Solo

He knows it’s his one last chance to make it up to you.

Sounds desperate.

I’ll tell you this; deep down, he’s a good guy.

They all are.

He is. He struggles every single day. He craves. Look at him over there. All the sweating is not just from this heat.

. . . .

He’s got a lot of love for you and your sister.

Love?

Yes, Love. Love is complicated all around—twisted humanness, flaws and scars so deep, it would take an excavator to dig out the meaning of it all.

I guess.

You should rest.

I really don’t want to be here. This is just like him. All this excess. I just want to be gone.

Then go.

. . . .

You love him, you’ll support him.

Who’s gonna support me? I’m a little sick and tired of supporting him only to have him skip out on rehab, or relapse. What’s the point? It never sticks.

I think if he has the will and the support of his loved ones and a killer sober coach, he could be free.

I just don’t know if I believe it. I’ve been disappointed too many times.

Give him a shot. In the meantime, I’ve eaten way too many butter cookies. I’m going to sleep. You should too. But first, hit the shower. You’re a little funky.

Shower?





Perplexed


How Rutherford got

a tour bus

in Ghana

with four bunk beds

a pullout sofa

a fish tank

and satellite TVs

I cannot begin

to fathom,

but the fact

that there’s a shower

makes my life

right now.





Texts to Storm


1:01 am

I’m pissed at you

because your warning came a day late, and a dollar 1:01 am

short. Phone and Wi-Fi service here sucks! I got your messages after 1:02 am

the rolling stone had already shown up. So, I guess, thanks for nothing.

1:02 am

It’s a nightmare. And, I haven’t even met her yet.

The whole reason I’m 1:02 am

even here, and I keep getting these roadblocks.

I can’t get no flippin’ satisfaction.





Delayed


1:03 am

This is an auto-response.

The text message to Storm

Morrison was delayed.





The next morning


I look out

the window

and see Rutherford

and Uncle Stevie

kicking soccer balls

with the kids

as the camera

and Birdie

watch.





Unsettling


On the walk to school

Sia suddenly starts gagging, then lets go of my hand

and throws up all over

my flip-flops.

I carry her back to

the bus

to rest,

but halfway there we hear

a pulsing wave of music,

a loud, fast tremolo coming

from the school, so we turn around and she jumps down, leading me back to

a very familiar sound.





Captured


The entire school

of students

and teachers

plus people

in the village

are gathered

in the church SLASH school

cheering

and watching

as Rutherford Morrison

drops electric bombs

in the air

like he’s Jimi Hendrix

and Konko

is Woodstock.





Track 10: The Star Spangled Banner (LIVE)


ROCKER: JIMI HENDRIX DATE: AUGUST 18, 1969 VENUE: WOODSTOCK MUSIC AND ART FAIR, WOODSTOCK, NY

Rutherford said his dad

once saw Jimi play the guitar with his teeth, and that he actually set his guitar on fire once, which helped set his career on fire.

But most people agree that the defining moment

in Jimi Hendrix’s life was when he stood on stage in a blue-beaded leather jacket with a red scarf at the Woodstock Music and Art Fair in front of 40,000 people after being awake for three days, and played an amped-up, distorted, electric guitar solo of “The Star Spangled Banner,”

which the editors of Guitar World called

the number one greatest performance ever.

EVER!





Music Lessons


When he finishes, all the kids want to know how to play the strings, make the guitar sing and reverb

like he just did.

Sia

climbs

into his lap touches his face and traces

the lines

on his forehead and cheeks.

Old, she says.

He tickles her in a way I remember him doing to me and Storm

a long time ago.

He allows Sia to strum the guitar, gets the kids pumped up

with a hope he’ll never be able to fulfill.

This, I know.





Conversation


Are you jealous of your father? Joy asks.

No, I just don’t want him to get their hopes up.

That is what they need, to have their hopes up.

. . . .

You seem distracted.

I’m angry. It shouldn’t be this hard. I just want to meet my mother. I JUST WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE

AND FIND HER.

I understand. I’m sorry that it’s not easier. Sometimes the things that are good in life take work. And patience.

I’ve been patient. I’m almost eighteen years old, and I have no idea what I’m doing. Being here doesn’t even make sense anymore. I thought I could escape the madness, but it just followed me. I can’t stay here. I’m going to find her on my own.





The Elders


Five men

with graying beards and one woman

in a colorful kente dress sit in

a circle

allowing

Rutherford Morrison to charm them

into letting him interrupt

their lives

with his annoying camera and reckless attitude.

They applaud

his empty promises of reality TV fame, welcome

his Hennessy

and iPad gifts, and wish him

well in his

rock ’n’ roll comeback.

But, Dad, what about the dormitory? I ask, loud enough for everyone to hear me, even the elder who was nodding off. Didn’t you say you would build a dormitory for the teachers, with a cafeteria and showers for everyone in the village to use?

The gentleman will build a dormitory, so that the rains will not halt school, the one woman present echoes, standing up and clapping as the other elders follow suit.

At first, he is silent, then he kinda nods his head, looks at the camera, and says, Yes, I will build it. I will build the best dormitory possible for the village of . . . of . . .

Konko, says the camera guy.

And for the first time since he’s arrived, I laugh.





Acting


If that’s the price I gotta

pay to regain your trust

and love, I’ll pay it, he says,

giving me a hug

right in front

of the camera.





All day


in the burning sun, the camera is in our faces

like an invader from planet Hollywood.

I try to ignore, but it captures every word, each drop of sweat, every bite of food.

A little obnoxious while we feed our faces, don’t you think? Can we take a break from the filming now?

He pops up zooms in

and out

as Rutherford, Birdie, and Uncle Stevie prance around like the Three Stooges leading a parade of innocents.





By day’s end


the camera

is still here along with

the last streams of sunlight

to close out the day, and the kids can’t get enough.

The smiles

on their faces as they perform for the camera, singing, twirling, dancing, and jumping around say it all:

happiness, raw like unfiltered honey.

They ask for playbacks so they can

see themselves for the first time.

They hover

around

camera guy’s monitor and watch

their lives

unfold in laughter and hugs.





Mirrors


Kwame Alexander, Mary Rand Hess's books