Road Trip (7 page)

“I know. I've read some on social anxiety disorders.”

“Is that what this is?” I asked. “Does it really have a name?”

“Man, they have names for everything,” said Isaiah. “You could be afraid of sneezing in crowds, and the shrinks would give it a name.”

“Sometimes it helps to have a name attached. It helps you to know what you're dealing with,” said Jeremy. “Sure, it doesn't solve the problem, but it makes you realize that you're not alone and there might be ways to cope with it better.”

I smiled. “I have to admit, it makes me feel better knowing that you struggle with it and that it's something real—not just in my head, you know?”

Jeremy nodded. “I know.”

Then we started talking about music again, critiquing the marimba band and sharing some of the things that inspire us. It was so cool just hanging with these guys tonight. And on the way home, riding in the backseat of the convertible with the top down and knowing that the guys in the front seat are members of the best band in the country…well, it was almost more than my little pea brain could take in.

And to be perfectly honest, it was sort of
romantic too. I can't believe I just admitted this. It's something I could only say in the privacy of my diary. Ito way would I want anyone besides God to know—and there's no hiding it from Him. But I'd freak if Allie or Laura—and definitely Jeremy—had any idea of how I feel right now.

But the truth is, I'm afraid that I'm getting a real crush on Jeremy. Okay, I know this guy's way older than me, and in a way that makes it seem okay. It's as if he's so unattainable that it's safe. Besides, he treats me like his kid sister. And that's okay too. Really. It makes me feel like I can hang with him without getting all worried that anything could go sideways. And I just like being with him. I like talking about music and lyrics and life and God with him. Now, is there anything wrong with that?

(ORDINARY DAY IN EL PASO)

Saturday's concert in Santa i'e was great. In ray humble opinion both bands totally rocked. The crowd seemed to agree, and Eric said that Redemption was the perfect complement to Iron Cross.

“I think these two bands could have a really bright future together,” he told Willy the next morning as we were getting ready to head out. “The big boys at Omega like what they're hearing. And Iron Gross is pleased too.”

“What went wrong with the last band who toured with them?” asked Willy.

“Spirit Walkers?” Eric shook his head. “It's kind of a long story, but the nutshell version is they fell apart.”

Willy nodded as he loaded the last of the drum kit into the storage bin. “Yeah, that's usually the case.”

Eric smiled as he glanced over to where Allie and I were lurking and eavesdropping. Okay, we were just listening. “But that's not going to happen with Redemption. Is it, ladies?”

“No way,” Allie said with full confidence.

“Not as long as God's holding us together,” I added. But I can't deny that hearing about another band falling apart ran a slight chill down ray spine.

“That's the attitude.” Eric patted me on the back. “All things are possible through God, right?”

I nodded.

“See you in Dallas then.” He grinned. “Oh, by the way, I probably shouldtft tell you this, but a couple of the bigwigs are flying out with me for the Dallas concert. Hopefully you guys will be hot that night.”

“I'm sure we'll do our best,” I assured him. “We've got family coming to that concert.”

“Great. It'll be a good one for everybody then.”

So we've been really getting in the practice time this week. Willy and I both agree that we need to make up for lost time—specifically for our little lull when Laura wasn't up to speed. I think we're sounding better and better, and Pve been able to introduce a couple new songs. Ky two favorite parts of this tour are practicing and performing—well, and getting to know the members of Iron Gross—but I'm trying to handle the publicity stuff better too.

Ifow that our CD is officially released, we're expected to make appearances at the major
Christian bookstores along the way. I have to say this is stretching me—a lot. Still, I remind myself that Jeremy struggles with the same thing. Iron Gross isn't expected to make as many appearances as we do since their music literally flies off the shelf. I know this is because they've done this already. They've paid their dues.

I don't know what I'd do if Allie and Laura weren't so comfortable with this part of the business. Sometimes it feels as if they're holding me up and pulling me through these times. But I guess that's okay. It's like we've all got our gifts. And while I'm gifted at the creative end, I need some serious help with the rest. And that's probably a good thing.

(DAY OF REST IN DALLAS)

We have a concert in ibrt Worth on Tuesday, then we practice until the big event in Dallas on Saturday. Willy took us to church this morning. An old music friend of his is the pastor there, and Willy had specifically asked his buddy not to mention that we (Redemption) were visiting his church. I fot that anyone would care since we haven't done a concert in their area yet, and it's not like we're that well-known. But I must admit, it was a relief to go someplace without everyone knowing who we were or making a big deal about us. I felt like I could actually breathe. Not to mention worship. It's not that I can't worship God when people are glancing at me from down the pew, and I actually believe that I do worship God when I'm onstage performing, but it's different somehow. I guess I miss the kind of worship I was able to participate in back home, back when I was just a member of an ordinary congregation.

Sometimes it scares me to think that I may never get back to that ordinary sort of life. It's
not that I don't want Redemption to do well and even become famous. In some ways I do. Especially when it comes to performing my music and having it appreciated by the audiences. But still, there's a price you must pay. Sometimes I wonder how willing I really am to pay it. And I suppose that scares me.

(DOWN AND OUT IN DALLAS)

Dallas is one of the wealthiest cities in the United States, or so I've been told. But here's what I've noticed—and to be fair, I've noticed this in every big city we've been through—I've seen homeless people everywhere. I don't mean everywhere, as in on every street. But I've seen them in every city. Sometimes they're panhandling by the hotels we stay in. Or sometimes you just see them clustered on a corner, and you can tell they're homeless by their clothes and their hangdog expressions. At least I can.

I'm sure it's easy for some people to miss them. Laura and Allie don't really seem to notice them at all. I know this for a fact because I've mentioned this to them several times, and they both act as if I'm overreacting or imagining things. But the truth is, I seem to see them everywhere. I remind myself of that kid in “The Sixth Sense” who said, “I see dead people.” Except I see homeless people. And I know they're not invisible. But that's how it feels sometimes. It's like no one else even sees them.

And that really bothers me. I think it bothers me even more because so many of them seem to be about my age or thereabouts. What are they doing on the streets? They look perfectly miserable to
me. Why don't they just go home? Okay, I'm not stupid, and I know it's not that simple. Life never is. But seeing these kids has got me thinking about my oldest brother, Caleb. I wonder if he's hanging out on the streets like that, and that cuts deep into my heart.

Okay, this is what I remember about Caleb. He was kind and gentle and had the most beautiful brown eyes. He liked playing soccer in the backyard with me and helping me with homework, and I don't remember him ever teasing me or being mean. I would never admit this to anyone, but as a kid I think I loved Caleb more than Josh. Caleb is about two and half years older than Josh, which makes him almost twenty-four now. I haven't seen him for about three years, and whenever I think of him I get extremely sad. And for that reason I suppose I try not to think of him too much, although I do pray for him daily.

The last time I saw Caleb was when he came home for Christmas, back when I was thirteen— just a year before I went through my rebellious streak. Anyway, by then Caleb had been in college for about a year, and I'd noticed how much he'd changed. He'd gone off looking like the Caleb I'd always known—clean-cut and athletic—but he returned with scraggly hair and looking a little gnarly around the edges.

My parents didn't realize it was drugs to start
with. But when he got suspended from school for smoking grass and consequently lost his football scholarship, they both got very upset. Ky dad told him to get a job and save up his own college tuition money. And I thought that was what he'd been doing all that year.

But when Caleb came home for Christmas the following year, we all knew something was really wrong. It's as if he'd undergone a complete personality change—he looked burnt-out, hardly smiled, and even seemed to be a little paranoid every time the phone rang or someone came to the door. It was weird, finally, on Christmas Eve, he asked my parents to loan him some money.

“I need to get a car,” he explained. “So I can get a good job, you know, and start saving for college.”

“Look, Caleb,”I overheard Dad tell him. “We've sent you money in the past. You always say you're going to use it to get clothes for job interviews or for going back to school or something worthwhile. Then it's always the same old story: The next thing we know you're broke and jobless. nothing ever changes with you.”

“Hey, it's not easy—”

“That's right! Doing drugs is not easy. It's not easy on anyone.”

A few more words were exchanged, and then Caleb stormed out of there, promising to never come back. As a result, it was not a happy
Christmas that year. I think it had a pretty negative impact on everyone in our family. Ky dad started working longer hours; my mom seemed more edgy and depressed. Josh got into drinking and partying about that same time, and it wasn't too much later that I went into my dark period.

Oh, I'm not blaming all this on Caleb. It's just the way life happened for the Killer family. And if anything, I feel really sorry for Caleb. I hated the way my parents dealt with him. Naturally, they called it “tough love,” but it seemed more like “tough luck” to me. Ky dad made it perfectly clear to Caleb that as long as he was into drugs, he was not welcome in our home.

Okay, I can sort of understand that, but where did that mean Caleb could go? Where would he find help? On the streets? That's where I envision him sometimes. It's not an image I'm comfortable with, but it's probably a real possibility. So every time I see a guy in his twenties with shaggy brown hair and dark soulful eyes, I have to look twice. And I wonder, could that be him? Could that be my brother Caleb? Because I have no idea where he is, or worse yet, if he's even still alive. I can't even describe how much it hurts to think of this. Like a dull knife twisting inside my gut. But every time I feel it, I pray for him.

(HANGIN' WITH THE FAM)

Tonight's concert felt like I was living ray happiest fantasy. But let me back up a bit. Josh and ray parents and Laura's parents and brother all arrived in Dallas this afternoon. We raet thera at the airport in a stretch limo, no less, and took thera out for an early dinner. Our treat, of course. Actually, the whole weekend was our treat. Guess that's one of the perks of this biz—you actually have enough money to do some cool things.

I still can't believe how thrilled I was to see my family. I think it surprised them too. I hugged each of thera long and hard. Even ray mom. She was actually wiping tears from her eyes when I finally let go. That was cool.

“You look older, Chloe,” she said as she assessed my outfit. I'd gone to special effort to put on something a little more traditional than my usual urban “trash,” as ray mom would call it. I think she appreciated it.

“You guys look great,” I told them. “I can't believe how rauch I've missed you.”