The Boxer

I have not posted for a while, but I think some may enjoy this short story. I was thinking about all the turmoil that living in a band can have on some people, how it can ruin their lives and lead to awful things and I decided to write a short story about it. Let me know if you like it :)

The Boxer

(Formerly: Hank and Dan)

Hank and Dan stood on the stage, Hank with his guitar and Dan at the microphone and I stood at the piano. We basked in the applause that followed our song, Hank and Dan hugged each other tightly, the crowd applauded for the two brothers more. They bowed and I nodded my head towards the crowd and walked offstage. I played piano for the incredible duo known as Hank and Dan. We’d all been together since the beginning, with a keyboard, mic, and guitar in the garage of the two Ferris brothers. Ever since then I was always overshadowed by the two local celebrities, they chose the band name, they wrote the songs, they chose the style of the music and I just complied. I didn’t mind, I liked playing the piano and some people don’t even get an opportunity to tour with a band at all.

Hank and Dan walked offstage together, Hank slightly behind Dan. They strolled past me to the green room behind the theatre to celebrate, probably to get drunk which might end in a pleasant party or a angry brawl between the two brothers. It wasn’t always like this. We were a relatively new band playing in the tri-state area, taking the gigs we could get which have become more and more recent. In the past we just played at High School Proms and local gatherings. People liked us and for that we were all thankful. Our credo was to give back to the town that popularized us and never lose touch with our roots. We attended church weekly and were active in our youth groups. That was five years ago.

Hank would die before he went to any religious gathering and Dan is a strong advocate for teenage rights, being that they can do anything when and where they want it. I’m no angel, and I’ve made my mistakes in the past, and though I am less in touch with back home I like to think I keep a better image of myself, and perhaps that is why Mark Pearson will not be featured on any album covers, at least that is what our public image advisor had told us. Besides, I didn’t want to be seen strewn with punk clothing and demonic images. Perhaps there was a time I would go for that, but once I was up close to something so strange I decided I didn’t want part of it. So I peeked my head into the green room to bid my friends farewell as I went home. I saw the two on the couches, surrounded by women that they didn’t know the names of, drinking and joking. Hank saw me, smiled, and beckoned me inside. I stood just past the doorway.

“Oh, hey Mark. Have a drink. You played a good show!” Hank said.

“They loved us out there.” Dan said.

“Oh yeah. We didn’t do so bad.” I said.

“Well sit down, enjoy yourself.” Hank said.

I sat on the edge of the couch near the door. Things were quiet and the two just looked at each other and then to me. The girls in the room were silent as well, the silence was unbearable and seemed to last an eternity. Times like these made me wonder how I had friends like Hank and Dan. I opened my mouth to say goodbye and Hank interrupted me saying:

“Why are you being so quiet Mark?” in a second Dan replied,

“Just leave him alone. Have a drink Mark.” I didn’t want any.

“You don’t need to take one.” Hank said, sensing I was a little uneasy.

“You can do what you want.” Dan said glaring at Hank. It had already started, I saw the look that Dan would get lately they were going to fight and I needed to leave.

“Listen guys, I need to go. Jill’s at home with the baby and I should get back to her.” I said standing up. Dan grabbed my arm and pulled me down and Hank perked up.

“You need to wind down. You hardly ever spend time with us anymore. We are your friends.” Dan said, clearly angrier than he should be. I was quite intimidated now. I had never been so violently handled by Dan. Hank chimed in:

“Calm down Hank. He can do what he wants. You don’t have to stay here.” Hank said. Dan wouldn’t have that

“How can you say that Hank! He is our friend. We have stayed together for this long and I’m not going to let Jill get in the way.” He said. That was obviously crazy thinking. Jill didn’t approve of the brothers as my friends but we payed the bills and I had given up the lifestyle of the two.

“She’s his wife Dan!” Hank said defending me. I was thankful for his help but I just wanted to get out.

“Nobody has a real wife in this business.” Dan said. I did have a “real” wife and I wanted to go home to her. The ladies in the room had dispersed to the far end of the room and awkwardly chewed on the food laid out on the table against the wall.

“Guys, it’s alright, you are still very much my friends it’s just that. . .”

“That we aren’t important enough?” Dan asked. Even Hank looked at me questioningly.

“Of course the band is important, I’ve never missed our scattered practices and I drive both of you home all the time. I just want to go home tonight.” I said reassuringly but firm. Dan looked at me and just shook his head while Hank remained convinced of my loyalty. I stood up and walked away and closed the door behind me. I pulled my coat off of the hook next to the room and heard shattering glass within the green room.

“I guess it’s just one of those nights.” I said to myself. I quickly hurried to the exit of the theatre and left the world of the band.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why did I stay with them anyways? Hank was bearable but Dan was wretched after a show. If he was depressed, angry or drunk, the very worst of him always boiled through his fun loving self. I felt like they had changed since we left the town and though I would remain loyal, they became increasingly unbearable to be around.

The band had only gotten bigger after two years. We had sponsors and played nationally now. Hank and Dan became the icon of the modern folk rock life. I didn’t see my family as much as I’d liked to have but it was very exciting to be touring the nation. As for Hank and Dan, things were more or less the same. Hank was an advocate for harmony within the band while Dan constantly upset the balance of things. It wasn’t until we played at the Orpheum in Los Angeles that there was a major shift within the band. The show was played like our other ones, the crowd cheered and I did my incognito walk off the stage behind the bowing brothers. It was a big show and we were able to meet some of the fans afterwards. Jill was there and I rushed to her.

“Good show.” She said, kissing me.

“It was good.” I said smiling. Times were better when Jill was at the shows with me. I seemed almost protected by the assaults from Dan.

“How’s Beth? I know I haven’t been around lately.” I said.

“Phyllis is watching after here while we are here. You don’t have to worry. When we get home though we should all go out.” I nodded and looked back to the stage. The crowd was cheering for an encore, Hank and Dan had not come offstage yet and they yelled out to the crowd that they would do it.

“Oh, I better go play this encore.” I said, excitedly. Jill smiled. We didn’t get to do encores very often and I did like playing out music. I walked back on stage and the crowd cheered my name. I was fairly startled by that. I didn’t think people actually knew who I was. I gave a quick bow and sat at the keyboard. I played the keys of a song we had written and the brothers looked back and smiled at me and it felt like old times.

The lights went up and fireworks flew when the song was over. Hank and Dan beckoned me forward and we all bowed. The crowd cheered and we walked offstage together. I saw my wife and tried to rush over to her but Hank and Dan had pulled me out of the backstage area and into the lobby of the theater. I shrugged it off. I would see my wife soon, but the rush of exhilaration that followed the encore had filled my body. I had never met with the fans before and I was surprised to see how many knew my name and wanted my autograph. I looked at Hank and Dan who smiled and urged me to comply with the demands of the crowd. So I did.

After nearly two hours of signing my name, taking pictures and talking with the people who saw the show, I walked to the backstage area. My wife was gone, she probably went back to the hotel. The stage manager was cleaning things up. I sighed in content, it had never been this good. Being with Hank and Dan was enjoyable as well considering they weren't trying to kill each other. Hank and Dan walked in behind me laughing and Dan said, “Did you enjoy yourself?”  I examined him. He was calm, but his hands were twitching, and in the light I could see his eyes were bloodshot after he removed his sunglasses.

I nodded and said “Yes. Do you guys do this after every show?”

“Sometimes.” Hank answered. I nodded again.

“Hey, Mark. Do you want to go out with us? We are going to hit up some of the local clubs.” Dan said.

“Dan, it’s almost one o’clock in the morning.” I said.

“C’mon Mark. We’re Rock Stars, we don’t have a curfew.” He replied. I looked at Hank who was waiting for my answer. I could tell he wanted me to come, but I was exhausted from the past few hours.

“I’m sorry, Dan. I just want to go back to the hotel.” I said as meekly as possible. Dan frowned and glared at me.

“Fine. We let you come with us and meet the fans and this is how you repay us?” Dan said. I felt hurt. They let me come? Was I not allowed to come before? I stuttered for words. Hank was silent.

“Guys. . .I don’t know what to say. . .I just. . .” I started but no words came.

“He still only cares about his little family.” Dan said. That angered me.

“Stop assaulting my family.” I said.

“I’m sorry, did we offend you?” Dan said.

“Hank. . .” I looked at him for approval. Dan shouldn’t be like this. “Just let me go.” I started walking out but Dan blocked my way.

“You aren’t leaving until we solve this.” he said.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked him. He didn’t like that. He raised his fist and punched me in the face. Right in the right eye. Hank pulled Dan back. “Dan!” I heard him say. And then Dan tumbled to the ground, clasping his heart. “Dan?” I heard Hank say. Dan had passed out.

“Get somebody. Call 911!” I yelled to Hank. He quickly started to dial the numbers on his phone. His bloodshot eyes were still open as he started dying on the ground. “What have you done now Dan?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan woke up in a hospital bed with Hank sitting across the room. I stood by the doorway, arms crossed staring at him. He realized his surroundings and stared back at me.

“What were you thinking?!” I asked him. He didn’t answer.

“Hmm?” I questioned further. He didn’t say anything.

“They found all sorts of illegal crap in your body. Why? What were you thinking? Are you an idiot? Did you think about how many people this would actually affect? Your brother? The tour? Me?” He still didn’t answer. Hank just looked down, ashamed of his brother.

“Well, I hope you learned your lesson.” I said, then I paused. “I’m tired of this Dan. I have to act like your mother because you are too stupid to do the right thing,” I said. I exhaled a little. He didn’t make eye contact with me. I couldn’t believe it. I grimaced and spun around, disappearing into the hallway to deal with Dan’s medical papers. Behind me I heard sobbing, either from Hank or Dan. I did feel bad about the things I said, but they were the truth. How could Dan have been such an idiot. On the television in the lobby a news-reporter spoke.

“Early this morning, Dan Ferris, of the musical duo Hank and Dan, had a heart attack at just the ripe age of twenty-five. When he made it to the hospital he was successfully saved but trace amounts of cocaine were found in his system. The Los Angeles Police Department are searching the tour bus that the band uses and the hotel they are currently staying at.” I heard that and slammed the clipboard I had in my hands onto the counter in my anger. Now the press knew, what happens now? They would be investigating the hotel and I’m sure Dan had a fix hidden there. He would go to jail and our career would be over. I cursed under my breath. We had all done stupid things but between the three of us this was the absolute worst. I wanted to go and reciprocate Dan’s gesture to my face. I finished filling out the forms they had handed me and I called Dan’s actual mother and told her of his misfortune and she asked to speak with him. I walking into his silent room and handed the phone to him and stepped out as he tearfully spoke to his mother.

I called my wife and told her to meet me at the hospital’s cafeteria. I needed her more than anything at the moment. I went to the small cafeteria and waited for Jill. Getting away from the hospital somehow separated me from the stress of Dan. I tried to let the anger slowly sink out so I could think clearly. I had a small coffee in front of me and Jill texted me that she was on her way. I started to relax a little bit and sipped my beverage. But nearly half an hour passed and Jill did not show up. I texted her nearly seven times but there was no answer. That was when the stress and the fear started to flood back into my mind. Where was she? I thought as I stood up and paced the cafeteria. Then a doctor burst into the door.

“Mark Pearson?” he asked.

“Yes?” I asked.

“You’re wife is in intensive care, come with me.” The doctor said. My stomach plummeted and died.

“What. . .what happened?” I asked as I walked with him down the corridors.

“It seems a patient discharged himself from this hospital and as he drove away he hit her vehicle as she pulled into the parking lot.” The doctor said. Horror filled my  mind, and then anger.

“Who was the patient?” I asked. I already knew.

“I shouldn’t say. . .” The doctor said. We had reached the door to my wifes room.

“Was it Dan? Dan Ferris?!” I asked.

The doctor looked down and said “Yes.”

“Well where is he?” I asked, tears streaming from my face and anger in my voice.

“He sustained little injuries, but he is in the custody of the police.” The doctor told me.

I tried to keep my composure and dignity, but it was becoming too hard.

“We are very sorry, but we fear your wife won’t make it. You’ll need to come in and see her. . .” The doctor said. I looked at him and the rest of his words were a silent, they phased out of my mind. I turned to the door and saw my wife, crippled on the hospital bed. I couldn’t bear the image. She was gone when I got in there, she must have just died because the machine rang out a fateful tone of dismay. I passed the night sobbing and angry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been nearly six years since my wife passed. My daughter Beth was now in the second grade and I had quit the band life. I worked at a local insurance agency. It was quiet and frankly I enjoyed it more often than I enjoyed being in the band. The days merged together, wake up, get Beth ready, bring her to school, go to work, come home, relieve the babysitter of her duties and spend the night with Beth. We were happy together. Occasionally we would visit her mother, which was always a sad time. I had never quite come to terms with Dan. I had forgotten about him and his brother. I blocked those events out of my mind. That night, the courtroom, everything around that event. I just wanted to live the rest of my life normally. The small town we grew up in became my home once more, and since I was such a minor role in the band I was never hounded by reporters like Hank was. Dan was sentenced to prison for life after killing Jill and convicted with possession of illegal substances. After Dan was taken away, Hank was questioned heavily by the press and was shamed by his brothers decision. Instead of continuing with his musical career he took his money and drank it all away. Once he stopped by the town to see his mother who died a couple years back. He looked dreadful and I did pity him for the mistakes of his brother. He left and I didn’t see him again.

It wasn’t until Dan’s funeral that I feel like I finally reconciled my grief. Dan had hung himself in his prison cell and I had been invited to attend the funeral. I didn’t want to go at first but I thought of Hank. He had invited me with an email and I felt I owed it to him. It was being held in our town, it only took a moment to get to the church. Not many people came to Dan’s funeral at all. I thought that maybe all of our fans would rally for their hero, but I guess it didn’t work like that. During the service I sat and thought about the good times I had with both the brothers and wondered how it all went wrong. Why did I do this at all? I thought. Everything seemed to be in slow motion once the service ended. I stood, wiping my eyes, and went for the exit when Hank stopped me.

“Mark, I. . .I want to play one last song. . .with you. . .Here at his funeral.” He said. I looked at Hank. I hadn’t played the piano since the night of the accident.

“I don’t know Hank. . .” I started.

“Come on Mark. Please, for me.” Hank pleaded and I thought about it. Why should I play a song for the man who killed my wife? “I won’t ask for anything ever again, I’ll leave you alone.” He said. His eyes were full of longing and light. I hadn’t seen Hank for a while but I didn’t want to extinguish the light he held.

“Fine.” I said. I walked back to the small stage at the little christian church we were in. We rolled out the piano and a microphone. Hank brandished his acoustic guitar and readied ourselves.

“Which song?” I said, uninterested. Hank looked back and thought for a moment. We both gave a short smile and nodded.

“Hello, everybody. Me and Mark here are going to play you one of our old favorites, we didn’t write it, which is why it’s kind of good.” Hank said. The crowd chuckled a little bit and we started to play.

The crowd was lulled by our playing as were we. I couldn’t help but think of my life and our journey as a band while we played and it made me weep as I played the piano. The crowd remained mostly silent but swayed to the beat and softly sang along with the chorus. The song ended and I stood to walk off the stage but the crowd cheered. Hank stepped back and shook my hand, which turned into an embrace.

“Thank you.” he whispered. I nodded and hugged him more. He smelled strongly of alcohol, yet the moment was fine.

After the crowd died down I walked off and out of the small chapel. I stepped out into the afternoon sun and walked home. It was good to play again, but I can’t say it left me happier, or healed. Things still felt the same but the gap within my life, the hole left by Dan was closing. I walked down the sidewalk, the lyrics of the song in my head. We didn’t write it, but Paul Simon’s words rang within my brain. And I entered the house to my daughter.

“Now the years are rolling by me

They are rockin' evenly

I am older than I once was

And younger than I'll be; that's not unusual.

Nor is it strange

After changes upon changes

We are more or less the same

After changes we are more or less the same”

~The Boxer, Paul Simon.