there and...”

He knew it! Dammit! No wonder Frank was trying to get him to relax.  What was next?  A microphone being pushed into his hand and a spotlight appearing out of nowhere? 

Stay cool, man! You now the drill. Just play along. But stay firm...

“Surprise, surprise. No singing, Frank. Nothing like that- understood?” 

Frank stopped and did his little defensive stance with his arms spread out dramatically. “Mike! Jeeze! No one will ask you to sing.  Or dance! Not even for a jig.  Just stand around with our pretty Karen here, shake some hands, smile that fake ass smile you’re so good at, and then you can go. Deal?”

Didn’t sound all that bad.  He could do this.  Just pretend he wasn’t there.  He was good at that.  Run on autopilot.  Let his mind soar. 

“Anyone here I know, by the way?”

“Yeah, Karen, me, Philipps, Kenny might be here somewhere...some of the dancers I’m told...the guitar girl with the funny name...ahh....and a bunch of Brits.”

You are such a little idiot, Mike.  She’s not here. Why would she be? Just cause she’s rumored to be friends with the Duchess? 

Damn! Was that it?  Had he hoped Lisa would be here?  Was that his real motivation for not telling Phillips to go to hell?  Or just ignore him as usual? Of course, he could have asked her, but he didn’t want her to think he was trying to force a meeting or anything...

Karen’s phone chimed and startled him. 

“Hey- I’ll go over with you, Frank.  Kenny just texted me to come talk to this make-up guru who thinks they can give me some pointers. Like I really need that?  Whatever. So- Michael- just stop being a baby and come over with us, okay?”

He looked toward the crowd. 

That iron fist inside his stomach dissolved into tentacles made of ants and uncoiled through his body.  No, he really needed a moment.  The mere thought of the metallic barrage of cameras clicking, the fake smiles, the hands he’d have to shake... He noticed his hands were getting sweaty and bile rose.  A headline of “Jackson tosses his cookies at social gathering” was not all that desirable.

“You know what? I wanna check in with the kids real quick and once I go over there it’ll be way too noisy. So I’ll just walk around a bit and make my call and I’ll be there. Really.”

Frank made a face dramatically rolled his eyes. “Mike, don’t make Philipps come after you. We don’t need a scene.”

“Frank! Haven’t you heard? Me and Randy are the best of pals now! You really need to read your own press releases!”

“Fuck you!”

Michael blew Frank and Karen a kiss and turned the other way.

After he made his call to ensure the kids were behaving and not too bored, he checked his email.  Gotta love iphones! He still was not one hundred percent comfortable with being this accessible at all times, but it sure was great when he felt like reaching out and touching someone.  Like his little friend.

Lisa.  

The mere thought of her name brought a smile to his face.  Since his first call to her they had actually started to talk on a regular basis.  He had been so dead set against letting her in again- but shoot, she once had been the one person he could run everything by.  And despite her bad cases of diarrhea of the mouth in the press and on tv, she had never betrayed him when it came to the big stuff.  Plus, it would be rude to turn down her offer to help.  Which, in the moment had seemed like such a sweet and useless gesture.  Like a little cream puff.  So adorable to stare at and sweet on the pallet- but in the end not all that satisfying and without nutritional value.  

Except Lisa had always been deeply satisfying to him.  Shit... The funny little feeling now slipped deeper.  No- that was the past.  Yes, he had craved her like his very own opium, and still, her body had only been part of the equation.  

An amazing, mindblowing part.

Swallowing, he tried to redirect his thoughts.  From her body to the rest of her.  The rest of Lisa.  Which was so much contained in such a little person. Lisa had this ability to let him vent when he needed, to call him on his bullshit when she felt he had to be reigned in, and to offer up support by simply being there.  Well, to be honest, for years, she had withdrawn that.  Or, when it was offered, he had been too hurt and too protective of his own heart to prepare the landing strip for her doves of peace. Like when she had called him about two years ago on one of her missions to ‘make peace’ with her life, and thus her exes.  As if he was just one in a string of many. Nothing more.  Nothing special.  When she was the one for him... God, it had been horrible.  The incredible elation when first hearing her voice on the line.  Cutting through his loneliness.  A ray of light! Then her idiotic statement- a slap in the face.  How utterly dejected he had been upon realizing she called to lay her memories to rest. Well, fuck her! Oh, how satisfying it had been to coax her out of her pretended serenity and get her screaming mad, swearing she did not know why she had called.  Leaving him with the delicious certainty of knowing he still had the ability to get to her.  So much for her being totally over him! If she was pissed it had to mean she still cared.  At least in his twisted, tortured mind. 

So, Lisa offered help this time- And either she was sincere or his guard must have been down.  Probably a bit of both. Her concern opened a small crack in his shell.  He found confiding in her was a part of his DNA. The words poured out before he even noticed what was happening.   Scared the shit out of him, too, when he heard how pathetic he sounded! Cringing, he expected her to laugh and call him a pitiful baby.  See him for the defective weakling sniffling in her corner he often spied in the mirror.  But no.  Her understanding coaxed the lonely, scared boy from under the bed. Instead of ridicule he found wide open, comforting understanding.  It was all so very uncomplicated once again.  Lisa was simply there for him.  Once again he spotted his safe base in the permanent fog. 

Lisa was the first person he called when AEG informed him of the time extension.  Her relief gave him butterflies and provided more joy than when he had heard the words himself.  Funny how he had only been numb at the news.  The first honest human reaction came when her reaction filled him with warmth.  Lisa was teaching him to be human again.  By being that constant voice on the other end of the phone line.  Reliable and steady...unwavering...  As rehearsals started up again, it was easy to talk to her due to the time difference. When he was up late, she usually had just gotten up and they’d talk.  They started to communicate per emails and even chatted a time or two.  Which was odd at first, but he quickly got to enjoy the instant back and forth.  Lisa and her quick, sarcastic wit made him laugh and made him relax.

Then, predictably, the old hopes and dreams snuck in.  How could he talk to her and not remember the many nights on the phone, her sexy voice wrapped around him. While his hand was wrapped around his dick.  Making love to Lisa was amazing, but having phone sex with her hadn’t been half bad, either.  So now, as he was laying in bed, and she’d talk about her day...he more than once caught his hand trying to sneak south.  Which was such an idiotic, stupid thing to do! You don’t play with yourself while your friend discussed her frustrations of driving on the wrong side of the road as she called it. 

No, it was much better to masturbate in the shower after not being able to get her voice and the images it invoked out of his mind.  

Dammit! 

Michael glanced around, making sure he was still alone.  The last thing he needed was some reported or -God forbid- even Philipps coming over and find him with a tent in his pants.  

Sighing, he redirected his attention to his inbox. Anticipation made him bite his lip.  Something was changing yet again. She had not been as available these past couple of weeks.  Had seemed distracted on the phone, had sent less mails.  The last phone  conversation had been very strained and choppy. And it was all his damn fault.  It was not in him to accept a status quo and simply be satisfied... Not where she was concerned.  

“Did I make you mad or something?”

“What?”

“You seem...different.”

“Jesus, Michael, the world does not revolve around you, you know.  The girls are more demanding now, the are starting to walk and are way more mobile. And Riley and Ben are about to come over for the twin’s first birthday. So, there’s a lot going on.”

“Great- given the shows will start in October and all.”

“Yes, by all means, let’s make this about you again.”

“Lisa- is this about what we talked about..you know...last time....We were just kidding ‘round. No need to flip out, girl.”

Silence. Oh yeah. She was flipping out alright.  Finally, she cleared her throat. 

“Look, I gotta go.  We’ll talk later.” A pause. “I promise.”

God! He had been such an idiot! Why were flashing arrows marking the armed bombs never enough warning to not cross a minefield?  Why did it instead seem a really good idea to don blinders and go skipping and hopping into danger.  Big fucking surprise it was raining limbs soon...

Somehow, in one of their chat sessions, they had ventured into territory that had been way off limits. He was not sure how, but somehow they had talked about Janet and then that had led to a mention of that infamous Speakerphone interlude.  Things had gone downhill from there.  Before his rational brain could hide all phones, he had called her- and the flirtation had continued.  Husky voices breathing barely disguising moans...innuendos... His mind abuzz with images of her body.  Memories...flashbacks... Post Traumatic Lisa Disorder.  It was hot. Forbidden.  And oh, so tantalizing. That time, he had not been able to hold back.  His hand was a vice around himself..stroking...his dick about to explode...her voice snaking around his shaft like a hot tongue.  Someone had come into her room and she ended things rather quickly.  Was gone like a mirage in the desert, leaving him to drown on the dry sand in his throat when he had imagined the cooling relief of the oasis.  Or more appropriately, dumped a vat of ice on him...talk about a cold shower!

And with the ice came reproaches. What the hell had that been about?  Well...old habits, right?  A pure biological needs to have a woman. It had been so long... Strictly speaking, in this new life, he was still a virgin.  Rebirth sucked!

So, he was well aware of Lisa pulling way back.  No big surprise. That’s what she did.  He knew her defensive strategies because they were so similar to his own.  In another lifetime she had struck like a little rattle snake when mad. Now, she seemed to attempt to hide first.  But hey- they needed to talk about it.  He needed her and he was not willing to let this one crazy mistake fuck it all up. Yes, they needed to address this.  Hadn’t it been her always telling him he needed to communicate?  Well, he was ready to communicate like never before. To process how this was just like an old comfortable shoe.  Yes, that would go over well: Lisa, look at it this way- you’re like an old, stinky sneaker to me. 

Or maybe, they could just ignore it and go back to the safe zone.  Yeah, much better plan.  He wouldn’t want his shrink to rub off on him too much. To that effect, he had sent her an email, chatting on about this and that- acting as if absolutely nothing had happened.  That should show her that he had not taken their almost make-out session too seriously, right?  Unless....unless she had. Maybe she was finally considering what she had lost. What she had actually thrown away. 

Hey, sure she might be with her new family now. But really, how could she not remember what they had been to each other?  This new man of hers...could he really move her as deeply?  Could he make her crave the lightest touch, make her beg for him, light up with that inner fire as she had done over and over with him?

Sure, he’d back off.  For now.  But really, maybe getting Lisa back was simply part of the puzzle.  He’d reclaim his life- and she was forever a part of that.  No more silly dreams. No more holding on to portraits reminding him of a time gone by.  How ‘bout he become the creator of his own, new masterpiece?  How strange it was to feel that confidence cursing through his veins once more! Shit- he was tired of feeling like a beaten dog all the frigging time!   

Okay, Mike, one step at a time.  It’s okay to have the big goals- and you get there. One step at a time. 

Suddenly, the day seemed just a little bit brighter.  Even the fact that his inbox was notably lacking an email from Lisa was nothing but a sign that she was still fighting her own feelings.  And if there was even a fight at all- he knew he’d win.  

Okay, big guy, one thing at a time.  How ‘bout you stop hiding and go over there. Show them who they’re dealing with. Michael Jackson.  He’s back and he’s better than ever.  

Michael’s shoulders squared and his spine elongated.  Humming to himself, even his step seemed to have become lighter.  Since he did want to check out the rest of the property a bit more, he mapped a path around what looked like some stables and then back to the main house.  

He stopped by some of the boxes and quietly talked to the horses.  Petting their smooth coats, he loved the play of their ears as they seemed to deliberate the play of soundwaves.  The kids had begged for horses again. Well, make that, Paris had begged. Prince usually logically debated why it would be a good idea to ride more again, while Paris went into her passionate head first assaults.  Blanket usually quietly deliberated and then cleverly aligned with the sibling he gave best chances. At six, he already used his quiet but sharp wit to make sure he was not just the ‘baby’ as he hated to be called, his siblings could sway easily.  

When Michael rounded the building, he noticed a small gathering of people. Dammit. For all his bravado about showing everyone he was not afraid, he had not made the choice to immerse himself socially yet.  He still had about fifteen minutes of calm serenity planned. Stopping, he pondered how he could use the building as cover to doublet back to where he wanted to be without having to engage.  Sadly, it was not as if he could just stroll by people and they would not know who he was. Well, on the other hand, the British were way less intrusive, so maybe he could get by with a quick hello and a smile. 

The sun was in his face and blinded him despite the shades.  Walking slowly closer, a sound suddenly made him stop cold.  

Laughter. 

His body froze. Heartbeat elevated automatically.  Breathing became ragged.  Trembling set in. Was there an earthquake? No shit...it was his trauma, right?

That’s what they told him, anyway.  Any sound that reminded him of stress could start the automatic chain reaction.

Only, this sound was not the least bit related to his latest bout with death. It was closer associated with dying a million times over the past years.  Dying when flying apart inside her body..dying to see her.  Dying when she left him for dead. Over and over...

No, it was impossible.  Get a grip.  She’s not anywhere near here. What did she say? England is not that small...

There now...deep breath...close your eyes.  Calm...it’s nothing.  Count to ten.  Follow your breath. 

Again! That sound!  His eyes flew open. And then he saw her.  No mistaking that figure breaking away from the illuminating halo.  Shit!

Instinctively, he stepped to the side under the shade of the barn.  Taking cover from the sniper.  Reality was assaulting him with undeniable images. Pressing his body into the building, he wished with all his heart this was some horrible nightmare.

His head dropped back and banged against the wall. Ouch! There! Fuck!

External pain helped to knock his marbles back into place.

Get a grip! What the hell was his problem? Had he not hoped just about twenty minutes ago that she’d be here?  He knew full well she was friends with Sarah Ferguson.  And he also knew she didn’t live too far from here.  Oh, the things he knew about his little friend Lisa.

Bees once again buzzed inside, stroking his insides with their wings.  As long as the stingers stayed hidden it was okay.

Yes, your friend. That’s right. Didn’t you just pester the shit out of her for months so come and see you in London?  

Yes, in London. On his own turf.  At his show. Where he was in charge. Where he didn’t have to hide against a wall.  Taking a deep breath, he took a step away.  Toward safety. Better. Much less cowardly now.

Now, this was not about hiding. It was about...checking things out. Gathering intelligence.  

Well, dude, about two seconds ago, you didn’t seem all that intelligent when you darted against a barn wall and busted your head. 

No, he had simply been...surprised.  

Surprised to hear her laughter.  Surprised to see her.  In person. His own personal vision. His eyes roamed over her.  She wore a flowing sundress and a light sweater.  Her hair was so long again.  Long as he had always loved it.  She looked so young.  Just like she did in his dreams. 

The thing usually not in his dream was the man who reached for Lisa’s hand.  Michael’s eyes squinted to see clearer. Yeah, that was the dude, alright. Lockwood. Her husband.  He wore some odd cap and John Lennon glasses.  What the hell did Lisa see in him? 

A young woman he initially barely recognized carried over a little girl, and Lisa reached out to pick up the tot.  Riley?  Shit! How had Riley grown up that fast?  The baby must be one of Lisa’s twins.  His heart did that painful little squeezing thing that always seemed to occur when he thought of Lisa with her twins.  He noticed Lockwood carried the other little girl and Lisa stepped up, and kissed the blond little tot her husband held.  The tall man reached over and his hand rested in Lisa’s hair for a moment.  Such a small gesture.  And yet, so full of intimacy. 

Michael swallowed. He noticed his teeth were doing a number on his bottom lip.  HIs hands were fisted.

His heart breaking.

There it was.  The very image of a perfect family. The family he had dreamed of. A family with Lisa.  Only, it was all wrong.  This had nothing to do with him.  Well, nothing, but the fact that his own stubborn actions had driven Lisa straight into the arms of the very man who now carried her daughter.  Their daughter.  

He should walk away. But he was fastened to the little scene before his eyes.  Helplessly and hopelessly lost in the agony of the magical canvas.

Lisa now put her little girl down, the little hands holding on to her mother in such a trusting way as Lisa helped her take a series steps in the grass.  The other twin obviously did not want to be left out, and Lockwood helped his daughter toddle around a bit.  Riley kneeled down and opened her arms, making her little sister squeal and take several tentative steps before she arrived safely.  Lisa’s laughter again, ripping his heart to shreds.  Feeling something on his cheek, Michael reached up and wiped a tear from his face.  The sun. Nothing more.  For sure.  

Lockwood picked the small girl up once more and lifted her onto his shoulders.  Lisa stepped in closer and he bent down, allowing the little laughing girl to reach and capture her Mom’s head, while Lisa kissed her round cheek.  Then, as her husband straightened once more, Lisa’s hand reached up, and she touched his face.

Another knife launching into his erratically beating heart.  God, when would the pain stop?

No, look away...why are you staying here. Just get the hell out of here. 

Paralyzed, he removed his shades.  His feet didn’t work.  His heart threatened to explode. 

Lisa rose on her toes and Lockwood leaned down to kiss her...on her nose... 

How very sweet.

Michael felt like throwing up.  The visual assault a fist in his gut.  

Sudden clarity after the glued on blinders were ripped off. 

What an idiot he had been! What a fucking dreamer! Lisa had not backed off because she was assaulted by memories and her desire for him! She had been shocked and horrified by his breach of trust. They had started over as friends and he had talked to her with his fuck-me voice, his hand on his cock like some pervert.  She was married and obviously in love with her husband. This was not Danny. This was a whole ‘nother ballgame.  She had two small children- the result of her new life.  The pictures of her pregnant body...not darts thrown at him to taunt him.  Instead, a signal of her pride in her new life.  Her joy.  

Not everything is about you, Michael.

Apparently she had not been kidding. 

Escape! He had to get away! Fuck Philipps and fuck this whole bullshit outing.  He’d drive home and purge himself by dancing...by hiding in his work.  Hug his children.  The only human beings aside from his mother that mattered and who cared. He had a job to do.  So what if he was alone?  Had it really ever been any different?  She had not lied this time.  She told him she was married- and happy. Once she had been a part in his life.  Now...now she wanted to be his friend. Any other phantasy had simply been a delusion.  She’d felt sorry for him.  Sorry for his pain.  Sorry he had almost died.  And maybe, now she was sorry he had survived. 

Well, too bad. Here he was.  But he was damned if he’d be her victim once again.  Okay...his feet seemed to work.  Some feeling finally arrived. True, his  legs were still a bit shaky, but the dizziness was less pronounced. Mapping out a way back around the other side of the stables, he’d find Frank and Karen and smile for the camera a time or two.  Then make a break. With his idiotic dreams and the lie that a happy ending was possible for him. 

Placing the shades back over his eyes, he turned his back on the life he should have had. Once and for all. 

(to be  continued)

Author's note: Sorry for the short chapter....the next one will be longer. :) 

©2013 Erika B Michaels. All Rights Reserved. This story is a work of fiction. Any names, places, and other identifying features are used in a fictional manner, for entertainment purposes only, and are in no way representative of actual events. This work may not be reproduced, copied, transmitted, or stored without expressed written permission by Erika B Michaels. All photos and images, mentioned songs or song titles are copyright their creators. ABSOLUTELY no disrespect is intended to any persons portrayed in this work.