Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star) (12 page)

“Dad.  What are you doing here?”

“Well you don’t have a phone anymore.  How am I supposed to get in touch with you?”

My passive/aggressive response to my father was to always roll my eyes.  It was easier than giving him an answer he didn’t like.

“Taggart.  Where’s your phone?”

“Gone.  Why you here Dad?”

“I have to have a reason to visit my son?”  Auggie gave me the once over.  “So, back to your old ways I see?”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”  How did he do it?  Every time I see my Dad for more than thirty seconds, he manages to get under my skin.

“You look like you had quite a night, that’s all I’m implying, Taggart.  No need to get huffy with me.  You’re my son, not my daughter."

Ooh, he was incorrigible. “It was nothing, Dad.”

But Auggie saw through me like he always did.  He gave me his usual knowing look.  The one that says ‘Ain’t nothin’ getting’ by me, asshole.’  “Why are you upset ‘cause you partied?  It’s okay to party, Taggart.  No one’s gonna arrest you for having a good time. You’re a big boy now.”  So very condescending.

“Dad, it’s got more to do with just having a good time.”  I put my head in my hands again.  I can’t believe I was here again, stuck in between wanting to lead a life full of significance, and actually doing it.  What would it take to turn me around?  I’ve killed my wife.  I’ve killed my little boy.  I’ve ruined my band.  And, even though right now I blame my mother for ruining my relationship with Mara, somehow, it was probably me who caused its demise.  I don’t know how to live life unless I’m messing it up.  I grew up getting everything handed to me. I had assistants to plan my days.  A touring schedule to plan my nights, but all I ever wanted was a normal life.  A life that blended in with all the other lives out there.  I no longer wanted to be Tagg Holland.  I just wanted to be Tagg.

“Taggart.  Wake up.”

Dad so rudely interrupted my introspection.  “What?  What do you want, Dad?  Why the fuck are you here?  You never did tell me.”

“What’s your problem Taggart?  You’re fuckin’ up again; always feeling sorry for yourself.  You get close to something, then you fuck it up.  You did it with Crystal, you did it with your band, now you’re doing it with that little trainer of yours.”

That was uncalled for.  He knew nothing about Mara or my feelings for her.  “What does Mara have to do with anything?”  I asked, as I poured myself a bowl of Lucky Charms.  All I had so far this morning was a lot of coffee and whatever alcohol that was left over in my system.

“Well, she has to do with your latest drinking binge, doesn’t she?”

“One party does not make a binge.”

“Get off it, Taggart.  Ronnie told me you’re on the sauce 24 hours a day, so you’re only kidding yourself, Kid.”

“Gimme a break, Dad. Will you?”  And goddammit, I broke down right in front of him.

Auggie’s tone got less offensive as he tried in his own way to have a heart.  “I know Mara’s behind this recent plunge of yours.  You know,” he didn’t even give me a chance to rebut.   “You really didn’t give her a chance.  She’s wanted so much to explain everything, but you wouldn’t even allow it.  You don’t even have a cell phone anymore.”

My shoulders raised as I consciously breathed air in, trying to allow myself to think about Mara without totally losing it in front of my dad.

He hardly noticed.  “You’re not being fair to her you know, Taggart.  What your mother did was pretty shitty, but to ignore Mara, without giving her a chance to defend herself was pretty low as well.”  Auggie hesitated, but I stood there pressing my lips together in a straight line so as not to show any emotion.  I know I failed immensely.  Auggie continued.  “Taggart, when your mother went looking for a personal trainer for you, that was her only intention.  I remember when she first brought the idea to me.  We knew the guys had wanted this reunion tour and you belonged up there with them.  Kenya and I really wanted to help make that happen.  We knew it would take a while for you to come around, but Kenya figured if you were in shape again, you’d feel good about yourself.  Then, maybe you’d want to live again, not just exist in some lonesome world you created for yourself.  We both agreed a trainer was the best route, so Kenya went on the ACE website.”  My face must have registered bewilderment, because Auggie paused to explain what ACE was.  “The American Council on Exercise.  She found some trainers in the Sparta area.  She told me the other day that when she met with Mara she was just so overtaken with her that they bonded.  Kenya explained it as ‘Mara having an empathetic soul.’  So, Kenya told me that she went as far as asking Mara if she would mind spending some extra time with you; that you were in need of a compassionate friend.  Mara said she’d see if she had time, but the extra money wasn’t necessary.  Your mom told me she saw all the time Mara was actually spending with you, so she figured she’d offer her the money after all.  Kenya said you’d walked in at that very moment.  Mara would have never taken the check.  She told your mother that night that she really cared for you and that you were actually helping her to get through her loss.  By the way, we had no idea Mara had lost her husband during 9/11.”  Once again, Dad fell silent, but this time he just let it be.

“Thanks for explaining.”  I swallowed back a lump that was forming in my throat as I realized I’d have to swallow a lot more than that to get Mara back.  My pride had always stood in the way of my happiness.  “Do you want any coffee Dad?” 

His expression was one of resignation.  “Alright.”

The two of us remained wordless for a very long few minutes.  I was still trying to absorb what my dad had just revealed.  I wanted to believe what he’d said about Mara.  I mean why would he lie? And why shouldn’t I believe that Mara was really sincere about her friendship?  I’d been so mentally messed up, though, that I found it hard to think straight, and instead of processing events like a normal person, it was easier to dissolve into my insanity.

“Taggart.  Were you listening to me?”  My father’s stern tone brought me back to reality.

I shook my head out of my self-deprecating reverie.  “Sorry Dad, no.  What did you say?”

“I said, on another note, have you been recording?  We need to get your album out by Spring.”

“Yeah.  Don’t worry.  I even hired Kim as my assistant again, to make sure I don’t miss any appointments.  She was happy to hear from me.”

“I’m sure she’s not the only one excited for your return.  You have a lot going on these days.  I’d like you to stay focused.  Maybe the doctor should up your Effexor again.”

Who died and made Auggie my psychiatrist?  Like he would know whether or not my anti-depressant needed adjustment.  “I’m good Dad.  So, are you staying the night or did you just stop by to see your only son?”

“I’m staying the night.  Unless you don’t want me to?”

“Nah.  I’d like you to stay.  I just need to rest my head right now.  It feels like it’s going to explode.  Wanna go outside?  I got a couple lounge chairs out there.”

Auggie nodded.  “Okay.  I’ll be out in a bit, I’m just gonna make a few phone calls.  Oh. And Tagg.  Give your mother a break and call her.  She only had your best intentions at heart.  You know that.”

Yeah.  I knew that.

The lounge chair was exactly what I needed.  The sun beating down on my sprawled out body felt like a warm blanket in the cool Autumn air.  I needed to call Mara.  I had let her down and hadn’t even given her the benefit of explaining.  And really, she was nothing but kind and generous to me.  I really needed to get another phone.

“Tagg.  Kim’s on my phone for you.”  Dad came out holding the phone at arm’s length in his hand.  “She said you still haven’t gotten back to her with a new phone number.” 

Damn.  I took the phone.  “Hey Kim, what’s up?”

“Tagg.”  Kim’s familiar voice was actually comforting.  “What’s going on?  The hair dresser called, said you never showed up today.”

“Oh geez, Kim.  I forgot all about it.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted to put some highlights back in your hair, pretty boy.  She said she’ll keep the next couple hours open for you, but I have to call her right back with confirmation that you’re showing up.”

“Yeah, yeah.  I’ll leave now.’

“And, Taggy, don’t forget to pick up your contact lenses.  They’re in.”

“Got ’em yesterday.” 

I filled Auggie in on where I was going and left for the hair salon, making a mental note to stop at Verizon on my way back. 

The salon I once frequented regularly had a cold atmosphere compared to the warm 1950s feel I got at Sam’s Barbour Shop in Sparta.  I doubted though, that Sam the Barbour would have known how to foil my hair with highlights and lowlights.  Another huge difference between Sam and the stylist doing my hair today was that Sam had no idea who I was – even after telling him my name.  Everyone at the salon today had recognized me and called me on it.  Although it was flattering, it was far from the normalcy I’d desired.  Sam’s place was warm, down-to-earth, and had that ‘just like home’ feel that I’ve always been drawn to. 

When the stylist was done with my hair, she spun the chair so that I would be facing the mirror.  Unbelievable.  It was as if time rewound itself and I was now peering at the 25 year old me.  The ‘me’ I’ve been trying to run away from for so long.  How I let this happen again, was beyond me.  I wasn’t happy being a heartthrob.  I wasn’t happy partying, although I enjoyed my music.  I wasn’t even all that thrilled with touring months on end.  Then, I run away from life, embracing myself in solitude, yet I was still so very unhappy.  All I’ve ever really wanted was to live a decent, normal, moral existence, yet I didn’t even know what that was.  Would I even recognize contentment if it were staring me in the face?  Sometimes I’d wonder if I was just one of those sad individuals who, no matter how much life had granted them, were never, ever satisfied.    I even ruined things with Mara.  Those few short months I had been blessed with her friendship were probably the closest I had ever gotten to having a normal relationship.  A deep relationship.

Mara’s Letter to Brad

October 8, 2010

Hi Brad,

I haven’t written in a while.  I’ve been pretty down lately.  Tagg hasn’t called and every time I try to call him, I can’t get through.  I know I’ve hurt him and I don’t know how to apologize.  Every day, I consider driving down to Somers’ Point, but he isn’t like other people.  Accepting people into his heart isn’t one of his strong points.  He is so good at shutting people out and running away that I just might break down if he turns away at the sight of me.

But I’m breaking down now.  Maybe going down there would be worth the risk.  He may be a little broken, but isn’t everyone, Brad?  Besides, his vulnerability is one of the charming qualities I fell in love with.  Maybe it’s worth taking the first step.  I couldn’t live without him; he’s the other half of my soul.

***

“Holy Shit, look at you.”  Auggie was lounging on my couch when I got home.  “Is it 1995 again?  You look awesome.  You look like that glamorous Rock 'n Roll Star you were born to be.”

Dad knew me so well.  “Can it, Dad.  Not in the mood.”

He held his hands up in defeat.  “’Kay.  You do look good, though; like your old man back before he turned all salt 'n pepper.”

“Have you looked in the mirror?  You got more salt than pepper.”  I chuckled in spite of myself.

“You wanna get some dinner, Taggart? Or are you not in the mood?” He mocked.

“I guess I can eat.  What do you have in mind?”

Auggie thought for a moment before slamming his hand down on the arm of the couch.  “How ‘bout the Crab Trap?  We haven’t been there in a while.”

The Crab Trap was the number one restaurant in Somers’ Point.  It sat directly on the bay, right before the bridge that crossed over into Ocean City.  Its food was phenomenal and although the wait to get in was long, there was a bar that sat right at the bay’s edge, where we’d enjoy a drink or two while we waited.  The live music was always a treat too.  It had been so long since I had eaten there, I actually missed it.

“Okay, when?”

“As soon as you’re ready.  I don’t mind eating early.”

“Okay, give me a half hour or so, I just need to make a phone call.”

“With what phone?”

“I got a new one this afternoon.”  I hadn’t waited for my father’s response, I was already headed for my bedroom/rec room in the back of the house.

My nerves were a jumbled mess.  The whole time I sat and waited for my hair to take effect, I was wondering what I would say to Mara.  I knew I needed to call her.  My stubbornness toward her and my mother was extremely childish.  I was thinking clearer now and my apologies to both were paramount.  Especially to Mara.  Where as my mother could have told me what she was up to, Mara had been put in a terrible position.  She really had done nothing wrong and I made a huge mistake by not allowing her to share her side of the story.

Now I was in the repentant position of pleading for Mara’s forgiveness. I wanted to make the call as soon as possible, before any more time had past.

She answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”  Her voice was the sound of an angel on earth. 

I had to clear my throat; it felt like cracked wheat.  “Mara.”  The name barely came off my tongue.  “Mara.”  I repeated more clearly.  “It’s Tagg.”

“Tagg.  Oh my goodness. How are you?”

This girl was amazing.  I heard no tones of indignation, even though I’d totally deserved them.  “I’m alright, I guess.” I hesitated slightly. “You know what, Mara, no, I’m not alright.”  My apologies began to pour out in buckets.  “I am so sorry.  I am so sorry for walking out on you that night and I am so sorry I haven’t called you in so long.  You did not deserve that.”  My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to hear Mara’s response.

“Tagg, that’s okay.  I can imagine what it probably looked like to you.  I tried calling you, but it always went to voicemail.”

“I’m sorry about that too.  I hope you can forgive me?”  Of course I had asked it instead of stating it.  It was more polite, I thought.

“Of course.  And forgive me, too.  I should have been up front with you about what your mother had asked of me.”

“She should have never put you in that position.  I still haven’t spoken with her.”

“Oh, Tagg, she really meant well.  She loves you so much.  All she wanted was to save you.  You really should call her.  She feels really bad.”

“You keep in touch with her?”

“I do.  She misses you.”

“Yeah, well,…I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“Mara?”  I sighed before taking a huge breath.  “Can I come visit you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“You have no plans?”

“Just church at nine in the morning.  Are you down the shore?”

“I am.  Auggie’s here with me, but he’ll be taking off in the morning.  I’ll leave when he does.  I’ll see you about noon?”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Bye, Mara.”

“Bye, Tagg.”

Even though it was only five o’clock in the evening, The Crab Trap was still crowded with patrons.  However, the hostess recognized Auggie and me so she moved us to the top of the list.  We only had to wait five minutes for our table.  Drinks, of course, were on the house.

“Dad, I got so sidetracked today that I forgot to tell you.”  I took a sip of my beer before continuing.  “There’s this woman that’s been following me.  She looks exactly like Crystal.  She drives a bright yellow Camaro.  Whether I’m in Sparta or Somers’ Point, she’s there.  I took down her plates and called the cops.  Guess who the plates are registered to?”

I drank more beer and searched my father’s eyes intently.  He narrowed them at me.  “No idea.”

“Crystal.  They’re registered to Crystal at my address.  I got the call this morning.”

Auggie furrowed his brow.   “I don’t get it.”

“Officer Bradish said it was registered the day after Crystal’s accident.”

“Hmmm.  That’s pretty creepy.  And, she’s following you?”

I nodded.  “All the time.”

“Something’s wrong here. I’ll look into it.  I have some friends who can check this out. In the meantime, be careful.  There are quite a bit of crazies out there.”

Didn’t I know it.  “Thanks.”  I hesitated to ask my next question.  “Dad.”  I paused again.  “You don’t think Crystal’s alive, do you?”

My dad let out a non-humorous laugh.  “No.  I was with you when you identified her body.  That dead girl was definitely Crystal.”

I nodded again.  “I guess so.  It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Taggart, listen, we’ll get to the bottom of this.  Don’t beat yourself up over it, you’ve done enough of that already.”

The rest of our dinner conversation followed a less serious subject.  Our food was delicious.  My Maryland Crab Cakes were perfect and Dad’s Surf and Turf looked remarkable.  When we were through, we got back in his bad-ass roadster and drove back to my house, where I plopped on my couch and fell asleep.  Dreaming of seeing Mara tomorrow.