Artist Insane .com

Once more Josh found himself striding through the airport, this time to bid Brian farewell  – a bit of mixed up déjà vu from his own arrival there just three days previously.  Three days.  Christ had risen from the dead in that span of time.  Josh, on the other hand, had become buried so deep in the darkest aspects of life he felt he would never rise again.

Today, rather than his bandmates, however, it was Josh’s friend and fellow musician, Chris who stood with them, near the gate marked “Departures.”  As with so many formerly innocuous, barely noticed “signs,” the thought flickered through Josh’s mind that the word itself bespoke some ominous foreboding inherent in its relation to “the departed.”  Funny how one suddenly notices syntax and subtleties of language and tone only after everything has already been said – or left not.  Maybe all of life hinged on a single word.  “Oh yeah,” he thought bitterly — “Death.”

Determinedly turning away from the offending organization of letters, Josh turned back to Brian wearing the mask of determined calm he’d been cultivating for the past 36 hours or so.  No sense falling apart on everyone forever…he’d already done enough of that in front of Brian since returning from San Francisco. Somehow Brian, by contrast, had dealt with his own grief quietly, offering Josh a willing ear and countless active expressions of support. Yes, he was Julie’s brother, all right, Josh realized anew.  And, though Brian’s presence throughout this time had indeed been hugely comforting, here Josh found himself facing yet another thought that wasn’t.  Yet another reminder of “the departed.”  Yet another circle of guilt and confusion bringing him back around to where he’d started…the gate marked “Departures” and the need to say goodbye.

“What flight number did they just say?”  Brian asked, as a mumbled announcement competed with the press of people and the noise of luggage being transported back and forth throughout the terminal.

“I think that’s you, bro,” Chris answered, as they simultaneously checked the ticket in Brian’s hand.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Brian said at last, before looking up at Josh and wordlessly embracing him as Chris quietly retreated a few steps away.  More support… threatening more tears of gratitude and unworthiness to well up in Josh’s eyes.   Winning this one battle, Josh managed to sound almost normal when he finally spoke.

“Give Annie my best, and tell her congratulations and all that…”

“I will.  And, we’ll both see you…both?” Brian trailed off, glancing between Chris and Josh as he continued, “in June?

“I hope so – thanks,” Chris replied.  Then, deftly switching gears to intercept an awkward silence, “Hey, you’d better get going or you’re gonna miss the plane.”

“Oh sh–, you’re right,” Brian exclaimed, and grabbed his carry-on bag as he turned to go.  “We’ll talk soon, Josh.  And, you can let me know about that other – you know, the best man thing – whenever.  No big deal…  So, okay, I guess I’m outta here, guys.  So long.”

“Yeah…see you, man,” Josh responded, with a final wave as Chris came to stand at his side.  “Travel safe.”

They watched as Brian disappeared around a corner, unmoving for a few moments, each lost in his own thoughts – or more accurately, delaying the thought of leaving the airport and the past three days of at least somewhat scripted action.  Meager consolation to be sure – the rituals of funeral, etc…but still something common to man.  The uncharted course of an individual life and whatever might be to come once Josh left the airport, by contrast, seemed a daunting and uncertain mission indeed.

“You want to grab a burger or something,” Chris asked as they made their way to Josh’s car.

“Nah, I’m good.  But, we can stop someplace if you want.  Fine with me.”

“I wouldn’t mind hitting a drive-thru.”

“You got it.”

“So, you have any kind of timetable for starting this record?” Chris asked as he dug into a fast food bag and began crunching down French fries.

“No,” Josh answered, pulling away from the drive-thru and back out onto the roadway.  “Tommy was supposed to talk to somebody from the label today, but…”

“‘But what?” Chris asked.

“I don’t know,” Josh answered vaguely.  “I’m just not sure about that whole thing right now… I kind of – ah, I don’t know.”

“Don’t know what exactly?” Chris pressed.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to go put in a lot of hours in the studio right now.  And, I’ve only got about half the material we need, anyway.  I mean…”

“You mean you don’t exactly feel like singing these days.  Yeah, I hear you there.”

“Hey, you gonna send any of those fries over here, or what?” Josh suddenly asked, anxious to change the subject, and unsure how to explain that he could pretty much count on one hand the number of hours he’d slept since learning of Julie’s death – not to mention how far from productive he was feeling in general.  Beyond that, how does one move on with the biggest, “brightest” career opportunity of one’s life when every opportunity for someone so close to you has permanently ended?  It didn’t seem fair.  Julie’d been such a huge source of encouragement and support, and he had little doubt all of that had strongly contributed to bringing him and the band where they were now.  “Huh,” Josh spoke to himself the words he couldn’t say to Chris.  “And, maybe I contributed strongly to where she is now.”  Funny.  He’d heard the abstract term “survivor guilt”, and its textbook definition of one person having made it through some “big” tragedy like a plane crash or the Titanic or such an event where others perished.  How different, really, was this six-year-in–the-making catastrophe he too had experienced – maybe, God forbid, somehow even partially engineered?

“But, it might be a really good thing right now,” Chris went on as he passed a carton of fries over to Josh. “You know, to get back to what you do and start getting past all of Julie’s sh—,” breaking off suddenly as Josh shot him a dark look.

“Oh, Jesus, Josh, that didn’t come out right,” Chris quickly stammered.  “I don’t want to sound cold or insensitive to what’s happened.  It’s just – hey, I’m not gonna start lying about it now…you know I was never big on your whole relationship with her.  I know, I know, this isn’t the most tactful time to bring that up, and we’ve already been through it a million times, and it’s not that I really didn’t like her or whatever.  You know how it is… I just always worried about you being with her…that it was just gonna end up badly for you somehow.  And, now, well….ah shit.”

“So what was I supposed to do, huh?” Josh returned.  “Say, ‘Sorry, honey, you’re whole depression thing’s just bringing me down.  I think I’m just gonna leave you to deal with that on your own from here on out’?  What would you have done, Einstein?  And how great would you feel today having done it, whatever the hell ‘it’ might be?  Got any ideas?  ‘Cause I’m all ears.”

“Josh, come on.  You know what I’m saying.  I don’t know what I would have done.  And, that’s not the point…”

“Yeah, so what is?”

“Look, man, you and I have been working on the same dream for years.  And, it looks like you might really have a shot at it at last actually happening.  I know the timing kind of seems like some joke of Fate, but maybe there’s another way to look at it.  Maybe it’s the best possible time to have this waiting for you — you know?  I mean, what would you do otherwise – just go home and sit around in your apartment staring at walls of regret for the next six months?  This is what we do, Josh…this whole crazy ‘chase the dream of having our music make it’ thing is all we’ve ever done.  And, it could be right there for you – kind of like your salvation in all of this.  I just don’t want to see you let that slip away because you’re – understandably, God knows – feeling down and confused right now.”

His irritation ebbing, Josh relented, “Yeah, I know.  But…”

“But you’d rather sit around and revel in ‘doom, despair and agony on me’ like that old hick show, Hee Haw.  Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Shaking his head, Josh couldn’t help shooting Chris a grin, who returned a broad smile of his own.   Then, sternly wagging a fry, his eyes alight with mock revelation, Chris continued, “Hey, Josh – that’s it!  Maybe that could work for you…

“Any chance this label you just signed with handles country?”