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Date Posted: 22:07:15 10/11/09 Sun
Author: Page
Subject: The return of Jay Carey >>>>>
In reply to: Page 's message, "Fall fell" on 21:38:24 10/11/09 Sun

Excerpt from Carey On
©2009 by Juli Morgan
Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not constitute publication

Pale ale, Jay reflected, left a lot to be desired, especially when one craved a stiff shot of Jack Daniel’s, neat. It was, however, alcoholic, and that was what counted. He no longer trusted himself to drink anything stronger than beer, knowing that one shot of whiskey would lead to twenty, and before he knew it, he’d be well on his way to oblivion. Beer cut the craving, and since he wasn’t fond of the taste, he had no desire to go overboard with it.

Oblivion, though – that sounded nice. More than an alcoholic buzz, he craved the peace of his muscles growing heavy, his mind slowing to a crawl, and the world rocking along just fine without any input from him. What a relief it would be to take just a small hit off a pipe filled with smack, to lose himself in staring for hours at nothing at all, his emotions and feelings suppressed so deep he didn’t have to deal with them. That feeling of complete calm, that’s what he really wanted. He took a deep breath, and banished those thoughts from his head. The seven days it had taken him to clear the heroin from his system were etched in jagged, black grooves into his memory, and he had no desire to repeat them; hellish days when he’d wished for death, begged for it, to quiet the insane craving his body had for the drug. Too, now that he’d regained control of his life, he was determined not to lose it again, no matter how messed up his life had become.

He raised the glass and took a healthy swallow, wiping the thin foam from his upper lip. The pub was starting to fill up with people searching for a hot bite, or a cold pint, and Jay slouched lower in his chair, hoping to remain unrecognized. For almost a year, he’d made sure his travels took him to places where Shadowed Knight wasn’t even a blip on the radar, and where the name Jay Carey meant nothing special. Two weeks ago, he’d ventured into London, and had managed to fly below the radar with no one knowing he’d even been there. Even incognito, being in London had been surreal, with too many people, too much noise. He had been more than glad to leave, especially since there was nothing left for him there.

Nairn, the Scottish village in which he now found himself, wasn’t London by any means, but he was still wary of being found out. If it wasn’t for Adam’s farm being just down the road, Jay wouldn’t have been there at all. But after leaving London, he’d felt an overwhelming urge to see Adam, to talk to him, so he’d boarded the sleeper car to Inverness, and had then traveled overland to Nairn.

It had taken a kind of courage Jay hadn’t had in quite some time to go up to Adam’s house and knock on the door, only to be told by the caretaker that Mr. Greene wasn’t in residence. Frustrated, Jay had thanked the old man, and had gone into the village where he checked into a small inn. He still wasn’t sure why he was hanging around. Probably because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.

Two women, still dressed in the conservative skirts and blouses they’d worn to work, approached Jay’s corner, and he drew back further into the shadows. They didn’t even glance his way, though, but headed toward the jukebox on the back wall. Jay breathed an inaudible sigh of relief, and listened with half an ear to their pleasant Scots burr as they discussed which records to play. They deposited their coins into the machine, and in a moment, the pub was filled with the familiar guitar riff that began Smoke on the Water. The women made another selection, and then returned to their table, leaving Jay in the seclusion he wanted.

He took small sips of his beer, enjoying the Deep Purple tune. For the first time in a very long time, his hands itched to hold a guitar, to feel the strings bite into his fingers, to make music. There was no pressure to create anything new, and he wasn’t even sure he could come up with new music. No, he just wanted to play, and play for a long time. All of his guitars were still in the house in London; he could go back and get at least a couple, and then go somewhere where he could just sit on a rock in the open and play. He thought he might start with Smoke on the Water.

Caught up in his thoughts, he hardly noticed when the Deep Purple song faded out, and the next record clunked onto the turntable. But when it started playing, he turned his head toward the jukebox, transfixed by the music. That was one damn fine guitar intro, and he nodded his head in admiration of both the playing, and of the production that gave it such a rich sound. It was a song he’d not heard before, and he wondered who it was. The style was familiar, and he racked his brain, trying to place a name to the guitar. In the next instant, though, all thoughts of the guitar player were wiped from his head as his wife’s voice soared out of the jukebox and stabbed him right in the heart.

He sat back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest, as though that could ward off the assault on his senses. Of course, it didn’t work, and every word she sang found their mark, just as though she were standing right in front of him.

“If you’re going to leave me, then go ahead and leave.
Stop haunting my memories, and give me some peace.”


Jaw clenched, Jay could do nothing but sit frozen in his chair, listening to Katie berate him for what he’d done to her. He was under no illusions that the song hadn’t been written for him; and even though he knew he deserved it, he still wished he could get up and pull the plug on the jukebox, ending the torture.

“I still see you, I still hear you; there are times I can almost touch you,
But then I wake up alone, and you’re still not here.”


He closed his eyes, and hoped the song would be over soon. A small measure of relief came when Katie stopped singing, and Zach ripped into a blistering guitar solo. Jay found that he could breathe again if he didn’t hear her voice.

“Hell of a song, innit?”

Jay’s eyes popped open at the voice that overrode the music, and saw Adam sitting opposite him, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Where’d you come from? Your caretaker told me you weren’t here.”

“I got in last night, and figured from the description it was you who’d come round.” Adam stretched his legs out in front of him, and crossed his feet at the ankles. “So today I came into town and started looking for you. I can’t believe you’re still using the name Ben Dover as a cover.”

Jay couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s grin. “It was either that or Mike Hunt. Can’t let all those good names we used go to waste.”

Still grinning, Adam summoned a waitress, and ordered a pint before turning back to Jay. “So, what do you think of Katie’s song?”

Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. There were no words to articulate what he thought of it, so he side stepped the question. “New, is it?”

“Yeah, from their last album. And I do mean their last. Katie’s left Whistlepig, did you know?”

Startled, Jay looked at Adam, and saw the truth written there, along with accusation. “No.” He sighed and shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Thanks, luv.” Adam accepted a mug from the waitress, and handed her a few crumpled bills. He took a long draught of the beer, and sighed with pleasure before pinning Jay with a hard stare. “Where the bloody hell have you been, anyway?”

“Honestly? I don’t really remember.” With a deep feeling of thanksgiving, Jay heard the Whistlepig song come to an end. “India for a time, then down in the Caribbean. I was in North Africa for a bit. Just here and there.”

Adam was still staring. “And did it help?”

Jay looked him in the eye. “No. Not until just recently.”

After a moment, Adam nodded, and picked up his mug again. They drank in silence for a bit, and Jay felt his frazzled nerves start to calm. Adam’s appearing out of thin air while Katie’s song was pouring into his ears had made him distinctly jumpy. The beer was doing its job, though, and he started to relax.

Adam’s beer was almost gone when he looked up at Jay again. “I’m guessing you came here for more than the beer. And I don’t think it was because of the golf course.” Both men snorted with laughter, remembering their shared disdain of the game. “So I reckon we should probably talk. Come on, we’ll go to my house.”

“Maybe not,” Jay hedged. “I don’t want to barge in on An Li.” In fact, he’d do just about anything not to have to see An Li Greene ever again, since he couldn’t imagine a more unpleasant individual. And much as he’d like to see Samantha and Lily, he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with children, either.

But Adam was shaking his head. “No worries, she’s not here.” He got to his feet, and inclined his head toward the door. “So, let’s go, alright?”



The farmhouse hadn’t changed a bit in the two years since Jay had been there. Adam had installed a new kitchen and up to date plumbing when he’d bought it, but had left the rest in its original rustic condition. Unlike Jay, Adam was enchanted with the thought of “roughing it,” and accepted the drafty windows, the patchy roof, and uncertain heat as charming, and proof of his commonality with regular people. Jay knew that last was utter bullshit, since a bottle of Adam’s shampoo would feed a family of four for a month, but he’d never tried to burst Adam’s bubble. If he wanted to act outwardly as if he didn’t have money, then so be it.

At least the kitchen was warm, and full of the smell of the vegetable beef stew the caretaker’s wife had left simmering on the stove. Jay declined Adam’s offer of another beer, so Adam turned back to the stove. In a few moments, the warm scent of coffee brewing mixed with the stew, and made the kitchen a cozy oasis.

“Here you are.” Adam set a steaming bowl of stew in front of Jay, and took a seat across the table. “Eat up. You’ve lost a lot of weight since I saw you last.”

“Mm-hm,” Jay agreed, his mouth full of the most delicious vegetable beef stew he’d ever put into his mouth. He swallowed, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll gain it all back now.”

“Oh.” Adam’s mouth stretched into a delighted smile, and he nodded at Jay. “That’s good, then. You don't...you don't crave it?"

"No." Jay shook his head. "My body doesn't crave it. It's the feeling I got from it that's hardest to shake. That calm, that oblivion. I still want that, but I'll just have to find other ways to achieve it now."

"I'm glad." Adam's voice was matter of fact.

"Actually, I am, too." Jay was making headway on his stew, but he couldn’t ignore another aroma in the kitchen, faint, but still present under the beef broth and coffee smells. “Hey.” He put his spoon down. “Is it just me, or do you smell buns?”

“I do!” Adam looked perplexed. “I’ve looked all over, though, and I can’t find any.”

“Did you check the oven?”

Adam gave Jay a look of exasperation. “She wouldn’t have left buns in the oven. They’d burn.”

Repressing a sigh, Jay shook his head. “I didn’t say the oven was still on. But maybe she put them there to keep them warm.” Adam’s exclamation of delight upon discovering a tray of fresh-baked buns in the oven made Jay grin. “You are the most inept person in the kitchen I’ve ever met.”

“Now that’s a case of the pot calling the kettle black,” Adam observed as he set the tray on the table between them. “You can’t boil water.”

“I do, however, know enough to put things in a gas powered oven to keep them warm.” He dipped a bun into the stew, and put it in his mouth, chewing with pleasure. “So when is your family joining you?”

“They’re not.” Adam kept his eyes on his food. “An Li and I are divorced.”

A number of responses popped into Jay’s head, chief among them the observation that it was about time, but as none of them seemed appropriate, he kept silent, and nodded. Adam added nothing, and they devoted themselves to their food without further comment. They were on their second helping of stew, when Adam remembered the coffee. Jay watched him pouring, and grinned.

“I’m surprised you don’t have one of those drip machines.”

“Oh, I do in London.” Adam handed Jay a hot cup. “But Mrs. Wilson won’t have one in here, so we make do with that one. It’s the pot Katie gave me for Christmas all those years ago.”

Again, Jay couldn’t think of a proper response, and kept quiet. It seemed Adam, though, wasn’t finished.

“Speaking of Katie, why haven’t you gone to talk to her? I mean, I’m chuffed to see you, and I agree that you and I need to talk. But don’t you think your wife should take precedence over me?”

Jay took a careful sip from the cup. “Coffee brewed on the stove is better than what’s done in those drip machines. And for your information, I did go to talk to Katie.” He took another sip. “She wasn’t there.” The memory of the silent house in London had been with him for the past two weeks, no matter how he tried to shake it. He’d only stayed long enough to ascertain that Katie was, indeed, gone before rushing out and checking into a hotel for the night. Prepared to crawl, beg, plead – do whatever he had to do to try and make it up to her – the fact that she hadn’t been there had thrown him for a loop. That was when the idea of seeing Adam had taken hold of him, and he’d headed for Scotland the following day.

“She’s living in California.” Adam was watching him over the rim of his coffee cup. “Actually, I’ve just come from there.” He nodded at Jay’s surprised look. “We finished recording our next album – used Ardent in Memphis, by the way – and while I was in the States I thought I’d pop in, see how she was getting on.”

Jay dropped his eyes to his bowl. “And?”

“Go see for yourself. Are you finished?” Adam indicated the dishes in front of Jay.

“Yeah, except for the coffee.” Jay was silent as Adam gathered up the remains of their supper, and put them in the deep sink. Finally, he sighed, and voiced what had been on his mind since he’d discovered the empty house. “I’m afraid to see her.”

“Don’t blame you,” Adam said over the sound of running water. “She still loves you, though. That should give you a place to start.”

Jay raised his eyebrows, and stared at Adam’s back. On the one hand, it was good to know Adam thought Katie still loved him, but on the other… “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but is that why you’re here and not still in California?” The sound of water splashing was the only sound as Adam continued to rinse the dishes without speaking. Jay cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“You didn’t.” The water shut off, and Adam turned, drying his hands on a towel. “I just wanted to finish those first.” He tossed the towel onto the counter, and put his hands on the edge of the sink behind him, leaning back against them. “But no, that’s not the reason. Hey, I know why you asked, though, and it’s cool. I love Katie, and I always will. But I was never in love with her.” He smiled. “Of course, I was the last one to know it, but I see it now. I’m sorry I was such a horse’s arse about the whole thing, but I guess I felt a little pushed out, you know?”

Jay nodded, and ran his finger around the rim of his cup. “I didn’t exactly help the situation any. If I hadn’t pushed Katie, she probably would have waited until after she split with you before starting anything with me.”

“Well, well.” Adam grinned. “And all these years you’ve insisted you weren’t sorry.”

“I’m not.” Jay looked up at Adam, and shrugged. “I’d do it again, because I had to have her, or die. I am sorry about all the shit that went down afterward, though.”

“Good enough.” Adam nodded, still smiling. “But I don't sweat it now. Even if she hadn't met you when she did, we wouldn't have lasted much longer. I was just jealous. But it's all over and done. Like Katie told me a couple of months ago, life's too short for all that shit. And she was right. Hang on a sec.” He pushed himself away from the sink, and left the room. When he returned, he handed Jay a slip of paper. “That’s her address, and her telephone. I wouldn’t advise calling first, though.”

“Wonderful,” Jay muttered. He handled the paper as if expecting it to explode at any moment. “So you’re saying I should just show up like a genie popping out of a bottle?”

Chuckling, Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “If you know what’s good for you.”

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[> [> The soothing quiet of old friends. -- Debi, 13:35:06 10/12/09 Mon

>Pale ale, Jay reflected, left a lot to be desired,
>especially when one craved a stiff shot of Jack
>Daniel’s, neat. It was, however, alcoholic, and that
>was what counted. He no longer trusted himself to
>drink anything stronger than beer, knowing that one
>shot of whiskey would lead to twenty, and before he
>knew it, he’d be well on his way to oblivion. Beer
>cut the craving, and since he wasn’t fond of the
>taste, he had no desire to go overboard with it.
So I'm guessing Guinness is right out, hm? ;-)
>
That feeling of complete calm, that’s what
>he really wanted. He took a deep breath, and banished
>those thoughts from his head. The seven days it had
>taken him to clear the heroin from his system were
>etched in jagged, black grooves into his memory, and
>he had no desire to repeat them; hellish days when
>he’d wished for death, begged for it, to quiet the
>insane craving his body had for the drug. Too, now
>that he’d regained control of his life, he was
>determined not to lose it again, no matter how messed
>up his life had become.
I like this description. I know precisely squat about heroin, except that is cares the hell out of me and I've never had any desire to try it, even if an opportunity had presented itself. But with the deep calm he's looking for being the prize, I can understand why he wanted it so. To calm and corral that beast he felt resided inside him, to slow the frenetic energy. I can sympathize to an extent.
>
He had been more than glad to leave,
>especially since there was nothing left for him there.
When he discovers Katie's gone? >
For the first time in a very long time,
>his hands itched to hold a guitar, to feel the strings
>bite into his fingers, to make music. There was no
>pressure to create anything new, and he wasn’t even
>sure he could come up with new music. No, he
>just wanted to play, and play for a long time. All of
>his guitars were still in the house in London; he
>could go back and get at least a couple, and then go
>somewhere where he could just sit on a rock in the
>open and play. He thought he might start with
>Smoke on the Water.

It's good to see him wanting to play again. And hell, I can't play guitar, and *I* can play that riff from SotW!
>
In the next instant, though, all
>thoughts of the guitar player were wiped from his head
>as his wife’s voice soared out of the jukebox and
>stabbed him right in the heart.

Even though I gather he hasn't seen/spoken to/communicated in any way with Katie, he still has that visceral reaction to even just her voice. I like how you've shown that.
>
And all the rest. Jay's finally getting a sense of where he wants to go now that he's clean, it seems like, and oddly enough, that direction comes from his best friend/rival. Adam's been married and divorced a few times and yet his advice to Jay seems pretty sound. Funny how that happens in real life; you can't get your own shit together, but you're good at seeing what people around you need. Makes me like Adam more, makes him less the pouty spoiled little boy. Jay's drifting, and now Adam's given him that littel push in right direction. And he's right; just showing up is for the best.

Good stuff.

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[> [> [> I like how you put that! >>>> -- Page, 16:41:10 10/12/09 Mon

>> Beer
>>cut the craving, and since he wasn’t fond of the
>>taste, he had no desire to go overboard with it.
>So I'm guessing Guinness is right out, hm? ;-)

Yeah, I just can't see Jay with anything stout. Of course, that's a direct reflection of my own tastes. *G*

>>
> That feeling of complete calm, that’s what
>>he really wanted. He took a deep breath, and banished
>>those thoughts from his head. The seven days it had
>>taken him to clear the heroin from his system were
>>etched in jagged, black grooves into his memory, and
>>he had no desire to repeat them; hellish days when
>>he’d wished for death, begged for it, to quiet the
>>insane craving his body had for the drug. Too, now
>>that he’d regained control of his life, he was
>>determined not to lose it again, no matter how messed
>>up his life had become.
>I like this description. I know precisely squat
>about heroin, except that is cares the hell out of me
>and I've never had any desire to try it, even if an
>opportunity had presented itself. But with the deep
>calm he's looking for being the prize, I can
>understand why he wanted it so. To calm and corral
>that beast he felt resided inside him, to slow the
>frenetic energy. I can sympathize to an extent.


It's funny; I'd talked to both a doctor and a psychologist about the effects of heroin, and while I understood what a body would go through while under the drug's effect, I still didn't feel like I knew enough to write about it. Doing heroin myself was NOT in the cards. *G* Like you, it's something I was never tempted to try. But then I got a prescription cough medicine that contained opiates. While I know that its effect is nothing like heroin, I did get a feel for what opiates can do. When I took the medicine, I'd find myself sunk into the couch (I mean literally sunk into it), just looking at the television. I had no idea what program was on, nor did I care. But I just stared at the screen, perfectly content to do so, with no worries about anything at all. It was a complete calm, and I think I see why junkies get addicted to that. Combined with what I'd learned from my doctor friends, I think it gave me a pretty good grasp of what Jay might have felt. I hope so, anyway, because further experimentation is completely out of the question! *G*

>>
> He had been more than glad to leave,
>>especially since there was nothing left for him there.
> When he discovers Katie's gone?

Yep. It shook him when she wasn't there waiting for him.
>>
>For the first time in a very long time,
>>his hands itched to hold a guitar, to feel the strings
>>bite into his fingers, to make music. There was no
>>pressure to create anything new, and he wasn’t even
>>sure he could come up with new music. No, he
>>just wanted to play, and play for a long time. All of
>>his guitars were still in the house in London; he
>>could go back and get at least a couple, and then go
>>somewhere where he could just sit on a rock in the
>>open and play. He thought he might start with
>>Smoke on the Water.
>
>It's good to see him wanting to play again. And
>hell, I can't play guitar, and *I* can play that riff
>from SotW!


Bom bom booommm, bom bom ba dooommm. Bom bom bom, bom bom. *G*
>>
>In the next instant, though, all
>>thoughts of the guitar player were wiped from his head
>>as his wife’s voice soared out of the jukebox and
>>stabbed him right in the heart.
>
>Even though I gather he hasn't seen/spoken
>to/communicated in any way with Katie, he still has
>that visceral reaction to even just her voice. I like
>how you've shown that.


TY!
>>
And all the rest. Jay's finally getting a sense of
>where he wants to go now that he's clean, it seems
>like, and oddly enough, that direction comes from his
>best friend/rival. Adam's been married and divorced a
>few times and yet his advice to Jay seems pretty
>sound. Funny how that happens in real life; you can't
>get your own shit together, but you're good at seeing
>what people around you need. Makes me like Adam more,
>makes him less the pouty spoiled little boy. Jay's
>drifting, and now Adam's given him that littel push in
>right direction. And he's right; just showing up is
>for the best.
>
>Good stuff.


Thank you, Debi! Jay needed to see Adam before he saw Katie, needed to reconnect to the person he was before he went off the deep end. I like how you put it -- the soothing quiet of old friends. That's just what it was.

Hugs,
Page

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[> [> Re: The return of Jay Carey >>>>> -- Lady Morilka, 04:07:25 10/14/09 Wed

>Excerpt from Carey On
>©2009 by Juli Morgan
>Posted for purposes of critique only, and does not
>constitute publication
>
>Pale ale, Jay reflected, left a lot to be desired,
>especially when one craved a stiff shot of Jack
>Daniel’s, neat. It was, however, alcoholic, and that
>was what counted. He no longer trusted himself to
>drink anything stronger than beer, knowing that one
>shot of whiskey would lead to twenty, and before he
>knew it, he’d be well on his way to oblivion. Beer
>cut the craving, and since he wasn’t fond of the
>taste, he had no desire to go overboard with it.
I like the reflectiv calm with which you start of here, really inwards.
>
>Oblivion, though – that sounded nice. More than an
>alcoholic buzz, he craved the peace of his muscles
>growing heavy, his mind slowing to a crawl, and the
>world rocking along just fine without any input from
>him. What a relief it would be to take just a small
>hit off a pipe filled with smack, to lose himself in
>staring for hours at nothing at all, his emotions and
>feelings suppressed so deep he didn’t have to deal
>with them. That feeling of complete calm, that’s what
>he really wanted. He took a deep breath, and banished
>those thoughts from his head. The seven days it had
>taken him to clear the heroin from his system were
>etched in jagged, black grooves into his memory, and
>he had no desire to repeat them; hellish days when
>he’d wished for death, begged for it, to quiet the
>insane craving his body had for the drug. Too, now
>that he’d regained control of his life, he was
>determined not to lose it again, no matter how messed
>up his life had become.
Oh that struggle with controlling versus loosing one self is great, comes across like a tremendous boulder for him.
>
>He raised the glass and took a healthy swallow, wiping
>the thin foam from his upper lip. The pub was
>starting to fill up with people searching for a hot
>bite, or a cold pint, and Jay slouched lower in his
>chair, hoping to remain unrecognized. For almost a
>year, he’d made sure his travels took him to places
>where Shadowed Knight wasn’t even a blip on the radar,
>and where the name Jay Carey meant nothing special.
>Two weeks ago, he’d ventured into London, and had
>managed to fly below the radar with no one knowing
>he’d even been there. Even incognito, being in London
>had been surreal, with too many people, too much
>noise. He had been more than glad to leave,
>especially since there was nothing left for him there.
>
>Nairn, the Scottish village in which he now found
>himself, wasn’t London by any means, but he was still
>wary of being found out. If it wasn’t for Adam’s farm
>being just down the road, Jay wouldn’t have been there
>at all. But after leaving London, he’d felt an
>overwhelming urge to see Adam, to talk to him, so he’d
>boarded the sleeper car to Inverness, and had then
>traveled overland to Nairn.
>
>It had taken a kind of courage Jay hadn’t had in quite
>some time to go up to Adam’s house and knock on the
>door, only to be told by the caretaker that Mr. Greene
>wasn’t in residence.
This sentence sounds awkwart because of that "hadn't had" maybe if you would change that into "hadn't used", "hadn't needed" or "hadn't to come up with" or something else that takes the dublication out of there.
Frustrated, Jay had thanked the
>old man, and had gone into the village where he
>checked into a small inn. He still wasn’t sure why he
>was hanging around. Probably because he couldn’t
>think of anywhere else to go.
>
>Two women, still dressed in the conservative skirts
>and blouses they’d worn to work, approached Jay’s
>corner, and he drew back further into the shadows.
>They didn’t even glance his way, though, but headed
>toward the jukebox on the back wall. Jay breathed an
>inaudible sigh of relief, and listened with half an
>ear to their pleasant Scots burr as they discussed
>which records to play. They deposited their coins
>into the machine, and in a moment, the pub was filled
>with the familiar guitar riff that began Smoke on
>the Water
. The women made another selection, and
>then returned to their table, leaving Jay in the
>seclusion he wanted.
>
>He took small sips of his beer, enjoying the Deep
>Purple tune. For the first time in a very long time,
>his hands itched to hold a guitar, to feel the strings
>bite into his fingers, to make music. There was no
>pressure to create anything new, and he wasn’t even
>sure he could come up with new music. No, he
>just wanted to play, and play for a long time. All of
>his guitars were still in the house in London; he
>could go back and get at least a couple, and then go
>somewhere where he could just sit on a rock in the
>open and play. He thought he might start with
>Smoke on the Water.
:)
>
>Caught up in his thoughts, he hardly noticed when the
>Deep Purple song faded out, and the next record
>clunked onto the turntable. But when it started
>playing, he turned his head toward the jukebox,
>transfixed by the music. That was one damn fine
>guitar intro, and he nodded his head in admiration of
>both the playing, and of the production that gave it
>such a rich sound. It was a song he’d not heard
>before, and he wondered who it was. The style was
>familiar, and he racked his brain, trying to place a
>name to the guitar. In the next instant, though, all
>thoughts of the guitar player were wiped from his head
>as his wife’s voice soared out of the jukebox and
>stabbed him right in the heart.
Great, I never expected that, I keept waiting for the song beeing from someone from his band, but never Katie. I love when books can surprise me without it beeing too constructed or far fetched!
>
>He sat back in his chair, and crossed his arms over
>his chest, as though that could ward off the assault
>on his senses. Of course, it didn’t work, and every
>word she sang found their
"their" isn't this plural while "every word" is singular? or am I off track here? I've always been garbage with grammar, I just go by sound, and this somehow sounds wrong.
mark, just as though she
>were standing right in front of him.
>
>“If you’re going to leave me, then go ahead and
>leave.
> Stop haunting my memories, and give me some
>peace.”

>
>Jaw clenched, Jay could do nothing but sit frozen in
>his chair, listening to Katie berate him for what he’d
>done to her. He was under no illusions that the song
>hadn’t been written for him; and even though he knew
>he deserved it, he still wished he could get up and
>pull the plug on the jukebox, ending the torture.
>
>“I still see you, I still hear you; there are times
>I can almost touch you,
> But then I wake up alone, and you’re still not
>here.”

>
>He closed his eyes, and hoped the song would be over
>soon. A small measure of relief came when Katie
>stopped singing, and Zach ripped into a blistering
>guitar solo. Jay found that he could breathe again if
>he didn’t hear her voice.
I really like how you incorporated that song instead of have katie tell, or Jay figure out how she felt. but maybe it would be an idea to let the text trail in or out without full sentences. Jay is trying to think, trying to react to the song, if we wouldn't get the feeling to read the whole text, It might add to the feeling that there is more in that song than just the few lines you provide here.
Am I making sense?

>
>“Hell of a song, innit?”
>
>Jay’s eyes popped open at the voice that overrode the
>music, and saw Adam sitting opposite him, a
>sympathetic smile on his face.
>
>“Where’d you come from? Your caretaker told me you
>weren’t here.”
>
>“I got in last night, and figured from the description
>it was you who’d come round.”
Oh, so Jay already stayed a night at the inn, I figured it was still the day he arrived, that he went to the pup after securing a room for him.
Adam stretched his legs
>out in front of him, and crossed his feet at the
>ankles. “So today I came into town and started
>looking for you. I can’t believe you’re still using
>the name Ben Dover as a cover.”
>
>Jay couldn’t help but laugh at Adam’s grin. “It was
>either that or Mike Hunt. Can’t let all those good
>names we used go to waste.”
>
>Still grinning, Adam summoned a waitress, and ordered
>a pint before turning back to Jay. “So, what do you
>think of Katie’s song?”
>
>Jay pinched the bridge of his nose. There were no
>words to articulate what he thought of it, so he side
>stepped the question. “New, is it?”
>
>“Yeah, from their last album. And I do mean their
>last. Katie’s left Whistlepig, did you know?”
>
>Startled, Jay looked at Adam, and saw the truth
>written there, along with accusation. “No.” He
>sighed and shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that.”
>
>“Thanks, luv.” Adam accepted a mug from the waitress,
>and handed her a few crumpled bills. He took a long
>draught of the beer, and sighed with pleasure before
>pinning Jay with a hard stare. “Where the bloody hell
>have you been, anyway?”
>
>“Honestly? I don’t really remember.” With a deep
>feeling of thanksgiving, Jay heard the Whistlepig song
>come to an end. “India for a time, then down in the
>Caribbean. I was in North Africa for a bit. Just
>here and there.”
>
>Adam was still staring. “And did it help?”
>
>Jay looked him in the eye. “No. Not until just
>recently.”
>
>After a moment, Adam nodded, and picked up his mug
>again. They drank in silence for a bit, and Jay felt
>his frazzled nerves start to calm. Adam’s appearing
>out of thin air while Katie’s song was pouring into
>his ears had made him distinctly jumpy. The beer was
>doing its job, though, and he started to relax.
>
>Adam’s beer was almost gone when he looked up at Jay
>again. “I’m guessing you came here for more than the
>beer. And I don’t think it was because of the golf
>course.” Both men snorted with laughter, remembering
>their shared disdain of the game. “So I reckon we
>should probably talk. Come on, we’ll go to my house.”
>
>“Maybe not,” Jay hedged. “I don’t want to barge in on
>An Li.” In fact, he’d do just about anything not to
>have to see An Li Greene ever again, since he couldn’t
>imagine a more unpleasant individual. And much as
>he’d like to see Samantha and Lily, he wasn’t really
>in the mood to deal with children, either.
>
>But Adam was shaking his head. “No worries, she’s not
>here.” He got to his feet, and inclined his head
>toward the door. “So, let’s go, alright?”
>
>
>
>The farmhouse hadn’t changed a bit in the two years
>since Jay had been there. Adam had installed a new
>kitchen and up to date plumbing when he’d bought it,
>but had left the rest in its original rustic
>condition. Unlike Jay, Adam was enchanted with the
>thought of “roughing it,” and accepted the drafty
>windows, the patchy roof, and uncertain heat as
>charming, and proof of his commonality with regular
>people. Jay knew that last was utter bullshit, since
>a bottle of Adam’s shampoo would feed a family of four
>for a month, but he’d never tried to burst Adam’s
>bubble. If he wanted to act outwardly as if he didn’t
>have money, then so be it.
>
>At least the kitchen was warm, and full of the smell
>of the vegetable beef stew the caretaker’s wife had
>left simmering on the stove. Jay declined Adam’s
>offer of another beer, so Adam turned back to the
>stove.
Turned back to the stove? When did he turn to the stove before? I would just cut the "back"
In a few moments, the warm scent of coffee
>brewing mixed with the stew, and made the kitchen a
>cozy oasis.
>
>“Here you are.” Adam set a steaming bowl of stew in
>front of Jay, and took a seat across the table. “Eat
>up. You’ve lost a lot of weight since I saw you last.”
Adam is not eating? Not sure here but I would like it better, I think, if Adam would put two bowl on the table. Would be mor casual and give less of a feeling of him trying to parent a lost child. JMHO
>
>“Mm-hm,” Jay agreed, his mouth full of the most
>delicious vegetable beef stew he’d ever put into his
>mouth. He swallowed, and wiped his mouth with his
>napkin. “I’ll gain it all back now.”
>
>“Oh.” Adam’s mouth stretched into a delighted smile,
>and he nodded at Jay. “That’s good, then. You
>don't...you don't crave it?"
>
>"No." Jay shook his head. "My body doesn't crave it.
> It's the feeling I got from it that's hardest to
>shake. That calm, that oblivion. I still want that,
>but I'll just have to find other ways to achieve it
>now."
>
>"I'm glad." Adam's voice was matter of fact.
>
>"Actually, I am, too." Jay was making headway on his
>stew, but he couldn’t ignore another aroma in the
>kitchen, faint, but still present under the beef broth
>and coffee smells. “Hey.” He put his spoon down.
>“Is it just me, or do you smell buns?”
>
>“I do!” Adam looked perplexed. “I’ve looked all
>over, though, and I can’t find any.”
>
>“Did you check the oven?”
>
>Adam gave Jay a look of exasperation. “She wouldn’t
>have left buns in the oven. They’d burn.”
LOL, Men!
>
>Repressing a sigh, Jay shook his head. “I didn’t say
>the oven was still on. But maybe she put them there
>to keep them warm.” Adam’s exclamation of delight
>upon discovering a tray of fresh-baked buns in the
>oven made Jay grin. “You are the most inept person in
>the kitchen I’ve ever met.”
>
>“Now that’s a case of the pot calling the kettle
>black,” Adam observed as he set the tray on the table
>between them. “You can’t boil water.”
>
>“I do, however, know enough to put things in a gas
>powered oven to keep them warm.” He dipped a bun into
>the stew, and put it in his mouth, chewing with
>pleasure. “So when is your family joining you?”
>
>“They’re not.” Adam kept his eyes on his food. “An
>Li and I are divorced.”
When did Adam take food for him? above he is just putting something before Jay.
>
>A number of responses popped into Jay’s head, chief
>among them the observation that it was about time, but
>as none of them seemed appropriate, he kept silent,
>and nodded. Adam added nothing, and they devoted
>themselves to their food without further comment.
>They were on their second helping of stew, when Adam
>remembered the coffee. Jay watched him pouring, and
>grinned.
>
>“I’m surprised you don’t have one of those drip
>machines.”
>
>“Oh, I do in London.” Adam handed Jay a hot cup.
>“But Mrs. Wilson won’t have one in here, so we make do
>with that one. It’s still the pot Katie gave me for
>Christmas all those years ago.”
>
>Again, Jay couldn’t think of a proper response, and
>kept quiet. It seemed Adam, though, wasn’t finished.
>
>“Speaking of Katie, why haven’t you gone to talk to
>her? I mean, I’m chuffed to see you, and I agree that
>you and I need to talk. But don’t you think your wife
>should take precedence over me?”
>
>Jay took a careful sip from the cup. “Coffee brewed
>on the stove is better than what’s done in those drip
>machines. And for your information, I did go to talk
>to Katie.” He took another sip. “She wasn’t there.”
>The memory of the silent house in London had been with
>him for the past two weeks, no matter how he tried to
>shake it. He’d only stayed long enough to ascertain
>that Katie was, indeed, gone before rushing out and
>checking into a hotel for the night. Prepared to
>crawl, beg, plead – do whatever he had to do to try
>and make it up to her – the fact that she hadn’t been
>there had thrown him for a loop. That was when the
>idea of seeing Adam had taken hold of him, and he’d
>headed for Scotland the following day.
>
>“She’s living in California.” Adam was watching him
>over the rim of his coffee cup. “Actually, I’ve just
>come from there.” He nodded at Jay’s surprised look.
>“We finished recording our next album – used Ardent in
>Memphis, by the way – and while I was in the States I
>thought I’d pop in, see how she was getting on.”
>
>Jay dropped his eyes to his bowl. “And?”
>
>“Go see for yourself. Are you finished?” Adam
>indicated the dishes in front of Jay.
>
>“Yeah, except for the coffee.” Jay was silent as Adam
>gathered up the remains of their supper, and put them
>in the deep sink. Finally, he sighed, and voiced what
>had been on his mind since he’d discovered the empty
>house. “I’m afraid to see her.”
Boy has he grown up in his time at walkabout.
>
>“Don’t blame you,” Adam said over the sound of running
>water. “She still loves you, though. That should
>give you a place to start.”
>
>Jay raised his eyebrows, and stared at Adam’s back.
>On the one hand, it was good to know Adam thought
>Katie still loved him, but on the other… “I don’t
>want this to come out the wrong way, but is that why
>you’re here and not still in California?” The sound
>of water splashing was the only sound as Adam
>continued to rinse the dishes without speaking. Jay
>cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean
>to offend you.”
>
>“You didn’t.” The water shut off, and Adam turned,
>drying his hands on a towel. “I just wanted to finish
>those first.” He tossed the towel onto the counter,
>and put his hands on the edge of the sink behind him,
>leaning back against them. “But no, that’s not the
>reason. Hey, I know why you asked, though, and it’s
>cool. I love Katie, and I always will. But I was
>never in love with her.”
And Adam grew up too.
He smiled. “Of course, I
>was the last one to know it, but I see it now. I’m
>sorry I was such a horse’s arse about the whole thing,
>but I guess I felt a little pushed out, you know?”
>
>Jay nodded, and ran his finger around the rim of his
>cup. “I didn’t exactly help the situation any. If I
>hadn’t pushed Katie, she probably would have waited
>until after she split with you before starting
>anything with me.”
>
>“Well, well.” Adam grinned. “And all these years
>you’ve insisted you weren’t sorry.”
>
>“I’m not.” Jay looked up at Adam, and shrugged. “I’d
>do it again, because I had to have her, or die. I am
>sorry about all the shit that went down afterward,
>though.”
>
>“Good enough.” Adam nodded, still smiling. “But I
>don't sweat it now. Even if she hadn't met you when
>she did, we wouldn't have lasted much longer. I was
>just jealous. But it's all over and done. Like Katie
>told me a couple of months ago,
Month? So the trip he just came from is not the one you posted below?!
life's too short for
>all that shit. And she was right. Hang on a sec.”
>He pushed himself away from the sink, and left the
>room. When he returned, he handed Jay a slip of
>paper. “That’s her address, and her telephone. I
>wouldn’t advise calling first, though.”
>
>“Wonderful,” Jay muttered. He handled the paper as if
>expecting it to explode at any moment. “So you’re
>saying I should just show up like a genie popping out
>of a bottle?”
>
>Chuckling, Adam clapped him on the shoulder. “If you
>know what’s good for you.”
lol

Great scene, always on the edge I like that here. I can't wait to read the next part.

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