Whirlwind Love: Libby's Journey (20 page)

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, Day 13 - Sunday

The gang rose early to prepare for their trip to the Oklahoma State Fair. TBK was scheduled to appear at 4:00 o’clock.

Joe and Chuck were checking their equipment, loading it with careful consideration regarding what they could leave behind in the barn’s storage room--designated as their space, with leftover equipment and props from decades of shows. “How’s Rick getting back to Tennessee? Do I need to make arrangements?” Joe asked Chuck.

“Nah, he’s thinking that he’ll try to hitch a ride with a friend who’s gonna be there. His band plays tomorrow night.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

Joe nodded, “You sure? We have enough in the gig fund to get you a bus ticket...wherever.”

“No…I’m not that desperate yet. I’ll find a ride…and somewhere to go. Might go back to the house with Rick, if nothing else…if they have room,” Chuck pouted.

“Well, okay then. Let me know. Hey, Mom’s got breakfast. Man have I missed those, but at this rate, I’ve probably gained twenty pounds before the week is up!” Joe acted oblivious to Chuck’s passive complaint.

* * *

Arriving at the fair just before noon, the backstage crew helped the band unload their guitars and other equipment to the staging area. The brothers greeted old friends and new acquaintances, as they settled in and tuned the guitars. Once all equipment was in place, Chuck and Joe walked across the parking lot to the RV, which Libby parked near the backstage gate at the far end of the parking lot that accommodated all the buses and tractor-trailers of the performing groups.

“We never have worked out the management thing…or where we’re heading,” Chuck casually mentioned as they walked up to the door.

Opening the door, Joe replied, “Yeah, I think I just want to get through this shoot for the next month. I’ll probably go home with Libby for a while. I’ll make some calls then, something’ll come up...don’t worry about it. I believe it’s all gonna work out.”

Chuck replied, “A.Hole called again yesterday. He was trying to get me to sign contracts. Jerk-off said he had gigs lined up for us, all I had to do was...”

“Yeah, man, we’ve heard it all before. Do you really wanna stick with that ass? I don’t. Since Marty left, they’ve never done right by us. I think we can do better,” Joe’s exasperated tone left no doubt he was through with the management that wouldn’t stand behind him or his band, as well as their conversation.

“Yeah, I know...I know.” Chuck looked worried.

Joe put his hand on his shoulder, “No worries, man. Take a break...write some stuff. What are the boys doin’? Maybe you can line up some gigs with them. We’ll get together in a couple of months and figure it all out. Besides, you need to let that hand heal. If you need somethin’, just let me know. You’re good, right?”

Chuck nodded. “Alright, man...yeah, I’m alright.” Chuck purposefully looked over the parking lot as he spoke, avoiding Joe’s eyes.

They found Libby working on her computer. “See ya, Libby.” Chuck waved from the doorway, then turned to join a group of roadies and artists across the parking lot behind the stage.

Joe kissed Libby’s forehead as he settled into the booth. “Chuck’s worried about management. I just don’t have it in me now,” Joe sighed heavily then rose to check the refrigerator for a drink. He brought the bottle of juice and two glasses to the table.

Libby studied his face as he poured. “Maybe he needs to know where your head is.”

Joe placed the bottle on the table and looked at Libby. “Well...” Joe picked up his glass and took a long sip, staring into his glass. “When I figure it out, I’ll let him know.” His gaze returned to Libby. “The only thing I can say...all I can think about now…is getting this movie done and spending time with you.”

What girl doesn’t dream of those words…from that mouth
, Libby thought.
I wonder how much longer he’ll feel that way?
Libby hugged Joe to be sure her thoughts stayed to herself.

The two hung out in the RV as long as possible, then Joe headed backstage. Joe flipped through channels on the TV while Libby finished her journal entries on her laptop.

At 2:45, the sound of cheering could be heard from the bandstand. Rick knocked on the screen door, “Joe, time to go. The local-yocals are leaving the stage.”

Joe turned off the TV, and Libby climbed out from behind the table, closing her laptop.

“Finish?” Joe asked.

“Not quite, but I can finish later. I just need to call Muggs.” Libby checked her watch. “She left a message earlier, she should be out of church soon. They had a youth program today.”

“Nah, go ahead and take care of it. Just come on up when you get done. We go on at 3:30, so we’ll just be hangin’ out backstage. Keeps the stage manager happy to see the next act ready to go on,” Joe chortled.

“Oh…okay, great! I won’t be long. Gonna grab a coffee, and I should be there in about ten minutes.” Libby kissed Joe and walked him to the door. He held onto her hand as long as possible as he walked through the doorway. From the bottom step, he kissed her palm and gave her a wink.

Libby smiled, then watched the two walk toward the stage. She saw Chuck hanging out with a group of people close to the backstage entrance where Joe and Rick were headed.

At 3:15 she hung up the phone and poured a cup of coffee. She left the RV, locking the door. As she slowly walked across the parking lot, she struggled to put the lid on her cup. Her keys fell to the ground. Picking up her keys and shoving them into her pocket, she began studying the lid, trying to figure out the problem. As she tried again to make the lid fit, she heard a noise behind her.

In an instant, a large, muscular brown arm bore down across her face and throat. Before Libby could yell, she felt her body being pulled backward, her feet desperately trying to maintain her ground while hot coffee burned her hand.

Across the parking lot, Chuck witnessed the man’s attack and sprang into a run as the man began pulling Libby backward.

As she stumbled backward with the man, the keys fell from her pocket. Instinctively, Libby tossed the coffee over her shoulder; and a deep voice screamed in agony. His arm released its grip on Libby, and in her effort to get away, her foot found the inside of big man’s knee. As she pushed herself forward, a large crack rang out; and he hit the ground in a fetal position, shrieking in pain.

Chuck reached Libby and half-carried her back to the RV and away from the man. A dark van charged from the shadows between two semi’s, screeching past the botched assault and sending two men who were walking through the gate scrambling for cover. Chuck looked up in time to see that the license plate on the van was missing.

“Libby! Libby! Oh shit! Are you okay?”

A very pale Libby slid down beside the RV steps, drawing her legs to her chest. The man writhed in pain as several of Chuck’s companions stood over him until security arrived.

Chuck leaned beside Libby and tried to talk to her. She stared blankly in the direction of the man on the ground, tears in her eyes. Her breathing was labored.

“Libby, can you hear me? Tell me you’re okay?” He spoke calmly and held her hand. “Libby, I need you to focus on what I’m saying. Libby...can you hear me?”

Security arrived moments later. The commotion broke Libby’s spell, and she looked into Chuck’s face, “What happened?”

“I think that guy tried to grab you,” he said quietly. “Are you okay? I think you need to go to the hospital.”

Libby shook her head and whispered, “No...help me into the RV, please.”

Chuck helped her to her feet and looked for her keys. Not seeing them, he turned toward the parking lot and saw them near the attacker. He tenderly sat Libby on the step, retrieved the keys, then helped her into the RV.

In the distance, the crowd roared as Joe and Rick took the stage. Chuck helped Libby to the sofa and kept an eye on the aftermath in the parking lot through the doorway.

A paramedic appeared at the door with his bag. Chuck waved him in. He sat on the floor in front of Libby, and when she saw him, she shook her head, “I’m fine.”

“Yes ma’am. I see that,” he looked at Chuck with wide eyes and shook his head. “I’m just going to check your pulse and a few things.” He took her hand and she jerked it away.

“Ma’am, I just need to…”

“I’m fine!” she insisted.

“That’s a nasty burn there, on your hand. Can I at least…”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“So, you’re refusing treatment? If so, I’m afraid you’re going to have to sign a release. Just checking vitals won’t take…”

“You got the paper?” Libby opened her eyes and looked directly at him for only a moment. “I’m fine.” The paramedic pulled a couple of packets of burn salve from his bag and handed them to Chuck. He pulled a form from his clipboard and a pen. Libby reached for it, signed her name and handed it back.

“I’ll need this information…” Libby struggled to stand, then fell back, tears streaming down her face, she turned away from both men, curling into a pillow on the couch. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Chuck took the clipboard and filled out whatever information he knew. He shrugged and handed it back to the man.

“Thanks. Hey, listen—I wouldn’t leave her alone. If things get worse—get her to an emergency room.”

Chuck nodded, “Thanks. Will do.”

As the police began to swarm, witnesses came forward in the parking lot to describe the driver and the van. The paramedic joined his partner who was working on the assailant, and the police arrested the large burly man who attacked Libby. Two policemen approached the RV door to question Libby and Chuck.

“Ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions: you able to answer?” the older of the two asked. Libby nodded as she lay on the pillow, although she looked dazed.

As he entered the RV she struggled to sit up, he asked “What can you tell us about this incident?” Chuck reached over and pulled her upright.

Libby looked blankly at the man. She tried to answer, searching for words. “I...well, I... was walking...and...he came from...behind.”

Chuck kept his hand on her arm as she sunk back into the sofa. “I saw the whole thing. She was walking across the parking lot, and that guy came from behind the back of her RV, grabbed her from behind. She fought back. He went down.”

Chuck noticed Libby’s color fading even more. “I should go get Joe.”

“No!” she insisted. “Chuck, promise me you won’t mention it. He’s got so much on his mind now, with the shoot tomorrow and everything. Please, just let this be.”

“Libby, that’s a bad idea!” Chuck insisted. She looked pitiful as she sat there, she still had not caught her breath and her eyes began to fill with tears, again.

“Chuck, please...” tears rolled down her cheek, “...let this go.”

“Ma’am, is there any reason why this guy would try to snatch you?” the policeman asked.

“No. I don’t know,” Libby replied. “Please, I need to lie down.”

The policeman replied, “How about let us get the paramedic back in here.” When Libby shook her head, declining, he again asked, “Are you sure we can’t convince you to go to the hospital? You’re not looking well, ma’am.”

“NO!” Libby replied sharply. “I’m sorry, I just want to lie down.” Chuck helped Libby to her feet and back to the bedroom. She lay across the bed as tears turned to sobs. As she lay there, he pulled off her sandals and covered her with a blanket.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said softly. He returned to the police in the living room. “Let’s step outside.”

They again asked him, “Do you have any idea why she would be a target?”

“Not really.” Chuck replied. “Maybe it was a crime of opportunity? Maybe he thought she was an artist? Who knows...go ask HIM,” Chuck replied angrily as he saw the man being lifted into the ambulance.

He provided the police with his contact information and signed his statement.

“We’ll be in touch. We’ll see what we can get off this guy,” the younger officer stated as they walked away.

Chuck returned to Libby’s side, trying to console her. She was curled into a ball as she cried softly into her pillow. Not knowing how to help, Chuck stroked her hair. “Libby, can we please get you to a hospital and have ‘em check you out?”

Libby shook her head in the pillow, “I’ll be alright. I just want to lie here a while.”

“How about some…ibuprofen or something?”

Libby pointed to the bedside table drawer. Chuck took aspirin from the bottle and handed them to her. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and returned, making sure she took the pills. As he stroked her hair and rubbed her back, she fell asleep. He closed the bedroom door behind him and sat on the sofa watching through the door for Joe’s return.

An hour later, Joe jogged across the parking lot. Chuck met him just outside the door. “We need to talk.” Chuck stopped Joe. “She didn’t want me to tell you, but...”

Joe saw Chuck was serious. He looked into the RV and pushed past Chuck.

Chuck grabbed his arm to stop him. “Wait a minute...” Joe stopped, looking sternly into Chuck’s face. “Someone attacked Libby as she was on her way to the stage. Joe’s face hardened: his back bristled. “She said she’s okay, but she doesn’t look well. I tried to get her to go to the hospital. She’s asleep now,” Chuck was speaking in hushed tones.

“She didn’t want me to tell you.” Chuck hesitated. Joe pushed past Chuck and stepped into the RV without touching the steps.

He quietly opened the door to the bedroom and saw Libby, white as a sheet through her tear-stained cheeks, asleep on the bed. He walked to her bedside and knelt on the floor, pushing a loose whisper of hair away from her face.

Joe sat beside her for over an hour. He watched her chest rise and fall with each breath. He could see her pulse beating rapidly in her neck.

* * *

Chuck was waiting in the RV doorway as Rick arrived with the last of their equipment. Joe heard mumbling but couldn’t understand what was being discussed. When he no longer heard conversation, looked out the window. The brothers were loading a car, trying to squeeze everything they possibly could into the trunk. As they contemplated the puzzle, another vehicle drove up beside them. Chuck saw Joe in the window.