Broken Strings (A Rock Star Novel) (18 page)

“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.”

“I’m kinda on the tail end of the detox process. My body is
still craving the drug. It should only last another day or two.” Day or two?
That’s not good. He’s going to be doing the show of his life in a day or two.
He has to bring his A game or we’re through. He takes my silence for doubt and
suspicion. “Hey, I’m clean and I’ll be fine, now let’s just go. It should work.
He trusts me. Well, as least as much as one druggie can trust another...He’ll
be too busy to stop and really take a good look at the money. By the time he
does we’ll be gone. The only problem I see is that he knows what your car looks
like. This could make for an interesting getaway if he pursues us.”

I look at my watch. “It’s almost show time Silas. You got
anything you need to get out of your room before we go?”

“I’m good to go. So, how’s the plan going to work?” As we’re
wandering around the grounds I fill him in. “That’s not really a plan sis,
that’s...forget it. I can’t think of anything else. It’s pretty damn bold, so
it just might work.”

One more glance at my watch. “We need to be near the intake
offices. You know where those are, right?”

“Yeah, is that where we’re leaving from?”

“In exactly twelve minutes, the camera on both the inside
and outside of the door is going to blink off for a little while. Your dealer
friend is somewhat of an expert lock pick I’m told, and he’ll open the door and
get us out.”

“He’s gonna need more time than that for the lock on that
door.”

“Well that’s all we got.”

I have a half ounce of heroin in a backpack along with
fifteen hundred bucks in small bills and newspaper. For the first time I am
really wondering if I’m doing the right thing. In fact, I’m pretty sure that
right now, this very moment, I am doing the wrong thing and I should just run
out the front door and never see Silas or Stewart or Brand ever again. I can’t
do it. I grasp the straps to my pack and tighten them even tighter. I don’t
want it bouncing around on my back while I’m running down the hall. I hope
Silas will forgive me someday, but I just can’t go through with this. My whole
future is on the line here. I have to run. The instant I am springing into
motion, Silas has got his hand on my arm and has stepped in front of me.

“Better let me hold your pack for you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lemme have it. If we’re caught it’ll be a lot easier on me
than you. But if you get caught, you’ll go down for possession with intent to
traffic. You’ll go away for double digits before you’ll be eligible for
parole.”

“You’re a terrible liar. I’m an educated member of the
medical community. They’ll think you coerced me into smuggling in the drugs and
I’ll get parole and that’s it. I’m keeping the pack.”

“June!”

“Seven seconds, Silas.”

I’m shocked that we actually made it down the long hall and
are standing in front of the door. I can hear someone tinkering with the
doorknob and soft swearing from the other side. I guess it’s not going as
smoothly as planned. After a minute I look at my watch. If my calculations are
correct, we have just forty more seconds before the security camera will be
functional again. What the hell is going on here?

“Something’s wrong Silas,” I whisper.

“You think?”

Then from the other side of the door: “Oh shit!” It’s my
dealer friend who’s swearing now. “How the fuck did you know I’d be here?
Dammit!”

“Step away from the door,” commands another voice.

“Hey look, I ain’t got a thing on me. I was just trying to
see an old friend. But if you’re looking for drugs and money, open that door
real quick like.”

I can’t believe this guy just ratted us out. Silas grabs my
pack and my arm. “Run!”

He takes the lead. We make it down the hall in record time,
and Silas skids to a halt in front of a door marked “library”. He doubles over
panting, trying to catch his breath.

“This… is… the old…library. They… don’t use it anymore… and
sometimes it’s left unlocked.” I try the knob. It’s unlocked. I open the door
and search around for a light switch. “No lights. Someone will come to
investigate. Besides, I know my way around here.”

“Why’s it so dark in here? It’s light outside.”

“They keep the blinds drawn. Here, take my hand and follow
right behind me, that way you won’t trip on anything.”

We find the window pretty fast and peek out through the
shades. From this side of the building, I can’t see my car—so there’s no way to
tell if someone is staking it out or not. I relay my thoughts to Silas.