Rocked Up

We share a laugh and part ways. I make my way down the steps to the backstage area. Everyone is trying to make eye contact. There is a certain pressure—all of these folks will tell the story of what you were like. I smile and say hello, but I keep on walking and remind myself that the show isn’t really over until you close your hotel room door. It’s just a different act.

I round a corner and see that this act of the show will have a challenge. Ronald Ramsey is sitting in a chair speaking to a small group. He waves his arms expressively and takes up more space than he should. The group is all nodding in a yes motion like a bunch of bobble heads.

“There’s the man!” Ronald shouts and motions to me.

“Ronald.” I address him with respect, but without reverence. “What brings you to Vegas?” I ask.

“I came to see the last show of the tour. Sold-out, very impressive. The numbers from this tour have been great, truly fantastic.” Ronald speaks directly to me, the crowd around him beginning to thin out, with only the suits that work with him remaining. Ronald flattens his tie and presses on. “I think about that kid I found in that alley, and boy look at you now. Hasn’t he come a long way?” Ronald asks his henchmen, but doesn’t wait for an answer. Switch walks in and takes a seat.

“Steve, good to see ya.” I never can tell if Ronald really can’t remember Switch’s name, or if it’s some form of dominance.

Switch raises his glass and dips his head, but doesn’t say a word.

“So, the tour’s over. After a little break let’s get back in the studio. Let’s keep the energy up, now is not the time to start slowing down,” Ronald’s voice fills the room, even though he’s looking in the vanity mirror as he speaks.

I consider telling him his days of controlling my career are over, that he can sue me all he wants, but I’m leaving and I’m taking his daughter with me. I smile at the thought, but I don’t want to be careless, this is Lael’s father after all. For now, I will play my cards safely.

“This is what we do,” I answer casually.

“Good, I look forward to hearing some demos. I have some other business.” Ronald swings his chair around and stands as gracefully as an old, tall round man can.

“I’m glad we can have a working relationship like this Brad, really. I mean it’s truly the best thing for both of us. To think how close we were to ending it all in Denver. It’s much better this way. When I gave Lael the ultimatum to leave the band or I would end you, she made the right decision.” Ronald’s words hang in the air, he is smiling a devilish grin.

She lied to me. I know she was trying to protect me but I’m still angered, I’m hurt, I feel betrayed. I fight to keep my emotions under control, but my hatred for Ronald is almost impossible to conceal. Thankfully, he takes it upon himself to leave.

“Really Brad, going from a homeless orphan to leading one of the most successful touring bands in the world…. I’ve done a terrific job with you.” Ronald walks by me and slaps me on the back. “You don’t have to thank me, just hold up your end of the deal and we’re fine.” Ronald leans in close, so only I can hear his words. “Lael won’t keep it, she will make the right decision.” He leaves, and his minions follow.

I can feel my blood boil. He’s talking about my unborn child. Why didn’t Lael tell me he knew? Why didn’t Lael tell me about this ultimatum? My relationship with Ronald is going to change forever now and I’m looking forward to it.

“Why can that man never get my name right?” Switch asks.

I sit next to Switch on the opposite end of the couch, trying to shake off finding out that Lael lied to me about why she left the tour. Calvi walks in.

“Who died?” Calvi asks.

“You just missed Ronald, he gave our marching orders to head back into the studio,” I answer.

“Oh goodie,” Calvi says, then takes a sip of from a large tiki mug with smoke billowing out.

I push myself to the edge of the couch and speak soberly, “You know fellas, I want you to know that no matter what happens you are my brothers. One day we will be free of Ramsey Records; I don’t know when that will happen, but that day won’t be the end, that will be the beginning.”

I stand up and give Calvi a one-armed hug. I can hear his drink sizzling.

“Take care man, talk soon.” I pat him on the back and then look at Switch, who is standing up.

“Come here ya son of a bitch,” I pull Switch in and we hug it out.

“I know you’re only looking out for the band, but I need you to relax with the whole Lael thing. She makes me happy,” I say to both of them.

“You sure you know what you are doing man?” Calvi asks with an odd tone to his voice.

“I am, I want her in my life and I need you fellas to be okay with that.”

Silence hangs in the air.

“I’ve never seen you like this man, I am happy you found someone. It would be better if she wasn’t Ronald’s daughter, but what are ya going to do? I wish you the best,” Calvi says though I can’t tell if it’s sincere or not.

I look at Switch for a reaction.

“What he said,” Switch says, and points to Calvi.

“Well alright then. I will love ya and leave ya. And if you don’t mind, I’m stealing the bus,” I say as I walk toward the exit.

Switch leans in and inspects Calvi’s strange cocktail, then says, “Take it, I’m sick of that damn bus.”

“Take care fellas.” I wave as I walk out the door.

I’m in the back parking lot and see ol’ George, drunk as a skunk and wearing one of those visor hats gamblers wear.

“Hey George, looks like you’re heading back to the tables, I was hoping for a lift to LA,” I tell him, knowing damn well he won’t be driving me anywhere.

“My shift is over son, here’s the keys, take good care of her,” George replies in a drunken voice as he tosses me the keys.

That was easy.

I catch them and look at the massive bus. I don’t even drive a car. George doesn’t wait for a response and heads back to the casino. I look at the busy Vegas street I have to reverse into and my heart sinks.

“Oh boy,” I say out loud to myself.

I step into the bus and close the door. After some fumbling I get the engine started. It occurs to me I have no idea what Lael’s address is, so I pull out my phone and send a text.

I’ve stolen the bus, I’m driving it to your place, address please

She responds right away:

What!? Stop stealing vehicles, you’re going to kill yourself. Take a taxi!

I smile and text back:

Too late—on my way



She texts:

Please don’t get into an accident. 150 Nagle Ave, Sherman Oaks

I begin backing up. I lay on the horn and don’t let go. I’m being yelled at and drinks are being thrown at the bus, but I don’t care. At least I’m not running over anyone.

After a twelve-point turn, a hundred cars honking at me, and a serious traffic jam, I’m finally pointed in the right direction and on my way. I’m smiling like a mad man driving down the strip in a bus, on my way to see Lael. God I miss her, I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I pull up with this thing.