Losing My Rythem

Every light in the house was on and the noises coming from inside sounded just like those one would expect to hear at a party.  This had to be the right place.  I tucked my drumsticks into the large pocket on the inside of my coat and knocked on the bright red door.  No one answered.  I tried again.  This time the door swung open so fast that it banged against the wall of the entryway.  Good thing I wasn’t in its way or I would have been knocked off of the steps of the narrow walkway.

            The man in the doorway had not been expecting the door to fly open like it had, and it was difficult for him to stand up straight while so intoxicated.  The drink in his hand sloshed as he struggled to keep his balance.  He recovered quickly and stood there with what was left of the drink in his hand, a smile on his face, and red rosy cheeks.

            I did not recognize this man.  Was I at the wrong party?  My invitation had been so last minute and some would say it was just a whim from Marla the hostess to invite me at all.   I wasn’t even sure why I was there.  I was no one of importance, just a local girl that worked downtown by the courthouse and played drums in my Dad’s garage for an alternative rock band with some kids I had gone to high school with.

            “Well now, who are you?” slurred the intoxicated man in the doorway as he leered at me.

            I reached in my jacket pocket, pulled out the drumsticks, and held them up.  It was easier to pretend I was with the band than to admit that I wasn’t sure why I was there, to begin with.

            “Oh, I see,” he said and you could hear the disappointment in his voice.   He moved back out of the way and waved me into the house with a dramatic sweep of his hand, all the time trying to keep his drink from sloshing out of the glass.

            “The entertainment has arrived,” he declared as I walked past him into the house, announcing me like I was a stripper even though I was fully clothed and dressed in black jeans.

Apparently, my looks didn’t seem to be helping my case, and that was evident when he playfully swatted my butt when I walked by.  Ugh!  I hated when men acted like that.  Being drunk is no excuse for being vulgar.  But rather than cause a scene I let it go and continued into the house.

I looked around the living room and was surprised to see a few people I knew.  They were also in a local band but their group played country music.

“Surprised to see you guys here,” I said walking over to the other band members.

“Hey, Casey, what are you doing here?” asked their singer.

 “I don’t really know,” I said honestly.

“We got asked to come but no one can find the lady that invited us.”

As we stood there talking the rest of my band members showed up, much to my surprise.  I hadn’t told them I was going to a party because I didn’t want to hear them giving me slack about hanging out on the snobby side of town.  I learned long ago that it was just easier to stick with people more like me, fewer problems that way, fewer expectations.

            “Casey, you got my message!  I’m so glad you made it,” said Marla, the hostess.

“Yes, thank you for inviting me.  But I’m not quite sure what my band members are doing here?” I said, a little confused.

“I thought you might feel more comfortable knowing some people here so I invited them for you,” Marla said.

“For me?  I don’t understand.”

What was she talking about?  This was her party.  Why was she inviting people so I would feel more at ease?

“Casey, there is something I need to tell you,” Marla said.  “I didn’t really want to get into it here but I guess I don’t have a choice now.”

“Is something wrong with my Dad?  What is going on?”  I said, getting more worried by the second.

“No, sweety, it’s nothing like that.  Your Dad is fine.  I talked to him this morning.”

“You talked to my Dad?  Why would you talk to my Dad?  What did you two talk about?”

“You.”

“What?”

“We talked about you.”

“Cut the crap!  What do you want from me?”

Marla reached out and took my hands in hers.

“Casey, I’m your Mother,” Marla said softly.

“My mother died during childbirth!”  I said yanking my hands away from her.  

“Casey…”

“This isn’t funny!  I’m out of here!”  I said spinning around and running towards the door.

How could she do that?  It had always been just me and Dad.  Why was this woman doing this to me?

“Casey, wait,” I heard behind me.  It was Eric, the guitar player from my band.

Nope, I wasn’t waiting for anyone.  The front door was already open so out I went.  As soon as my feet hit the sidewalk I ran as fast as I could.  I had to escape this place.  The ground was covered in snow that had been shoveled into piles along the walk and there were patches of ice everywhere but I didn’t care. I ran.  I ran until I felt like my lungs were going to explode inside my chest.  I wanted the pounding of my heart and the blood rushing past my ears to drown out Marla’s words, but slowly the reality of it was settling in.  

“If she is my Mother, then where has she been all my life?  And why did Dad lie to me?” I screamed out into the cold dark night.

Tears immediately began to roll down my face.  My Dad lied to me.  He told me she died when I was born.  Why did he do that?  He must have known that she was going to try to find me someday.  Why did he lie to me?

My cell phone rang.  Of course, it was Dad.

“What the hell do you want?”  I yelled at my phone.

My whole life had been a lie.  How many more lies was he going to try to peddle my way tonight?  Hadn’t I had enough?

 “Nope, not talking to you,”  I said, pushing him to voicemail.

 My cell phone rang again.  It was Eric.

“What?” I answered on the second ring, still trying to catch my breath from running.

“Casey, are you alright?” Eric asked.  “What happened?  I saw you fighting with the hostess and then saw you run out.”

Oh good, Eric and the rest of the band weren’t in on it, she still had some friends out there, maybe her whole life wasn’t a lie after all.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“You don’t know if you are alright or you don’t know what happened?”

“I’m not alright,” I said.

“Where are you?  I am coming to get you.”

“Second and Hamilton.”

“How did you get that far? That’s more than six miles away.”

“I ran.”

“Casey, promise me you will stay right there and wait for me to come to get you.”

“Eric, please hurry, it’s really cold out here.”

I sat down on the planter box at the corner and waited for Eric.  Snow began to fall in little flakes all around me.  What was I going to do now?  If this was true then my Dad had been lying to me my entire life.  Why didn’t he just tell me my Mom left us?

Eric pulled up and in the passenger seat was Marla.  What was she doing here?  Why did he bring her?

“What do you want from me?” I asked angrily when she opened the car door.

“Casey, I just want to get to know you,” she said.

Eric stood there with his mouth wide open listening to our conversation.

“You had twenty-two years to get to know me.  You lost your chance!  I don’t want anything to do with you!”  I yelled at her before turning around and walking away.

“Casey, come back,” Eric called after me.

I held my middle finger up in the air in response and kept walking.  Traitor!  That’s what you get for bringing her here with you!

My whole life felt like a lie and now I was never going to get my rhythm back.